Sink or swim? : $b a novel; vol. 1/3Houstoun, Mrs. (Matilda Charlotte)
General
Sink or swim? : $b a novel; vol. 1/3
Houstoun, Mrs. (Matilda Charlotte)
English fiction -- 19th century
The approaching marriage of Mr. John Beacham, whose family had been time
out of mind one of the most respected and respectable in the entire
parish of Switcham, within the boundaries of which the Beachams had held
land to a large extent under many a successive lord of the manor of
Gillingham, was a very important event in that quiet locality. In his
way, John Beacham might almost be styled a _public_ character. Far and
near, whenever a certain highly interesting subject--namely, that of
horses--was upon the _tapis_, honest John’s name was pretty certain to
be brought prominently forward. It was surprising--in a country and on a
matter in which almost every young gentleman, probably, held a
first-rate opinion of his own merits as a judge of “cattle”--what weight
the fiat of John Beacham, farmer and horse-breeder, was wont to carry
with it. The latter vocation--and a highly lucrative one it was--had not
been exercised for more than a dozen years or so by the lessees of
Shotover Farm, by which name, by the way, the hundreds of broad acres
rented by the Beacham family had, for generations past, been known. Some
six years before the death of John’s father, the estate called Updown
Paddocks, and which consisted of many a broad and fertile meadow,
admirably adapted for breeding purposes, was announced to be for sale.
It lay in tempting proximity to Mr. Beacham’s farm; the price in that
prudent individual’s opinion was a reasonable one; he and his trusted
son John were agreed in the matter; so, in due course of time, the
tenants of Shotover progressed to the dignity of landowners. Meanwhile,
and pending the final arrangements for the purchase, John’s mother, the
“old lady” of whom honourable mention has already been made, showed
herself anything but favourable to the new plan. Though a Yorkshire
woman born and bred, the love of horses and of horse-dealing was not
inherent in her septuagenarian breast. She was a tall, large-boned, but,
in spite of her seventy years, still a well-favoured woman. John was her
only surviving child, infantile complaints of various kinds having
carried away four others before they had had time to wind themselves too
closely round her heart; and in the said John, therefore--in his present
comfort and his future fortunes--all her best affections and her
keenest interests were concentrated. Many were the anxious moments
endured, and not a few the querulous remarks uttered, by the farmer’s
cautious wife before the complete success of the undertaking, so
judiciously, and withal so conscientiously, carried on by her husband
and son, laid her fears to rest, and effectually put a stop to her
gloomy forebodings of loss and ruin. It is true that the excellent woman
was kept a little in the dark regarding the details of the business
which was already making for the breeding establishment of Beacham and
Son a name throughout the land. The “old lady”--for by that title John’s
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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