Library of the World's Best Literature, Ancient and Modern — Volume 13
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Library of the World's Best Literature, Ancient and Modern — Volume 13
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"I see what it is plain enough," said Mr. Tookey, unable to keep cool
any longer. "There's a consperacy to turn me out o' the choir, as I
shouldn't share the Christmas money--that's where it is. But I shall
speak to Mr. Crackenthorp; I'll not be put upon by no man."
"Nay, nay, Tookey," said Ben Winthrop. "We'll pay you your share to
keep out of it--that's what we'll do. There's things folks 'ud pay to
be rid on, besides varmin."
"Come, come," said the landlord, who felt that paying people for their
absence was a principle dangerous to society; "a joke's a joke. We're
all good friends here, I hope. We must give and take. You're both
right and you're both wrong, as I say. I agree wi' Mr. Macey here, as
there's two opinions; and if mine was asked, I should say they're both
right. Tookey's right and Winthrop's right, and they've only got to
split the difference and make themselves even."
The farrier was puffing his pipe rather fiercely, in some contempt at
this trivial discussion. He had no ear for music himself, and never
went to church, as being of the medical profession, and likely to be
in requisition for delicate cows. But the butcher, having music in his
soul, had listened with a divided desire, for Tookey's defeat and for
the preservation of the peace.
"To be sure," he said, following up the landlord's conciliatory view,
"we're fond of our old clerk; it's nat'ral, and him used to be such a
singer, and got a brother as is known for the first fiddler in this
country-side. Eh, it's a pity but what Solomon lived in our village,
and could give us a tune when he liked, eh, Mr. Macey? I'd keep him in
liver and lights for nothing--that I would."
"Ay, ay," said Mr. Macey, in the height of complacency; "our family's
been known for musicianers as far back as anybody can tell. But them
things are dying out, as I tell Solomon every time he comes round;
there's no voices like what there used to be, and there's nobody
remembers what we remember, if it ain't the old crows."
"Ay, you remember when first Mr. Lammeter's father came into these
parts, don't you, Mr. Macey?" said the landlord.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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