"Why, two shillings is too much fur farm-folks lik us to give fur a pound of chocolate. It's naun but a treat, and we can do wudout it." "But we've bin drinking chocolate fur a dunnamany years now--your poor fäather always liked it--and I döan't see why we should stop it." "Look'ee, mother, I've something to tell you. I've a plan in my head, and it'll justabout mean being shut of a lot of things besides chocolate. I know fäather dudn't care much about the farm, about mäaking it grow and buying more land, and all that. But I do. I mean to buy the whole of Boarzell." There was a gasping silence. "The whole of Boarzell," repeated Reuben. He might have said the whole world, to judge by his mother's and Harry's faces. "Yes--I mean every bit, even the bit Grandturzel's got now. Squire he wöan't be sorry to sell it, and I mean to buy it piece by piece. I'll buy my first piece at the end of this year. We must start saving money at wunst. But I can't do naun wudout you help me, you two." "Wot d'you want to go buying Boarzell fur?" asked Mrs. Backfield in a bewildered voice; "the farm's präaper as it is--we döan't want it no bigger." "And Boarzell's wicked tedious stuff," put in Harry; "naun'll grow there but gorse." "I'll have a good grain growing there in five year--döan't you go doubting it. The ground wants working, that's all. And as fur not wanting the farm no bigger, that wur fäather's idea--Odiam's mine now." "Why can't we jest go on being happy and comfortable, lik we wur before?" "Because I've thought of something much grander, surelye. I'm going to mäake us all gurt people, and this a gurt farm. But you've got to help me, you and Harry." "Wot d'you want us to do?" "Well, first of all, we must save all the money we can, and not go drinking chocolate and French wine, and eating sweet puddens and all such dentical stuff. And then, Harry and me, we're valiant chaps, and there never wur enough work for us to do. I'm going to send Blackman away--Harry and I can do quite easily wudout him and save his wages." "Send away Blackman!--oh, Ben, he's bin with us fifteen year." "I döan't care if he's bin a hunderd. There äun't enough work for three men on this farm, and it's a shame to go wasting ten shilling a week. Oh, mother, can't you see how glorious it'll be? I know fäather wanted different, but I've bin thinking and dreaming of this fur years." "You always wur queer about Boarzell. But your fäather 'ud turn in his grave to think of you sending off Blackman." "He'll easily git another pläace--I'll find him one myself. And, mother--there's something more. Now you haven't got fäather to work fur, you'll find the time unaccountable long. Wot if you let Becky go, and did the cooking and that yourself?" "Oh, Reuben...."