Ex Libris 
 C. K. OGDEN 
 
 / \ 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 OLD ENGLAND
 
 A LONDON MOSAIC 
 W. L. GEORGB 
 Crown 4to. 15/- net 
 
 SOUTH WITH SCOTT 
 
 CAPTAIN E. R. G. R. EVANS, C.B., D.S.O., R.N. 
 Demy 8vo. 10/6 net 
 
 IBSEN AND HIS CREATION 
 
 JANKO L,ATRIN 
 
 Crown STO. 7/8 net
 
 //>!'-.' County ..Councif .Smal Holdings
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 A GOD'S-EYE VIEW OF A VILLAGE 
 
 * \ - h \ . , 
 
 BERNARD GILBERT 
 
 With Two Maps 
 
 LONDON: 48 PALL MALL 
 
 W. COLLINS SONS & CO. LTD. 
 
 GLASGOW MELBOURNE AUCKLAND
 
 Copyright, 1921 
 
 Manufactured in Great Britain
 
 Fletton is essentially a type, its people are to be found 
 in every village, and the author has taken the utmost 
 pains to avoid giving the offence to his many rural friends 
 which might arise from a work of this nature. 
 
 There is a hamlet of Fletton but he has never set foot 
 in it ; there was an Earldom of Coote but it is extinct ; 
 the use of common names and characters may lend colour 
 to suspicion among folk unaccustomed to being closely 
 mirrored ; but the author has not anywhere portrayed 
 a living -person. He was born and bred in the country, 
 nearly all his life has been spent there, and he knows 
 many villages intimately ; but he has avoided the use 
 of actual persons, and if any farmers, labourers, -post- 
 masters, or schoolmasters fancy themselves represented, 
 he can only say that ten thousand others will be in the 
 same -position. 
 
 During the serial appearance of portions of this work 
 the author received letters from places as far apart as 
 Cumberland, Bucks, and Devon, from people who declared 
 that he must have been in their village. Each one of the 
 several hundred souls depicted can doubtless be found 
 corresponding in name, position, and temperament in 
 some place, but these must rest assured that they have not 
 been personally put down as typical of Old England. 
 
 1OC1664
 
 PREFACE 
 
 MY DEAR ORAGE, When I first discussed with you 
 my idea of presenting an English village as a whole, 
 I little guessed that it would lead me on to such an 
 immense task. 
 
 Balzac made an heroic attempt to depict the nation 
 of his day. Despite his giant industry he needed ten 
 lives to achieve his intention, and in these so much 
 more complex days the attempt would be hopeless. 
 It is possible, however, to portray the unit with 
 which I have dealt and to show therein the factors 
 and problems of the land which are basic in rural 
 England. 
 
 To do this I had to freeze my unit and exhibit it 
 motionless. To show it in action would take as many 
 novels as there are characters. 
 
 The village is our largest social unit, being a society 
 in which every person knows everything about every 
 one, and in which the whole of the members are in 
 personal relation. Our next unit is the small market- 
 town of some 4000 inhabitants, in the least of which 
 are a number of distinct circles; but the village, 
 running up to 1000 souls, is a self-contained cosmos, 
 a large family, and has no beyond. Its soul is coherent 
 and complete. 
 
 I have taken such a village at one moment during 
 the war and endeavoured to give a camera-obscura 
 presentment of the multitudinous intrigues, ambitions, 
 desires, disputes, interests, and all the social, political, 
 financial, sexual and religious factors which thread 
 the fabric so closely. 
 
 My inspiration was drawn from the writers who 
 
 vii
 
 PREFACE 
 
 have influenced me most : Bunyan, Defoe, and Landor. 
 If Bunyan had been so minded we should now have 
 a picture of the village of Elstow beyond price. 
 Landor could have done it wonderfully; his Conver- 
 sations are almost entirely static; and although he 
 became dynamic when he spread his wings, his general 
 inclination is toward static presentment. 
 
 When I came face to face with my problem I 
 searched for predecessors. Hardy's Dynasts takes an 
 epoch as its unit and is essentially dramatic; Crabbe's 
 Borough, though covering to some extent a rural 
 scene, was not what I was seeking for, and gave me 
 no help. The Spoon River Anthology^ though a strong 
 and immensely striking work, is only a series of 
 detached epitaphs, and Masters made no attempt to 
 present a community. 
 
 As there are no prior examples of the static form 
 discoverable, I had to deal with the technical problems 
 as they arose. The characters explain themselves 
 and throw light on each other; and all of them 
 together set forth their village as an entity. 
 
 In my youth I was taught that there was an omni- 
 scient Being to whom everything was present at each 
 instant, and it was this state of complete comprehension 
 with which I wished to endow the reader. Such a 
 state supposes a knowledge of each character and 
 each relationship and a simultaneous view of every 
 one of a vast complexity of interweaving strands. 
 
 There is no hero or heroine; no one character is 
 more important than another; nor is there any villain. 
 It is the ancient democracy of the Feudal System, the 
 one which has stayed longest in our history and which 
 has its roots deeper and more firmly in the soil of 
 Old England than town-dwellers can guess or know. 
 
 BERNARD GILBERT. 
 
 Manor House Hospital, 
 Hampstead, 1921. 
 
 viii
 
 EXTRACT FROM COUNTY DIRECTORY 
 
 Fletton (not to be confused with Fletton, Hunts) is 
 a parish and village on the road from Ely to Barkston, 
 eight miles south-west of Ely (the nearest railway 
 station) in the Western Division of the County. 
 . . . The Church of St Nicholas, partially rebuilt in 
 1882, when the spire was destroyed in a great storm, 
 is a structure of flint and rubble, with stone facings 
 in the Early Pointed Style of the thirteenth century. 
 . . . There are five partially stained windows in the 
 chancel, which retains its piscina and sedilia; in the 
 south aisle is the rood loft staircase. . . . The 
 register dates from the year 1583, but is in a very 
 confused state. The living is a vicarage, net yearly 
 rental 299, with residence, in the gift of the Earl of 
 Fletton, and held since 1898 by the Rev. Osmond 
 Roderick Lome, M.A., of Keble College, Oxford. 
 Here is a Primitive Methodist chapel, erected in 
 1 86 1, a Calvinistic-Baptist chapel, erected in 1866, 
 and a Wesleyan-Methodist chapel, erected in 1868. 
 The Earl of Fletton is lord of the manor, and sole 
 landowner with the exception of a freehold farm 
 the Grange of 208 acres, the property of Davis 
 Mogg, Esquire. The ' Towers,' one of the seats 
 of the Fletton family, was built by Aubrey Llewellyn, 
 first Earl, A.D. 1664. . . . The Great Park was 
 ploughed up by the ninth Earl (noted for his treatise 
 on Husbandry); the grounds and gardens amounting 
 now only to 84 acres. . . . The area of the parish 
 is 9804 acres.
 
 EXTRACT FROM COUNTY DIRECTORY 
 
 Sexton Hucklebury Oldfield. 
 
 Posf, M.O., and T. Office Newton Ambrose, sub- 
 postmaster. 
 
 Police Station Joseph Daniels, Inspector; and one 
 constable. 
 
 SCHOOLS. Church (Mixed] Hamilton Dring, master. 
 Council Girls and Infants Miss M. Harker, 
 mistress. 
 
 Carriers to Ely J. Sharpies and J. Thomson (Tuesday 
 Stock Market; Saturday Corn Market). 
 
 PRIVATE RESIDENTS. 
 
 Fletton, Earl of, The Towers, and Carlton, 
 
 Bath, and Athenaeum Clubs. 
 Kyme, The Hon. Eustace, The Dower House. 
 Berry, Josephus, L.S.A., M.R.C.S. 
 Burrows, Esau. 
 Ferrett, Phineas. 
 Hanbury, James. 
 Hicks, Enderby, M.R.C.V.S. 
 Key, Mrs William. 
 Lome, Rev. O. R., M.A. 
 Lowe, Amelia. 
 Lowe, Jeremiah. 
 
 INNS Full Licences. 
 
 Golden Cross J. Harvey. 
 Coach and Horses J. Ruston. 
 Mill Inn L. Stower. 
 Ship InnH. Wells. 
 Off-Licences. 
 
 Joe Barks, Jeff Sharpies, D. Coulson, Fred 
 Makins, Seth Jordan, Smith Rook, Jas. 
 Toulson. 
 
 COUNTY COUNCILLOR. S. Dane.
 
 EXTRACT FROM COUNTY DIRECTORY 
 
 DISTRICT COUNCILLORS S. Dane and P. Todd. 
 
 PARISH COUNCIL. Chairman T. Rowett. Clerk 
 H. Oldfield. Members J. Challands, I. Creasey, 
 F. Dobney, L. Fletcher, D. Mogg, T. Stower, 
 J. Toulson, A. Woods, H. Woolerton. 
 
 MANUAL FIRE ENGINE. Captain H. Wells.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 STANZAS 
 
 AMBROSE, LENA 88 
 
 AMBROSE, NEWTON 19 
 
 ATKIN, BUTLER, * YOUNG* 4 
 
 BARKS, GEORGE 44 
 
 BARKS, JOE 28 
 
 BARKS, TOM 132 
 
 BARLEY, ALEXANDER 68 
 
 BARLEY, OLIVER 125 
 
 BARLEY, MRS O. 155 
 
 BAVIN, NICHOL 149 
 
 BAVIN, TOM 86 
 
 BAVIN, WILL 162 
 
 BEAN, BILLY 7 
 
 BELLAMY, ANN 47 
 
 BELLAMY, MOSES 168 
 
 BENNINGTON, GUSTAVUS 31 
 
 BENTON, MATTHEW 170 
 
 BERRY, CYRUS 183 
 BERRY, DR 17, 105 
 
 ' BLIND ' JOHNNY TAYLOR 85 
 
 BONES, J. E. (CUNNING JIM) 141 
 
 BORKMAN, JOSEF 114 
 
 BOWLES, THOMAS 62 
 
 BOWLES, MRS THOMAS 102 
 
 BOWLES, WILLIAM 58 
 
 BOWLES, MRS WILLIAM 97 
 
 BUGG, MRS POLLY 108 
 
 BURROWS, CARTWRIGHT 145 
 
 BURROWS, ESAU 54 
 
 BURROWS, LOTTIE 95
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 BURROWS, TOM 135 
 
 BURTONSHAW, EMMA 14 
 
 CHALLANDS, JACKSON 53 
 
 CHALLANDS, VIOLET 80 
 
 CLUB FOOT GEORGE see GEORGE PRATT 
 
 COBBLER GEORGE see GEORGE GOOSE 
 
 COOK, ALBERT, JR. 130 
 
 COOK, HANNAH 41 
 
 COOK, JOHN 139 
 
 COOK, LAURA 109 
 
 COOTE, MAURICE FITZHERBERT 2$ 
 
 COULSON, DAVID 57 
 
 COUNTESS, THE 120 
 
 CREASEY, EMMANUEL 91 
 
 CREASEY, ISAAC 90 
 
 CREASEY, JANE 138 
 
 CREASEY, JOB 107 
 
 CREASEY, MARIA 96 
 
 CREASEY, NOAH 49 
 
 CREASEY, SUSANNAH 113 
 
 CULLEN, ALFRED 169 
 
 CULLEN, MERCY 103 
 
 CUNNING JIM see BONES, J. E. 
 
 CUTTS, ANN 8 1 
 
 CUTTS, BOB 
 CUTTS, JOE 
 DANE, ANTHONY 
 DANE, NEVIL 
 DANE, SOLOMON 
 DANE, MRS SOLOMON 
 DANIELS, INSPECTOR 
 DAWSON, SHEP 
 DOBNEY, ELIZA 
 DOBNEY, ELLEN 
 DOBNEY, FREDERICK 
 DOBNEY, MRS FREDERICK
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 DOBNEY, HERBERT 
 DODDS, ELIZA 
 DODDS, JIMMY 
 DODDS, NATHANIEL 
 DODDS, ROBERT 
 DRING, HAMILTON 
 
 EARL, THE 
 EDGERLEY, ALGERNON 
 EDGERLEY, MRS 
 ELVIN, JOSEPH 
 ENDERBY, MORTON 
 
 FERRETT, LAWYER 
 FERRETT, MONTAGUE 
 ' FITZ,' LORD 
 FLETCHER, LUKE 
 
 FuLLERTON, CuRTIS 
 
 GOOSE, GEORGE 
 GOOSE, JOHN JOSEPH 
 
 HANBURY, JAMES 
 HARKER, MINNIE 
 HARKER, WIDOW 
 HARROD, PETER 
 HARROD, MRS WALKER 
 HARVEY, JACOB 
 HEMSLEY, HARRY 
 HEMSLEY, WIDOW 
 HICKS, ANNIE 
 HICKS, ENDERBY 
 HIDES, BANNISTER 
 HIDES, BANNISTER, JNR. 
 HODGSON, JOHN 
 HODGSON, OBADIAH 
 HOLMES, HARRIET
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 HOLMES, MOLLER 16 
 
 HOLMES, REUBEN 24 
 
 HURCOMB-KNATT, ADELA 136 
 
 JACKSON, GRANNY 140 
 
 JACKSON, PEG-LEG 137 
 
 JACKSON, WALTER 82 
 
 JAMESON, ' CAPTAIN ' 39 
 
 JENKINS, OLD GEORGE 192 
 
 JORDAN (SETH) SADDLER 2 
 
 JORKINS, HIRAM 121 
 
 KEY, BESSIE 75 
 
 KEY, JACK 89 
 
 KEY, WIDOW 184 
 
 KING, JERRY 30 
 
 KING, MARY 63 
 
 KING, SUSAN 51 
 
 KYME, HON. EUSTACE 93 
 
 KYME, LT. GEOFFREY 187 
 
 LONGTHORNE, ANDREW $2 
 
 LONGTHORNE, GfiORGINA 158 
 
 LORNE, MRS OSMOND 3, 175 
 
 LOWE, AMELIA 101 
 
 LOWE, JEREMIAH 94 
 
 MAKINS, JOE 92 
 
 MAKINS, SARAH 10 
 
 MAPLETHORPE, SNIP 126 
 
 MOGG, ANGELINA 15 
 
 MOGG, ARTHUR 45 
 
 MOGG, DAVIS 6 
 
 MOGG, MRS DAVIS 146 
 
 MOGG, GWINNY 191 
 
 MORGAN, JULIUS 23 
 
 MUNKS, JESSE 1 18 
 
 xvi
 
 OLDFIELD, AMELIA 
 OLDFIELD, HUCKLEBURY 
 OLDFIELD, RUFUS 
 OVERTON, BILL 
 OVERTON, FRED 
 OVERTON, JOHN 
 OVERTON, MAUD 
 OVERTON, MOLL 
 
 PINION, ' GENTLEMAN ' 
 PINION, MILDRED 
 POTTERTON, ELI 
 PRATT, AMOS 
 PRATT, GEORGE 
 
 ROOK, SMITH 
 ROWETT, ETHEL 
 ROWETT, THOMPSON 
 RUSTON, JAPHET 
 RUSTON, WALLACE 
 RUSTON, MRS WALLACE 
 
 SHARPLES, ADAM 
 SHARPLES, JEFF 
 SKINNER, DANIEL 
 SKINNER, MOSES 
 SMART, ABRAHAM 
 SMITHSON, AUNT HILDA 
 SMITHSON, JANE 
 SMITHSON, PIGGY 
 SNEATH, ABEL 
 STENNETT, NEHEMIAH 
 STOWER, LYNN 
 STOWER, TOMMY 
 STOWER, MRS TOMMY 
 SWIFT, ADOLPHUS 
 SWINTON, ISAIAH 
 
 SwiNTON, JOSIAH
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 TAYLOR, J. see BLIND JOHNNY 
 
 THARP, AARON 179 
 
 THOMSON, JOSEPH 46 
 
 TODD, DAVID 177 
 
 TODD, GEORGE 127 
 
 TODD, PETER 99 
 
 TOULSON, JAMES 166 
 
 TOWNSEND, ARCHIBALD 112 
 
 TOWNSEND, HAMILCAR 159 
 
 VICAR, THE 129 
 VISCOUNT, THE 22, 157 
 
 WADDY, * AUSTRALIAN * 8 
 
 WADDY, ' GRANDFATHER ' 26 
 
 WADDY, SAMUEL 70 
 
 WADDY, MRS SAMUEL 151 
 
 WARDLE, ARBUTHNOT, M.P. 128 
 
 WELLS, HILTON 190 
 
 WELLS, JABEZ 43 
 
 WELLS, MRS JABEZ 188 
 
 WILDERS, MARY 77 
 
 WILLIAMSON, ADAH 124 
 
 WILLIAMSON, BETTY 83 
 
 WILLIAMSON, LEAH 86 
 
 WILLIAMSON, TIMOTHY 36 
 
 WlNTERBOURNE, ENOCH 48 
 
 WlNTERBOURNE, MRS E. 189 
 
 WOODS, ANTHONY 56 
 
 WOOLERTON, HENRY 55 
 
 WOOLERTON, JANE 20
 
 I THE EARL 
 
 I am monarch of all I survey, 
 
 Or very nearly; 
 
 From Fletton Towers' topmost turret 
 
 Your eye may roam 
 
 Over the fairest stretch of England ; 
 
 Farm after farm, field after field, 
 
 Rolling and swelling toward the horizon : 
 
 All mine! 
 
 The tenantry and tradesmen touch their hats 
 
 And raise no murmur at the slight damage 
 
 Said to be caused by game 
 
 (Allowed for in the rent) : 
 
 My grandfather nine times removed, 
 
 Whose name I bear, and not I hope unworthily, 
 
 Geoffrey Llewellyn Aubrey Warrington Coote, 
 
 Was lord and master of these lands, 
 
 With feudal rights and powers, 
 
 Long ere the Guelphs came up from Hanover. 
 
 I have preserved those rights religiously, 
 
 And hope to pass them on untouched 
 
 To my dear son my eldest 
 
 Who will uphold the family of Coote, 
 
 Which, like an ancient oak, 
 
 With roots below the surface deeply spread, 
 
 Stretches its arms in majesty as far as eye can see. 
 
 There is, alas ! one drawback to my happiness : 
 
 Just where yon coppice runs, 
 
 I deeply mourn to say, 
 
 One Mogg, a low-lived Welshman, 
 
 By some mean knavery secured the freehold, 
 
 Leaving it to his son; 
 
 And though all means have been attempted
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 By Ferrett, my trusty lawyer, 
 
 He will not yield, the stubborn brute; 
 
 And owing to the sham humanitarianism 
 
 Which blights the present century, 
 
 I cannot exercise my undoubted privileges to remove 
 
 him; 
 
 It spoils my peace; 
 My son, my clever boy, must get it; 
 Then I shall rest in peace beside eleven forefathers. 
 
 2. SADDLER (SETH) JORDAN 
 
 I don't want no better world than this, 
 
 Spite of what parsons say, 
 
 Beer's good, and tobacco, and there's good things to eat ; 
 
 Ducks, geese, turkeys, chickens, and game; 
 
 Between bacon and ham I never could choose, 
 
 Coz I never got tired of either. 
 
 What's better than leaning over a pigsty, 
 
 Scratching the fattest 
 
 And counting the days to Christmas ? 
 
 It makes you feel holier inside than any church. 
 
 There's coursing, hunting, ferreting, skating, 
 
 Shooting pheasants, wood-pigeons, and rooks, 
 
 After the wild-fowl across Washover Marshes in 
 
 winter, 
 
 And sweetest, mebbe, of all, a bit of poaching. 
 I wouldn't swap with nobody 
 Not with our long-nosed Earl 
 What daren't bend for fear of breaking, 
 Nor Parson who mayn't squint at a woman for fear of 
 
 his skinny wife, 
 
 Nor Townsend with his great business, 
 Nor Smithson with his thousand pigs, 
 Nor whey-faced Woolerton, nor that old Ferrett 
 What cannot bite nor sup like honest mortal,
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 But lives on pap for fear of belly-ache : 
 
 They might as well be dead! 
 
 Only one thing I've missed: 
 
 A bit of land; 
 
 I could have done with fifty acres to this saddler's shop ; 
 
 Then I should have wanted nothing. 
 
 But land's harder to come by in Fletton than a virgin : 
 
 You can't have everything. 
 
 3. MRS OSMOND LORNE 
 
 My dearest husband, my Osmond, 
 
 Vicar of Fletton, beloved of the parishioners, 
 
 Lacks one thing only: 
 
 He is not strong enough against the wicked. 
 
 Although I urge him to evict that dreadful Bavin, 
 
 He still refuses to bring lawful pressure. 
 
 For many years outside our door 
 
 The woman has lived with him, 
 
 Insulting me when I approached her 
 
 To suggest their legalising the union, 
 
 And close this terrible scandal. 
 
 When I pass her door with jellies 
 
 I see her horrid face 
 
 Jeering at me because I have no children 
 
 But no, that is not Christian ! 
 
 I must not own it even to myself; 
 
 My anger is on moral grounds alone. 
 
 Osmond refuses to press the agent 
 
 To evict the wretch who poisons all my life. 
 
 I have reasoned with Osmond until I am desperate, 
 
 And I cannot use compulsion, as some wives do, 
 
 For reasons I may not enter into here. 
 
 Although of course he is entirely faithful, 
 
 I've noticed him looking at the housemaid: 
 
 Amy shall go to-morrow. 
 
 3
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 4. * YOUNG ' BUTLER ATKIN 
 
 When the war broke out 
 
 The Earl spoke by the Village Pump 
 
 And said as we were threatened by the Kaiser 
 
 To work without wages, weekdays and Sundays, 
 
 And German foremen with whips to keep us going 
 
 If us single fellows didn't 'list. 
 
 So I left my sweetheart my little Minnie Harker. . . . 
 
 [There's a plane!] 
 
 The war wasn't all it was said to be, 
 
 The ground not properly drained, 
 
 Tiny fields with onions growing in every gateway; 
 
 The folks was measly and undersized 
 
 And couldn't talk plain English, 
 
 Otherwise it was much the same as here; 
 
 And now I'm back without an arm: 
 
 Only what did we go for ? 
 
 Our captain at Wipers said us heroes should have land, 
 
 But I can't even get an allotment, 
 
 'Cos Billy Bean has father's 
 
 The one next to the ruined Tower 
 
 On account of a few old thistles and a trifle of back rent. 
 
 Why can't the Earl give a field 
 
 To make more plots like they have at Hordle; 
 
 I guess the Germans would have took his land 
 
 If we hadn't pushed at Wipers. 
 
 The Agent pokes his nose up in the air 
 
 And says the County Council in good time may do 
 
 something. 
 Now, I ask you ! 
 They're all the biggest farmers 
 Will they give up their land to the likes of us ? 
 They'd sooner dig trenches around their farms 
 And die in 'em. 
 
 If I'd a known as Billy Bean would do such a trick 
 I wouldn't a gone. 
 
 4
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 i 
 
 5. ' GENTLEMAN ' PINION 
 
 Our Agent is a gentleman, thank goodness, 
 
 But things were sadly wrong; 
 
 I own it freely now, on looking back: 
 
 How could they help it at the ruling prices, 
 
 And a position like mine to maintain ? 
 
 I hadn't a fortune to start with, like Edgerley, 
 
 Who is really too absurd! 
 
 Only creatures like Stower 
 
 Who stoop to any dishonourable trick, 
 
 Or the awful Hides 
 
 With his raucous voice and leather neck, 
 
 Who bullies every one and beats down the tradespeople 
 to the last halfpenny, 
 
 Could hope to prosper. 
 
 I can't stoop to their level, 
 
 Unworthy of a gentleman farmer and a Pinion. 
 
 But the war saved me, 
 
 I am better off than ever, 
 
 And if it only keeps on for a reasonable time 
 
 I shall be in quite a strong position. 
 
 I own there was one moment when things looked 
 awkward, 
 
 But they decided (as they were bound to) 
 
 That farmers couldn't possibly be taken to fight along- 
 side their labourers. 
 
 I lent my motor to the Military 
 
 At barely what it cost, 
 
 And sold them my hay and straw without a murmur : 
 
 The cheque from the Government has paid Townsend's 
 seed and manure account 
 
 Which was keeping me awake at nights. 
 
 The Prime Minister says our fields are our trenches, 
 
 And that we farmers can win the war; 
 
 Everything, he says, depends on us, 
 
 5
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 And we shall do our best 
 
 As long as they don't fix prices too low. 
 
 I wish father could have lived until now; 
 
 He talked so much about how FreeTrade ruined farmers 
 
 And said 'A time would cornel ': 
 
 It really does seem satisfactory to be patriotic and make 
 
 money at the same time; 
 
 Yet there are some who say we ought to be fighting. 
 What would become of my farm if I went ? 
 I've a good foreman on the Priory 
 But he needs the eye of a master. 
 
 6. DAVIS MOGG 
 
 These tenant farmers are a sneaking crew, 
 
 Crawling on their faces before the Agent 
 
 And shouting for the Tory candidate, 
 
 Ready to lick anybody's boots. 
 
 I Davis Mogg 
 
 Stand on my feet a true-born Briton 
 
 To meet the banded powers of tyranny 
 
 Who plot and strive to rob me of my land. 
 
 They have all tried their hardest, 
 
 From Ferrett, that thieving lawyer, to the parson ; 
 
 Offering me another farm in exchange 
 
 Outside their ' holy ' ground, 
 
 Or the next tenancy of their richest holding 
 
 On one of their other Estates; 
 
 As if I should ! 
 
 Failing that, the sneaks have done their worst 
 
 With lawsuits and threats, tempting away my labour, 
 
 Over-running me with game, and such-like tricks. 
 
 I've bested them all. 
 
 What makes 'em maddest, 
 
 I keep the chapel up, that father built; 
 
 On Sunday mornings, 
 
 Led by old Winterbourne the tenor, 
 
 6
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 We march around the village singing hymns: 
 
 Old-fashioned tunes that make the heart rejoice. 
 
 Yet there are always drawbacks somewhere : 
 
 That Parish Field, the richest hereabout, 
 
 Goes with my farm by rights 
 
 What business have Parish Councils to own land ? 
 
 Allotments are the root of evil, 
 
 Taking labourers from their work. 
 
 Now if I had that twenty acres, 'twould just round off 
 
 the Grange. 
 
 A year ago the Parish Council couldn't get their rents, 
 Whilst thistles were the only crop in sight, 
 And they were nearly in a mind to let me have it, 
 When Billy Bean rushed in and took three plots : 
 Why don't he stick to bricks and mortar ? 
 I wish he'd tumble off a roof 
 Not to kill himself 
 But just enough to learn him better, 
 And keep him off the land 
 What belongs by rights to me. 
 
 Is that Mr Bennington coming down the Back Lane ? 
 No! as I live, it's Bob Cutts! 
 
 They manage things better in my native place: 
 Cutts wouldn't be allowed to interfere in Llantyfechan. 
 I had the Primitives, Stower the Wesleyans, and Ike 
 
 Creasey most of the Baptists well in hand, 
 And we should have given Wardle a fearful smashing. 
 The united Nonconformist vote was also to put 
 
 Stower in the County Council, me in the District 
 
 Council, and Creasey in the Chair of the Parish 
 
 Council, 
 Uprooting those reactionary brutes Todd and Sol 
 
 Dane: 
 Now all our beautiful plans are ruined by this 
 
 bastard tailor.
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 I'm sorry I let Winterbourne persuade me to stand for 
 
 the District Council ; 
 If I agree to the Chapel backing Cutts I lose Stower's 
 
 and Creasey's help, 
 Whilst if I work for Bennington our folk will turn 
 
 against me: 
 Politics is a bad business. 
 
 7. BILLY BEAN 
 
 It's no use shouting for more houses, 
 
 Nor pigstys neither, as I tell Mr Toulson : 
 
 You can't build without bricks 
 
 Unless you're going back to clay walls and thatch, 
 
 same as Hordle, 
 
 And if the Government don't soon provide 'em 
 I shall give up bricklaying 
 And take more allotments. 
 Don't I manage three now in my spare time ? 
 My mother used to say that I should be a farmer, 
 And why not ? 
 
 My three plots is a sight to see, 
 
 While the others has more thistle-nobs than potato-tops, 
 And Mr Williamson says my Up-to-Dates are the 
 
 finest about: 
 They remind you of the old Magnum Bonums we had 
 
 when I was a boy. 
 The Council should cut Mogg's Grange up for 
 
 holdings; 
 
 It belonged to the village in the olden days : 
 Nobody ought to have more than twenty acres. 
 They say Lawyer Ferrett is getting a petition for us to 
 
 sign, 
 
 And then we shall get a share, 
 While Mogg will be put into another farm 
 Which the Earl is kindly fixing for him. 
 Won't Mogg be pleased!
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 8. AUSTRALIAN WADDY 
 
 Being fixed in England on long leave 
 
 I thought I'd take the opportunity, before returning 
 
 to the front, 
 
 To have a squint at the village 
 Where father was fired out by some nobleman because 
 
 he wouldn't go to church. 
 Blamed if I didn't find an old boy who claimed he was 
 
 my grandad : 
 
 He was old enough to play the part, 
 And full of chatter when primed with ale. 
 He didn't seem upset about the old church affair, 
 And made out quite a different reason why they tarred 
 
 and feathered dad and run him out of the village 
 
 one Saturday night on a rail. 
 It might be so! 
 
 Not that anything would upset grandad; 
 He'd swap the family Bible with all the names written 
 
 in it for half a pound of tobacco. 
 I must say he's stuck to his guns, 
 And I'm proud of him. 
 Fletton's not a bad place for a holiday 
 I've had a rare run 
 But she says it's not safe for us to meet any longer in 
 
 the same spot, 
 
 So we're going to try the Ruined Tower; 
 No one goes there at night. 
 
 9. JOHN JOSEPH GOOSE 
 
 Between me losing my last two teeth 
 
 And the war taking all the bite out of the whisky, 
 
 I'd as lief be dead as alive. 
 
 Last of the old Gulland bargemen, 
 
 9
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 I learnt my trade before the railway came; 
 
 My skin's that tough a knife won't cut it, 
 
 And my fist's like applewood knots 
 
 As many found. 
 
 Fletton village is run by grocers and local preachers 
 
 now ; 
 
 But how the hell can men be reared on milk ? 
 In my young days Fletton was something like! 
 The pubs a-go all night wi' lights and noise, 
 Men and girls, and music, and fighting 
 On Sunday morning by the Pump, stripped to their 
 
 waists. 
 
 Where's all the old farmers gone ? 
 Bob Pratt, Jabe Toynbee, Andrew Key, Henry 
 
 Makins, and the others ? 
 We've Mogg the Welsh thief, 
 The two Danes, a sheep, and a wolf 
 Todd an old fox, Hides a shark, 
 And young Pinion 
 
 What calls himself a gentleman farmer, 
 Having his dinner at supper-time, and a fool for a 
 
 wife. 
 I could farm better with one hand. 
 
 10. SARAH MAKINS 
 
 Things went well at the beginning of the War; 
 I was rich on the separation allowance, 
 With what I earned atop of that; 
 Now Joe's come back with a gamey leg 
 And spends his pension on booze. 
 He used to work from light till dark, 
 (Mr Challand said the best man in Fletton, 
 Though he never paid him extra); 
 Now nobody wants him regular 
 Because he won't stick 
 
 10
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 And grumbles against them what never went to fight, 
 
 While I have to work my fingers to the bone, 
 
 Like I did before the war. 
 
 It don't go down so well now. 
 
 Walker Harrod got himself killed, and his missis is all 
 
 right ^ 
 
 With nothing to bother about as long as she lives : 
 Some women have all the luck. 
 
 n. MINNIE HARKER 
 
 Miss Burtonshaw is too haughty for anything; 
 
 I'm really afraid of her, 
 
 And so is her class. 
 
 (I haven't the heart to punish mine.) 
 
 Never shall I forget how Jennie Cook squealed ! 
 
 That was the day the vicar stayed behind, 
 
 After I'd dismissed the school-children, 
 
 And put his hand on my ankle 
 
 As I sat above him on the platform. 
 
 You can't wear much in the hot weather, 
 
 But fancy him, 
 
 Respected by all and over sixty: 
 
 Of course his wife is flat-chested. 
 
 12. NEHEMIAH STENNETT 
 
 I often wish I'd stopped in Ely 
 
 Where there was plenty of life, 
 
 Instead of settling down here with Sally Overton. 
 
 There's no trade to speak of, excepting Saturday 
 
 nights 
 When they come from the farthest Fens for a weekly 
 
 shave, 
 And turn all my blades with their stubble. 
 
 IX
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 When I'm running the razor round the Agent's neck 
 
 I'd like to nick it, 
 Only that wouldn't lower the rent. 
 Nobody ever gets the better of the Earl 
 Because he owns the land. 
 This very shop is leasehold, 
 And soon falls in to be renewed at more than double 
 
 rent, 
 
 Unless I get round Herbert Dobney. 
 Last night, returning from the Towers, 
 Where by appointment I waited on the Earl 
 To trim his hair, 
 
 I lost the footpath through the grounds, 
 The evening being dusk, 
 And, walking quiet over grass, 
 Peeped through the window of a summerhouse 
 And saw the Lady Betty the Agent's wife 
 In the arms of Oliver Waddy: 
 Fancy! A private! 
 
 But they're not like our lads those Australians. 
 She was as tight in his arms as she could be, 
 And didn't get out scot-free if I know Waddy: 
 Not that she'd want to by all accounts. 
 These little bits of information 
 Are valuable if used properly. 
 
 13. LAWYER FERRETT (I) 
 
 There's nothing so wonderful in the world as a spider 
 
 Sitting quietly away from the web in a corner; 
 
 You can't see him, but wait until something touches 
 
 the cord! 
 
 Folks think because my name is Ferrett 
 That I run about to suck blood. 
 That's nonsense: I don't have to: 
 Any lawyer in a country village can get rich
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 If he's not a perfect fool; 
 
 He's like a grown man amongst children. 
 
 Seeing how fat they're getting out of the war 
 
 With no taxes to pay, 
 
 Either Income, Super, or Excess-Profits, 
 
 And no obligation for military service 
 
 Either for their sons or their labourers, 
 
 It only seems right that some one should take a 
 
 dividend from them: 
 My little Monty will do with it; 
 He is all I have to work for. 
 
 Unknown to Fletton I am buying Pantacks Manor: 
 One thousand eight hundred and seventeen acres, 
 All in a Ring Fence with a good House. 
 Before I die I mean to pay off every penny, 
 For he wants three thousand acres to make himself 
 
 secure. 
 
 English land will go up and up and up: 
 It's the best security in the world: 
 It's the only real security. 
 [That must be an aeroplane! 
 Jenny heard it before I did.] 
 
 14. EMMA BURTONSHAW 
 
 I came to Fletton because London was killing me; 
 But I'd rather return 
 
 Than my soul should perish amongst barbarians. 
 It isn't so much the girls' mistress, Minnie Harker, 
 Whose classroom I daren't go into after hours 
 For fear of seeing what I couldn't pretend not to, 
 For towns are immoral too, 
 And on the whole I prefer it to be open; 
 All the men here are certainly lustful brutes, 
 Excepting the saintly vicar with his silver hair; 
 But as I say it's not men's sensuality, 
 It's their cruelty that horrifies me: 
 
 13
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 I suppose because I'd never dreamt of it. 
 
 They torture dumb animals all day long, 
 
 And every farm is like the old Inquisition. 
 
 Yesterday at the blacksmith's Swinton's 
 
 Rufus Oldfield held a horse with the cruel ' twitch ' 
 
 Twisted around its nostrils 
 
 So that it trembled with agony : 
 
 They were ' firing ' it 
 
 To get some extra money for the farmer; 
 
 And though the smell of burning flesh made me go 
 into a field and be sick until tea-time 
 
 No one seemed to think anything about it. 
 
 I suppose Longfellow would have written an ode to 
 the blacksmith, 
 
 And Tennyson one to the farmer. 
 
 There's a loutish fellow called Bones, 
 
 And what goes on at his place, as told by the children 
 
 (Who enjoy it), 
 
 Only a Russian novelist would describe. 
 
 If I were a Charlotte Corday or a militant feminist, 
 
 I'd cut his throat with a very sharp knife 
 
 To draw attention to the horror 
 
 That covers this pleasant countryside, 
 
 Where they all believe that foxes like being hunted, 
 
 That fish enjoy hooks in their throats, horses being 
 spurred, docked, fired, and flogged; and that 
 birds and beasts are naturally meant to be 
 maimed, racked, torn, shot to pieces, left in holes 
 to die of wounds or poison, or perish slowly in 
 traps. 
 
 I apologise to the Inquisition; 
 
 It had a moral purpose (of a kind); 
 
 It didn't torture anybody to get up an appetite or 
 relieve its liver, 
 
 Or bring in a profit ; 
 
 Nor, so far as I know, did it plead in justification that 
 the victims didn't really mind.
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 15. ANGELINA MOGG 
 
 How I hate the Chapel! 
 
 If only handsome Nevil Dane would look at me 
 instead of that painted Edgerley doll, who's no 
 good to any man, I'd go to church in a minute. 
 
 We Moggs are unlucky in love: 
 
 Look at Gwin ! 
 
 Whilst Arthur moons about trying to see Lady Betty; 
 
 If he went into the Dower House garden about half- 
 past ten at night he'd see more of her than he 
 bargained for; 
 
 When he does find out he'll do something reckless. 
 
 I expect Vi Challands will catch him, seeing that's the 
 very worst that could happen. 
 
 Just because I won't wed until all hope of Nevil's gone, 
 
 Every married man from Tubby Ambrose to David 
 Todd thinks I'm fair game. 
 
 I suppose I must make my mind up to Anthony Dane : 
 
 Nevil would have to call on his Aunt. 
 
 1 6. MOLLER HOLMES 
 
 Oliver Waddy's persuading fellows to go to Australia 
 
 after the war, 
 But who's going to Australia when the best land's at 
 
 home ? 
 
 We're going to have it, too ; 
 A Labour Government is coming, 
 And all them that works on the land is to own it; 
 As is only just and right. 
 
 Why should one man keep all the land in Fletton, 
 And them guzzling tenants, 
 Like Challand and Hides and Todd, 
 Farm hundreds of acres, which they don't half till, 
 
 15 c
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 At a third the rent we would gladly pay ? 
 
 They never do any work except ride to market and 
 
 wear out pub seats. 
 Us what labour will take the land and not sneak off to 
 
 Australia. 
 
 We've a meeting of the new Union to-night at Hordle, 
 To decide whether we shall strike in harvest. 
 (What's that aeroplane doing ?) 
 It's no good Jesse Munks and Bob Cutts talking 
 
 about more wages; 
 We don't want a quid a day, 
 We want land. 
 And, by God! we're going to have it. 
 
 17. DOCTOR BERRY 
 
 A village doctor is something like God 
 
 In that he reads all hearts 
 
 And guesses the Almighty has the heartache. 
 
 Fletton's a nest of ants, 
 
 Full of intrigue, passion, avarice, and lust ; 
 
 Disease threading the pattern with its crimson strand, 
 
 Foul water everywhere, no sanitation, 
 
 And centres of infection like Minnie Harker 
 
 Quietly spreading V.D. in every direction. 
 
 A whited sepulchre, this bucolic paradise! 
 
 The men think of nothing but women and money 
 
 And getting more land; 
 
 The women think of men when they have time, 
 
 Even that anaemic virgin Miss Burtonshaw, 
 
 Who suffers from repression and the usual hysteria. 
 
 There's one good thing, 
 
 Daniels is a sensible fellow, 
 
 And when the bastards are quietly overlaid 
 
 As happens every month or so 
 
 He makes no more fuss than I do: 
 
 16
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 What's the use ? 
 
 The vicar's wife and the nurse try to poke their noses 
 
 in, 
 
 But we shut them out. 
 Perhaps the real curse is lawyer Ferrett, 
 Who stands for property with a big P. 
 I know why in revolutions they hang lawyers first: 
 Not that there's any need to kill Ferrett, 
 He hasn't six months to live: 
 Won't the poor rejoice, 
 The asses! 
 
 As if there aren't plenty more. 
 (I hear the wheels of a trap : 
 Some farmer with the toothache.) 
 
 1 8. JACOB HARVEY 
 
 When father came from Hordle 
 
 To manage the Golden Cross 
 
 I was but a baby; 
 
 It was a long rambling thatched house, 
 
 And I took it over when a barrel fell on father's head 
 
 As he slept in the cellar, 
 
 I'm one of the oldest inhabitants 
 
 And can remember everything: 
 
 The Great Fire, when burning thatch flew like hail; 
 
 The storm what knocked ten yards off the steeple ; 
 
 Farmer Benton's calf with eight legs; the gipsies' 
 
 battle; 
 
 Hare PetchelPs suicide; 
 
 Granny Jackson having a new tooth at eighty-three; 
 The Toll Gate being pulled down, 
 The rats eating old Blow, 
 The last time Japhet Ruston crossed the river; 
 And everything of note for nigh a century. 
 Things ain't what they was in Fletton; 
 
 17
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 The teetotals rules us now: 
 
 Look at the withered creatures! 
 
 No wonder their wives are always creeping out to 
 
 prayer meetings on dark nights, 
 And losing the way home. 
 
 (My first used to do that, but I know better now.) 
 The Feast has fell to nothing; 
 And the village isn't a shadow of its old self. 
 I've nothing to do but stand here in the sun 
 There's a stranger coming down the street, 
 It looked at first like the Doctor 
 His boots are dusty and he'll want a drink : 
 MISSIS! 
 
 19 NEWTON AMBROSE 
 
 If you were interested in what went on around you, 
 
 Not vulgarly curious, of course, 
 
 But taking notice of local affairs and the well-being of 
 
 your neighbours, 
 And especially relations 
 (For blood's thicker than water, 
 And always more inclined to boil over); 
 And supposing you were postmaster, 
 So all the telegrams went through your hands 
 And the cards and letters with their tell-tale postmarks, 
 So that you knew the truth amongst a pack of lies ; 
 And s'pose you went to the Golden Cross or the Ship 
 
 at night 
 
 To sit mum whilst folks talked big, 
 Able at any second to knock them flat, 
 And all the time you not only couldn't open your 
 
 mouth 
 But daren't so much as let your face show what lies 
 
 they were telling, 
 Wouldn't it hurt you inside ? 
 
 18
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 20. JANE WOOLERTON 
 
 Life's a queer thing! 
 
 Look at me, 
 
 Only yesterday a thin strip of a girl 
 
 Tripping as light as a linnet. 
 
 And now can't count my toes nohow. 
 
 When I married Henry out of spite 
 
 I made a great mistake; 
 
 I should have waited for Emmanuel Broomfield, 
 
 Who would have matched me better than Henry: 
 
 I'm afraid sometimes of overlaying Henry, the poor 
 
 little squinney. 
 
 Emmanuel always thought my Robin was his; 
 I swore him down he was wrong, 
 And we'll leave it at that: 
 What's it matter anyway ? 
 What's Malachi Smithson staring up at ? 
 Must be an aeroplane; 
 
 He'd be better at work for his brother Piggy, 
 Who would be well advised to keep an eye on his 
 
 daughter. 
 I saw her by the Cemetery last night with that 
 
 Salvation Captain, 
 
 Who had hold of her in a very wrong way, 
 And if Molly hadn't been with me I'd have stopped 
 
 him. 
 
 There's Mrs Barley making for Winterbourne's. 
 I have grave doubts about Oliver; 
 Mrs Ruston saw him standing by the door of the 
 
 Ship on Monday night: 
 He'll backslide one of these days and we shall never 
 
 get our bill paid. 
 Henry's as weak as water. 
 
 No! She's going into the Bank to cash a cheque: 
 I must catch her as she comes out. 
 
 19
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 21. PIGGY SMITHSON 
 
 There's nothing like pigs! 
 
 I begun from an old sow 
 
 (I don't mean she was my mother; 
 
 That wouldn't be in the way of nature); 
 
 She served me well; 
 
 Litter after litter, a grand old girl, 
 
 And I've never looked back since. 
 
 Pig by pig, acre by acre, I've crept on. 
 
 Marrying the master's widow was a great step, 
 
 She meant almost as much to me as the old sow. 
 
 The Tax Collector's been nosing round; 
 
 I proved to him that I lost a pig every day in the 
 
 year 
 
 Which surprised him : 
 Farmers don't reckon to pay Income-Tax. 
 This morning I walked miles across the stubble; 
 It was alive with pigs! 
 And what if one dies every day ? 
 There's three born by night. 
 
 Folks in towns think one pig's exactly like another; 
 As if you could mistake 'em ! 
 I know their grunts and how they knot their tails. 
 It's townsfolk look like one another; 
 They have to carry their names on bits of cardboard 
 Not to forget who they are; 
 But two herds of pigs 
 
 Will thread through one another quite easy. 
 For each of my sixty-four years 
 I have a thousand pounds: 
 All from one old sow 1 
 My little Jenny will have the lot, 
 And I'm marrying her into the best family in Fletton: 
 Wouldn't the old Dad stare if he could see me 
 
 now. 
 
 20
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 22. THE VISCOUNT 
 
 Every one goes round on tiptoe 
 
 Looking at me as if I were stuffed, 
 
 Because I'm heir to all this flummery of tenants, game- 
 keepers, butlers, footmen, family-tree, old lineage, 
 noblesse-oblige, and bend-sinister: 
 
 What everybody in England long for, fight over, 
 plot about; 
 
 Offer their immortal souls and much more precious 
 youth and health for: 
 
 The ownership of a great estate. 
 
 A real kingdom 
 
 With even the proverbial rebel in the shape of Mogg, 
 
 And all the historic business of the Feudal System 
 
 Handed straight on from Charles the First 
 
 Without the slightest deviation. 
 
 I have less use for it 
 
 Than any one who breathes; 
 
 I'm for California myself, 
 
 Where a little nest-egg 
 
 Of sixteen thousand pounds from great-aunt Wincey 
 
 Has been secretly transferred. 
 
 The bullet through my ankle ended all fighting, 
 
 And this Foreign Office billet at Washington is most 
 handy. 
 
 I shall stick it out until the war's over, 
 
 Then vanish quietly from the scene, 
 
 And leave this lot to Fitz: 
 
 'Twill suit him like a glove, 
 
 And I shall be free ! 
 
 To-morrow I'm for London, 
 
 Where in a Registry Office 
 
 Gwinny Mogg will marry me quietly, 
 
 And we shall get ten days' honeymoon 
 
 The darling! 
 
 21
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 (I wish we were in that aeroplane !) 
 
 She follows me across as soon as possible. 
 
 23. MOSES SKINNER AND JULIUS MORGAN 
 
 Young Aaron Tharp lived there! 
 
 Not quite sharp ? 
 
 Not quite, I fear! 
 
 He'd a nice little place as his father made ; 
 
 Now he's gone to pot I be much afraid. 
 
 Old Aaron Tharp was true and sound, 
 
 Respected by the country round; 
 
 To think as his name should be forgotten ! 
 
 If he'd known what a fool he had begotten ! 
 
 He toiled and moiled into his grave 
 
 To leave a lad what couldn't save: 
 
 No note of grace, no sense of cash, 
 
 He lost his all by being rash! 
 
 And for what ? 
 
 For what ? 
 
 To play the fiddle! 
 
 1 Hey diddle diddle.' 
 
 To make up tunes in his empty head 
 
 And ruin his eyes with the books he read! 
 
 He raumed and babbled all day long 
 
 About the way to sing a song; 
 
 Followed the lads at plough about: 
 
 To hear them sing would make him shout; 
 
 He'd sit in the bar at the Ship all night, 
 
 To catch the tunes was his delight 
 
 Or to play the fiddle about the town; 
 
 And all the while his trade went down. 
 
 He was encouraged by our Parson : 
 'Twas wrong of Parson ! 
 It's very well for him to talk, 
 
 22
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 To sing and play, and idle walk, 
 But ain't he paid for doing that ? 
 He minds his bread is buttered fat! 
 Parsons is sensible, you see, 
 Almost as cute as lawyers be: 
 Not quite, a-course, coz no one could 
 But very nigh just as they should : 
 Parsons is sound at heart, I say, 
 They never quarrel with their pay. 
 
 And so young Aaron fooled about 
 And none but Parson had a doubt 
 What he was bound for poor young lad. 
 A-course I'll own though he was mad 
 Them tunes he played, them songs he sung, 
 They 'minded you of being young. 
 They took me back, a boy again, 
 At work with father down the fen, 
 When all the birds they used to sing 
 At sunrise till the air did ring, 
 And sheep and cows would stir about, 
 With everything to make you shout. 
 Yes! It was strange what he could do; 
 His fiddle seemed to mazzle you ; 
 The labourers would catch a song 
 And they was catchy all along: 
 They sing them yet, and Georgy Bell 
 He played them by the village well. 
 
 But all the same trade didn't mend, 
 Until at last there came the end. 
 
 They sold him up, lock, stock, and stone, 
 And off he went away, alone 
 Because he sung but couldn't save; 
 I think his father in his grave 
 Must sure a-stirred, however deep: 
 That smash would waken any sleep! 
 23
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Young Aaron went 
 
 I dunno where 
 
 They say he's gone to Manchester; 
 
 And there, mayhap, mid soot and smoke, 
 
 Makes music for the city folk; 
 
 Plays on his fiddle anywhere 
 
 Them tunes he learned at Fletton Fair 
 
 From shepherds or from wagon-boys, 
 
 Or men at plough or any noise; 
 
 He made his tunes out of the air 
 
 From birds or beasts he didn't care; 
 
 Yet Parson says he'll make a name; 
 
 (Our Parson what's a deal to blame!) 
 
 As if he could by fiddle-fad 
 
 Get half the name his father had. 
 
 Lost in some smoky town he plays 
 And thinks, I lay, on sunny days 
 Of all the things that make life dear, 
 Like beans and bacon, cheese and beer; 
 A dreamy, good-for-nothing lad, 
 Sure bound to lose all what he had. 
 He might have risen and come to be 
 As high as any you can see, 
 And been well known the country round 
 As comfortable, warm, and sound. 
 His name is known for many a mile; 
 It raises far and wide a smile ; 
 While folk they whisper not right sharp ! 
 A fool! A fool! was Aaron Tharp. 
 
 24. REUBEN HOLMES 
 
 It's a good thing to work for an Earl like ours; 
 
 I might have been laying alongside Elisha Pratt and 
 
 Walker Harrod, 
 
 Or had a bullet in my belly like Levi Swinton, 
 
 24
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Who had no call to go the bloody fool! 
 
 What's the good of Moller talking rubbish ? 
 
 He might as well be working here with me. 
 
 What better job could you want than gardening at the 
 
 Towers ? 
 The four of us 
 
 Ben and Joe Wilders, brother Arthur, and me 
 Are not too hard pressed; 
 Neither, if it comes to that, is any of the staff, 
 From Boneses lass to that stuck-up witch's daughter, 
 To say nothing of Milly Jackson and Ada King. 
 Dolph Swift and Jerry King get a damned sight more 
 
 out of all this than any of the family, 
 Excepting mebbe Lord Fitz. 
 
 There's more consumed in the kitchens than upstairs, 
 And still more taken quietly into cottages that I could 
 
 mention. 
 
 Moller says this House should be a village hall : 
 I can see Peg Leg and Silly Sam in the library, 
 Or Min Harker in the Countess's bed. 
 Fletton does want a Reading Room : 
 Four have been started in my time, but they always 
 
 peter out. 
 Esau Burrows reckons if Fletton was in America we'd 
 
 have two if not three Movie Halls, 
 But I don't hold with those Yanks, 
 They want to upset everything. 
 
 As I tell Will Pratt, if this park was cut into allot- 
 ments I should be slaving like Job Creasey and 
 
 no better off than I am now. 
 
 25. MOLL OVERTON 
 
 Bill needn't fancy he's going to do as he likes because 
 I've left him to come home to mother, 
 
 On account of his carryings-on with Herbert Dobney's 
 wife, 
 
 25
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 What held her nose so high, when all the while she 
 
 was meeting Bill after prayer-meeting in Stower's 
 
 garden. 
 
 What will Bill's brother John say when he hears of it ? 
 I found it out through a brooch rattling on to the 
 
 floor when he undressed: 
 
 It had her initials on so he couldn't get out of it; 
 But he's not going to have a housekeeper: 
 I know them housekeepers, 
 They'd slip out of bed and go through his pockets 
 
 while he was snoring; 
 I'd go back sooner. 
 
 26. GRANDFATHER WADDY 
 
 I'm very old and don't care how soon I die; 
 
 Not that I want to go before my time 
 
 Nobody doesn't what's in his right mind 
 
 But I've a sort of satisfied feeling on account of my 
 
 grandson Oliver turning up on leave. 
 They've called me ' Chartist,' ' Fenian,' ' Infidel,' and 
 
 ' Hordle Hound ' by turn, 
 But, being the only man in Fletton as couldn't be 
 
 kicked out 
 By reason of a common-right that goes with this 
 
 cottage 
 
 The only one not stolen from the village 
 I've been able to stick to my guns against the whole crew, 
 Nobility, Church, and Chapel. 
 When I was a lad, I used to sit by the fire listening to 
 
 father and uncle William talking about Waterloo : 
 They was scared of Boney, like everybody else, 
 But if he'd only been English-born he'd a led the poor 
 
 against the rich 
 
 And things would have been different. 
 Father wouldn't have been left to starve with one leg, 
 
 as he was 
 
 26
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 (Only Uncle William stood by him); 
 
 Father'd say sometimes 'twas a pity Boney didn't win, 
 
 Because they would never have enclosed the Commons ; 
 
 But that's going too far! 
 
 Although when I've been in jail for trying to get the 
 
 labourers to band against starvation wages, I've 
 
 felt pretty desperate: 
 Yet I've hoped against hope. 
 And now my grandson has brought tales of a country 
 
 where things is different : 
 How it warms my old heart to hear him; 
 He looks everybody in the face, and nobody threatens 
 
 to send him to jail, 
 Neither magistrate, keeper, policeman, parson, nor yet 
 
 the Earl. 
 That night he knocked Jackson Challands through 
 
 the Ship window, when he tried his rough tricks, 
 
 I got dead drunk with joy; 
 Nobody never stood up to Challands before: 
 Now he daren't show himself at the Golden Cross till 
 
 his face gets straight again. 
 Oliver tells me religion has never struck root in 
 
 Australia ; 
 
 He says they call it Soothing Syrup for Slaves, 
 Which is one in the eye for Nathan Dodds 
 And another for my wicked nephew Samuel, 
 Who sold himself to the Devil to get started farming 
 And prospers for a time like a green bay tree; 
 Uncle William would turn in his grave if he knew. 
 That Bowles girl will pay him out. 
 
 27. ADOLPHUS SWIFT 
 
 If you'd read it in the papers you wouldn't believe it; 
 But it's true enough, and I'm here as proof, 
 In the one place on earth where I daren't open my lips 
 
 27
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 My father's house. 
 
 All this is mine if I had my rights; 
 
 This wide estate, these titles, honours, dignities, 
 
 This wealth uncountable 
 
 Should come to me, who am the eldest son, the 
 
 proper heir 
 
 Robbed of my birthright by a sordid trick. 
 When father found how things stood he got mother 
 
 to leave the country, 
 
 Being terrified at his father's (the late Earl's) strictness; 
 Giving her a paltry two thousand through a slimy 
 
 scoundrel who called himself Swift. 
 Mother had to sign a deed acknowledging this man as 
 
 my father, 
 
 Doing me in the eye for ever. 
 Not that she could help it, 
 
 Her every thought has been for me, I owe her all, 
 And I am about to repay her as will appear shortly. 
 Little did she guess when she reared me to hate the 
 
 name of Coote 
 That I should find myself established at Fletton 
 
 Towers 
 
 As confidential servant to the young Viscount; 
 She would have feared I might use violence, 
 Knowing my high and haughty spirit, 
 But I have bent my sagacity, and after three years' 
 
 attention in France and England, 
 Have obtained my supplanter's confidence. 
 He trusts me for everything, 
 And when in consequence of some crime I cannot yet 
 
 unravel 
 
 He was driven to choose flight to escape prison, 
 He got me to effect the secret transfer of a large sum 
 
 of money to America, 
 Whither he is stealing, shortly, with me, 
 To be followed presently by a wretched girl 
 
 The usual farmer's daughter 
 
 28
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Who, thank God, will hang round his neck like a 
 
 millstone. 
 
 You have only to look at his vicious face 
 To guess the sort of deed before which he flies the 
 
 country. 
 
 I have transferred the money quite safely to America, 
 Lodging it in the keeping of a lady who has more 
 
 right to it than any one, 
 And who waits my arrival in San Francisco with 
 
 joyful impatience: 
 My Mother. 
 
 28. JOE BAR'KS 
 
 There's something wrong about this war; 
 
 They're taking everybody except them that ought to 
 
 go first. 
 
 Who'd make better soldiers than keepers ? 
 And yet they swarm as thick as ever, getting honest 
 
 men into trouble. 
 Just because I took a short cut home, was that a 
 
 reason for Walter Jackson to nearly scare me to 
 
 death by jumping out behind a tree ? 
 Even if I had wandered into the wood, what of it ? 
 You don't always notice where you're going when 
 
 you're thinking, 
 
 And he had no right to call me a common poacher; 
 I can't stop my dog following me for exercise, 
 And with all these German spies about it's only 
 
 patriotic to carry a gun. 
 I told him straight if he didn't take his hand away the 
 
 other barrel would go off: 
 Why did he make such a fuss ? 
 Everybody knows what a cazzlety thing a gun is 
 
 when your finger's on the trigger, 
 And if you stumble over a tree-root in the dusk it ain't 
 
 your fault. 
 
 29
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 If it hadn't unfortunately happened that, unbeknown 
 to me, a pheasant's head was hanging from my 
 pocket, I should have got the best of it; 
 
 Now I'm being hindered from buying pigs for the 
 Army over the paltry business. 
 
 I told Peter Harrod so, when he brought the summons, 
 but he only grinned; 
 
 No wonder the Germans are winning. 
 
 29. MILDRED PINION 
 
 It's been a great satisfaction to rearrange this house- 
 hold in accordance with the best social ideas. 
 
 We are the only one of the Tenantry to dine late 
 
 (The Edgerleys are really outsiders), 
 
 And our claim for acknowledgment can hardly be 
 delayed. 
 
 Next time the Agent calls in the evening he'll find us 
 in evening dress, 
 
 Which will open his eyes, 
 
 And he can't fail to mention it at the Towers. 
 
 The only thing I fear is mother, 
 
 Who irritates Laurie and doesn't exactly shine in 
 society. 
 
 Yesterday I caught her gossiping with George 
 Barks, 
 
 Who is ready enough to be familiar at any time. 
 
 If people heard of father's business it would be the 
 death of my ambition : 
 
 Although any of these bankrupt farmers would have 
 jumped at my money. 
 
 Laurie was on his last legs when the war broke out and 
 I just saved him. 
 
 Let his aunt look down her long nose as she may; 
 
 She'd have been glad to palm her precious Nevil on 
 to me. 
 
 30
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Every night I pray that mother will marry again (so 
 
 long as it isn't in Fletton). 
 I wish Laurie would get rid of Barks : 
 All the time he's touching his cap I know he's laughing 
 
 at me, 
 And I'm afraid he's trying to get hold of the new 
 
 housemaid ; 
 
 I'll put a stop to that, anyhow: 
 She's a quiet, respectful girl who reads her Bible 
 
 regularly. 
 
 30. JERRY KING 
 
 Mother got me. a soft job with Mr Coote; 
 
 I do see what goes on, and that's a fact. 
 
 'Twould make a cat laugh the way the gentry think 
 
 nobody knows what they're doing; 
 I believe they look on us like bullocks in a meadow, 
 Thinking we see but never notice. 
 I see a lot more than I tell, 
 The opposite of Joe Cutts who tells a lot more'n he 
 
 sees 
 
 He's agent for the Chronicle 
 And as stuck up as Julius Morgan 
 Who strangers take to be the earl when they see him 
 
 in his fur coat and white top hat. 
 When Arthur Mogg tried to draw me about Lady 
 
 Betty 
 I didn't let on, though he gave me three drinks and a 
 
 cigar. 
 Nehemiah Stennett hinted yesterday, but I looked 
 
 innocent, 
 
 And he'll never dare say anything in Fletton. 
 I know all about her meeting Waddy in our grounds ; 
 She nips into the old summer-house like a weasel after 
 
 a rabbit, 
 But W T addy's a match for her. 
 
 31 D
 
 If I told what I've seen, there isn't a soul would 
 
 believe me. 
 
 I wish I could take his place some dark evening; 
 If I was more his size I would try : 
 All cats are gray at night; 
 Anyway, I dream I've done it, which is the next best 
 
 thing. 
 
 It's set me against the maids here, more's the pity, 
 Because I had plenty of time to attend to them ; 
 But when you've seen something better you can't do 
 
 with common. 
 
 I wish Miss Williamson wasn't so stand-offish 
 If she's at the Feast to-night I'll ask her to go on the 
 
 Roundabouts ; 
 
 That would put Meg Ambrose's nose out of joint. 
 I must go now and shave Mr Coote, 
 Who moons all day with his nose in the air, 
 And sometimes writes for hours on end a lot of 
 
 nonsense that nobody can make head nor tail of: 
 I've heard the Earl laughing about it more than once. 
 Sometimes Mr Coote gives me half a crown and talks 
 
 about the villagers, 
 Asking me lots of questions and wanting to know what 
 
 they're up to: 
 As if I should tell ! 
 
 31. GUSTAVUS BENNINGTON 
 
 For five years I have laboured in the Cause, 
 Working patiently to reduce the permanent Tory 
 
 majority, 
 With the aid of Fletcher, Woolerton, and other 
 
 stalwarts ; 
 But the appearance of Cutts as Labour Candidate has 
 
 dashed all my hope of so lowering the enemy's 
 
 poll that Headquarters should transfer me to a 
 
 more promising place. 
 32
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 This defection of the agricultural workers is definitive 
 and fatal; 
 
 Their ingratitude appals mel 
 
 I have contributed handsomely through various 
 channels to their Union, 
 
 And to all the Chapels for miles around, 
 
 And attended some fourteen hundred sales of work, 
 missionary meetings, social guilds, bazaars, har- 
 vest thanksgivings, anniversary meetings, Sunday- 
 school feasts, prayer meetings, choral services, 
 and addresses to the young (of both sexes), 
 
 So that this stab in the back has shocked me terribly 
 and must cause me to reconsider my position. 
 
 Whilst it was a question of raising wages or breaking 
 up the Great Estates and lowering the crest of the 
 bloated farmers, 
 
 According to our Great Leader's Land Campaign, 
 
 By gradual purchase for the State at pre-war 
 prices, 
 
 All was for the best; 
 
 But these poisonous attacks upon land and property 
 
 Threaten our very constitution, 
 
 And it seems possible that the parties of Law and Order 
 may be forced to combine permanently in defence 
 of their rights. 
 
 After thirty-eight years' untiring industry in Birming- 
 ham I amassed a competence 
 
 Which enabled me to devote myself to my country's 
 interests, 
 
 And I could not view with equanimity the propagation 
 of such insidious doctrines. 
 
 These benighted rural spots, 
 I sadly fear, 
 
 Are not favourable to Progressive Liberalism; 
 There is no interest in Vegetarianism, Anti- Vaccina- 
 tion, Homoeopathy, Anti-Vivisection, Anti- 
 Papacy, Anti-Militarism, or Internationalism; 
 
 33
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Anti-Feminism is rampant, but from brutal and 
 
 reactionary motives only 
 
 Whilst Prohibition provokes a torrent of blasphemy. 
 That brute Cutts, a blustering fellow of doubtful 
 
 morals, 
 Is immensely popular with the ignorant peasantry of 
 
 Hordle and Fletton, 
 
 And ridicules not only my efforts but my person: 
 I will cast the dust of this ungrateful constituency from 
 
 my feet for ever. 
 
 32. JAMES HANBURY 
 
 These amalgamations are the devil! 
 
 Once we knew exactly where we were, 
 
 But now Skinner calls every Saturday to put a new 
 
 plate up, 
 And our last title is so complicated that I can't possibly 
 
 remember it: 
 
 All that's no good for a Bank. 
 The last straw was this morning when a stranger with 
 
 white spats and a beaky nose stepped out of a 
 
 motor and said he was the new District Manager. 
 All my book-keeping is to be changed, 
 With reports to make you dizzy, 
 Whilst I can't lend anybody more than five pounds 
 
 without his sanction. 
 I've lent thousands on my own authority in twenty-one 
 
 years, 
 And nowhere has the old County Bank lost less than 
 
 in Fletton; 
 
 Because I know my business. 
 I said as much, and got a rap on the knuckles: 
 ' I can retire on a pension if I prefer,' 
 And they'll put some schoolboy in my place 
 A nice mess he'll make! 
 
 34
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 When I say I know my business, I mean it; 
 
 I know to a sovereign what any farmer's safe for, 
 
 And no breast is barred before me. 
 
 I've had to tighten the rein on Morton Enderby; 
 
 Only yesterday Frederick Dobney went on his knees 
 
 on this very mat, 
 With tears rolling from his white beard on to his white 
 
 waistcoat, 
 Little thinking I knew about the second mortgage on 
 
 his property. 
 
 I know which of the Danes is going downhill, 
 Thompson Rowett daren't plead poverty to me, as he 
 
 does to his widows and orphans. 
 I know which three men in Fletton are worth 
 
 fifty thousand each. 
 
 The war's brought great prosperity to Fletton; 
 More money's being made here than anybody dreams; 
 And as no farmer pays income-tax to speak of, 
 And as they don't spend any faster, however rich they 
 
 get, 
 
 It grows and grows and grows. 
 When the Viscount's confidential man walked in with 
 
 a power of attorney 
 And transferred the Dowager Wincey's legacy to a 
 
 New York bank in his own name, I said nothing; 
 It wasn't my business, 
 
 But Swift would be surprised if he knew who I am. 
 It's twenty-seven years to-day since the Earl gave me 
 
 ;ioo to find some one to arrange that settlement 
 
 and hold my tongue, 
 And when last year a draft came for Master Adolphus 
 
 from San Francisco 
 
 I recognised Martha King's handwriting immediately. 
 I can put two and two together as well as anybody, 
 And though I have no warrant to interfere, 
 Over in America an eye has opened that will not close 
 
 again in a hurry. 
 
 35
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 33. THOMPSON ROWETT 
 
 Old Aaron Tharp thought himself clever and snatched 
 
 the girl I meant to marry. 
 He always got more votes than me for the Parish 
 
 Council 
 
 By reason of his glib tongue and oily ways, 
 And built up a huge business in hay dealing; 
 But I kept quietly on, and Providence foreclosed on 
 
 him. 
 
 I've just landed Deadman's Ground on to that Lon- 
 doner, Longthorne, 
 
 After weeks and weeks of talking him round ; 
 It's been in hand for over a year on account of its cold 
 
 wet clay, 
 And he'll get all the experience of farming he wants 
 
 before he's much older. 
 
 When he breaks I shall come in again, no doubt. 
 The world's full of fools! 
 Young Tharp fancied himself (like his father), 
 Especially when Parson took notice of his fiddling: 
 He never will be able to play the fiddle; 
 I offered to teach him myself, but he told Meg 
 
 Ambrose that I knew nothing of music. 
 Fortunately I was able to control myself, 
 Because everything comes to him that waits, 
 And when, as might be expected, he came a cropper, 
 I was able to give my son-in-law the first tip, 
 And he secured the house and business very reason- 
 ably. 
 
 Only adversity can teach the spendthrift, 
 And if Tharp fiddles for coppers in the streets he'll 
 
 learn to value the advice of wiser men. 
 That young Hemsley's another such, 
 But his mother a grand woman has the whip-hand 
 over him. 
 
 36
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Who'd a thought to see my daughter in the fine house 
 
 that Aaron Tharp built ? 
 I often call in for a cup of tea just to stretch my legs 
 
 beside the marble mantelpiece and think about 
 
 it. 
 
 Sarah's very fond of me, as well she may be : 
 I should have done the like for that wretched Annie 
 If she hadn't run away. 
 
 34. RUFUS OLDFIELD 
 
 A pig-dealer is Joe Barks, but he deals as well in 
 dead horses and old iron, and he's a market-gardener, 
 and is always ready to do anybody out of their last 
 ha'penny. But mainly he's a pig-jobber. He believes 
 in pigs! Pigs is pigs to Joe; he spends his days 
 among them, and I really believe he'd like to sleep 
 in a sty. Knows one from another by its grunt! 
 Yet me, what's been a farmer, man and boy, all my 
 life, couldn't do that. He loves to talk about pork 
 and hams, and cross-breeding and such. Oh, he's 
 fly! Popped into my yard he did, one morning just 
 after the war broke out when I was leaning on the 
 gate, thinking about breakfast, and up he slives as 
 innocent as milk. 
 
 * Morning, Mr Oldfield,' says he.1 
 
 ' Morning, Joe,' says I. 
 
 ' And how's things this morning ? ' 
 
 ' Nothing particular, excepting wheat's up.' 
 
 1 That's the war! ' 
 
 ' I dare say, Joe,' says I. ' War's always good for 
 farmers, my father used to say, and who knows but 
 what everything'll go up likewise. Maybe pigs'll rise.' 
 
 ' Ha! ' says Joe, all short and nasty. 
 
 ' But if wheat rises, why not pigs ? ' I says. 
 
 1 I'll tell you why, Mr Oldfield. Have you heard 
 
 37
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 how the Germans rushed like a lot of bullocks across 
 Belgium one night, tramping everything under foot ? 
 They set fire to the stacks and houses, chucked the 
 folks into the flames, collared the horses and pigs ' 
 
 He stopped and looked at me sideways. 
 
 ' What of it, Joe, what of it ? We're not in foreign 
 parts, thank goodness. Ain't we got a Navy ? ' 
 says I. 
 
 ' You're not a special constable, farmer ; but I am, 
 and here's my regulations. When the Germans land, 
 we've got to set fire to our stacks, smash our wagons 
 and carts up, and set off full gallop across Hordle 
 Waste with our live stock.' 
 
 ' The devil we have! When be they coming ? ' 
 
 ' Tuesday night, I'm told\ but maybe that's a lie. 
 Anyway, here's the regulations all in print with the 
 Royal Arms on top, so you'll be ready now I've 
 warned you, as 'tis my duty. At the word you set 
 off full pelt.' 
 
 ' Don't talk like a fool, Joe, when you know very 
 well as fat pigs can't gallop, not if the old Kaiser 
 himself was after them,' says I. 
 
 * Then you'll have to kill and bury them before- 
 hand, because fall into the Germans' hands they must 
 not' 
 
 4 But good God! I've got fourteen beautiful pigs 
 all very nigh fat, as I was bid eighty-three shillings 
 apiece for last Monday, and I can't afford to lose 
 them.' 
 
 ' Then what a pity you didn't take it,' says Joe, in 
 a nasty voice what sent shivers all down my back. 
 ' I sold mine this morning before the news got out, 
 and they're off this very afternoon. I shall have the 
 money in five-pound notes sewn in my shirt, so as 
 to be ready to bolt, day or night.' 
 
 ' That's an idea! Ill sell mine to-morrow and do 
 the same.' 
 
 38
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 * You won't,' says he. 
 ' Why not ? ' says I. 
 
 ' Because these bills that'll be out this afternoon 
 will make it so as nobody won't take pigs for presents. 
 Well, I'll be off. Good-day to you, farmer.' 
 
 ' Here, I say, Joe, couldn't you send mine away 
 with your lot ? ' 
 
 ' I don't see how I could, or I would with pleasure.' 
 
 ' Tchah ! You could easy. Only fourteen of them, 
 and all beautiful pigs. Look now, I'll take the same 
 as I was bid, which is eighty-three shillings apiece. 
 Here ! Stop ! Drat the fellow ! What'll you give ? ' 
 
 ' We couldn't bargain, and I don't want to offend 
 you. These Germans have knocked the bottom out of 
 the pig trade altogether.' 
 
 ' What strange rascals they must be. But you 
 wouldn't offend me, Joe.' 
 
 * Think of those Germans, farmer. They'll be as 
 savage as bulls if there's no pork when they come; 
 for they live on sausage.' 
 
 ' But would they pay me ? ' 
 
 ' I dare say they'll count it in your favour, and put 
 you out of your misery before they chuck you on the 
 burning stacks.' 
 
 ' What's your figure ? ' 
 
 ' I'd rather not.' 
 
 ' Come on.' 
 
 ' Fifty-two apiece.' 
 
 ' There ain't such a price,' says I. 
 
 ' Then good-day to you.' 
 
 * I couldn't lose on them.' 
 ' Then keep them.' 
 
 * No, no! I'll take sixty . . . curse you! ' says I. 
 ' Done! ' says Joe, and ' done ' I was right in the 
 
 eye because he made five pounds apiece of them 
 that very afternoon, and the Germans never came at 
 all. 
 
 39
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 35. MAURICE FITZHERBERT COOTE 
 
 The work to which I have dedicated my life is almost 
 
 finished, 
 And will be launched presently upon an unapprecia- 
 
 tive world. 
 
 Like Nietzsche, I write (more or less) posthumously, 
 For few there be who could follow my exposition, 
 My winding search, graphic analysis, and complete 
 
 survey 
 
 Of that great master of the pen 
 Honore" de Balzac. 
 Thanks to Geoffrey's hospitality 
 I have been able to spend seventeen short years upon 
 
 my masterpiece, 
 Undisturbed by sordid cares. 
 I shall dedicate it to him in acknowledgment, 
 Although he has never read one line of the Comedie. 
 My life has been well spent in following those laby- 
 rinthine windings, 
 
 Holding the scent from scene to scene, 
 Illustrated by coloured diagrams and genealogical 
 
 trees, 
 And tracing connections which the Master himself 
 
 overlooked. 
 
 It is better to dream Romance than seek it in the flesh. 
 Fancy seeking adventures here! 
 For Fletton is an epitome of England, 
 Dull, sodden, flat, insipid; 
 The peasantry are vicious, dreary, and lustful by 
 
 turns ; 
 
 Our tradespeople and farmers are worse 
 I needn't describe them 
 Whilst our neighbours are dullest of all. 
 The Master would have failed in Fletton for want of 
 
 material ; 
 
 4 o
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Even the war could not rescue it from the slough, 
 And its memory will perish 
 
 Unless, mayhap, posterity notes that ' here Fitzherbert 
 Coote evolved his masterpiece.' 
 
 36. TIMOTHY WILLIAMSON 
 
 The secret of success is fair dealing 
 
 Nothing else is wanted 
 
 For once your neighbours find you're ready to stick to 
 
 your word they flock to trade. 
 I've never broken a promise, nor run back on a 
 
 bargain, 
 
 And I've always paid to the day; 
 My potato and straw business has risen steadily in 
 
 consequence, 
 
 Until the neighbours won't leave me for anybody. 
 It's no good Jack Key bidding a higher price; 
 He only catches fools and new-comers; 
 Everybody else knows he'll throw up if the market 
 
 goes against him, 
 Or leave potatoes until they're half-rotten in the graves 
 
 before he moves them. 
 When the Potato Boom fell through, and everybody 
 
 broke their bargains, 
 And ' Eldorado ' and ' Northern Stars ' dropped from 
 
 their weight in gold to be only fit for pig-food, 
 I kept to my purchases although it nearly sunk 
 
 me; 
 
 To-day I am better off than ever. 
 It's true that scoundrels flourish for a time 
 There's Thompson Rowett and his son-in-law 
 
 Stower 
 
 That precious pair of hypocrites ; 
 They rob and lie and cheat and prosper, 
 And everybody calls them respectable. 
 
 4*
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 I used to think lightning would strike Rowett to the 
 
 earth 
 
 When he got up in the Wesleyan pulpit on Sundays, 
 But it never did; 
 And now he's well thought of and his family spreading 
 
 over all Fletton. 
 Look at my wicked sister, the Witch, with her horrible 
 
 daughters ; 
 
 One living in open immorality with Tom Bavin, 
 The other in service at the Towers : 
 Everybody knows what goes on there. 
 It's enough to make me want to change my name. 
 
 37. MRS WALKER HARROD 
 
 We waited three years because we couldn't get a 
 
 cottage 
 (There's always more husbands than houses in 
 
 Fletton) 
 
 And then he was called up on our wedding day. 
 What made it hardest was being killed the very 
 
 minute he got out: 
 It was just murder! 
 
 Grandad Jenkins keeps saying that everything passes, 
 But he's a hundred and doesn't care: 
 I want my man back. 
 Sally Makins tells everybody I'm lucky to have a 
 
 pension and no child: 
 
 I hope her man will knock her other eye out. 
 Why should they have took him and left the farmers' 
 
 sons 
 The two young Todds, Mr Pinion, Mr Edgerley, and 
 
 Nevil Dane, 
 To say nothing of their gamekeepers, gardeners, and 
 
 motor-drivers. 
 
 Walker went because Mr Mogg couldn't get him off 
 
 42
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Through not having a pull. 
 
 Fletton's full of strong young fellows who ought to be 
 
 fighting, 
 
 But they stay at home and get rich, 
 While everybody looks up to them: 
 The world isn't fair! 
 
 38. JOE CUTTS 
 
 [Current contributions for the Ely Chronicle and 
 Weekly Advertiser.] 
 
 On Thursday next an Anniversary will be held at 
 the Baptist Chapel at 2.30 p.m., when a sermon will 
 be preached by the Rev. Erasmus Tyrell of Bly. 
 Tea will be provided at 4.45 p.m. in the Sunday- 
 school Room by prominent ladies of the congregation. 
 
 I, HERBERT DOBNEY, give notice that I will not be 
 responsible for debts incurred by my wife, Ellen 
 Dobney. 
 
 Hens trespassing on the Grange Farm will be shot 
 in future. (DAVIS MOGG). 
 
 An address will be given at the Wesleyan Chapel on 
 Saturday afternoon next by Eli Gunn, Esq., of Hordle, 
 on ' Prohibition and its Blessings/ The chair will 
 be taken at 2.15 by Thompson Rowett, Esq. There 
 will be a silver collection in aid of the Young People's 
 Temperance Guild Annual Outing. 
 
 Anybody scandalising me will be prosecuted with 
 the utmost rigour of the law. (LAURA COOK). 
 
 Mr Gustavus Bennington of Platt's Hole wishes to 
 announce that, owing to a sudden indisposition, all 
 engagements are cancelled until further notice. 
 
 43
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 At Bly on the 6th inst., James Edward Bones, 
 farmer, was fined 2s. 6d. and 45. costs for cruelty to 
 three ewes at Fletton. 
 
 The amount realised by the Bazaar held in the 
 Vicarage Garden on the 3rd inst., in aid of the Church 
 Organ Renovation Fund, which was opened in the 
 morning by Lady Betty Kyme, and in the afternoon 
 by Mrs A. Hurcomb-Knatt, of Christchurch, New 
 Zealand, was ^74 ys. 8^d. A magnificent result. 
 
 A fox was found shot dead last Sunday morning by 
 Mr Jabez Wells in his stackyard. The perpetrator of 
 this dastardly deed has not yet been discovered. 
 
 Mrs Trotter Goose has received notice from the 
 War Office that her son Saul was wounded on the 
 1 4th ult. in France. It is understood that the injury 
 was not serious and the sympathy of the Parish is 
 with Mrs Goose for a speedy recovery. 
 
 The Village Feast has somewhat recovered from 
 the first shock of war, but owing to the fuel shortage 
 and lighting and other restrictions the scene at night 
 lacks much of its old brilliancy. Mr Julius Morgan, 
 when interviewed, said he was carrying on under 
 terrible difficulties, but should do his best to keep 
 the countryside cheerful. 
 
 We notice that our esteemed neighbour, Mr Jackson 
 Challands, has purchased a new motor-car. 
 
 It is rumoured that the Bly Co-operative Society is 
 about to open branches in Fletton and Hordle. 
 
 The energetic local secretary of the Agricultural 
 Workers' Union, Mr M. Holmes, informs us that 
 eleven new members were enrolled last week. 
 
 44
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 There is a revival of the old rumour that after all 
 the telephone may be coming. Several prominent 
 merchants and agriculturists in Fletton are interested 
 in the campaign, and the Postmaster of Ely is giving 
 the application earnest consideration. 
 
 Our brilliant delegate to the * Mother of Parlia- 
 ments,' Arbuthnot Wardle, Esq., M.P. (at present 
 visiting the Towers), has contributed a speech before 
 the Knights of the British Empire upon the Diseases 
 of Pheasants. It was described by an eyewitness as 
 ' flashing with knowledge and instinct with wit.' 
 
 Fletton is honoured by a visit from one of its 
 eminent children, the well-known astronomical expert, 
 Mr Emmanuel Creasey, who is spending Feast Week 
 with our esteemed neighbour, his mother. Fletton's 
 scientist has been appointed to a high post in the 
 Mother Land after a long sojourn in distant climes, 
 particulars of which we hope to give in our next issue. 
 
 At the last three sittings of the Military Court at 
 Ely, Fletton's applicants have all received exemption. 
 As the Recruiting Officer (Capt. Wilfred Coote, M.C.) 
 well said: ' Fletton has done its duty.' 
 
 In spite of the war Messrs Mullens Ltd. of Bly 
 and Friston, the great potato merchants, have com- 
 pleted the third stretch of the light railway connecting 
 their various farms with their Depot at Washover 
 Ferry. It is also understood that they are installing 
 motors in their barges on the Brent. Such enterprise 
 deserves prosperity. 
 
 The following shows Fletton's war record to date: 
 Killed. Walker Harrod, Elisha Pratt, Jacob 
 Creasey, Jnr. 
 
 45
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Permanently Invalided. Viscount Colville, Joe 
 Makins, Moller Holmes, Butler Atkin, Jnr. 
 
 Wounded but returned to the Front. D. Makins, 
 R. Stower, L. Swinton, Joe Toulson, Joe 
 Toynbee, Jim Harker, Edward Wells, S. 
 Hodgson, Ed. Ambrose, C. Bones, Esau 
 Burrows, Jr., T. Woolerton. 
 
 39. CAPTAIN NORMAN JAMESON 
 
 For nearly a year I have laboured under the banner of 
 
 Blood and Fire, 
 
 Marching the streets with my two faithful women. 
 There are over many Chapels here, 
 Whilst the Methodists with unfair competition, 
 Led by that reprobate Wlnterbourne, 
 Sing enticing hymns in the market-place. 
 Salvationism isn't suited to places where there are no 
 
 slums, 
 
 And nobody lies drunk in the streets to be rescued. 
 There are no real poor, no real crimes here. 
 Last Saturday night I was driven to stand at the door 
 
 of the Golden Cross, 
 Collecting pennies in my tambourine for Sunday's 
 
 dinner; 
 
 The game's not worth the candle. 
 If it hadn't been for Hannah and Laura Cook I should 
 
 have been stranded long ago, 
 But politics are stirring again and a ready tongue ought 
 
 to find a market. 
 
 Meantime, I've a little plan up my sleeve, 
 Which comes off to-night 
 And should result in something useful. 
 It's a gamble, of course 
 But life's nothing else. 
 
 4 6
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 40. ABRAHAM SMART 
 
 When I'm hurrying about my trade folks think I'm 
 
 wrapped up in money-getting, 
 But in the middle of a field of potatoes or reckoning 
 
 the live weight of a pig 
 I'm not there at all, if they did but know it: 
 I'm really skating. 
 
 Spring and summer and autumn are only waste of time, 
 But when the first frost comes I begin to wake up. 
 It's grand to live in these Fens where the water's 
 
 shallow and undisturbed; 
 
 I'm always the first to venture and the last to leave, 
 And while there is ice to bear I wouldn't stop for the 
 
 best bargain going. 
 
 Clear sky, red sun, black ice, and sharp skates : 
 That's my idea of heaven. 
 You swing from side to side and flash past some 
 
 stranger who fancies himself, 
 Whilst your blood races through your body. 
 Now and again in the great frosts you can get all over 
 
 the county, 
 And at the Championship, before thousands of folk, 
 
 beat all comers. 
 It's good to be Champion! 
 But I'm just as happy skating home twenty miles with 
 
 a gang of friends : 
 
 If the wind's against us we form up in file and keep time, 
 Singing together as we rush along like an express train, 
 And holding our breath when we come to where a 
 
 ferryboat's been across two days before. 
 
 41. HANNAH COOK 
 
 You'd think Lena had married Mr Dane instead of 
 
 the postmaster by the airs she puts on ; 
 Brother Jim left off trading at their shop because of that. 
 
 47 B
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 I hope Lottie Burrows won't trap Jim; 
 
 They say she's taken all steps to get her uncle to leave 
 
 her his fortune. 
 
 We don't have to run after any one, 
 'Coz Albert gets good wages now, being head-man to 
 
 the herd; 
 
 But he's not going abroad with 'em to please Mr Dane: 
 We'll die where we've lived. 
 
 Of course I know Albert hankers after the Primitives, 
 And when Captain Jameson leaves 
 Which he soon will I'm very much afraid 
 We'll think about going back 
 Providing they give way over the harmonium. 
 They'll value me now they've seen what I can do, 
 And if Liz Dodds is ratting there'll be no one else to play. 
 My sister-in-law fancies the Captain 
 Poor fool! 
 
 Of course, Laura's useful with the tambourine, 
 And I don't want to stop her helping; 
 That's why I've never told her the truth. 
 He says his wife's married again, 
 But Lena's seen her post cards. 
 Eliza Sharpies called to see the old dad Tuesday night, 
 
 and saw something, 
 Though she won't say what'. 
 If I thought Laura had the Captain in bed I'd scratch 
 
 her eyes out! 
 
 He says he shall be ' late ' this evening; 
 It'll be as well if I follow him when he goes out after 
 
 supper. 
 
 42. HAMILTON DRING 
 
 My life is like one of those days when a sea-fog comes 
 
 across the fen, 
 And you don't know where you are or where you're 
 
 going. 
 
 4 8
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Nineteen years I've lived in this school-house, 
 Built by the late Earl and given to the Church 
 (To propitiate Providence, I suppose). 
 The young ones come from the Council School at 
 
 seven years old, 
 To be educated by me and grounded in religion by 
 
 the Vicar. 
 I teach them their three ' R's,' inculcate a due respect 
 
 for their betters, 
 And at fourteen they drift away with nothing to show 
 
 for it. 
 
 The labourers' boys turn into servile animals, 
 The farmers' boys lead their small herd, 
 And the girls become inferior creatures, each in her 
 
 own station. 
 
 They can sign their names instead of making a mark 
 And read the Government posters or the hymns on 
 
 Sundays : 
 Isaac Creasey and Mogg still spell out each verse for 
 
 the old folks: 
 But that's all ! 
 I had hopes of Cullen who took to literature as if he 
 
 was born for it 
 
 A brilliant lad who'd have done me credit 
 Only his father kept him in Fletton until he couldn't 
 
 stand it any longer, 
 And he hadn't the guts to run away. 
 I kept one of his unfinished poems by me, 
 The rest of his work having vanished; 
 It shows great promise, 
 And he might have immortalised Fletton. 
 I could never make head or tail of his cousin 
 
 Tharp, 
 
 Who hated books and continually played truant; 
 Yet the Vicar thought the world of him, 
 And still does in spite of his downfall. 
 Not being fond of music I can't pretend to judge, 
 
 49
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 But I fear there is nothing notable about his perform- 
 ance or composition. 
 
 He played the fiddle well, but so does Mr Rowett. 
 There was a queer foreign strain in him. 
 Now that poor Cullen's gone I've lost interest in 
 
 everything. 
 It's true (as Mr Lowe says) that Fletton is a world in 
 
 itself, 
 
 But (as he says) it's all on a petty scale. 
 We've the Family at the head of our Feudal System, 
 Sending its roots through all strata 
 And spreading its branches over all divisions, 
 Overshadowing each destiny. 
 The Church is an upper class, taking time from the 
 
 Family; 
 With the great Feudal Barons: the Danes, Todd, 
 
 Smithson, Challands, Hides, and the others; 
 Each in his own castle with his own retainers. 
 The Baptists keep to themselves and are intensely 
 
 respectable, 
 
 The Creaseys and Dobneys their leaders. 
 The Wesleyans are our solid Middle Class, 
 Headed by those well-to-do tradesmen Woolerton, 
 
 Fletcher, and Stower; 
 
 Who busy themselves with temperance work. 
 The Methodists under Mogg and Enderby are mostly 
 
 labourers; 
 While the rest, like old Waddy and Thomson, centre 
 
 round the public-houses. 
 (The Salvation Army never did count: 
 There are only two half-witted women and a sewer 
 
 rat.) 
 Throw in a welter of petty rivalry over Parish District 
 
 and County Council elections, 
 With a terrific amount of intrigue centring round the 
 
 Agent's office who's to have farms, 
 
 And there you are. 
 
 50
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 One thought animates their lives throughout, 
 
 And if they were examined at death one word would 
 
 be found engraven on their hearts: 
 That thought, that word is Land. 
 No art, no learning come near, 
 Except for a visit from Emmanuel Creasey, 
 The distinguished Astronomer who doesn't receive the 
 
 slightest recognition from the Family. 
 Even the war hasn't touched Fletton: 
 A few lads have gone, 
 But they always left when they grew up ; 
 And what wives remain are better off than ever with 
 
 the separation allowance 
 (Like Mrs Toynbee with her fourteen). 
 They probably hope that peace will never come 
 (Which is what all farmers hope). 
 The only ones to suffer are the Vicar and myself, 
 Who feel the pinch in our fixed incomes. 
 Mr Hanbury and Inspector Daniels have feathered 
 
 their nests, 
 W'hile everybody else benefits in one way or another 
 
 by the rising prices. 
 
 There are times when I could drown myself 
 If it wasn't for the nights I spend with Cobbler George 
 Our champion draughts player 
 Who's a chatty soul and the best of company : 
 I win or draw about one in three 
 Which is more than any one else in Fletton can "boast 
 
 of. 
 
 43. JAREZ WELLS 
 
 When we was hoeing 
 We'd hear 'em come, 
 And used to stare 
 Up in the air 
 As if we was dumb; 
 
 51
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 But now we hardly ever notice 'em. 
 
 'Coz after all 
 
 There's nowt in 'em 
 
 When you gets anigh 'em. 
 
 Swinton, he says they're motor-cars 
 
 With floats fixed on, like moffry-bars; 
 
 Here's nowt about 'em as'll stand 
 
 Against a reaper what can tie 
 
 A double knot and cut the thread, 
 
 Knotting the string before your eye; 
 
 4 There's nowt like that to find,' says he; 
 
 But that's a miracle, you see! 
 
 And yet, 'tis fine to watch 'em fly 
 Like a gaggle of geese against the sky, 
 You see 'em V-shaped, high as high; 
 The leader first, then each one follows, 
 When all of a sudden, darting like swallows- 
 Head over heels wing over wing 
 They frisk about like lambs in spring: 
 I tell you they can do any mortal thing. 
 
 Of all, I loves to watch 'em best 
 
 When they come floating home at night, 
 
 Their little bodies sparkling bright, 
 
 With wings held stiff behind 'em so 
 
 Down, down they go 
 
 All diving slantways, homeward to their nest. 
 
 This war's a dolch of talk; 
 A noise, a scare, a wonder in the sky; 
 Less bacon on our baulk 
 I dunno why 
 
 The labourers be getting better pay, 
 Here's no more talk of eighteenpence a day; 
 And farmers, one and all, be crazed sure-lie! 
 
 52
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 With pork at famine price, and news of righting 
 
 From Ned's what out in foreign parts and writing, 
 
 And guns at night-time rumbling away 
 
 As if they couldn't do enough by day: 
 
 They've made my pig lose stones and stones, I lay. 
 
 That Mrs Woolerton ain't got no sugar 
 
 Confound her eyes! 
 
 She says as how the Germans ate it all. 
 
 A pack of lies! 
 
 She's hid it in her cellar, that I know, 
 
 'Coz George's wife she told our Susan so. 
 
 Parson he says as how the world be ending; 
 
 It's cracked he seems to think beyond his mending; 
 
 And over all these aeroplanes be round, 
 
 As if there wasn't room along the ground: 
 
 Rot the old things! 
 
 But there! I guess as how 
 
 Some day they'll set the critters on to plough, 
 
 Or fix 'em up for watering the crops, 
 
 So as they can moisten the turnip-tops. 
 
 They'd be alright of course for scaring crows : 
 
 The mucky things! 
 
 They take a lot of scaring, God he knows 
 
 What gave 'em wings; 
 
 Yes! If they scare the crows it would be grand. 
 
 Meanwhile they goes to war, 
 
 And me 
 
 I tills the land. 
 
 44. GEORGE BARKS 
 
 If the master gets a car I must learn her ways, 
 
 But I hope he won't; 
 
 Give me Spider (our blood mare) in the still-wheeled 
 
 gig 
 
 And you can have your engines: 
 
 53
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 P'raps though 'twould stop missis from driving my 
 
 horses; 
 
 She ruins their mouths and breaks their hearts, 
 Always clicking and flicking the whip however they 
 
 try, 
 
 And lands them home in a white lather. 
 Women and parsons, parsons and women, 
 God keep the reins out of their hands. 
 Missis fusses too much with her garden 
 Pergolas, begonias, and the devil knows what: 
 Twould drive me crazy if I hadn't this harness-room. 
 There's no moon to-night and when I've lit the stove 
 The new housemaid will be able to slip across. 
 Missis nearly caught us last Sunday; 
 The open stove-door shone a light through the 
 
 window 
 
 And she walked in without knocking; 
 But I heard the cinders crunch 
 (That I strew outside on purpose) 
 And popped Mary behind the cupboard door, 
 Closing the stove with my foot. 
 Missis had better look after her own : 
 I know who's oiled the lock of Mary's bedroom doorl 
 I must go now and give Spider a bran-mash. 
 
 45. ARTHUR MOGG 
 
 I saw a rabbit in a net one day 
 
 When Joe Barks didn't hear me, 
 
 And I know just how it felt. 
 
 It's easy for Gwin to say a man can do what he likes, 
 
 But father's been so good to me, and his heart would 
 break if I chucked it. 
 
 He means me to carry on the Grange and the Taber- 
 nacle and the fight with the Earl, 
 
 And marry Miss Smithson; 
 
 54
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 But I hate all our money-grubbing neighbours: 
 Morning to night, year in, year out, nothing else in 
 
 their minds; 
 I wonder it isn't written in letters of gold over the 
 
 chapel door. 
 
 They worship money, and have no thought for any- 
 thing higher: 
 Good reason why! 
 Any one who tries it is soon ruined, 
 Like Joe Gilliat, Georgy Bell, and Thomson South, 
 Or Aaron Tharp, my best friend 
 Smashed flat and flung to rot. 
 Only Aaron didn't mind; 
 
 His soul was in music and came through his fingers: 
 He would corne to chapel when we sang * Cranbrook,' 
 Which he called the finest tune on earth 
 Worthy of Handel 
 
 And rightly to be played by trumpets and an organ: 
 Now where is he ? 
 Fletton Village is so near Hell that you can't tell the 
 
 difference. 
 
 If I was like the young Viscount, 'twould be all right; 
 He takes to it like a duck to water, 
 Without a thought in his empty head but vanity and 
 
 possession. 
 
 I wish Angelina had been a b<5y; 
 She could wear father's breeches to a T. 
 If I was only a farm-labourer I should be happy, 
 And would make sonnets, whenever I felt moved, to 
 
 her I worship, 
 That bright star in her radiant beauty, set on a 
 
 pinnacle, 
 
 Unapproachable by those of meaner clay: 
 The Lady Betty. 
 
 I might have spoken to her at the Bazaar, 
 Only my breath went when she smiled so graciously 
 
 across her stall : 
 
 55
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 There is something fairy-like, some spiritual essence 
 
 That inspires me to higher flights. 
 
 I wish sonnets weren't so difficult 
 
 And you didn't get tangled up about the seventh line. 
 
 46. JOSEPH THOMSON 
 
 They want to turn me out of my beautiful house 
 
 Because I'm not as rich as some, 
 
 But if it's a little bit in want of repair 
 
 That only makes it homelier. 
 
 My father was doctor in Fletton for fifty years, 
 
 Clever as the best, and wanted everywhere. 
 
 He saved the old Earl's life once 
 
 And got the freehold of this house in consequence. 
 
 If he drank like a fish, he worked like a horse! 
 
 I can't say I copy him at the work: 
 
 It isn't worth while; 
 
 I can get a living by odd ways, using my brains, 
 
 Especially in the fowl and egg business 
 
 Which has been most profitable lately, 
 
 And almost made up for the drop in the carrying 
 
 trade 
 
 Which isn't worth a kick! 
 Books for Townsend 
 (As if he hadn't plenty), 
 Tinned eatables for the Edgerleys 
 (Why can't she shop at home ?) 
 Papers for Joe Cutts, sweets for Maria Creasey, and 
 
 leather for Seth Jordan. 
 Be that as it may 
 Never, never will I sell my old home with its shady 
 
 trees. 
 
 Dr Berry sorely wants it, and so does Isaac Creasey; 
 They're always at me but I scorn their bids. 
 The river flows by my garden handy for fishing, 
 
 56
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Only disturbed by the Hard-Shell Baptists 
 
 Who ' dip ' each other near the bridge in their clothes 
 
 To wash their sins away. 
 
 They put Fullerton under last Sunday, 
 
 And damned if there weren't three dead perch on the 
 
 bank by sunset, 
 
 Poisoned by his sins that floated down. 
 Isaac Creasey is the worst of the Hard-Shells : 
 He holds a mortgage on my house, 
 And I should complain to Daniels 
 Because I have to drink the water, 
 Only they're building a ducking-place inside the 
 
 chapel 
 
 To do it on the quiet in warm water, 
 As if that's any good : 
 I hope Creasey'll fall in and get drowned. 
 
 47. ANN BELLAMY 
 
 I shall praise and bless my Creator all my days 
 
 For guiding Mr Creasey's hand 
 
 To let me have this cottage, 
 
 So I can get regular to the Baptist Chapel 
 
 To hear the Word. 
 
 If it wasn't for my religion I should never have come 
 
 through, 
 
 But He has sustained me with His hand. 
 I didn't so much mind Jeremiah beating me when he 
 
 was drunk, 
 
 Which was nigh always, 
 But when he took me to Hordle 
 Where I couldn't hear the Gospel 
 It almost broke my heart. 
 Providence in its wisdom removed him, 
 And now I am happy at the feet of Jesus. 
 I earn a few shillings cleaning the chapel, 
 
 57
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 (And making bulls-eyes) 
 
 Sufficient for my needs, 
 
 And find a penny for the collection. 
 
 When Mr Creasey's father baptized me in the river 
 
 I was afraid of the water and all my breath went; 
 
 But as he put me under the Spirit descended 
 
 And I saw Heaven open. 
 
 That vision never leaves me, 
 
 And I wouldn't change with the Earl in all his glory. 
 
 What will it avail him when he cries for a drop of 
 
 water ? 
 
 In the course of nature I shall soon pass on 
 To join the throng above in adoration, 
 When my sorrows will be forgotten : 
 All my hunger, all my tears, 
 All my troubles vanish like a mist, 
 And I shall be repaid a thousandfold. 
 Mrs Lome left a jelly yesterday 
 And asked if I didn't hate filling the dirty lamps: 
 If she only knew! 
 
 Serving in the Temple is my delight; 
 Perhaps I shall do the same up there. 
 
 48. ENOCH WlNTERBOURNE 
 
 Once I was wicked and sung in pubs; 
 
 It brought me more drinks than I care to remember; 
 
 But since my conversion 
 
 The Almighty has seen fit to use my gifts for his 
 
 service, 
 
 And in the Primitive Methodist Tabernacle 
 We dedicate ourselves to prayer and praise: 
 Especially the latter. 
 My heart swells in my throat 
 When the spirit moves me to strike up one of the old 
 
 tunes : 
 
 58
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Grace ! 'tis a charming sound, 
 
 Harmonious to the ear. . . 
 
 How that rolls and rings and turns the corners 
 
 With what Miss Mogg calls fugue and counterpoint 
 
 and canon. 
 
 No new-fangled jiggety tunes 
 Like they mince in church without opening their 
 
 mouths 
 
 Because it wouldn't be genteel, 
 But a real old-fashioned four-cornered rouser; 
 And don't we make her bell when we march round the 
 
 village, 
 
 Me all unworthy at the head, 
 To gather the faithful for service. 
 Though Jos' Swinton will drag 
 I beat with my fist to keep him up, 
 For time is everything. 
 
 When Enderby and Coulson with their bass, 
 Gwinny Mogg the alto, and Louey Atkin the treble 
 Lead the others in their parts, 
 And my tenor swells clear over all the rest, 
 'Tis Heaven opening. 
 
 If I could bring Ruston to see the error of his ways 
 I wouldn't want nothing more never. 
 
 59
 
 CRANBROOK. 
 
 Vocal Score. 
 TREBLE. In cheerful style. 
 
 T. CLARKE (1805). 
 
 I^*= 
 
 -&-' 
 
 Grace ! 'tis a charming sound, Har - mon - ious to the ear ; 
 ALTO. 
 
 Grace ! 'tis a charming sound, Har - mon - ious to the ear ; 
 TENOR (8ve lower). 
 
 
 Grace ! 'tis a charming sound, Har - mon - ious to the ear ; 
 
 BASS. 
 
 gpE2Eg=gjj=Eg i_ iES 
 
 SE^ =fe 
 
 Grace ! 'tis a charming sound, Har - mon - ious to the ear ; 
 
 ~ 
 
 _ T r-j _ m - _ 
 
 r =P:bg 
 
 Heav'n with the ech-o shall re - sound, 
 
 
 Heav'n with the 
 
 Heav'n with the ech-o shall re - sound, 
 
 Heav'n with the 
 
 Heav'n with the ech-o shall re -sound, Heav'n with the 
 
 H 
 
 4 
 
 Heav'n with the ech o shall re sound, Heav'n with the 
 60
 
 zzzgzzzqzzzlil[-_ ! l Ip Li|zpzizzzzpzzz: lim 
 
 zzt: =*db^ zzzz*z]=p = ^:zt=in*it:: 
 
 ech - o shall re - sound, And all the earth shall hear, 
 
 And 
 
 
 ech - o shall re - sound, 
 
 H-T I 
 
 And all the earth shall 
 
 __ zj 
 
 ech - o shall re - sound, 
 
 And all the earth shall 
 
 
 ech - o shall re - sound, And all the earth shall hear, 
 
 And 
 
 E*iP=iE 
 
 ntztr: _ t_tn mzzrjzjrl: tzzzi: U 
 
 all the earth shall hear, 
 
 And all the earth shall hear. 
 
 
 hear, 
 
 And all the earth shall hear, And all the earth shall hear. 
 
 hear, 
 
 And all the earth shall hear, And all the earth shall hear. 
 
 iZZCZD 
 
 all the earth shall hear, 
 
 And all the earth shall hear. 
 
 61
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 49. NOAH CREASEY, M.P.S. 
 
 It's thirteen years since I wedded Lorna Ravell, 
 And why she left me on the ninth day still bothers my 
 
 dreams. 
 
 That Cornish farmhouse wasn't as lively as Fletton, 
 But I fancy she felt the cold; 
 
 She was thin and small and shivered all the time in bed; 
 Then without a word . . . 
 Leaving me to this rotten business where nobody 
 
 comes except they're in a hurry 
 And can't wait to visit the cheating Ely Stores on 
 
 Saturdays. 
 
 (That's an aeroplane!} 
 How can I afford to make a show on five customers a 
 
 day: 
 Powders to condition horses, rat-poison for foxes, 
 
 blood-mixture, and homoeopathic pilules for Mrs 
 
 Dobney; 
 What a gang! 
 
 Not a soul worth a kick now Cullen's gone 
 There's Borkman prancing past; 
 Fancy sleeping with Minnie Harker at half a crown 
 
 whilst his lawful wife earns twenty pounds in 
 
 London 
 
 They say she's terribly seductive with her thin legs 
 These Fletton girls are either coarse or scraggy and I 
 
 can't fancy them 
 Poor Cullen! 
 I used to find him on summer evenings on Roundhead 
 
 Rise 
 
 Staring in a maze at the chimneys and spires of Bly; 
 He said they were like the Arabian Nights, 
 Though what he meant I couldn't rightly guess. 
 He was always a bit queer 
 
 And used to speak of Fletton as if it was a living being: 
 
 62
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 When any one died he'd say, ' Fletton's lost another 
 
 tooth,' 
 
 And when Tharp went he said, ' Fletton's lost its ear.' 
 He was too thick with Aaron, who I didn't fancy 
 Though they made a good pair : 
 One thin, pale, and spectacled, the other short, dark, 
 
 and bright-eyed. 
 
 Sometimes I think Guy was right, 
 For Fletton thinks of nothing but itself: 
 Although, so far as I hear, the only time it was ever 
 
 united was when the Toll Gate was pulled down : 
 Yet the war doesn't touch it, 
 And if the rest of England vanished Fletton would go 
 
 on much the same: 
 
 No drugs, of course, nor tea nor sugar, 
 But they'd not be missed for long. 
 
 50. TOMMY STOWER 
 
 It's grand to have religion! 
 
 Look at me, the youngest of eighteen ! 
 
 Father was only a day-labourer at one-and-ninepence, 
 
 But I begun with swapping rabbits 
 
 And took to hay and corn. 
 
 Being a Wesleyan like so many of the warmest farmers, 
 
 One thing worked with another under Providence: 
 
 That's the best of Wesleyans, 
 
 They're well-to-do and hang together; , 
 
 The Church are bankrupt and not worth a kick, 
 
 While Primitives are mostly labourers, 
 
 And the Baptists are too stuck-up. 
 
 What if jealous folks call me sharp ? 
 
 That's only 'coz they're flats: 
 
 You have to be sharp or you can't rise. 
 
 Aaron Tharp 's father left him a beautiful home 
 
 And a business second to none; 
 
 6 3 F
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Now he's a bankrupt wandering fiddler, 
 
 While I live in his house with the bow-windows. 
 
 He had first chance, too, at Sarah Rowett, 
 
 But he let her go and I snapped her. 
 
 (I might have done better if I'd waited, 
 
 But Rowett's helped me a lot in the business.) 
 
 It's a good thing Tharp's gone; 
 
 He would always have been slandering me, 
 
 Saying I did him out of his home : 
 
 Luckily he didn't belong to chapel or church 
 
 Nor yet the Golden Cross, 
 
 So nobody took no notice of his talk. 
 
 I shall marry my little Franky to Woolerton's Molly; 
 
 They'll have a good share of land between them 
 
 And will be able to get up among the gentry. 
 
 Providence looks after its own just as well as the Evil 
 
 One 
 And sometimes better. 
 
 51. SUSAN KING 
 
 Few knows as much about Fletton as me, 
 
 For you can't diddle one what goes everywhere 
 
 Even to the Dower House: 
 
 A woman that's handy is always welcome. 
 
 I can sew, darn, knit, peg hearth-rugs, make quilts, 
 
 mend chairs and sofas, 
 
 And a hundred odd jobs that keep the pot boiling, 
 To say nothing of births and deaths. 
 It's not so much the money or the food, 
 As the things given you to take away that count. 
 Although I bear the news from house to house, 
 I don't tell all I know by a long way. 
 That Mrs Woolerton with her sealskin jacket and 
 
 fancy airs ain't no better than she ought, 
 64
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 And let Doctor Berry rave against women as he may, 
 
 It wasn't the death of a relation that took his house- 
 keeper back to London. 
 
 I know how Joe Goose stabbed his mate over Widow 
 Marker, 
 
 And how Old Blow came to his unusual end, 
 
 And my eye's on that cunning Salvationist Captain. 
 
 Many's the Christmas-box comes my way, 
 
 Both for what I tell and what I don't. 
 
 Gwinny Mogg is going to stay with a school-friend in 
 London, 
 
 But old Mogg little guesses who that ' friend ' is : 
 
 I saw her last night where our back lane is shady, 
 
 Kissing the young Viscount as fierce as a weasel; 
 
 They're all alike, them Moggses! 
 
 I can put two and two together right enough; 
 
 But when she comes back, innocent as a peach, 
 
 I shan't let on; 
 
 I don't want turning out of my cottage: 
 
 It will keep all right for a rainy day, will that tit-bit. 
 
 My Mary, what's the very spit of Sister Martha in 
 America, is getting a likely lass; 
 
 She's just gone for housemaid at the Pinions, 
 
 And I've learnt her how to look sideways and hold off 
 
 (Though not too long) ; 
 
 She's fitted out with stockings and petticoats fit for a 
 princess: 
 
 Nothing's usefuller for a girl in service 
 
 If the master has plenty of money. 
 
 52. ANDREW LONGTHORNE 
 
 The air's so bracing in this delightful village 
 
 That my health, beaten down by London, is fast 
 
 recovering, 
 
 And I have determined to sell my business, and farm. 
 
 65
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 i 
 
 It's the finest life! 
 
 The days pass like a dream, 
 
 Well-ordered, smooth, regular, and altogether delight- 
 fill; 
 
 With your own milk, butter, fruit, poultry, vegetables, 
 
 Game from your gun, pigs fattening in the sty, 
 
 And the corn ripening all around: 
 
 Nothing to worry you. 
 
 Why any one lives in a city I can't imagine. 
 
 Of course, there are discontented people everywhere; 
 
 There's young Edgerley, the amateur farmer, 
 
 Losing his father's fortune as fast as it was made, 
 
 But he's a fool and would fail anywhere. 
 
 The loyal tenantry are natural and happy, 
 
 As you can see on market-day, 
 
 Or any evening in the Golden Cross. 
 
 I'm going ferreting this afternoon with Mr Bones, 
 
 A rough diamond of Nature's best; 
 
 Fancy the schoolmistress sending an inspector to 
 summon him: 
 
 You can't tame animals by soft words; 
 
 She ought to try them on his pedigree stallion a 
 ramping brute. 
 
 Doctor Berry who cured my sciatica, 
 
 Is jaundiced and full of complaints. 
 
 My niece Georgina 
 
 On whose recommendation I came here 
 
 Says he's no good at all. 
 
 He should see our slums! 
 
 There aren't any real poor in the country, 
 
 And fresh air will beat filtered water any day. 
 
 I've always been a good Liberal, 
 
 But I should have to reconsider if I lived on the land. 
 
 Things are all of a piece here: 
 
 Church, Estate, good farming, good sport, 
 
 The Golden Cross and its jolly landlord, 
 
 Full of old tales, 
 
 66
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 With a lot of dyspeptic Wesleyans in opposition. 
 The only thing that makes me doubtful is Emily: 
 I must talk to her when I get back. 
 
 53. JACKSON CHALLANDS 
 
 What a good thing to have an Earl like ours! 
 When the bull got father in a corner, Thompson 
 
 Rowett rushed off to the Agent, 
 Offering three pounds five an acre for the farm : 
 He might have saved his breath, the dirty Radical. 
 The Agent sent for me, 
 
 And said I could have it on the same terms as father 
 (Twenty-two and sixpence, with rates according) : 
 It shows how a good tenant is valued 
 When they refuse a thousand a year extra rather than 
 
 lose him. 
 
 Why should I vote Radical and go to chapel ? 
 I can't find anything as'll suit me better, 
 And wouldn't swap our old home for all Australia. 
 Though Bannister Hides may braunge about his 
 
 potato-growing, 
 What suited father suits me, and old-fashioned things 
 
 last longest: 
 
 We shall be here when them Hideses is forgotten. 
 Should I be likely to vote for the scarecrow who stands 
 
 for the Liberals, 
 Who knows nothing of land, 
 
 And says our labourers should have a pound a day ? 
 As for Chapels! 
 
 When I'm married or buried I want it done properly, 
 Not messed about by Billy Bean or any of the local 
 
 preachers. 
 
 The Earl likes his sport, but don't he pay for it ? 
 The bit of harm done by game is allowed for in the 
 
 rent, 
 
 6 7
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 And nobody loves hunting better than me. 
 
 The war's made farming almost profitable, 
 
 And labour's our only trouble : 
 
 They're getting discontented and unreasonable, 
 
 Mostly on account of Moller Holmes, Joe Makins, 
 
 and young Butler Atkin, 
 
 Who ought to be treated the same as poachers. 
 Directly the war's over the boot'll be on the other leg 
 And we shall have our own back, 
 With them on their knees for half a crown a day. 
 Mr Rowett's sounding me about Vi, 
 And I must talk to her; 
 She's a bit in the way now, 
 Because I shan't marry again: 
 It's cheaper to buy your milk than keep a cow. 
 
 54. ESAU BURROWS 
 
 Out in the States I was as good as any one, 
 
 With a business and three farms, 
 
 And never thought to see Fletton again 
 
 Until young South ran across me, 
 
 When I gave him a job for his father's sake. 
 
 He lent me a copy of the old Chronicle, 
 
 And there I saw some poetry about Blind John Taylor. 
 
 I've only cried twice in my life 
 
 The first when Isabel and the baby died 
 
 And why them verses fetched a tear I cannot guess. 
 
 They reminded me somehow of father, 
 
 And brought everything back again : 
 
 The river, the thatched roofs, the trees in the church- 
 yard, 
 
 Old Abram Potterton, the churchwarden, 
 
 The Cross Roads where we fought the Hordle Roughs, 
 
 And the corner where I played at marbles with Johnnie 
 Taylor, 
 
 68
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Who lost his sight in the Great Fire of sixty-three. 
 
 Folks can be too smart! 
 
 Getting money ain't everything, 
 
 But here they're just the same as ever; 
 
 You know where you have 'em, 
 
 They speak their minds and keep their promises; 
 
 And there's a lot in that. 
 
 Young Stower asked me why I sold up and came back 
 
 to this cottage, 
 But I couldn't rightly say. 
 Stower's a smart lad and will go far; 
 He caught what Tharp's boy threw away when he 
 
 took to fiddling: 
 A lot of good that done him. 
 Yet I don't rightly cotton to Stower; 
 He belongs across the water, where they don't mind 
 
 what you do so long as you get on. 
 Fletton's not so bad as I used to fancy: 
 There's worse things than Earls, even if you throw in 
 
 Daniels and Ferrett and the Agent. 
 When I was young I was all for change and none to 
 
 hold you back; but now I'm not so sure: 
 America may be self-made and fresh, but it's finished 
 
 rough, and there no join to the flats. 
 I can't rightly see as Fletton'd be better off if Holmes 
 
 and Makins and Peg-Leg Jackson owned it; 
 If some one has to own property, I reckon the bigger 
 
 the Owner the better. 
 Mind you, these farms are too large and ought to be 
 
 cut up to keep the young fellows at home; 
 But wherever you go there's something could be 
 
 altered, 
 
 And taking it all in all it's where I want to finish. 
 I'll stroll down now to the Golden Cross 
 And chat with Harvey about the times when we went 
 
 to Dame Todd's school. 
 
 69
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 55. HENRY WOOLERTON 
 
 Emmanuel Broomfield tried to get my Jane 
 
 With his loud swagger and braunging ways, 
 
 But women know solid worth, and he went on to the 
 Asylum, 
 
 Losing me a hundred and sixteen pounds: 
 
 The brainless swindling noodle. 
 
 Jane had a narrow squeak; 
 
 At one time I feared he would get her, 
 
 But he was known to be paying to three different 
 women for a child each, 
 
 And his housekeeper beginning to look sideways : 
 
 He might have married and had bairns much cheaper. 
 
 A wonderful woman is Jane! 
 
 She may be a little severe sometimes, 
 
 And sometimes rather too exacting: 
 
 She forgets I'm not like that beefy brute of a Broom- 
 field. 
 
 She's just ordered a motor-van 
 
 And its price kept me awake all last night. 
 
 Terrible foresighted is Jane! 
 
 The chapel would do ill without her, and I often 
 wonder she doesn't get into the pulpit. 
 
 Only one thing she fears 
 
 That's the Co-operative Society: 
 
 If a branch opened here it would be awkward, 
 
 Because of their wicked scheme of giving profits to 
 customers, 
 
 Invented by Conservatives to ruin honest tradesmen; 
 
 Yet I believe that Jane would best them. 
 
 Here's Bennington on his tricycle looking all lost 
 
 As well he may! 
 
 They shouldn't send us such extremists for candidates; 
 
 With anybody but him we could have swept the 
 
 board, 
 
 70
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 And there would have been no crack for Cutts to poke 
 
 his nose in. 
 
 Mr Bennington has quietened down a bit, 
 But his scheme for a vegetarian farm dished him at the 
 
 start 
 * No live stock, no farmyard manure, and neither hens 
 
 nor dogs ' 
 
 I suppose he'd have refused a seat in Noah's ark! 
 Not that Labour can ever come to anything: 
 I agree entirely with Luke Fletcher about that, 
 Only it means Wardle for ever. 
 
 56. ANTHONY WOODS 
 
 On my seventh birthday 
 
 I stood on the Bridge to watch Farmer South's teams 
 
 go by: 
 
 Beautiful horses, well-fed and coal-black, 
 With their brass harness shining in the sun 
 And coloured caddis in their manes and tails. 
 I set my teeth and swore I'd have the like, 
 Cost what it might: 
 Now 1 have the like. 
 I have South's house and farm, 
 My horses are finer than his, and my barns are full. 
 All I want is a wife. 
 
 Maria Creasey tried hard to wed me once; 
 But I dodged her. 
 
 I've only seen one girl I would marry, 
 And that's the school-teacher : 
 Not that little bitch of a Harker, 
 But Miss Burtonshaw, who came here for her health : 
 If she would have me I'd give her anything in the 
 
 world. 
 
 Folks call me tight and hard 
 But that 2;irl wouldn't. 
 
 71
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 She's a cut above the women round here, 
 
 And I haven't dared to ask her yet. 
 
 I've been so busy getting what I wanted that I've never 
 
 had time to bother about marrying; 
 Especially as Widow Harker was housekeeper to me 
 
 for so long 
 
 A clever woman who meant to marry me: 
 But that's a horse of another colour. 
 I go to church regular on Sundays 
 Just to see Miss Burtonshaw in the choir: 
 She's the most beautiful creature I ever set eyes on, 
 And I mean to get her. 
 
 57. DAVID COULSON 
 
 When I was learning my trade at the pig-killing 
 Not one cottage in Fletton but had two or three 
 
 ready, 
 And the killers worked all Feast-week without ever 
 
 stopping. 
 
 Pigs was pigs in them days; 
 None of your wankling creatures that slip sideways 
 
 through the fence, 
 
 But good forty-stoners, fit for a king. 
 Ah! the Feast, the Feast, 
 How it brings back the smell of fresh pork and the 
 
 loud cries of dying pigs. 
 I remember, when I was only that high, 
 Seeing them scraped and pale on the cratches 
 All clean and white and beautiful, 
 And I never rested till father 'prenticed me. 
 Best of all is to kill your own, 
 What you've fed with your own hand all the year 
 
 round, 
 Watching and tending from a grunting sucker to a 
 
 fair and proper size. 
 
 72
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 They know you so well, they don't struggle even when 
 
 the rope goes round their snout : 
 After that it doesn't matter what they think; 
 This knife slips through their gullet slick as butter. 
 I dream of pigs and carve them in my sleep ! 
 All good things come from them: 
 Pies tasty from the oven, 
 Spare-ribs, collard-meat, face, feet, head, 
 Flams and flitches of bacon for the kitchen baulk 
 And the scraps from odd corners : 
 Is there an animal so useful anywhere? 
 
 58. WILLIAM BOWLES 
 
 I shouldn't have thought it of Brother Thomas 
 
 After all the years and years we lived together, 
 
 Working the old farm as partners 
 
 With never a wry word passed, 
 
 To marry a rich widow older than himself 
 
 And break from all the old ways, 
 
 Taking up with a woman that's overbearing 
 
 And stuck up to the sky with her own importance. 
 
 My Jemima's as good as her and a deal usefuller 
 
 To say nothing of looks 
 
 While our twin boys are as lusty as young colts, 
 
 And soon may have a sister. 
 
 Strong and healthy is Jemima, 
 
 She works like three and is always jolly. 
 
 I wouldn't swap with Thomas for ten times the money, 
 
 Leastways not for more than one day: 
 
 I should like to try it once, to see what it's like: 
 
 But you can't eat money, nor drink it, nor yet sleep 
 
 with it. 
 
 Poor Thomas! 
 He should have married Mary Wilders instead of that 
 
 faded Jezebel. 
 
 73
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Sister Marion says she paints herself, 
 
 Though I don't quite see how she does that 
 
 Unless it's underneath her clothes, 
 
 Same as you put a dab of tar on a sheep when you cut 
 
 it in shearing 
 To keep the flies away. 
 No! I don't think she paints herself, 
 It would come off on the bedclothes 
 Though Marion's a knowable woman. 
 Thomas is a gentleman farmer now 
 And copies everything the Pinions do. 
 I can manage very well without Mrs Thomas's 
 
 relations or her garden-parties or her fine manners. 
 The only thing I can't forgive him is letting his Missis 
 
 try to trample on Jemima because she was a cook : 
 What about it ? 
 
 I lay I've better things to eat than Thomas: 
 His Missis can't do anything useful, 
 Not even have a baby: 
 
 No wonder he looks more dried up every day. 
 I'm glad in a way he doesn't come to chapel, 
 It's so awkward when we meet, 
 
 Because we have to pretend there's nothing between us. 
 That woman's got her claws in him 
 And he'll never be happy again like we used to be in 
 
 the old days: 
 
 Many pleasant times we had together, 
 And I can't help wishing somehow that things had 
 
 been different. 
 
 59. HARRY HEMSLEY 
 
 I can't bear it any more! 
 
 A grown man of twenty, made a fool of before the 
 
 men: 
 How can they be respectful when mother rushes out 
 
 and contradicts my orders ? 
 
 74
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 She ought to know better; 
 
 Never dared she raise her voice before father 
 
 Who kept everything in his own hands with a ven- 
 geance. 
 
 Close as a church was father! 
 
 He ought to have trusted me more, 
 
 Only I never dare reason with him; 
 
 And when he was struck down in the night through 
 eating goose against Doctor Berry's orders 
 
 We were completely flummuxed: 
 
 Both of us looking as soft as Silly Sam, 
 
 Not even knowing how to work a bank account : 
 
 Hundreds of pounds we've lost in three months. 
 
 To make matters worse he left a will 
 
 Making all to mother for her lifetime. 
 
 That was a bitter blow! 
 
 He should have trusted his only son ; 
 
 If he'd ever given me a chance I could have shown 
 him. 
 
 She's trying to stop me marrying Bessy 
 
 Just because the Keys go to church, 
 
 But I'm going to have it out to-day; 
 
 She must let me have complete charge of the Little 
 Manor 
 
 Whilst she stops here in the Three Hundreds. 
 
 'Twill be as much as she can manage 
 
 And more 
 
 We'd see in a year's time which farm looked best. 
 
 If she won't give way I have another string: 
 
 Jack Key says I can raise a couple of thousand on my 
 reversion 
 
 And take a farm anywhere, 
 
 Then mother will be sorry she drove me out : 
 
 The neighbours will cry shame on her. 
 
 If only that doddering old fool of a Rowett 
 
 Who father made trustee, nobody knows why 
 
 Wasn't such an ass and backed her up, 
 
 75
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 She would have agreed to do what I want. 
 
 He loves to have his nose in everywhere does Rowett: 
 
 Jack Key says he's trustee to lots of widows 
 
 And lives on them all. 
 
 The other morning I ordered the boy to harness the gig 
 
 To call for Bessy and go to the Church Bazaar; 
 
 Then mother told the boy she would have the gig 
 
 herself 
 
 And the old market cart would do for me : 
 Why couldn't she speak to me about it ? 
 
 60. FREDERICK DOBNEY 
 
 I've kept up and kept up and kept up till I can't keep 
 
 up any longer; 
 
 A man gets desperate if he's pushed too far, 
 And when things come to you in the night it's time to 
 
 alter. 
 
 Oh ! how it makes your heart ache 
 Pretending amongst everybody that you're rich when 
 
 you're not 
 
 And smiling when you're in Hell. 
 This grand old business, the best in Fletton, 
 Built up by Grandfather Dobney, 
 Has been a perfect gold-mine 
 But you can empty a gold-mine, 
 Leastways my family could. 
 Susan backs up the children and the money flows out 
 
 at every chink. 
 I thought after we'd reared and schooled and fixed 
 
 them 
 
 Herbert and Lizzie and Maud 
 (Poor Herbert !) 
 That I should have peace and quietness for the rest of 
 
 my days: 
 
 Just keep an eye on the shop 
 
 76
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 And stroll down to the Golden Cross in the evening; 
 
 But that's where I made a grand mistake. 
 
 Those girls take after their mother 
 
 And show off one against another. 
 
 They set Herbert's wife off as well, and Susan has to 
 
 keep pace. 
 
 Susan's like all the Key women, 
 They ruin their husbands, sooner or later. 
 I never thought I should have to say it 
 But by God she's ruined me ! 
 I may as well own I'm at the end of my tether, 
 And if it wasn't for my son-in-law, John Overton, I 
 
 should be in despair. 
 Luckily I have him to fall back on ; 
 He's one of the family now and is counted a promising 
 
 man in Fletton; 
 
 Piggy Smithson says he'll go far, 
 And he knows what he's talking about. 
 John started with next to nothing and all he touched 
 
 turned to gold; 
 He's never looked back 
 
 And in ten years' time will be one of our biggest farmers. 
 He's fond of me, is John ; 
 Many an hour has he spent in my company; 
 ' All he has is mine for the asking,' 
 That's what he's said to me more than once, 
 And now's the time to ask. 
 
 If I don't get some credit inside four days I'm done for : 
 I must catch him on Thursday at the Anniversary Tea. 
 
 61. JOHN OVERTON 
 
 All my brothers and sisters spliced up with their own 
 
 sort, 
 But I waited a bit and carried off Mr Dobney's 
 
 daughter : 
 
 77
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 You can't be too careful who you marry, 
 
 It fixes you tight and you never climb after. 
 
 I've risen right up the tree; 
 
 And now we've got the drawing-room furnished 
 
 You might fancy yourself at the Moggs' or the Wooler- 
 
 tons'; 
 The fellow what sold it said no better suite could be 
 
 found in Fletton, 
 
 Look where you might from Grange to Manor. 
 Maud gives tea to visitors on Friday afternoons. 
 And young Hemsley brought Miss Key to call: 
 That shows where we stand. 
 Everybody knows I'm a rising man: 
 From father's small holding step by step I've grown to 
 
 a hundred and eighteen acres, 
 And I'm only thirty-two! 
 The one difficulty is capital : 
 So long as I lived with mother at twelve-and-six a 
 
 week I never looked back; 
 All I earned and saved went into the land, 
 And it's wonderful how fast you can grow like that. 
 I didn't realise what setting up house cost; 
 Not that I'm sorry; 
 I wouldn't go back to them low ways for all the land 
 
 in Fletton. 
 
 As Maud says: It's worse than pigs! 
 But it is a pull ; 
 
 Your hand's always in your pocket, 
 And that plush suite is going to be the very devil. 
 The fellow that sold it calls to the day for his instal- 
 ment ; 
 
 He looks so grand you daren't offer excuses; 
 And there's the best bedroom suite still running, to 
 
 say nothing of the ordinary things. 
 We didn't really need a best bedroom; 
 I told Maud so, and wish I'd held out; 
 
 It's all very well, 
 
 7 8
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 But I'm beginning to look the wrong way round. 
 Instead of buying bullocks I've had to take some of 
 
 Mr Todd's on agistment, 
 And though he pays a good price it's not like having 
 
 your own, 
 
 Because he gets the profit, 
 
 And worst of all the neighbours are bound to know: 
 They soon begin to point and whisper. 
 The cash that ought to have gone for bullocks 
 Lays dead in furniture, paint, baby-clothes, garden 
 
 fences, charwomen, curtains, china services, and 
 
 God knows what: 
 All earning nothing. 
 
 You can't rightly say how the cash does go, 
 It just takes wings 
 (Like that aeroplane) 
 And now 
 
 If I must own it to myself 
 I'm in a corner. 
 
 My only chance is to borrow off Mr Dobney: 
 I'm in the family and he thinks the world of me; 
 Not a month ago he said he should help me if ever I 
 
 wanted it, 
 
 And that draper's business is a gold-mine. 
 His children spend all he gives them fast enough 
 Herbert, and his prancing wife that made such a show 
 And has come such a cropper, 
 And Lizzie who fancies herself because she's engaged 
 
 to young Todd 
 Or says she is 
 
 It's them that egg Maud on, blast 'em! 
 We ought to have waited for that drawing-room suite, 
 But they all want to best each other, 
 And certainly we've shown them the way. 
 Miss Key will never call on Herbert's wife, 
 Who's cooked her goose! 
 It's a good thing I have Mr Dobney to fall back on, 
 
 79
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Or, to tell the truth, I don't know how I should carry 
 
 on till harvest, 
 
 Let alone keep up the furniture instalments. 
 Come what may, I won't agree to a dining-table : 
 The old one's plenty good enough 
 And Maud must be ruly. 
 I'll catch Mr Dobney on Thursday at the Chapel 
 
 Anniversary. 
 
 62. THOMAS BOWLES 
 
 You might say a man has no right to worry over trifles, 
 
 Yet we are as we are, 
 
 And I own that it's made me unhappy. 
 
 William is my twin brother and on the old farm 
 
 We played and lived and grew up together, 
 
 Sharing everything equal, 
 
 While father licked us turn by turn about. 
 
 When the great day came 
 
 That Hepzibah Creasey old James's third wife 
 
 (Hepzibah Key that was) 
 
 Came to be free by reason of somebody leaving the lid 
 
 off their well, 
 
 And after due approachment and ceremony 
 Agreed to be mine, 
 
 What should William do but rush off and marry a girl 
 W T ho'd been in service at the Dower House, 
 Dragging the respected name of Bowles into the mud 
 When there was no occasion. 
 There's no reason to believe she wouldn't have been 
 
 accommodating, 
 
 But when I tried to help him out, 
 Offering my services to bargain with the girl, 
 He got quite vexed and said he'd always wanted to 
 
 marry her. 
 
 We've always been well thought of, us Bowleses, 
 
 80 "
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 So that even James Creasey's widow didn't think her- 
 self too grand to marry me : 
 
 But now! 
 
 If Jemima called 'twould be at the kitchen door 
 
 Where she'd be comfortable with her friends. 
 
 Not that she's not a likely wench 
 
 And anybody would be glad to live with her in the 
 accommodating way; 
 
 (Like Tom Bavin) 
 
 But Hepzibah can't take her to her arms, 
 
 And unfortunately by reason of William being born a 
 few minutes before me, 
 
 Jemima thinks she comes before Hepzibah. 
 
 I can't forgive him for that! 
 
 Of course he'll have a score of brats 
 
 And the gutter will be full of little Bowleses bawling 
 their names about; 
 
 But that's to be expected : 
 
 As Hepzibah says 
 
 These sort of people have no control over themselves. 
 
 63. MARY KING 
 
 I am so fond of George Barks 
 
 And if only mother'd let me we'd get wedded to- 
 morrow : 
 
 He's ready to take a married coachman's job, 
 
 But mother says we must have money to start on, 
 
 And George has never saved a ha'penny. 
 
 Mother says I'm young and she'll find the money if 
 we wait six months. 
 
 The Missis watches me out of her eye-corners 
 
 And I'm afraid of her, 
 
 But the Master likes me; 
 
 He's tall and thin and sometimes queer 
 
 And doesn't look strong. 
 
 81
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 George says Missis doesn't care a carrot for him; 
 It may be sol 
 
 I was shutting the study window, night before last, 
 When the Master come up quiet as a mouse and 
 
 fastened it for me; 
 
 He leaned against me with his arm across my shoulder: 
 Wasn't it kind of him ? 
 Last night he came in again to help, 
 Putting his arms right round me to reach the window; 
 He was shaking as if he had the ague and I was feeling 
 
 so sorry for him 
 When all of a sudden he left go the latch and squeezed 
 
 me terrible; 
 Then hurried away: 
 Mother says it will be all right if I do exactly what 
 
 she tells me. 
 
 64. WIDOW HEMSLEY 
 
 If it wasn't for Mr Rowett I should go crazy; 
 But he's so kind and considerate- 
 And preaches such a beautiful sermon. 
 If only my James had been like him ! 
 His wife didn't value Mr Rowett a scrap, 
 (She was only a Winterbourne) 
 And I don't think he misses her. 
 The world is very hard on widows; 
 Everybody bands together to rob them; 
 And it drives me wild to see myself done and can't 
 
 stop it, 
 
 Whilst on top of all my troubles comes Harry. 
 Mr Rowett says I have the reins and must be firm. 
 If I let him marry that Bessy Key she'll drag him off 
 
 to church and I shall never have authority over 
 
 him: 
 
 She's nine years older than Harry 
 
 82
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 And ought to get one of her own age 
 
 If she could, the huzzy! 
 
 James would turn in his grave at the thought. 
 
 Harry is only a child and must be guided ; 
 
 As Mr Rowett says, he hasn't a penny and must do 
 
 what he's told, 
 Only he's tiresome and rude and tries to copy his 
 
 father by giving orders, 
 Ignoring his mother altogether: 
 I shan't stand it: 
 
 James was enough in his lifetime. 
 Those Keys are a bankrupt crew, 
 Drinking,' card-playing, and wild as wild; 
 If Harry gets into their hands he'll be lost 
 Poor misguided boy 
 He should trust to his mother. 
 I wouldn't mind him marrying that genteel Miss 
 
 Burtonshaw 
 
 Who comes from London and is most refined; 
 She told me that a girl ought to follow her husband, 
 And though she worships the vicar she wouldn't take 
 
 Harry from chapel: 
 If I'd married a man like Mr Rowett I'd have followed 
 
 him anywhere. 
 
 65. NATHANIEL DODDS AND ELIZA DODDS 
 
 Why, Liz! you've caught me in my disabills, 
 I've not a deal to do but garden now, 
 Potatoes all look middling in their hills; 
 That frost last night it missed 'em altogether 
 And soon there'll be some new ones anyhow. 
 What brings you over here this time of day ? 
 What say ? 
 
 Looked in to see if I can stand this weather ? 
 And could I do 
 
 83
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 With a pat of butter and an egg or two ? 
 
 That's kind! 
 
 But when you married Bob my son I knew 
 
 I told him as I'd lay he'd never find 
 
 No better manager not anywhere, 
 
 Nor ever could I'll swear. 
 
 So sit down on that stump and rest ye do 
 
 And put your basket there: 
 
 That's it while I'm a-finishing this row; 
 
 That's better ... so! 
 
 Do I mind Jim, your oldest lad ? 
 That's a nice thing to ask me 
 Wasn't he here last Sunday week to tea ? 
 What's amiss with him then ? 
 I hope nowt bad ? 
 
 Always in mischief them young rascals be, 
 Either they're in a pond or up a tree. 
 Nothing wrong ? 
 I'm glad! 
 
 Getting a good stout fellow, is he, 
 And goes to farm-work regular nowadays ? 
 That's a fine lad! 
 
 You don't want him to grow up on the land, 
 But otherways ? 
 
 A-course you'll please yourself what he'll be doing, 
 But it's the best and healthiest life a-going, 
 And if men's treated decent I'll be bound 
 As you can't beat it, taking things all round. 
 What's that ? 
 The Parson wants him! 
 Oh ! does he ? 
 I see! 
 
 Gardener and groom 
 Hoe and broom 
 Dear me! 
 
 You think 'twill lead to something better some day, 
 
 8 4
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 'Coz he's a likely lad! 
 Why Liz the first one always is! 
 You feel as this would be the likeliest way: 
 Two decent suits of clothes a year 
 And drive the pony everywhere; 
 Two bob a day providing 
 It's no use hiding 
 
 He goes to Church on Sundays regular Eh ? 
 You think as this may be a lifetime's chance 
 And feared of me a-standing in his way. 
 A-course you'll think as me what built yon chapel 
 Will put it front of him 
 Your Jim! 
 No doubt you do; 
 He belongs to you; 
 
 But it's not the matter of one boy less at chapel : 
 There's evil deeds, there's wickedness, and worse; 
 There's a curse! 
 
 You ask why can't I let bygones be bygones ? 
 I will- 
 When them what did the wickedness and evil, 
 What profited by backing of the devil 
 Has cleansed theirselves, 
 Repented aye ! and made it good again 
 To the weak and the poor : 
 Then I'll forget but not before ! 
 Nobody couldn't what's been through Hell! 
 You know, my girl 
 
 'Tis better now, although you can remember 
 When you was married, many years ago, 
 When things was pretty low. 
 I know what living meant to you 
 With bairns and all the work to do, 
 The house to keep, the rent to pay, 
 On wages not two bob a day; 
 You and the children lived on ... what ? 
 On bread and water! 
 
 85
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 . . . It's gone, you say ? 
 No matter Eh ? 
 Things is better, a lot ? 
 Old Challands what paid our starving wage, 
 He died last year at a ripe old age, 
 And it was found 
 
 He'd raked together forty thousand pound; 
 All off the land- 
 Not by his own hand 
 That Church supporter, that parson's friend 
 (What blessed his end) 
 
 But by ours, what lived on the bread of shame. 
 Now . . . tell me, when yon Parson came 
 And found himself, how matters stood, 
 Did he sing out for Challands' blood ? 
 Did he stand up in church and say 
 As Hell would be his certain pay? 
 Or did he give the Agent a verse 
 For letting us live in pigstyes and worse ? 
 It wasn't his affair ? 
 It was! 
 
 He's paid for it, three hundred pounds a year; 
 He's paid, paid handsome for to help the poor, 
 What's at his door: 
 But did he ? 
 No fear ! 
 Never no backing for us, anywhere. 
 
 That's natural ? 
 A-course it be! 
 
 He hangs to his own does Parson and so must we. 
 I've had it all before, my dear, 
 In Norfolk in yon wicked Shire 
 When I was young 'twas ten times worse; 
 I never mind it without a curse. 
 But it got too bad at last to bear 
 And we tried to begin a Union there 
 
 86
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 To bind us together to help ourselves, 
 To help each other, one with another, 
 Not to be starved in styes and dens ; 
 Not bread and water, but proper food; 
 To live like human beings should. 
 
 It never was done! 
 
 We'd hardly begun 
 
 When up got the farmers all on fire 
 
 Afeard of wages jumping higher; 
 
 Up rose the squires red and sweating 
 
 For fear as we should soon be getting 
 
 Us wicked Radicals in bands 
 
 To seize the power from their hands; 
 
 Up got the Parsons savage and cold, 
 
 Afeard as we should be too bold. 
 
 They smashed us beaten to the ground, 
 
 Our breath all gone and never a sound; 
 
 They ran together and licked us well, 
 
 They kicked us savage where we fell; 
 
 Turned us adrift into the road 
 
 * Rebels must rea$ what they have sowed ' 
 
 Our parson said; 
 
 He's long since dead: 
 
 If any man's in Hell he's there, 
 
 Or, if he isn't, God ain't fair. 
 
 Too strong they was for us, them Three, 
 
 It was hardly play to them, you see. 
 
 We hadn't the money to roam afield 
 
 And look for work, so we had to yield. 
 
 W T e couldn't watch our children pine, 
 
 So our Union died and left no sign. 
 
 As that Parson said 
 
 What's long since dead, 
 
 And now in Hell, a burning well 
 
 We had to reap what we had sown; 
 
 'Twas the wrongest victory ever known, 
 
 87
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 And they'll have to reap what they have sown. 
 
 They'll pay for it yet if the Bible be true, 
 
 Squire and Farmer and Parson too : 
 
 For all must pay for the evil they do. 
 
 To help the poor the Church should be first; 
 
 Of them Three in their evil the Parsons was worst; 
 
 By our widows and orphans them Parsons was cursed, 
 
 Who says as Britons never shall be slaves 
 
 He meant the rich or else he only raves. 
 
 They stamped our Union to the ground them Three, 
 
 Them what I call the Devil's Trinity; 
 
 They marked for mischief all our men what led, 
 
 Their wives and children had to cry for bread ; 
 
 But I was single then and hard to beat; 
 
 I didn't mean to lick yon Parson's feet. 
 
 (He'd lick mine for a drop of water now, 
 
 But he wouldn't never get it anyhow) 
 
 I came to Fletton Village where men are free 
 
 Leastways they was to what I'd left, you see; 
 
 We had to fight a-course, on every hand 
 
 For long enough, to get a bit of land : 
 
 Just half a rood to build our chapel on, 
 
 But when the old Earl died them days was gone. 
 
 The young Earl didn't care and let us in 
 
 In spite of all old Parson's threatening. 
 
 We got the land and soon began to build, 
 
 A penny at a time, a brick at a time, 
 
 We managed it all as Providence willed : 
 
 So up she went till we got her done 
 
 And then our hymns of praise begun. 
 
 Old Parson clashed his teeth to hear it 
 
 We sung so loud he couldn't bear it. 
 
 This new chap's in his robe a-preaching 
 
 With crosses and altars and holy days 
 
 And bairns to follow the organ's screeching 
 
 88
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 As if the Almighty wanted such ways ! 
 
 We sing and pray, we all rejoice, 
 
 We shout with all our heart and voice: 
 
 We could in Church if we'd a mind ? 
 
 Ah! but, you'll find 
 
 As churches is only for them Three: 
 
 They're not the place for you and me, 
 
 But for them Three and for their kind, 
 
 For all what run and suck behind. 
 
 If we still went to Church to pray, 
 
 We should still be getting two bob a day, 
 
 Submitting ourselves to rank and age 
 
 And gratefully taking a starving wage, 
 
 Helped out with charity 
 
 Damn their charity! 
 
 We're not beggars, we're honest men. 
 
 But that's not their scheme, nor ever has been. 
 
 How does it go ? 
 
 You know, 
 
 ' God bless the Squire and his relations 
 
 And keep us in our proper stations.' 
 
 They think as we shall bolt that raw: 
 
 That's what their precious Church is for. 
 
 They're all for God, that God of theirs 
 
 Who smiles and listens to their prayers. 
 
 But there's a different One on high 
 
 W"ho hears the poor and needy cry, 
 
 Who comes to help them in distress 
 
 Because he loves the fatherless. 
 
 Our chapel God, He doesn't smile 
 
 Upon yon Three who fatten while 
 
 The poor man's children pine away: 
 
 He'll mind them at the Judgment Day. 
 
 But still you reckon bygones should be bygones 
 In spite of all I say! 
 Them things is long ago ? 
 
 89
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 I know 
 
 You'll please yourself when all be done 
 
 'Coz he's your son ; 
 
 But yet, that boy you're going to sell 
 
 What else, then, girl ? 
 
 Isn't Parson bidding for his soul 
 
 Same as Jack Key out buying a foal ? 
 
 Some clothes and food, two bob a day: 
 
 A goodish price and all, you say. 
 
 But yet this lad here, who can tell, 
 
 This favourite son you want to sell, 
 
 Might be the one we're waiting for 
 
 The one what's going to save the poor 
 
 To show us how to beat yon Three 
 
 And lead us on to victory. 
 
 There's plenty of slaves still round about, 
 
 Plenty of children going without. 
 
 Them Three be bold in other parts, 
 
 Mighty and strong, with savage hearts, 
 
 Where the labouring folk lay down in fear 
 
 Same as we did in yon wicked Shire: 
 
 Waiting for some one to come and lead them 
 
 Some one with faith and hope to feed them 
 
 Some one to lift them out of Hell : 
 
 It might be this lad you're going to sell. 
 
 Why not ? W T hy not ? 
 
 'Twill be some one's lot! 
 
 He has my blood in his veins, your son ; 
 
 Maybe he'll carry the good fight on 
 
 So as his name shall be never forgotten. 
 
 Yon wicked Three won't win alway 
 
 There'll come a day 
 
 We shall find they're rotten ! 
 
 So ... keep him at home; don't sell him now, 
 
 Let him stop on the land and follow the plough; 
 
 And when the Day of Reckoning comes 
 
 With its storm and lightning, its thunder and drums, 
 
 90
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 When yon Three has to reap what they have sown, 
 Your boy '11 be ready to fight for his own. 
 
 66. INSPECTOR DANIELS 
 
 It's twenty-one years since Mr Hanbury came to the 
 
 Old Bank 
 
 And me to the Police Station; 
 We moved in together on a pouring wet day as I well 
 
 remember. 
 
 I didn't expect to stop more than six months, 
 But although three Superintendents have given orders 
 
 for my transfer 
 
 The Agent got them squared as well he might; 
 For the Family would never get another like me : 
 They might have a Radical with no respect for rank. 
 I know what's what and keep all smooth, 
 In consequence of which I have done so well 
 That when I retire in three years' time I shall be better 
 
 off than any Superintendent, 
 And shall be able to rent a little farm. 
 The Agent's no fool ! 
 He hears what goes on and sees that good work is 
 
 acknowledged at the proper time: 
 When Minnie Harker looked like kicking up a fuss 
 
 over young Lord Fitz, 
 I dropped a word in season and she shut up like a 
 
 knife ; 
 
 I settled Doctor Berry's affair and Emmanuel Broom- 
 field's; 
 My eye is on the Belgian Socialist and that gallivanting 
 
 Switt, 
 Ana I've warned the Salvation Army fellow about 
 
 begging in the street. 
 
 (I don't know that he isn't up to something worse, 
 But I shall hear all about it this evening.) 
 
 91
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 If it hadn't been for me, Fletton would have been a 
 
 hot-bed of scandal, like Hordle; 
 
 As it is, there isn't a more respectable parish anywhere. 
 Sometimes the Family are careless : 
 Mr Coote will ride his cycle on the footpath and 
 
 doesn't stop when he sees me coming; 
 He ought to have sense to know there is always some 
 
 one behind a hedge or on a stack. 
 Things aren't what they were in Fletton; 
 Atkin and Moller Holmes and Makins are upsetting 
 
 everything; 
 
 They're not respectful and always ready to chunter, 
 So that I shall have to serve a summons on Mr Coote: 
 I daren't send my fool of a constable; 
 I'll take it round myself to-night and explain. 
 
 67. MRS TOMMY STOWER 
 
 I was terrified of this house at first, 
 
 But you soon get used to anything, 
 
 And Tom's a rare hand at managing; 
 
 It's lucky he is 
 
 Or we should be in a queer way with the terrible 
 
 expense of this place. 
 
 No wonder young Tharp couldn't keep it going! 
 He was such a nice lad with soft brown eyes, 
 Always dreaming and humming to himself; 
 He wasn't half as cut up as you'd have thought at 
 
 being turned out of the old home. 
 I asked him on the Sale-day and he said he was glad 
 
 to be clear of Fletton : 
 Of course that was put on 
 
 Then he said, * Fletton may alter it's tune some day ' 
 Whatever that meant. 
 I mended his waistcoat and would have done more for 
 
 him only father drove into the yard, 
 92
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 And he couldn't a'bear young Aaron. 
 
 You have to fuss father up all roads or life isn't worth 
 
 living. 
 
 I wish our house wasn't quite so handy for him; 
 He walks in with his muddy boots and takes up all 
 
 the fire 
 
 Till Tom can hardly keep from bursting out, 
 And I catch it when father's gone. 
 I know now why mother looked so miserable; 
 He used to play the fiddle to her and read her his 
 
 poetry : 
 I don't know which is worse. 
 
 68. ALEXANDER BARLEY 
 
 If you were a market-gardener in a place like this and 
 
 kept all sorts of poultry, 
 Geese, ducks, and turkeys, to say nothing of 
 
 bantams, 
 
 With a pride in your pedigree stock, 
 Taking prizes at flower-shows for miles around; 
 And if in spite of dogs and wire-netting and all possible 
 
 care 
 The vermin preserved by the Agent ravaged you like 
 
 they do me, 
 Creeping in at the smallest holes and biting the Ayles- 
 
 bury's heads off 
 
 Or snapping up the finest Orpingtons; 
 And if you were threatened with turning out of house 
 
 and home if you laid so much as the smallest trap, 
 To say nothing of shooting the brutes; 
 And if you couldn't get poison from Noah Creasey 
 
 without having to sign your name 
 What should you do ? 
 Herbert Dobney offers me compensation at market 
 
 rates. 
 
 7 i 
 
 93
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 As if that was any use : 
 
 My birds are worth three of ordinary sorts ; 
 
 Besides, I don't want compensation; 
 
 I want to rear and breed and win prizes. 
 
 What right have they to preserve foxes for sport when 
 
 there's a war on ? 
 
 Ain't my business as important as their fun? 
 To threaten me as they do ain't English; 
 But a man can be over-driven: 
 Dolph Swift, who isn't such a noodle as he looks, gave 
 
 me a tip : 
 I've got an air-gun coming from London, with a 
 
 folding barrel, to fire heavy bullets, 
 And the next of them poisonous beasts as creeps along 
 
 will get something to think about. 
 
 69. COBBLER GEORGE GOOSE 
 
 They say as cobblers is always Radicals: 
 
 I don't know why! 
 
 I've been to church for eight and forty years 
 
 And I'm no Radical, 
 
 Any more'n my wicked old Dad 
 
 What ought to have been in his grave long ago, 
 
 Or Saddler Jordan who works in leather, just the same 
 
 as me. 
 
 It's true my trade makes a man thoughtful; 
 I sit and work and think while folk drop in for a game 
 
 of draughts or a chat, 
 Or the latest about young Edgerley; 
 So that I hear all that goes on in Fletton. 
 Nothing happens but comes to my ears, 
 (Something's in the wind for to-night, but I haven't 
 
 heard the details yet.) 
 And when I walk home and see the lights in the 
 
 windows, 
 
 94
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 I often wonder if folks inside guess how much 1 know 
 
 about them. 
 (I've got my own idea why Japhet Ruston daren't 
 
 cross the Roan Bridge.) 
 
 Swift called yesterday with his narrow-toed patents; 
 (Just like a woman's) 
 
 Little he dreams what I've heard of his goings-on! 
 Old Dobney may step by with his nose in the air 
 But he lives on money borrowed from his son-in-law; 
 Dobney's missis wears her shoes down at the heels 
 
 quicker'n anybody: 
 
 Slipshod she is for all her fine feathers, 
 And that sort always come to grief sooner or later. 
 In the old Earl's time my old master made all the 
 
 gear for the Towers 
 Good honest stuff that never wore out 
 Now they want Yankee goods, 
 Which makes me feel the Family won't last: 
 It's a breaking up of the old ways. 
 I've given Parson a fair warning; 
 He came hinting that I didn't fit him properly, 
 And I told him straight I should join the Methodists. 
 
 70. SAMUEL WADDY 
 
 I was getting on nice and quiet, 
 
 Well in with the Agent and nothing to bother me, 
 
 Because every one knows I've no connection with 
 
 Uncle Jonathan 
 
 Who's touched in the head and not responsible, 
 When who should drop out of the clouds but Cousin 
 
 David's boy, Oliver, to upset everything. 
 He's gone on shameful all over the place, 
 Knocking Challands through the Golden Cross win- 
 dow when they had words: 
 Everybody knows Challands is over fauce, 
 
 95 H
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 But he was such a big ugly chap that nobody stood 
 
 up to him: 
 
 Fancy him being a pulk! 
 
 If Oliver'd stopped at that it wouldn't have mattered, 
 But he carries on with all the girls and most of the 
 
 women, 
 
 Insults the Family, blackguards the Agent, and out- 
 faces Inspector Daniels, 
 Bringing shame on the name of Waddy. 
 The worst of it is he will come to the Toft; 
 If it wasn't for that I could disown him; 
 Only he's got round Marion and what I say goes for 
 
 nothing. 
 
 She's like all the Bowleses, headstrong and masterful, 
 And I've come to the end of my patience. 
 He was sitting last night by the kitchen fire with one 
 
 of my cigars stuck in his mouth, 
 And that low-lived Atkins t'other side, 
 Plotting how to raise my labourers' wages. 
 I can't stand it any longer, 
 And as sure as my name's Waddy I shall speak to him 
 
 to-morrow : 
 Marion can do her worst, but I shall tell him what I 
 
 think 
 Unless he's very careful. 
 
 71. FRED OVERTON 
 
 Moller Holmes and that lot are full of talk about their 
 Union raising wages; 
 
 They asked me to join, and said I should be Chair- 
 man, 
 
 But I can earn all I want in less time than any of them 
 
 By taking on jobs at piece-work and getting a gang 
 together, 
 
 Lifting a field of potatoes or cleaning out dykes. 
 
 96
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Tom Bavin and me did the river last summer from 
 
 Fletton Bridge to Frogs Island, 
 And I got a nest egg of eighty-six quid put by for 
 
 the winter. 
 
 What call have I to join Moller Holmes's Union ? 
 Them fellows haven't sense to come in when it rains; 
 I should look well telling them all I've learned, 
 'Coz if they knew as much as me I shouldn't get any 
 
 plums. 
 The Agent's promised me the first offer of the Estate 
 
 drainage, 
 And if all goes well I ought to clear nigh a hundred 
 
 profit, 
 
 After which I'm for a small holding. 
 My Emmie's a rare hand at poultry and the two boys 
 
 is ready to help ; 
 
 I shall go ahead like Brother John ; 
 Only I shan't fool my cash away as he's done on show; 
 Nor make an ass of myself like Bill, 
 Who hadn't the sense to be carefuller. 
 A bit of land is what I want : 
 As I told Jesse Munks when he asked me to promise 
 
 my vote for Cutts 
 Saying as the Labour Party would take Fletton from 
 
 the Earl 
 And cut it up into small holdings under the County 
 
 Council 
 
 I don't want no Council Holding. 
 Look at Hiram Jorkins, Smith Rook and Rufus 
 
 Oldfield with a Committee over them 
 Who've neither guts nor grace, and make no allowance 
 
 in a bad year. 
 If Bob Cutts promised me forty acres for my own he'd 
 
 be talking, 
 And not a soul in Fletton wouldn't vote for him on 
 
 that lay. 
 
 97
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 72. JOSIAH SWINTON 
 
 I can't cut the big Chestnut down because the Agent 
 
 won't let me, 
 
 Spite of all my powerful arguments, 
 And lightning never comes a'nigh it. 
 It's the curse of my life: 
 Never a week passes but some fool looks in at the 
 
 forge and asks if I'm the one the poem was writ 
 
 about. 
 Mr Coote mooned in this morning and began to recite 
 
 it 
 
 After calling me his worthy smith 
 Before he got far I managed a few sparks in his direc- 
 tion 
 
 And he hurried off without starting the second verse: 
 The next man that mentions ' Under a spreading 
 
 chestnut tree ' is going to get a red-hot horseshoe 
 
 agen his nose. 
 
 73. WALLACE RUSTON 
 
 There's nothing like variety 
 
 Them as sticks to one pub is as dull as them what only 
 
 sleeps with one woman. 
 We've got four full-licences in Fletton, to say nothing 
 
 of the off-houses : 
 All of which have their points : 
 
 The company's different at each, and so's the liquor; 
 You get old-fashioned ale at the Mill Inn where the 
 
 wagoners pull up, 
 
 The Golden Cross is high-class and takes in travellers, 
 The Ship has the best spirits and the warmest farmers, 
 While the Coach and Horses is all for the new-fangled 
 
 notions : 
 
 9 8
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Being kept by my Uncle Japhet I never go near. 
 
 I like the little places most 
 
 Joe Barks, Jeff Sharpies, Dave Coulson, Fred Makins, 
 
 Seth Jordan, Smith Rook, and Jim Toulson 
 The landlords ain't so stuck up and they're a deal 
 
 cosier. 
 Many a pleasant hour have I spent in their low-roofed 
 
 parlours, 
 
 Playing dominoes or darts or seven-card nap. 
 When you think you couldn't carry another drop 
 A walk in the fresh air brings you round again. 
 They're all glad to see me because I take news from 
 
 one to the other ; 
 When Hare Petchell cut his throat I was the first in 
 
 every bar but one, 
 
 And got more free drinks than ever before or since; 
 Poor Enoch Winterbourne was with me: 
 He'd the beautifullest voice for a song you ever 
 
 heard, 
 
 And never had call to pay for any liquor 
 (Any more'n young Tharp 
 Who used to make me cry with his fiddle). 
 Unfortunately the Methodists got Enoch, and now 
 
 he's ruined; 
 He walks the streets on Sunday as melancholy as that 
 
 dead fish Luke Fletcher, 
 Singing hymns through his nose. 
 The only thing I have to be careful of when I'm 
 
 moving about is not to run into the Missis; 
 That's the best of the winter, the nights is dark. 
 
 7 3 A. WALLACE RUSTON (conf.) 
 
 Song often sung by Mr Ruston (Authorship 
 unknown). The last line of each verse is given by 
 the company in a mysterious whisper. 
 
 99
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 As day is done and night draws on 
 We gather near the fire, 
 What's rounded up with turfy peat 
 And keeps a-blazing higher; 
 And as we sit and warm our feet 
 The wind roars down the chimney. 
 
 It's been a freezing hard all day 
 
 With gusts of rain and hail, 
 
 And now the snow is whizzling down, 
 
 The window's turning pale; 
 
 Old Mother Goose has shook her gown 
 
 The wind roars down the chimney. 
 
 The firelight is red and free, 
 The kitchen's snug and warm, 
 We're resting here contentedly 
 And wish nobody harm : 
 God help poor sailors out at sea! 
 The wind roars down the chimney. 
 
 The winter threatens to be hard 
 
 'Coz berries all is red, 
 
 And every morning in the yard 
 
 A-waiting to be fed 
 
 Comes robins, and the other birds 
 
 The wind roars down the chimney. 
 
 The rabbits and the hares about 
 
 Get bolder every day, 
 
 There ain't a deal of food to share 
 
 Among the lot, I lay; 
 
 Our orchard trees is gnawed quite bare: 
 
 The wind roars down the chimney. 
 
 100
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 The fields is raked and scoured clear, 
 
 The harvest's finished now, 
 
 Our yard is nearly full of stacks, 
 
 So you must all allow 
 
 As we've a right to gather here : 
 
 The wind roars down the chimney. 
 
 The eighty stone of pork we've killed 
 
 Should stand us for a time, 
 
 Our ceiling-baulks is almost filled 
 
 With bacon fat and prime; 
 
 And all the winter wheat is drilled : 
 
 The wind roars down the chimney. 
 
 There's lard in bladders, and a clump 
 Of Christmas puddings round and plump, 
 Whilst best of all the home-made beer 
 Comes from the barrel, bright and clear; 
 We are the boys for right good cheer : 
 The wind roars down the chimney. 
 
 So light your pipe and fill your glass 
 And settle down again ; 
 The night full pleasantly will pass 
 In spite of snow or rain ; 
 Forget your troubles one and all, 
 Forget your grief and pain : 
 We're happy now, no matter how 
 The wind roars down the chimney. 
 
 74. BANNISTER HIDES 
 
 If the Earl wasn't a doddering old fool, 
 Or if that ass of an Agent had an ounce of brain, 
 I could strike a bargain to farm the whole Estate: 
 Nine thousand acres of the best land in the county: 
 
 101
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 That would be something like. 
 
 I told that ' Hee-Haw ' Agent I would either pay 
 
 the present rental and a third of my net 
 
 profits 
 Or take it all over on a twenty years' lease at double 
 
 the present rental ; 
 You'd have thought by the way he looked at me 
 
 through his eyeglass, I was offering money for 
 
 his Missis. 
 
 It would have been a great scheme 
 And I'm the man to carry it out. 
 I'd have scrapped all these rotten little barns and sheds 
 And run the whole affair from the Estate Office by 
 
 telephone. 
 With Fred Overton as Labour Manager, his brother 
 
 John as Field-Foreman, Enderby am6ngst the 
 
 implements, and Tommy Stower at market, 
 
 buying and selling: 
 We could have cleared ten pounds an acre profit every 
 
 year, 
 And shown the great Mullens that they don't know 
 
 everything. 
 Just fancy all that being missed because an old idiot 
 
 can't give up his grandfather's ways: 
 I would make him a millionaire if he'd let me; 
 W T e should improve the value of the Estate by our 
 
 better farming, 
 
 To say nothing of the increased rental. 
 He's short enough of cash anyhow : 
 His missis spends it by bucketsful, they say; 
 While the nation's the poorer because of that gang of 
 
 boozers that call themselves Tenantry, 
 Like the Danes, the Todds, Old Woods, and that fool 
 
 Pinion, 
 Who've got their farms for seven hundred to a thousand 
 
 a year less than they're worth in the open 
 
 market, 
 
 102
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 And only just make ends meet at that 
 
 (Except Anthony Dane who's saved by his pedigree 
 
 stock). 
 
 Old-fashioned ways are good enough for them 
 With three sacks of wheat and three tons of potatoes 
 
 to the acre 
 Down Fletton Fen where the soil is six feet thick and 
 
 so rich you might eat it; 
 Oh! it makes me wild 
 Specially when there's a War on and all the food is 
 
 wanted 
 
 To see those pets of the Agent lolling at the public- 
 house bars 
 Or driving to Ely four days a week to kill 
 
 time; 
 They couldn't stand against me ten minutes if there 
 
 was a fair field. 
 If the Radicals would rid us of landlords I'd move 
 
 heaven and earth to get Bennington in, 
 But Lord Blinkhorn of Bly was a Rad, 
 And now he's worse than our Earl about the 
 
 ^game; 
 While these Labour fellows talk just as soft the other 
 
 way round. 
 
 Nobody seems to have any sense over Land. 
 The poor Missis used to have an idea that if I could 
 
 get somebody to talk to the Countess 
 And let it be known to her that she might have another 
 
 ten thousand a year from Fletton, 
 I should get what I want: 
 It might be so! 
 
 She was a knowing woman, was Bertha 
 Like all the Hemsleys 
 It was her that first thought of marrying our lad to 
 
 Smithson's daughter. 
 I've sounded him several times lately 
 And though he's very fly 
 
 103
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 And holds off 
 I reckon I've landed him at last: 
 
 There won't be such a family as the Hideses anywhere 
 about. 
 
 75. BESSIE KEY 
 
 Mother can say what she likes, 
 
 But I've got my own ideas and mean to carry them out : 
 
 The Hemsleys may be Chapel 
 
 But once we're married one of them is going to be 
 
 Church 
 
 (If Aunt Hepzibah did it, I can). 
 I shall have the Little Manor drawing-room completely 
 
 refurnished 
 
 And his mother can take her mahogany away. 
 When I am ready to begin my At Homes 
 I shall cut out all the Fletton tradespeople 
 The Woolertons and Fletchers 
 And in time I may get Harry to dress for dinner like 
 
 the Edgerleys. 
 
 (I do like that woman's style, 
 But she's too stuck up for anything.) 
 Aunt Dobney's a cat! 
 She tried to get Harry away from me for her daughter 
 
 Lizzie, 
 Who looks like a bag of beans tied loose in the 
 
 middle. 
 If I'm very select Mrs Lome will approve when she 
 
 calls, 
 
 And sooner or later will take me to one of the Com- 
 mittee-teas at the Dower House. 
 I was introduced to the Vicar's sister Mrs Honey- 
 
 comb-Catt yesterday, 
 Won't Annie Hicks and Maud Overton and Vi 
 
 Challands be jealous! 
 104
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 76. LUKE FLETCHER 
 
 The news is so disquieting that I must get hold of 
 
 Mr Bennington; 
 If that fellow Cutts is standing for Labour it will be 
 
 very awkward; 
 
 We were almost certain of winning otherwise, 
 And the Tories would have had a sad shock 
 After holding the seat for nearly forty years. 
 The War improved our chances immensely 
 By knocking that silly Land Campaign on the head. 
 I've neglected my business this last twelve months, 
 Addressing meetings or holding the chair for Mr B. 
 It's true that most of my customers come in the 
 
 evening, 
 
 But all the same I've worked very hard for the Cause. 
 If Mr B. doesn't get in I shall never be a J.P. 
 (Like Solomon Dane) 
 Because the Family have their knife in me, 
 And so long as they're in power will never give way. 
 It's the dream of my life to sit on the Bench : 
 One day who knows I might rise to be Chairman, 
 Giving decisions in an authoritative voice after whis- 
 pered bendings to right and left, 
 Where respectful supporters flank you : 
 A great position in the County. 
 
 77. MARY WILDERS 
 
 When I'm running over the Voluntary that Aaron 
 Tharp wrote for the organ and gave me, 
 
 On condition I played Bach instead of Mendelssohn, 
 
 Much against my will 
 
 Bach's all dry twiddley runs and no music except some- 
 times in the very last chord, 
 105
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Whilst Mendelssohn is pure melody and had such a 
 
 sweet face 
 
 As I was saying, when I'm running over his Prelude 
 I shut my eyes and float away into the clouds: 
 Heaven must be like that only more so and no 
 
 coming back with a jerk. 
 Fletton is very dull, 
 
 And I've passed my thirty-seventh birthday. 
 If only Tom Bowles hadn't been a born idiot all would 
 
 have been well; 
 I should have made him a far better wife than that 
 
 woman 
 
 Who is old enough to be his mother 
 And barren, of course : 
 Fancy holding that in your arms in the morning 
 
 light! 
 
 I lay he never enjoys his breakfast. 
 I shouldn't have dragged him from Chapel and broken 
 
 up the family, 
 
 And he wouldn't have looked miserable at heart 
 Like he does when he goes past our shop : 
 If he wasn't such a pulk he would clear right off 
 
 now, 
 
 And take me with him. 
 If he doesn't I shall have to look round: 
 There's several widowers in the village 
 And I always liked Jackson Challands, 
 To say nothing of Nevil Dane and Arthur Mogg. 
 
 78. ABEL SNEATH 
 
 What a fool I was to be over-persuaded, 
 
 But they cawed like a thousand rooks till I was 
 
 deafened 
 And gave up the old farm to Bannister Hides : 
 
 It's true I couldn't pretend to keep the house up, 
 
 1 06
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 But who could, after Charles Pinion, 
 
 Who lived like a second Earl ? 
 
 It's all very well for Martha to talk about the cash in 
 
 hand : 
 
 What's cash if you can't turn it into stock ? 
 Besides which when I'd paid everybody and took this 
 
 shop there was precious little left. 
 Hides will drive me scranny before he's done; 
 He's turning everything upside down and goes on like 
 
 a madman ; 
 
 You can overdo this craze for machinery, / say, 
 And some day he'll come a cropper: 
 I may not live to see it, but others will. 
 He's done away with horses, of course, 
 And he'll soon have no labourers either, 
 But only machines worked by pressing buttons in the 
 
 Manor. 
 
 The few men he has now are engineers from Bly 
 Who never stop to pass the time of day. 
 I expect that dratted aeroplane belongs to him. 
 There's only one job they can't do by steam thank 
 
 God! ' 
 
 That's tending the live stock. 
 I was chatting with Obadiah Hodgson yesterday as he 
 
 was mending the road, 
 (A good man, Obadiah), 
 When I saw Shep Dawson trying to get a foundered 
 
 ewe out of that cross drain 
 It always was boggy 
 
 So I slipped my coat off and was helping him out 
 When who should come across the meadow but Hides 
 
 in a Yankee car: 
 
 He gave me a nod as if he wanted to be friendly, 
 But I couldn't talk to a man that drives motors across 
 
 his farm. 
 
 107
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 79. CURTIS FULLERTON 
 
 I crept out at half-past four to catch those damned 
 
 rabbits 
 
 But only got one little runt the size of a mouse, 
 While all the rest bolted back into Long Wood, 
 Their bellies full of my corn, blast 'em ! 
 Just because I have a farm that isn't on the Estate, 
 Which runs up three sides of me with Long and 
 
 Round Woods, 
 
 I suffer worse than I can tell with the game, 
 But receive no compensation as the tenants do. 
 Look at young Todd across the way, 
 Only paying sixteen shillings rent for exactly the same 
 
 sort of land as mine, 
 That cost me forty-two and sixpence. 
 What's worse, you're rated on your rental, 
 So that I pay three times more rates than Todd. 
 There's something very wrong about that: 
 But they all hang together over the Land Question, 
 And a fellow like me hasn't a chance. 
 What I complain of is their keeping it in such a close 
 
 ring- 
 When old Watson died I bid the Agent for his farm, 
 Offering two pounds an acre grass and arable 
 He looked down his nose and said it was promised to 
 
 the son of an old tenant, 
 Which was a lie, because George Todd didn't know a 
 
 word about it till a week later, 
 When it was given to him at sixteen shillings : 
 A present of nearly seven hundred a year for being the 
 
 son of an old tenant. 
 I was just as ready to vote straight and touch my cap 
 
 to the Family 
 Or keep down poachers and Labour Unions as George 
 
 Todd; 
 
 1 08
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 But I'm a Baptist! 
 
 Meantime the game's ruining me: 
 
 The Woods swarm with birds, rabbits, and keepers 
 
 To say nothing of wood-pigeons 
 
 And when I went to Lawyer Ferrett about the rabbits, 
 
 All the comfort I got was that whilst they're on my 
 
 land they're mine if I detains 'em. 
 That'a fat lot of good ! 
 You wouldn't think there was a War on, 
 Or the Government was clamouring for us farmers to 
 
 save the country, 
 
 When for walking across my new-drilled peas 
 And finding pheasants as thick as crows 
 And losing my temper and shooting one 
 I was fined five pounds at Quarter-Sessions. 
 
 80. VIOLET CHALLANDS 
 
 If it wasn't that I might have been like Jane Smithson 
 
 I could sometimes wish I'd never been to Eastbourne 
 
 Because everything seems so common now; 
 
 Dad will eat with his knife like any labourer ; 
 
 Indeed there's nothing to tell him from one 
 
 Except his bullying ways. 
 
 Nobody has outfaced him since mother died, 
 
 And when that handsome Oliver Waddy gave him a 
 
 black eye 
 
 And a lump- as big as a pigeon's egg, 
 He was as quiet as a mouse for nearly two days. 
 Arthur Mogg thinks I've been so well educated that I 
 
 look down on him 
 And makes the silliest excuses to rush off when I stop 
 
 him in the road: 
 
 I keep hoping Bannister Hides will make him jealous. 
 Dad wants me to marry old Woods, 
 But he's after Miss Burtonshaw, 
 
 109
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 The stuck-up, putty-faced thing 
 
 Who screams at the sight of a dead rat. 
 
 When I first came home I gave Mr Rowett the glad 
 
 eye 
 
 And he's followed me about ever since; 
 I know he means to kiss me, 
 And when he tries I shall give him such a slap. 
 If I could get Dad to have the front garden kept 
 
 decent 
 
 The house wouldn't look so awful; 
 But he swears so when I ask him for a man from the 
 
 farm: 
 
 He could easy spare Robb Dodds who's only a cripple. 
 I'm off now to take a lesson in driving our new car; 
 The man that's brought it from Ely is stopping a few 
 
 days, 
 
 And he's quite nice when he washes his hands. 
 (I shall go shopping in Ely every day!) 
 P'raps we shall meet Lord Fitz: 
 I know he wants to speak. 
 
 8 1. ANN CUTTS 
 
 If that nurse comes poking round Paradise Row again 
 
 She'll get something she doesn't fancy. 
 
 There's nothing the matter with me, 
 
 And I told her to mind her own business; 
 
 Just fancy her wanting me to let her have some of my 
 blood in a bottle! 
 
 I'd a scare yesterday when I thought I'd lost grand- 
 mother's ring 
 
 What hangs round my neck on a bootlace; 
 
 The knot must have come undone; 
 
 But I found it under the dresser in the milk-jug: 
 
 It's all I've got to show who we are 
 
 (Brother Bob always tried to get it from me). 
 
 no
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 I was christened Angelica Cutts but Granddad's name 
 was Coote, 
 
 His father being the Earl as was then 
 
 And I ought to have a farm of my own to leave to my 
 Joe. 
 
 If it comes to that, his own father ought to do some- 
 thing for him, 
 
 Only I don't rightly know if it was Broomfield or 
 Rowett. 
 
 He's doing well in the Agent's office 
 
 And might rise to anything 
 
 He's that clever 
 
 Look at all the news he sends to the Chronicle every week, 
 
 Written out of his own head : 
 
 He has his Uncle Sam's brains as well as his own. 
 
 I ought to have a pension from the Estate: 
 
 Fifteen shillings a week would be very nice, 
 
 Seeing I'm not so good-looking as I was ten years ago 
 
 And can't earn money in so many ways. 
 
 For all that I could have Parson off his perch any 
 time he calls, 
 
 Only I daren't risk losing my Xmas coal and blankets: 
 
 His Missis has her long nose everywhere and hears 
 too much, 
 
 And Harriett Holmes is always watching. 
 
 But a pension is my right: 
 
 I set to work once to get it 
 
 When Daniels came and bullied me so 
 
 The loud-voiced brute 
 
 That I've never tried since. 
 
 82. WALTER JACKSON 
 
 If somebody doesn't take that old witch by the scruff 
 of her neck and strangle her 
 
 I shall have to ask to te put on another job 
 
 in i
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 And give up the gamekeeping altogether. 
 
 Just because I made a few innocent inquiries about a 
 
 hare 
 Said to be hanging in her larder at the wrong time of 
 
 year, 
 
 She gave me one of her nasty looks. 
 ' Don't step in my shadow,' she says, in her horrible 
 
 voice 
 
 4 Or you might see things you don't care about,' 
 And ever since that day I've been queer. 
 It's no joke for a man as does night work in these 
 
 woods if he loses his nerve; 
 You never know what may be about; 
 And if you begin to fancy things are leaning out of 
 
 the branches to snatch, 
 
 Or lying under bushes to grab you by the ankle, 
 Or if you wake up in your cottage all of a lather from 
 
 horrible dreams, 
 You'd be scared! 
 
 That damned old hag squints at me out of her eye- 
 corners as she sits in her doorway pretending to 
 
 knit 
 
 Till I shall do something desperate to her. 
 I went to Doctor Berry, but he's a fool; 
 He said all I wanted was a dose of jalop and less gin: 
 When you're bothered in your mind little things work 
 
 on you as you wouldn't notice other times. 
 That sneaking Fullerton's at his tricks again; 
 The Baptists ducked him last Sunday, and I wish 
 
 they'd kept him under; 
 He lays a trail of maize from our hedge right out into 
 
 his meadow 
 
 To get my birds away from the Wood. 
 He's took a game-licence for himself and his lurching 
 
 boy, 
 
 While all his labourers have gun-licences 
 They're nothing but a gang of poachers from Hordle, 
 
 112
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 But I can't touch 'em unless they cross our hedge; 
 While these two plough-boys from Pantacks that call 
 
 themselves under-keepers 
 Are about as much use as my two boots. 
 Then there's George Barks and Cousin Peg-Leg, and 
 
 Alec Barley always cawing about his mangy 
 
 pullets: 
 
 He lives on the compensation we pay him, 
 Yet he ain't satisfied: 
 I know he lays poison for the foxes but I can't prove 
 
 it yet 
 
 Though we've inquired of every chemist in Ely. 
 (Noah Creasey would like to, but daren't.) 
 He gave me a saucy look in the barber's last Saturday 
 As if he's something up his sleeve: 
 He'd better be careful; 
 We always nab them chaps at the finish. 
 
 83. BETTY WILLIAMSON 
 
 Mogg comes past my door every Sunday morning 
 
 Singing hymns about forgiving your enemies, 
 
 But I'm all for paying 'em out first 
 
 And let them have a chance to forgive you. 
 
 I'll larn 'em to say things agen me! 
 
 When anybody treads on my toes I feel as spiteful as 
 
 a cat. 
 If folks thinks you can do things to 'em it's just the 
 
 same as if you could. 
 After Parson preached about me 
 Nine years ago come the twenty-third of the month 
 On account of Jos Swinton losing his eye from a spark 
 
 after we'd had words 
 And I'd told him to ' mind his eye ' 
 I let it be known as he'd get paid for it sooner or later : 
 And he's never had a child to his name. 
 
 "3
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 There's many think Japhet Ruston daren't cross the 
 
 Bridge because I've laid a spell on him. 
 Mind you I've a lot of ghostly power from my mother 
 
 Black Bess 
 
 I can cure headaches and other pains like she could, 
 Although it tires you out, 
 The power running from your fingers. 
 Any fool can charm warts 
 
 Or put a spell on boys to make 'em fall in love, 
 And farmers come for something to keep swine-fever 
 
 or strangles away; 
 But the real business is letting folk think you can do 
 
 whatever you want. 
 
 Many's the present left at my back doorstep, 
 And I can scratch a better living in my old age than 
 
 either of my daughters 
 Who take after their fathers 
 
 By sitting at the front door with a stocking on my knee 
 And one eye on the street. 
 
 84. JEFF SHARPLES 
 
 There used to be worse lives than a carrier's 
 
 When you'd plenty of passengers and parcels to Bly 
 
 market ; 
 So long as your horses didn't begin to cough or start 
 
 splints 
 Or get stones in their feet or fall down and break their 
 
 knees 
 Or your wagon-wheels didn't come loose or get 
 
 wrenched off in the ruts 
 Or market-merry farmers didn't smash into you when 
 
 they galloped past with loose reins 
 Or the fog didn't come so thick across Hordle Waste 
 
 that you had to walk at the horses' heads, 
 
 And there was no competition. 
 
 114
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 But things aren't what they was: 
 
 Them motors have spoilt everything. 
 
 Tommy Stower's standing for the County Council next 
 
 year 
 And always takes half a dozen farmers or their wives 
 
 to market; 
 
 The police ought to stop him; 
 But Daniels hangs to them as has money. 
 Folks complain that I don't pull out for 'em, he says: 
 Mebbe they think I'm going to drive home from Bly 
 
 on the slope of the road. 
 With one wheel in the ditch, 
 
 So as they can do the eight miles in twelve minutes. 
 Morton Enderby tells me Stower's going to have seats 
 
 fitted on his new motor-lorry 
 And run to Bly every Tuesday and Saturday: 
 I shall draw up on the Old Bridge to wait for him 
 And keep slap in front all the way. 
 If I could get a little place like Hiram Jorkins 
 I'd let somebody else have my van; 
 Anybody could cut Thomson out 
 Even my fool of a brother. 
 
 Liz says she hears he's minded to give the Mill up. 
 I must remember to get her medicine at the drug store ; 
 She hasn't been well the last fortnight 
 Ever since she called at her Dad's cottage and caught 
 
 that Salvation Army chap in bed with her sister 
 
 Laura 
 I'll wring his bloody neck if I catch him. 
 
 85. BLIND JOHNNY 
 
 (This poem was sent anonymously to the Bly 
 Chronicle and published there. It seems certain that 
 it must have been written in Fletton and has been 
 attributed both to Aaron Tharp and Guy Cullen.) 
 
 "5
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 He stepped inside the barber's shop 
 With hardly strength to go, 
 And painfully across the floor 
 Went creeping, weak and slow. 
 
 * Do try an orange, Mester, 
 They're good and cheap to-day; 
 I've selled no end this morning; 
 You'll find 'em nice, I lay.' 
 
 His failing arms no more could stay 
 The basket worn and old; 
 It fell, and swiftly rolled away, 
 A cataract of gold. 
 
 ' I'm growing old, 'tis true, my boy, 
 It bothers me to talk, 
 But I won't have no Workhouse 
 As long as I can walk. 
 
 I've done my share of honest work 
 For three-score year and ten, 
 And now I'm not a-going to shirk 
 While I can keep my sen. 
 
 It's fifty year or mebbe more 
 Since first I came around 
 To sing the carols at each door 
 With merry Christmas sound. 
 
 There's nobody could do as well 
 
 At carol-singing then : 
 
 Bill Bones, Bob Pratt, young Georgy Bell, 
 
 Tom Burrows and mysen. 
 
 For I could sing in tune, my boy, 
 And keep as true as owt; 
 
 116
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 While Georgy Bell did near as well : 
 We never missed a note! 
 
 But now of all what used to sing 
 There's no one left but me, 
 And I'm not fit for anything; 
 I'm growing old, you see! ' 
 
 They took him to the workhouse 
 
 He feared as much as hell, 
 
 But p'raps in dreams he goes again 
 
 His oranges to sell, 
 
 Or p'raps to roam a-carolling 
 
 The tunes he loved so well 
 
 With Burrows, Pratt, and Billy Bones, 
 
 And poor old Georgy Bell. 
 
 86. TOM BAVIN AND LEAH WILLIAMSON 
 
 Tom ! Tom 1 What d'you think ? 
 
 I've had the Parson's wife 
 
 The first time in her life across our door! 
 
 What for ? 
 
 Why, Tom, you'd never guess, 
 
 Not if you lived as old as Grammer Bess, 
 
 Who mother swore 
 
 Was a hundred and four : 
 
 She wants us two to go off and get spliced. 
 
 Oh, Christ ! The cow ! 
 
 You well may swear 
 At why she dare, and how. 
 
 117
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Just light your pipe it's there 
 Now you look comfortable so 
 You're rough, old Tom, I know, 
 And black as a crow, 
 But I'm fond of you, lad, 
 And whether I'm good or bad 
 You've been main good to me. 
 
 But blast her silly eyes ! 
 What did you say to her then ? 
 
 I said a lot! 
 I told her whatl 
 
 A-coming here with her fancy airs, 
 Her what has never known no cares, 
 Looking that wise 
 Just 'coz she catched a Parson 
 (Her brother ran away to sea 
 And took to blue-water 
 With their old cook's daughter) : 
 You talk of Sin and Shame, I says, to me! 
 You talk like a fool or a bairn at school 
 'Coz nobody about 
 Could ever doubt 
 
 But what we're happy together, him and me. 
 Just look, I says, at any in this street, 
 What couple can you find about to beat 
 My Tom and me what's been together years- 
 Happy and comfortable 
 Never no serious trouble 
 Nothing, I mean, to set us by the ears: 
 Good reason why 
 I says, says I, 
 
 'Coz we're a free and equal pair; 
 We've got to treat each other fair 
 Or else we part. 
 
 ITS
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Well said now Missis ; that were smart. 
 
 ' Part,' she says, a-looking down her nose, 
 
 * How could you leave this home with children here ? ' 
 
 I says, says I, that doesn't bother me, 
 
 'Coz I can earn enough for food and clothes, 
 
 I can maintain 'em by myself, says I ; 
 
 I'd manage somehow if I had to do, 
 
 I'm not a slave to any man like you. 
 
 Ton didn't. Come ! 
 
 I meant it too. 
 
 If your man turns up stunt, says I, 
 You can't go off and let him fly, 
 You can't maintain yourself not you; 
 You don't know how to bake or wash; 
 If your man drinks or starts to thrash 
 
 You couldn't leave him, 'coz he holds you, 
 You're tied by law and friends what scolds you, 
 You ain't like me; 
 I'm free as air, 
 I'm not afraid, whoever stare. 
 
 Tou gave her the rough of your tongue ', old girl ; 
 But what a sell ! 
 
 Coming here to ride rough-shod 
 
 'Coz she's a * wife,' 
 
 Why bless my life 
 
 She doesn't rightly know she's born; 
 
 She couldn't scratch for her own corn; 
 
 I sent her off with a flea in her ear, 
 
 And will again if she dare come near; 
 
 But she won't in a hurry, the white-faced critter, 
 
 With a nose like a knife and a smile that bitter 
 
 As if she would kill. 
 
 IIQ
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Setting up for a wife! 
 
 What does she know about life ? 
 
 Nowt nor ever will. 
 
 To-morrow's Sunday and we'll go to Church- 
 
 What ? 
 
 Just for once together 
 
 Like birds of a feather. 
 
 We ain't ashamed to show our faces 
 
 To them what thinks we be disgraces; 
 
 We'll go together, Tom, for sure, 
 
 We'll go this once and then no more, 
 
 If you be willing 
 
 Ay, lass Tm willing 
 /'// back you up as I've always done 
 Against Parson's wife or any one ; 
 Ay ! against all the country round ; 
 'Coz you're as good as could be found. 
 And noW' old girl it's almost eighty 
 Come on you know we mustn't be late; 
 Off to the Ship for our glass of ale ; 
 This yarn of yours' II make a fine tale. 
 What's that ? your bonnet ? 
 All right be quick 
 /'// wait for you against the gate. 
 
 87. BANNISTER HIDES, JUNIOR 
 
 I always did enjoy the Feast, 
 
 And now I'm eighteen and do a man's work Dad can't 
 
 expect to keep me in : 
 I'm meeting Vi Challands at six; 
 She says we live like pigs 'coz we have meals in the 
 
 kitchen with the servants,
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 But it's the handiest place. 
 
 She's stuck-up since she went to Eastbourne 
 
 And reckons we ought to use the Manor properly 
 
 Instead of chitting potatoes in the best rooms, 
 
 But you must chit potatoes somewhere, 
 
 And Dad and me would lose each other in them big 
 
 chambers. 
 
 We've got apples and pears in the attics 
 And machinery stores fill about ten bedrooms. 
 Vi thinks if she marries me we shall live here when 
 
 Dad's gone 
 With a score of servants and a regiment of gardeners 
 
 and grooms: 
 I say nothing because I'm scared she'll take Arthur 
 
 Mogg, who's always after her ; 
 But we'll see. 
 I do love the Feast with its lights and three or four 
 
 lots of music going in your ear 
 And all the folks from as far as Hordle with their 
 
 families and dogs; 
 And the Circus and Pictures and cocoanut-shies and 
 
 steam-roundabouts and peep-shows and boxing- 
 booths and sweet-stalls; 
 
 Serving men and wagoners in their best clothes 
 And girls that tickle you with feathers and squirt water 
 
 down your neck. 
 Not a house in Fletton but hasn't company in Feast 
 
 week; 
 Some of them sit dowri twenty strong for pork-pie 
 
 teas. 
 
 I won eight shillings last night at the shooting-gallery 
 And spent it (and more) on Vi inside five minutes : 
 She's got such bright goldy hair and silk stockings 
 
 with blue garters. 
 Directly the Feast's over I'm going to talk to Dad 
 
 about settling me;^i 
 He says the Agent's awkward,
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 But I shouldn't think they'd refuse Dad if he meant it 
 'Coz every one owns he's the smartest farmer anywhere : 
 What with our farm here and three outside the Estate 
 We've seventeen hundred acres of the best, 
 And more machinery than any score of the neighbours. 
 If the Agent can't find a place Dad must let me have 
 
 the Red House 
 
 There's only two of our labourers in it 
 And I think Vi's game if Dad'll agree, 
 Only you're never sure if she means what she says. 
 She's a regular little devil and knows what's what! 
 We were trying the new mare to Mr Dane's King 
 
 Bruce yesterday 
 And just as he was getting properly to work she 
 
 walked down the yard as cool as a cucumber, 
 Never turning a hair but standing to watch the 
 
 stallion, 
 
 While I didn't know which way to turn; 
 Then asked if I didn't want to come and look at their 
 
 new motor. 
 When we went through the shrubbery I gave her such 
 
 a hug! 
 
 Unless Dad does something quickly he may find him- 
 self forced ; 
 He thinks he's arranging for me to marry Jennie 
 
 Smithson 
 Who I wouldn't be seen dead in a ditch with. 
 
 88. LENA AMBROSE 
 
 I shall go crazy if this keeps on ! 
 
 The last fortnight I've hardly had a wink of sleep: 
 
 He keeps letting out a bit at a time, 
 
 A word or two, and then a snore; 
 
 But I've pieced it all together 
 
 Except for the names
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 He never mentions names 
 
 And though I say ' Yes ' and ' What ' and nudge the 
 
 pillow * 
 
 He's just as clunch as when he's awake. 
 Of course I shouldn't tell anybody, 
 We might both land in jail for letting out Post Office 
 
 secrets, 
 
 But he might tell me. 
 
 It can only be one of two women in Fletton, 
 I'm sure of that 
 One of 'em is my sister-in-law, the schoolmaster's 
 
 wife 
 And to-night I shall say their names over and over to 
 
 see if he gives any sign. 
 
 89. JACK KEY 
 
 That bloody Australian did a cross on me 
 
 But I shall have it out with him again ; 
 
 I wasn't fit that day: 
 
 Next time I shan't touch a drop till I've won. 
 
 He thinks because he knows a bruiser or two he can 
 beat anybody, 
 
 But muscle and beef must tell, 
 
 And after this fist has landed on his jaw his grand- 
 father won't know him, 
 
 Nor yet any of the girls he's after. 
 
 I've licked all the gipsies that come nigh Fletton 
 
 And should have smashed that bastard Waddy 
 
 If he hadn't sprung a dirty trick on me before I was 
 rightly ready, 
 
 Jumping and dodging about like a monkey: 
 
 I'll monkey him! 
 
 What call had he to interfere when we was going to 
 ran-tan Herbert Dobney's wife ? 
 
 (Unless he'd been there first, 
 
 123
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Which is more than likely) 
 
 The sooner he's run out of Fletton the better. 
 
 He's taWking about buying horses and will spoil the 
 
 market 
 
 Which has been all right till now. 
 You can't buy wrong, 'coz the Government takes all 
 
 at a profit: 
 I've cleared twenty-two apiece on three yearlings I got 
 
 out of that young fool Edgerley, 
 And should have had Hemsley's if it hadn't been for 
 
 that interfering Rowett 
 Who wants them himself. 
 
 90. ISAAC CREASEY 
 
 There ought to be a law against folks letting property 
 
 down. 
 
 They have turned out lazy farmers lately 
 And that good-for-nothing Thomson should be dealt 
 
 with, 
 
 Letting the finest house in Fletton go to ruin. 
 He'd be better off in a small place, 
 But though I've pressed him to change with me 
 He only laughs. 
 There will come a day, however, when he can't pay 
 
 the mortgage interest. 
 
 If it was mine I could entertain the visiting pastors : 
 As Senior Deacon the right is mine, 
 But I've no room in Ivy Villa, and Dobney takes 
 
 all. 
 
 I must have another chat with Lawyer Ferrett. 
 Thomson is a child of the Evil One 
 And scoffs at the righteous in the Golden Cross; 
 Maybe the Almighty will lose patience and strike him 
 
 down, 
 
 But the wicked have no fears. 
 
 124
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 There's Frederick Dobney who will press for a har- 
 monium : 
 
 Whilst I lead the singing no profane instrument shall 
 enter Bethel; 
 
 I will have no tampering with the Bible; 
 
 Especially as the end of the world is so near. 
 
 I have agreed to a Baptistery being built, 
 
 Because the old way of immersing candidates in the 
 river 
 
 Although according to Divine practice 
 
 Is unsuitable to our wintry weather, 
 
 And we lost Mrs Watson altogether. 
 
 She was ripe and willing to assist us 
 
 But didn't unfortunately last until the spring: 
 
 The ways of Providence are indeed mysterious ! 
 
 William Bowles the Second Deacon will bend to the 
 women about that harmonium when I am gone. 
 
 Meantime Dobney would be better occupied in looking 
 after his business; 
 
 I know more than he thinks, 
 
 And the time approaches when he will outface me no 
 longer 
 
 The stiff-necked son of Belial ! 
 
 His name was not written in the book of the Elect : 
 
 He and Thomson will burn together. 
 
 91. EMMANUEL CREASEY 
 
 I hardly slept a wink last night, 
 
 Which is maybe not unusual for an astronomer: JT" 
 
 Perhaps it was the strange familiarity of this low-roofed 
 attic 
 
 Where, mother tells me, I was born ; 
 
 Or the shock of finding the village so amazingly un- 
 altered. 
 
 "5
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 On my return to take the new appointment, 
 
 Coming to see my fond old parent 
 
 To whom I owe so much 
 
 I find her little changed, and Fletton not at all, 
 
 Since as a lad I sought Jupiter's moons through a tube 
 of cardboard. 
 
 After the strenuous growth of Western America 
 
 Such stagnation is incredible: 
 
 When you look into it, Fletton hasn't changed for five 
 hundred years, 
 
 And Jacob Harvey could have lived comfortably with 
 any of his ancestors back to King John. 
 
 The active vocabulary is about three hundred 
 words 
 
 Mostly of one syllable 
 
 Whilst sentiments and instincts are unaltered since the 
 Heptarchy. 
 
 These villagers are vegetables in face and life, 
 
 They look like cabbages, talk like cabbages, think, act, 
 and feel like cabbages, 
 
 And are as ignorant and brutish as Basutos. 
 
 The sky has no wonder for them, the heavens no 
 depth ; 
 
 For them no Galileo lived, no Newton laboured, 
 
 And even my poor achievements are unknown ; 
 
 They hear I star-gaze and think the moon has ' touched' 
 me, 
 
 But however slow the march of Time 
 
 Science will reach this Feudal backwater, 
 
 Making a clean sweep of cottages, peasants, gentle- 
 men-farmers, game-laws, brainless Earls, and un- 
 economic-holdings. 
 
 Those duck eggs I had for breakfast were delicious; 
 
 I wish I could take some back to London with 
 me.
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 92. JOE MAKINS 
 
 The War's altered a good many things 
 
 It's altered me, by God! 
 
 I used to work from light to dark for Challands, 
 
 Monday morning to Saturday night for half a crown 
 
 a day, 
 
 And lucky if I got two quarts of beer through the week. 
 They'll find it out, these lazy farmers, 
 For there's lots my way of thinking now 
 And we're through with the old game. 
 Challands tried to bluster me out of the cottage 
 Just as if there wasn't a War on 
 (There hasn't been for him, except he's richer.) 
 What did we go to fight for ? 
 I told him what I'd do if he said another word 
 And he slunk off like a dog: 
 Once I shouldn't a dared to answer him back. 
 I earn a dollar when there's a chance, lay off when I 
 
 feel like it, and take life easy. 
 Sarah's all for the old ways and doesn't fancy working 
 
 in the fields: 
 
 I tell her the women do it in Belgium regular, 
 But she reckons the Army's ruined me 
 Something wanted ruining in Fletton. 
 What's the good of work ? 
 My old torn cat had a better time than me 
 And a bloody sight more sense. 
 Only fools and horses work ! 
 The fried fish and ice cream trade's all right while they 
 
 last, 
 
 But that's not long. 
 As for the Army, 
 It's a fine life in many ways, 
 And I'm not sure I shan't join up again when my leg's 
 
 better : 
 
 .** 127 K
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Provided there ain't a war on always you can't beat 
 
 the Army : 
 Sarah had better mind her one eye. 
 
 93. THE HON. EUSTACE KYME 
 
 If the rain stops I shall do a round 
 
 To try over the idea I got from Fulton 
 
 The Ely professional 
 
 Who has a new cross-grip that seems easy. 
 
 Strive as I will my handicap remains at nine, 
 
 While Major Scott has gone down to five. 
 
 If I hadn't such an incompetent ass for a clerk, I could 
 get out more often. 
 
 I wish Betty would practise with me instead of 
 mooning about the village: 
 
 Her latest craze is wounded soldiers; 
 
 She brings them into the garden to give them flowers 
 
 And even lessons in the summer house; 
 
 She'll find they don't understand her condescension : 
 
 Familiarity with the lower classes never pays. 
 
 The Countess agrees with me and has always been 
 careful, 
 
 But I'm afraid of Aubrey, 
 
 Who is full of revolutionary ideas and capable of any- 
 thing. 
 
 I could almost wish he'd break his neck out hunting, 
 
 For Fitz would make a splendid Earl, 
 
 And worthily carry out the family traditions. 
 
 I receive a deputation this evening to ask for holdings 
 for returned soldiers; 
 
 But I shall put my foot down firmly. 
 
 Unfortunately the Government is weak 
 
 And has pandered to this fantastic Socialism 
 
 Which threatens the foundation of Old England. 
 
 Small holdings are a fallacy 
 
 128
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 (Invented by Radical candidates), 
 
 As can be shown from our history: 
 
 Five times the Estate has tried them and five times 
 
 failed ; 
 
 The peasants start with high hopes, 
 But lacking capital and staying power are defeated by 
 
 two bad seasons: 
 
 They draw all goodness from the soil, 
 Living on its accumulated value, 
 And when they retire the Estate must take over at a 
 
 loss. 
 
 The larger tenant may not get so much return per acre, 
 But he farms to carry on. 
 Any fool can succeed (for a time) by exhausting rich 
 
 soil, 
 
 Like those Yankees with their prairies, 
 Raising wheat twenty years in succession without 
 
 manuring: 
 Give me the old-fashioned man who hands his place on 
 
 to his son. 
 
 Small-holders are a pestilential crew, 
 Neither to bind nor to hold, 
 Disruptive of Church, State, and the System, 
 And I don't care either for the other extreme 
 The business farmer: 
 Hides is as turbulent as any peasant and fifty times 
 
 more dangerous; 
 
 He actually wanted to farm the whole Estate, 
 Turning the Tenantry into the street, 
 But I soon put him in his place 
 And he retired abashed: 
 I shall admit no more of his kidney whilst I hold the 
 
 reins. 
 
 Sometimes I fear he is intriguing still; 
 For, unfortunately, the Countess is ready to point out 
 
 that we don't clear two per cent, on our capital 
 
 value 
 
 129
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 (It's lucky she doesn't know what land is worth to-day; 
 We don't show more than one per cent, really). 
 An Agent's life is full of worry; 
 There's Mogg and Fullerton and Barley and Benton 
 And several awkward fellows on our boundary who 
 
 harass, 
 To say nothing of invasions of poaching scoundrels 
 
 from that horrible Hordle. 
 In spite of all, it's a model Estate, 
 And a justification of the System : 
 We tend our people in their daily lives, 
 We guide and guard them ceaselessly, 
 We weed and prune and cautiously delete; 
 And as long as the Owner lives on the land all is well : 
 It's the Absentee who ruins us. 
 There's only one trouble 
 I have no children 
 And seeing that in case of accident Fletton might pass 
 
 to another Branch, 
 
 It is not right that I should have no heir. 
 If only Betty could be brought to reason I should be 
 
 happy; 
 
 And though I can scarce invade her resolution 
 It may be said to be the purpose of matrimony, 
 And many would urge she has no right to withhold 
 
 herself: 
 
 She pleads her health, 
 
 But will not consult either Berry or a specialist . . . 
 There are times when I feel very doubtful. 
 
 94. JEREMIAH LOWE 
 
 It's a strange thing if you come to look at it ; 
 Folks are born and live here for a century or so 
 Yet never know anything about the place. 
 
 It's a wonderful old village, 
 
 130
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Mentioned in the Doomsday Book as Fleyton, 
 
 And at different times named Flegton and Flyton, 
 
 Here, Parson says, before the Romans. 
 
 Since I practically retired from the coal-business, 
 
 Having neither kith nor kin to follow me, 
 
 I've spent my time finding everything I could about 
 
 it, 
 
 And am minded to write a book. 
 
 There's plenty of history. 
 
 The Cootes got it from Charles Second; 
 
 They say Charles First, but it wasn't: 
 
 It was given to one of his whores for a bastard, 
 
 And they've kept up the family tradition. 
 
 Fletton's full of left-handed Cootes, 
 
 There's one in Paradise Row to-day, a worthy descen- 
 dant of the founder. 
 
 Our old church dates from Stephen, 
 
 Though, I admit, not much of it, 
 
 But the Antiquarians from Bly say the belfry threshold 
 is indisputable. 
 
 The Register's full of interesting facts : 
 
 Families don't die out here, 
 
 Whilst foreigners aren't encouraged. 
 
 The Moggs were here in Sixteen-Sixty, 
 
 And though Davis swears there's no connection 
 
 His father hearing of Fletton for the first time from a 
 servant-girl 
 
 I have no doubt it's the same lot: 
 
 How came he to get a servant from Fletton, anyway ? 
 
 There's always been an Esau Burrows and a George 
 Jenkins and a Butler Atkins. 
 
 The Lowes came in Seventeen-Sixty and can hardly 
 claim to belong to Fletton, 
 
 Though my cousin Amelia denies it hotly, 
 
 So it scarcely becomes me to write its history: 
 
 Yet if there's no one else I suppose I must. 
 
 I've been reading about the Enclosing of the Commons
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 And it's given me a nasty shock; 
 
 It was the worst thing ever done in this country, 
 
 And the worst thing for it : 
 
 However, I will reserve that for my great book. 
 
 Flettori's full of place-names 
 
 The Carrs, the Wyche, Stephen's Tower, the Abbey 
 
 Field, 
 
 All have their origin and meaning; 
 While only yesterday monks wandered through our 
 
 streets. 
 
 It's a relic of Old England, 
 
 A living memory, untouched by the city's bustle, 
 And so long as we keep the railway and telephone away, 
 
 we're safe. 
 
 The dialect is going, unfortunately, 
 Owing to this craze for education, 
 And the labourers' children say grarse, 
 Meaning grass. 
 
 It's true some ancient customs are kept up, 
 Although the schoolboys when they * beat the bounds * 
 
 little know the meaning of their game. 
 I am going now to look at a bottle dug up by Fred 
 
 Overton, 
 
 Who's very fly and thinks it's valuable : 
 It may be old but I shan't offer him more than two 
 
 shillings. 
 
 95. LOTTIE BURROWS 
 
 Dressmaking isn't what it was 
 All the girls rush off to Ely 
 
 And buy that cheap and nasty stuff from Gorman's 
 I wouldn't be seen dead in : 
 It may be smart but does it last ? 
 Violet Challands has just gone by 
 Dolled up worse than a peacock with feathers and frills 
 
 132
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 And showing her legs higher than any decent girl 
 
 ought; 
 
 Somebody should talk to her father. 
 You can't get apprentices like you used; 
 They come for a couple of months and then flounce 
 
 away 
 
 Thinking they know as much as me; 
 Why can't they settle down and be contented ? 
 Mrs Ambrose promised to send one of her three girls 
 
 but she never did. 
 If Lizzie Cook would behave herself I could make 
 
 something of her, 
 
 But I've too much on hand to be always here. 
 What with Uncle Esau and Great-Aunt Lowe 
 Who worry my life out between them 
 I'd as lief be married to Jim Bones, 
 Who's always nagging at me to look after his six 
 
 children. 
 
 Great-Aunt Lowe has promised me her furniture 
 But Jim says it's only fit for firewood ; 
 Besides, she won't die for another ten years 
 To spite Mr Dobney 
 
 Who'd make a cat laugh when he inquires after her. 
 As for Uncle Esau, I wish he'd stopped in America, 
 He's that crotchety, 
 
 And will soon be in his second childhood. 
 Nobody knows why he came back to Fletton; 
 He does nothing but find fault with it all day long, 
 Or gossip with that horrible Harvey, the publican. 
 He's going to leave me a fortune, he says, 
 But Jim reckons that tale's been told too often. 
 If he got a fortune out there, he'd have stopped there; 
 He's only come home where he can live cheap : 
 Cousin Tom may have it all and welcome. 
 Great-Aunt Lowe says I shall be Jim's slave 
 (She will call him ' Cunning ' Jim, 
 As if he didn't have to be careful), 
 
 133
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 But I'd rather be a slave in my own house than hers. 
 He may drink, but he lays that to having no wife, 
 And I don't believe a word about his beating the last 
 
 one. 
 
 I could keep on as I am, of course, 
 But what is there to look forward to ? 
 
 96. MARIA CREASEY 
 
 Mrs Woolerton's as heavy as me, 
 
 Yet she hardly moves out of her shop 
 
 While I'm as active as ever, spite of my two and 
 
 twenty stone : 
 
 If she'd had nineteen children she might begin to talk. 
 They've all done well, excepting Will who's ailed since 
 
 the black mare trod on his face, 
 And little Jacob lost at Ypres. 
 The Twins (Joel and Amos) would have thriven 
 But they fell in the water-butt, 
 And I've never fancied using it since. 
 It's been a struggle, but Isaac's been very good, 
 And so was James while he lived: 
 Give me your own flesh and blood in trouble. 
 When Jacob came out of prison 
 (On account of a little misunderstanding with the 
 
 Oddfellows) 
 We started him in the butchering, and all the Baptists 
 
 traded with him : 
 Many's the joint he's sent for our Sunday dinner 
 
 before he died of the ague caught in Barkston jail 
 Those Oddfellows murdered him and will never thrive. 
 Us Creaseys are a good old stock, 
 That's why I married my cousin; 
 Jacob would never have had that accident if he hadn't 
 
 wedded a Bones. 
 
 I nearly took Anthony Woods instead of poor Jabez ; 
 
 134
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 He was very fond of me, was Anthony, and has kept 
 
 single ever since: 
 It shows you what I was, then. 
 I don't feel any different now except my ankle bothers 
 
 me on wet days; 
 That's Daniel Skinner's fault; 
 He'd no sooner finished our bedroom floor than I put 
 
 my foot through 
 
 And it took six men to get me out again, 
 While Jabez held a broom under me from below. 
 All my bairns are here for the Feast 
 Excepting Walter, who can't get, being in the Civil 
 
 Service 
 
 And working double-tides, account of the War. 
 Enoch's at school yet, 
 Adam's apprenticed, 
 
 Job has a little place under the County Council, 
 He married that Dring girl and joined the Wesleyans; 
 Abel's educated himself by scholarship to be an 
 
 engineer; 
 He never gets to the Feast, having four of his own at 
 
 Newcastle; 
 
 But the others come when they can. 
 Bess is barmaid at Doncaster, Susan's doing well in a 
 
 shell-factory, Mary's a nurse, and Jane's a cook 
 
 in Bly: 
 
 She will try to help me at the Feast, 
 But I can't do with any one fussing in my 
 
 kitchen : 
 
 I made frummety before she was thought of. 
 Anne's always here, of course, 
 Having married Enderby Hicks, 
 And so is Noah at the chemist's shop 
 (My poor mad boy, ruined by a foreigner). 
 The only one I'm doubtful about is Emmanuel, who 
 
 was always? queer; 
 
 Instead of scaring crows for Mr Challands's father he 
 
 135
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 used to measure the sun with thatch-pegs stuck 
 
 in the ground, 
 And nearly died of bronchitis being out at night 
 
 counting stars : 
 
 Who wants to know how many stars there be ? 
 He's come home for the first time in fourteen years, 
 After living in foreign parts among savages ; 
 He was always fond of duck eggs and I must see he 
 
 has plenty. 
 
 97. MRS WILLIAM BOWLES 
 
 It's a good thing Thomas did leave the Chapel, 
 
 Or his Missis would have managed as he'd been Second 
 
 Deacon instead of William. 
 
 When Isaac Creasey passes away we shall stand first, 
 And by then, if things go as well as they promise, 
 We shall be able to live up in the village 
 Instead of down this Fen where nobody passes except 
 
 Jabe Wells. 
 
 It's a long way to drive to Chapel, 
 But we wouldn't miss if it was twice as far. 
 On Thursday Mr Tyrell preaches at the Anniversary: 
 Mrs Barley, Mrs Fullerton, Mrs Ambrose, and her 
 
 three girls, have promised to sit at my table 
 And I shall take Grandmother Bowles's silver service 
 
 and a quart of cream. 
 
 William says it's against the law while the War's on 
 But Mr Daniels wouldn't interfere with our Anni- 
 versary, 
 And anyway he can't get the cream back once it's 
 
 gone, can he ? 
 
 Of course the Dobneys will make a show 
 They always do 
 
 She wears enough on her back to stock a farm, 
 Which doesn't seem right at a Chapel tea, 
 
 136
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 But my sealskin coat's as good as anything of hers. 
 
 Mrs Creasey never makes a fuss because Mr Isaac 
 keeps her too close 
 
 And it's not surprising the visiting pastors stay at the 
 Dobneys : 
 
 Besides he talks so! 
 
 I'm glad I married a quiet man, 
 
 Always there and always the same 
 
 And master in his own home as he should be. 
 
 I have to be careful not to set him against Mrs Thomas 
 
 Because I don't want folks to say I've made him 
 quarrel with his brother; 
 
 I've plenty to do without that: 
 
 Milk to churn, butter to make, bread to bake, poultry 
 to feed, children to look after, dinner to cook, 
 dairy to clean, and forty more things, 
 
 To say nothing of the housework 
 
 All single-handed. 
 
 When we live in Fletton I shall have a maid like 
 sister-in-law Waddy 
 
 And put a black dress on for tea when the pastors 
 come: 
 
 Maud Dobney (that was) says they all like good 
 feeding, 
 
 And some of them look as if they didn't often get it; 
 
 They shall have pork-pie, ham, hot-buttered cake, 
 blackberry jam, crumpets, sausage-rolls, home- 
 brewed beer, and all the cream they want. 
 
 98. DANIEL SKINNER 
 
 When I learnt my trade they trusted in English oak 
 Grown on the spot and well-seasoned, 
 But now they're all for cheapness. 
 When I've done a job I like it to be for keeps, 
 Not to be called in next summer to patch it up; 
 
 137
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 That's all right for James Toulson 
 
 Fussing about with steam-saws and apprentices straight 
 
 from school 
 
 What don't know an adze from an axle, 
 But I've a reputation and think of my latter end. 
 Good work well done has been the foundation of 
 
 Fletton, 
 
 And if it's not kept up the place will go to ruin. 
 The houses built lately won't stand a generation; 
 Toulson did 'em on contract helped out by Billy Bean, 
 
 and I saw what went into 'em ; 
 I wouldn't sleep in one on a windy night if they gave 
 
 it me. 
 If one of my boys had stopped I'd a brought him up 
 
 the same way; 
 But Joe never settled 
 And when he began to write home from Queensland 
 
 about land to be had for the taking, Albert soon 
 
 went to join him; 
 
 I did hope little Daniel would stay: 
 Now they want me to sell out and spend my old age 
 
 in a foreign country. 
 
 I was born in Fletton and I'll be buried in Fletton 
 Where there's been Skinners since no one knows 
 
 when; 
 Now there's only my girl Joyce andjmy cantankerous 
 
 nephew Moses left. 
 Old England's good enough for me, 
 I've no faith in foreigners; 
 Look at the Frenchwoman that married old Albert 
 
 Tharp and ran awayl 
 
 Them Tharps has had a wrong strain ever since. 
 Young Waddy says the soil in Queensland grows four 
 
 crops a year 
 
 W'hich doesn't sound in the way of Nature, 
 But he swears to it, 
 
 And some of what he says is borne out by Joe's letters. 
 
 138
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 I wish they'd been able to stop in Fletton, 
 Only they couldn't get land or houses; 
 It don't seem right as one man should own it all 
 To parcel out to fellows like Challands 
 Who's as much as would have kept my three: 
 They'd have farmed his head off. 
 
 99. PETER TODD 
 
 Now I've come to an understanding with Smithson 
 
 I feel as if there was nothing else to try for : 
 
 The Todds will stand first in Fletton. 
 
 There's times when I've wished I'd set up in Bly 
 
 Like Elsom or Fennington or Sharp, or the great 
 
 Mullens 
 Who've a railway at their front door and a canal at 
 
 the back, 
 
 Moving corn in and out like lightning; 
 But for all that I'm glad I didn't: 
 Those chaps go down like ninepins in a bad time, 
 Whilst I've had the farm to lean against, 
 And there's nothing so substantial as Land 
 Trade comes and goes but Land's always there; 
 It can't run away in the night. 
 Thanks to being well in with the Agent 
 (Using my great influence at elections) 
 I've been able to get both my lads placed out; 
 That's the best of farming ; 
 You can start your boys one at a time without feeling 
 
 it 
 
 And help 'em along till they're afloat 
 So they can marry early and begin as they mean to go 
 
 on 
 
 (Keeping a sharp eye on their wives 
 Women'll ruin you if you let 'em 
 Look at my brother-in-law). 
 
 139
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 I'm not sorry as neither of 'em wanted to carry on the 
 
 corn-buying; 
 
 Although David's smart enough : 
 I had a good run and no competition to mention 
 Until that sneaking Stower started his dirty tricks. 
 My son-in-law, Townsend, will have to keep his eye 
 
 open. 
 
 100. JIMMY DODDS 
 
 Aunt Stower's given me a pair of boots to start in 
 
 And I get two new suits a year 
 
 And Mam will let me have sixpence a week. 
 
 Mrs Nat what's staying at the Vicarage (but is no 
 
 relation to Grandad) has given me half a crown ; 
 If I'd begun sooner I'd have had a lot saved up for 
 
 the Feast . 
 Since Dad hurt his leg he ain't earned much regular 
 
 money 
 (Aero-planet] 
 
 But now I've left school we shall be all right. 
 I'm to groom the pony and tend the Vicarage garden, 
 And on Sundays go once to Church and once to 
 
 Chapel turn about 
 By special agreement with the Vicar, 
 Because Mam's afraid of Grandad, what's wrong in his 
 
 head. 
 
 He built our Chapel years and years ago 
 And never misses if the rheumatiz lets him. 
 Mam says I mustn't listen to his talk: 
 As if I should ! 
 
 He scares you the way he grabs your arm, 
 And his eyes are like red-hot nails. 
 At Church there's the beautifullest window of different 
 
 colours, 
 
 And the organ 1 1 1 
 
 140
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Miss Wilders says if I blow for her nicely she'll learn 
 
 me the notes, 
 
 So I shall be able mebbe to play like her one day, 
 Which is more'n Ham Townsend or Monty Ferrett'll 
 
 ever do. 
 
 We sing better at Chapel of course 
 You can hear my alto above everybody 
 And Mister Wmterbourne gives me peppermints, 
 But there's nothing like an organ. 
 I'm very lucky to get a job in such a wonderful 
 
 house ; 
 
 They put the rummest clothes on at night 
 I don't mean nightshirts 
 But suits to have their supper in when Amy Maple- 
 
 thorpe waits on them, 
 
 And there's a bedroom with nothing but a bath in it 
 And hot water always ready. 
 It's better than having to work for that horrible Mr 
 
 Challands ; 
 
 I'm scared of Miss Challands 
 Who will kiss me on my mouth when I take the 
 
 washing back. 
 
 101. AMELIA LOWE 
 
 To-day's my ninety-sixth birthday but I don't feel it; 
 I may have to stop in my bedroom through the winter 
 
 by Dr Berry's orders, 
 But when the fine weather comes I get about in my 
 
 bath-chair, 
 
 And so long as Lottie Burrows is here I don't mind. 
 That Nurse from London is always fussing round, 
 But I don't hold with foreigners. 
 She's very fond of me, is Lottie 
 And I'm sorry I can't leave her anything but these bits 
 
 of sticks. 
 
 141
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Father willed all the property to my humbugging half- 
 brother 
 Fred Dobney 
 Providing he paid me three pounds a week as long as 
 
 I live. 
 It was a grand old business but Fred's wife has spent 
 
 all, 
 And only the fear of Lawyer Ferrett has made him 
 
 pay up lately: 
 Cousin Jeremiah warns me even that won't avail much 
 
 longer, 
 
 But he was always gloomy. 
 If the weather's damp and my chest not so good, Fred 
 
 sends his girl round to ask how I am, 
 Hoping to hear the worst 
 When she comes into the bedroom I shut my eyes and 
 
 don't speak, 
 
 Just to aggravate him 
 I'm not going before my time. 
 There's only two now in Fletton older than me 
 And George Jenkins isn't likely to last out long; 
 Then it will be a race between me and Sarah Jackson : 
 She comes of a poor stock and I shall beat her easy. 
 
 1 02, MRS THOMAS BOWLES 
 
 I was a fool to take Thomas! 
 
 He's as dry as a codfish and as mean as dirt, 
 
 Always contriving it's my money to be spent and not 
 
 his: 
 I'm sick to death of his thin lips and eyes drawn up 
 
 with wrinkles. 
 
 I ought to have had his brother, who is twice the man 
 I should have had children by him 
 But he got taken in by a servant girl, more's the pity. 
 
 Men are such ninnies 1 
 
 142
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 As for Thomas he's hankering after his old sweet- 
 heart 
 
 Who makes eyes at him through their shop window; 
 
 He never dared marry her because she hadn't a penny, 
 
 And now he's sorry. 
 
 I wish he'd bolt to Australia with her, 
 
 But he hasn't the pluck; 
 
 It's a good thing for her he hasn't. 
 
 The only thing I got by marrying again 
 
 Was being able to cut away that tribe of Creaseys 
 and Dobneys: 
 
 Susan ought to have made her man go to Church. 
 
 103. MERCY CULLEN 
 
 He was a little wrong in his head at times 
 
 Poor child 
 
 Perhaps it was something to do with Grandmother 
 
 Dorrien the Frenchwoman : 
 He would a got over that if he'd married and reared 
 
 a family. 
 
 Brother Albert was the same when he was young, 
 But thirteen bairns gave him enough to think about 
 Without shouldering other people's troubles : 
 There's nothing like a bedmate to cure a boy of idle 
 
 fancies. 
 
 I'm sorry I didn't overpersuade Alfred 
 And let Guy have a go at the Civil Service; 
 Alfred is strong-willed and wanted him in the slaughter 
 
 house 
 
 Which he hated worse'n poison; 
 He wished to get out of Fletton because it was * too 
 
 hard': 
 
 The world was too hard for him, poor child. 
 The Vicar was very nice about it, 
 And raised no objection to him lying in the Cemetery: 
 
 143 L
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Everybody knew he wasn't responsible when he had 
 
 those headaches. 
 That horrible witch by the Mill offered to cure him 
 
 for a couple of fat ducks ; 
 As if I should have let her touch him : 
 She ought to be ran-tanned, only they're all scared of 
 
 her. 
 
 Young Tharp had a bad influence on Guy, 
 And would play his fiddle till I was nearly crazed; 
 I couldn't tell him not to come 
 (Like I did Silly Sam who was always round), 
 Seeing his father was my brother: 
 He came to grief himself, however : 
 You can't outface Providence. 
 After that day I found a lot of exercise books in his 
 
 box, 
 All scribbled over in pencil with poetry and stuff that 
 
 wasn't sense; 
 I burnt it lest any one should bring it up against him. 
 
 IO4. HUCKLEBURY OLDFIELD 
 
 Parson can say what he pleases, 
 
 But I've got the best of it so far, 
 
 And Churchwarden Potterton is with us. 
 
 Locking the belfry door agen him was a master-stroke, 
 
 And he looks like a fool after his tall talk. 
 
 Ain't I the Sexton regular appointed long afore we'd 
 
 heard of Parson? 
 And wasn't my Dad and Grandad afore him sextons 
 
 and blacksmiths in Fletton Parish ? 
 He's only been here about ten minutes, 
 And reckons the Church is his to do what he likes 
 
 with; 
 But he's mistook: 
 
 It's ours and will be when he's forgotten : 
 
 144
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 He'd better go back where he came from 
 
 Trying to alter our old ways. 
 
 He says our Moll must go back to her husband, 
 
 As if any one could blame her for leaving Bill ; 
 
 Why don't he talk to the right parties ? 
 
 The last straw was when he wanted to stop us ringing 
 
 for the Club-Feast last Thursday, 
 Same as we've done from time immemorial ; 
 We locked ourselves in and let him rave in the church- 
 yard, 
 
 But he soon got tired of that. 
 (My old woman could beat him easy.) 
 What's wrong with Club Feasts ? 
 Parson's rich and has all the outings he wants; 
 Why does he grudge us our only holiday 
 Marching round the village in sashes and white gloves 
 
 with a band and banner to have a good dinner at 
 
 the Golden Cross ? 
 In the old days they used to have a holiday every 
 
 Sunday, 
 With dog and cat and cock-fighting and bowls and 
 
 lots of games in the Abbey Field, 
 But the Earl took the Field and the Parson took the 
 
 Holiday. 
 Hilton Wells my brother-in-law says the Vicar will 
 
 have me turned out, 
 But I'm duly appointed according to the custom of the 
 
 Parish 
 
 And the Earl himself couldn't do it; 
 Not as he'd try, 
 
 He's a gentleman and knows what's what. 
 If yon fellow fell from yon aeroplane he'd be ready for 
 
 me. 
 Of all that lay around none ever saw such a thing in 
 
 the air, 
 And there's a tidy number here and across the road in 
 
 the Cemetery. 
 
 145
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 I wish Fd a sovereign for all I've buried, 
 
 But whilst I do the work Parson grabs the fee, blast 
 
 him! 
 
 It's always so: 
 Look at old Challands who ground his labourers down 
 
 cruel, and lays under that granite pillar; 
 He lived to a great age, did himself well, drank a 
 
 bottle of brandy every night, and died in his 
 
 sleep. 
 
 It almost seems better to sweat than be sweated, 
 Though Enoch Burrows wouldn't have agreed: 
 He never gave a wry word to any one; 
 Now he lies beside his missis, while Cartwright hands 
 
 out writs as if he loved it. 
 
 105. DR BERRY (II) 
 
 That wasn't a trap: it was an aeroplane! 
 
 It's making as much noise as the Vicar's sister; 
 
 If he doesn't send her away 
 
 I shall take a long holiday and leave her to look after 
 
 the practice. 
 I can stand a good deal, 
 Though our fool nurse Longthorne tries me hard 
 
 enough; 
 
 But women doctors are the limit, 
 And Lome ought to know better; 
 It's no excuse that she's his only sister from New 
 
 Zealand, 
 
 And that her husband's in the R.A.M.C. 
 Although she daren't criticise me openly 
 I know what she thinks by her face when we meet. 
 If she ran these villages she'd learn the difference 
 
 between practice and theory: 
 All that stuff they're crammed with nowadays addles 
 
 their brains 
 
 146
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 (I see it in the B.M J.), 
 
 But it doesn't show 'em how to make folks better. 
 
 I wonder how she'd get on with Jimmy Bones, 
 
 Who I'm trying to cure of a visit to Ann Cutts 
 
 (I fancied the old professional had retired long ago) : 
 
 He's rotten inside and out and stinks worse than his 
 
 filthy house. 
 
 Fletton's looked after well enough: 
 When folks are ill they don't want book-learning, 
 They want somebody they've known all their lives to 
 
 look in with a cheerful smile and tell 'em they're 
 
 not really bad, 
 Pass a joke, clap 'em on the shoulder, and say they 
 
 must get up the day after to-morrow, 
 Which, thanks to an open-air life and my hypnotic 
 
 suggestion, they mostly do. 
 I know all about psycho-analysis! 
 There's no ' repression ' in this village; 
 The natives obey immediately their impulses of Preser- 
 vation and Reproduction 
 And live as naturally as savages 
 
 (Except Noah Creasey who, I'm certain, is a pervert). 
 Children know everything in a village 
 Where little is talked of but ' breeding,' 
 And cocks tread hens under the nursery windows. 
 That Colonial snob had better ' analyse ' her brother, 
 Whose dreams would make her hair curl if he told 
 
 'em. 
 They say she gives the schoolchildren pennies to bob 
 
 to her in the street : 
 I should think now the Feast's on she'll do quite a 
 
 good trade. 
 
 If I had my time over I should be a Veterinary: 
 Hicks gets more for curing pigs than I ever get for 
 
 curing babies, 
 Whilst if it comes to that Betty Williamson's fees 
 
 are miles ahead of either of us. 
 
 M7
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 1 06. JAPHET RUSTON 
 
 Things aren't what they was in grandfather's time 
 when there was a toll-gate on the Bridge, 
 
 And everybody had to stop and naturally took refresh- 
 ment at the Coach-and-Horses ; 
 
 But these motors don't mind the hills, blast 'em ! 
 
 Tom Glover's just gone by as if the devil was after 
 him ; 
 
 He's up to no good, I hear: 
 
 The Council should give half his wage to poor 
 Hodgson. 
 
 Things are much the same otherways; 
 
 The carriers stand by the Bridge on market-days, 
 
 And Cart Burrows still jogs past with his wobbling 
 wheels : 
 
 He belongs to the Mill Inn so I don't expect him 
 
 (An aero-plane! 
 
 I hope they won't spread, or inns will have to climb 
 steeples). 
 
 Bob Cutts walked past as I was shaving 
 
 He won't catch any worms though! 
 
 A stranger's gone down the hill; 
 
 He'd the same trick of trailing his feet as the Doctor 
 
 And I wondered if it could be little Cy Berry grown 
 up. 
 
 That rotten Barley's galloped by with his shoulders up 
 to his ears; 
 
 I hope the Blue Ribboners'll skin him. 
 
 It was my own niece Jane that led him astray, 
 
 The interfering sow! 
 
 I shouldn't have minded if she'd got hold of Wallace, 
 
 Who spends his days dodging in and out the off- 
 licenced houses that ought to be all shut. 
 
 Hilton Wells says Wallace says he knows why I 
 
 refuse to cross that Bridge. 
 148
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 But he doesn't: 
 
 The secret died with Old Blow. 
 
 Hallo! 
 
 Here's our Lawyer long before his time; 
 
 He's got the young ferret with him too; 
 
 That's what Tubby's girls were hanging round for. 
 
 107. JOSEPH ELVIN AND JOB CREASEY 
 
 Good morning, Joe, 
 
 I'm glad to see you by the window, so 
 
 You've been bad! 
 
 A nasty time you've had! 
 
 I'm sure you're getting better now, 
 
 Your colour's back, and anyhow 
 
 You're looking fine: 
 
 It's a good sign! 
 
 What? what! 
 
 Don't say so! 
 
 Come Joe 
 
 Rubbish, man! 
 
 Don't give up living while you can; 
 
 Such nonsense talking about dying, 
 
 It's 'coz you've been so long a'lying; 
 
 Just 'coz you're weak and low: 
 
 But . . . that'll go! 
 
 The crops is looking splendid down the Fen, 
 
 The wheat's in ear, 
 
 Harvest's near, 
 
 And very soon we'll have you out again. 
 
 D'you mean it, Joe ? 
 
 Tou've known it all along ? ' 
 I hope you're wrong! 
 But ... if it's so 
 I wouldn't have you deceive yourself, 
 
 149
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 'Tis best to know! . 
 
 You'll want me to fetch your Parson, then ; 
 
 No? 
 
 You must want Parson to get you ready; 
 
 You've always been to Church that steady 
 
 Not what I call religious, though : 
 
 Often I've wanted to talk to you, Joe, 
 
 Serious-like but never got started 
 
 That chicken-hearted ! 
 
 You've gone to Church and prayed on Sunday, 
 
 But never carried it over Monday 
 
 Church folk don't I know! 
 
 Religion lives with you in bed at night, 
 
 By dark or light, never from sight, 
 
 The sureness of Hell for there is a Hell 
 
 That awful fire Down Below 
 
 Where all what isn't saved must go; 
 
 You too poor Joe unless you're saved; 
 
 But you know you can be saved ! 
 
 Salvation's free 
 
 For every one for you, for me; 
 
 You've only got to say the word: 
 
 It'll be heard; it'll be heard! 
 
 And now let's have a prayer together: 
 
 No? 
 
 When Death is staring in your face! 
 
 Surely you'll wake and seek for grace: 
 
 Surely then . . . Joe! 
 
 Wait a bit, Job, and listen now to me. 
 I don't want to be ' saved ' as you would say 
 Not if it's earned your chapel-going way ; 
 It's nowt to judge you by as I can see; 
 Look at our precious neighbour Tommy Stower! 
 One of your saints, a regular chapel-goer; 
 Preaches about and goes to all your ' do's,' 
 Looked on as most religious in his views; 
 
 150
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 A pious man! 
 
 Held up to answer ' Can religion pay ? ' 
 A-course it can ! 
 
 Hasn't it paid your Tommy Stower well ? 
 But Job! now, say, 
 
 Would you take his word when he's anything to sell ? 
 About a horse . . .? 
 
 He keeps within the law for fear of worse, 
 Knowing exactly just how far to go ; 
 His word it isn't worth a tinker's curse! 
 Why Job- 
 Nobody ever dreams of trusting him ; 
 And being so 
 
 Ain't he the very wickedest man you know ? 
 No, lad, you couldn't doubt 
 As he's the blackest rascal hereabout. 
 Look how he leads astray his weaker neighbours 
 What sees him prosper by his crooked labours; 
 They follow on to do what he has done, 
 Him what has risen from a poor man's son, 
 Thinking how fine are his religious ways 
 What get him straight to Heaven yet always pays! 
 Though mind you, Job 
 There's plenty goes to Chapel besides him 
 What's just as straight and square as they can go; 
 That's not what I am meaning, though; 
 For both sorts go and pray together, 
 Birds of a very different feather ; 
 Some of them hypocrites, and more 
 Like Thompson Rowett and Eli Gunn; 
 Isn't he one, your preaching Stower: 
 Isn't he one ? 
 
 Look at the things what he has done! 
 He's stronger than the likes of we, 
 He spreads himself like a ' green bay tree.' 
 Parson once said : 
 The evil what men do lives after
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 The good is always buried with their bones? 
 
 That's true, you know! 
 
 And being so 
 
 Your Stower 
 
 Your pious chapel-goer 
 
 He'll carry on when you and me lies flat : 
 
 Mind that! 
 
 What do I believe then ? 
 I'll tell you, Job, 
 I believe in doing fair to all men, 
 Even to Tommy Stower 
 Even to him! 
 It's been hard; 
 He's a bad card; 
 
 But I tried to mind as he didn't cheat me, 
 Yes, I took good care ; 
 I didn't want rascals like him to beat me: 
 So I treated him fair. 
 What I ask of others is just the same, 
 ' Do to folks as you'd be done to,' 
 That's about all as life'll run to ; 
 That's my religion, Job, 
 That's my game. 
 
 You can't ask more on this old earth 
 What's full of corners and knotty places 
 And hypocrites with smiling faces : 
 Wrong 'uns from birth; 
 It's not a perfect world, 
 It's not a righteous world, 
 Yet it's not a bad world; 
 If a man does fair, you can't ask more; 
 As I've said before, 
 It matters nowt where he goes to pray, 
 Or whatever he say; 
 That's nowt to do with his inner man, 
 It's never no guide to his inner plan; 
 
 15*
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 You've got to judge a tree by its fruit, 
 
 Not by the garden where it has root; 
 
 And so you must judge a man by his life 
 
 How he serves his friends 
 
 How he gains his ends 
 
 How he treats his wife; 
 
 If he passes that test he's good enough 
 
 Not far astray 
 
 But otherway 
 
 He's wrong : no matter where he may belong. 
 
 When I was but a little lad, 
 
 I went to Church with my old dad ; 
 
 I sat with him against the door, 
 
 My feet could hardly touch the floor, 
 
 And everything was strange to me; 
 
 While through the porch I loved to see 
 
 The birds what chirped and flew about, 
 
 Or see the flowers peeping out, 
 
 Or listen to the humming-bees, 
 
 Or watch the clouds across the trees; 
 
 And later I was glad to go: 
 
 'Twas regular and it pleased me so 
 
 To sit where father did and hear 
 
 The selfsame things, come year by year : 
 
 Not keep a-squinting at my soul 
 
 To see if it be ' saved ' or no, 
 
 Like something planted in a hole 
 
 Raved up to find if it will grow. 
 
 Some never bother unless they're ill; 
 P'raps they're afraid to face the bill; 
 They reckon as a Parson's prayer 
 Will somehow put them on the square; 
 Thinking they're like the dying thief: 
 It's only thieves want such relief 
 I'm certain Tommy Stower will; 
 You'll see, if ever he be ill. 
 
 153
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Parson will come this afternoon 
 
 It's on his round he'll be here soon 
 
 And read to me the regular prayer, 
 
 That for the sick, all right and square; 
 
 So come what may I shall scramble along, 
 
 No patching me up at the very last breath 
 
 No trying to get me ready for Death 
 
 What's the good of that if your life's been wrong ? 
 
 I'm staring Death full in the face, 
 
 It's just about the end of my race; 
 
 I can't mend it, 
 
 I can only end it; 
 
 Whatever's waiting for me yonder 
 
 And I often wonder: 
 
 If it's Peter, he'll give me a stare 
 
 Then 
 
 * Have you done fair ? ' 
 
 I shall answer square: 
 
 I can't say always, Peter, I couldn't, 
 
 Nobody could if they only confessed : 
 
 But I've struggled hard and done my best! 
 
 I've got no preaching to boast about, 
 
 And, as for praying, I never could shout; 
 
 No No I ain't always done fair; 
 
 But Peter I've mostly tried . . . 
 
 What can he say but ' Come inside ' ? 
 
 1 08. MRS POLLY BUGG 
 
 Mildred can hint as much as she likes 
 
 But I'm not going to be pushed in the corner when any 
 
 one calls, 
 
 Nor yet go to bed when there's a ' dinner ' on : 
 The money's mine as long as I live 
 And I'm good for another forty years at least. 
 
 15*
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Laurie's a genteel lad 
 
 But he hasn't the guts of a dormouse, 
 
 And like all weak men will slip away unless Mildred 
 
 is careful. 
 I saw him the other night pretending to shut a window 
 
 for the little housemaid, 
 And we all know what comes of that: 
 I must speak to her mother 
 A most respectable charlady. 
 As I said, I won't be pushed aside. 
 The Vicar likes talking to me because my common 
 
 sense ' refreshes him,' 
 And, indeed, my manners were looked on as most 
 
 refined in Bolton. 
 Such a nice gentleman stopped me this morning by 
 
 the Cemetery; 
 
 He's doing welfare work under the Salvation Army, 
 And hearing my name mentioned everywhere, made 
 
 bold to ask for my sympathy: 
 Wasn't it gratifying ? 
 He said my five pounds would go quite a long way! 
 
 109. LAURA COOK 
 
 It's too bad of Hannah when she knows how I feel 
 
 about Norman 
 
 Not to let him lodge with us instead of her; 
 She doesn't need the money like we do: 
 (He never pays, anyway) 
 And with only Dad and me here we could manage 
 
 beautiful. 
 
 She's jealous because he lets me have the tambourine; 
 But doesn't she do most of the praying ? 
 She's got one man under her thumb, 
 And I've a right to one as well: 
 I may be thirty-eight but I don't look it. 
 
 155
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 His wife (that left him eight years ago) has just married 
 
 a sailor 
 
 He heard from his brother about it 
 And he'll be free very soon, 
 After which we shall live in Plymouth at the fried 
 
 fish shop his brother is leaving. 
 Sister Lizzie can say what she likes 
 Just 'coz she came in unexpectedly one evening when 
 
 Dad was away 
 (Folks ought to knock) 
 But Jeff Sharpies has spoilt her, so she's suspicious of 
 
 everybody. 
 
 I've a right to do what I like, 
 And he can't marry me straight away because it would 
 
 be bigamy. 
 
 no. ELIZA DOBNEY 
 
 I never want to see another Visiting Minister as long 
 
 as I live; 
 
 The greedy, greasy humbugs! 
 They say the Labour Party is down on Parsons, 
 And I shall certainly give them my vote when I get 
 
 one. 
 I don't believe Dad's any fonder of 'em than 
 
 me, 
 Only he lives on the Baptists' trade and daren't say 
 
 nothing : 
 
 It's mother they get over 
 With ' Sister ' here and ' Sister ' there, 
 While they help themselves to more cream 
 And rave against the Vicar or the Roman Catholics. 
 (Mother's certain they're coming back, 
 And she'll be burnt alive in the Abbey Field.) 
 I wish I was out of it all, 
 Only George is scared to death of his father 
 
 150
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 And Mr Todd's scared to death of anything not 
 
 respectable. 
 
 Nelly's affair is a great trial 
 And may ruin my chances altogether: 
 Fancy being caught in a rhubarb-bed! 
 Herbert should have told her to be more careful. 
 Jennie Smithson says the Key girl's rushing round 
 
 telling every one; 
 
 Though she's no occasion to give herself airs 
 The baby-snatcher! 
 
 Something must be done about George, however, 
 Who's as weak as water: 
 If old Mr Todd heard he'd got me into trouble he'd 
 
 consent quick enough, to hide the scandal ; 
 And we must see what can be arranged: 
 I dropped George a hint yesterday. 
 
 1 1 1 . BILL OVERTON 
 
 Herbert Dobney's threatening to have the law on me : 
 
 The little skunk! 
 
 No wonder his missis couldn't stick him 
 
 And fancied a proper man ; 
 
 She told me she'd never been satisfied before. 
 
 She's a fine woman, by God! 
 
 And I shan't promise nobody not to see her again 
 
 If anybody tries to make me I'll tear his bloody head 
 
 off 
 I want her to live straight up with me same as. Tom 
 
 Bavin's missis, 
 
 Only she kept on about her fine relations : 
 Now mebbe she will. 
 Moll can stay with her mother till they nag each 
 
 other to death; 
 Them Oldfields never stop when they're once 
 
 started. 
 
 157
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 I must talk to Mr Dring about this lawyer's letter- 
 Not as I'm scared of Herbert Dobney 
 I doubt though I shan't get an allotment. 
 
 112. ARCHIBALD TOWNSEND 
 
 Running a seed business is very queer: 
 You look on your neighbours in such mixed ways ; 
 Especially if you're given to thinking things over. 
 I was considering my father-in-law, Mr Todd, last 
 
 night, 
 
 Wondering what I really thought about him, 
 And after I'd written all my views on a sheet of paper 
 
 I concluded I didn't really know: 
 As a customer I reverence him, as a farmer I admire 
 
 him, as a thinking man I ignore him, as a 
 
 Churchman I part from him, as a Tory I fight him, 
 
 as an employer I detest him, as a relation-in-law 
 
 I rather like him : 
 What do I think of him ? . . . 
 Many things puzzle me in life 
 Women are the worst of all : 
 When you deal with a man in the way of trade, 
 And you have a little difficulty over something, 
 You leave it to him to say what's fair 
 And he always says, We II split the difference 
 So that everybody's satisfied; 
 But if you leave it to a woman (like Widow Hemsley) 
 
 she takes the lot, 
 Leaving you like a fool in the cart, and she thinking 
 
 you are trying to cheat her out of her rightful 
 
 dues : 
 
 Now, how is that ? 
 You can't part folks into sheep and goats as they do 
 
 in books, 
 
 Though they may at the Last Day 
 
 158
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 (It'll be a job!); 
 
 Look at Thompson Rowett: 
 
 The worst man in Fletton, 
 
 Hypocrite, bully, robber of orphans 
 
 And perhaps worse 
 
 Yet he sat up four nights last week with his retriever 
 
 And cried like a baby when he had to put her out of 
 
 her misery. 
 
 I was sorry for Tharp but I couldn't save him; 
 There was so much of myself in the boy, he scared me. 
 My heart isn't in this business, or anywhere in Fletton : 
 What's worse, I don't know where it is, 
 Unless in my thousand books : 
 How Enid hates them. 
 I'm really only a money-lender; 
 No farmer ever has enough capital; 
 As fast as they grow they take more land; 
 Hanbury lends carefully at seven or eight per cent. 
 
 whilst I plunge at forty, 
 Advancing seed-corn, manure, potatoes, peas, or 
 
 clover-seed, and trusting them till harvest. 
 There isn't even any real competition: 
 Once farmers trade with you not dynamite will change 
 
 them. 
 
 Their stupidity is profitable of course; 
 If they had the sense of sheep they'd co-operate and 
 
 cut out Hanbury, Stower, Sharp, Mullen, and 
 
 all those blood-sucking parasites in Bly who grow 
 
 fat on them, 
 Giving no commensurate service for their profits. 
 
 113. SUSANNAH CREASEY 
 
 Why did I come to the Feast ? 
 They drive me crazy with their talk; 
 Yet I must tell mother, 
 
 159
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Though how to do it I don't know. 
 
 She's never set foot out of Fletton since she was 
 
 born 
 
 And thinks the Baptists are all that count. 
 If Tom had any money it would be simple : 
 I could go and live in another town till it was over, 
 But he hasn't a penny, 
 And I couldn't save anything because I always had to 
 
 pay when we went for week-ends. 
 I can keep on at the Works a little longer, 
 But it's getting risky; 
 And when mother said yesterday ' I was taking after 
 
 her,' 
 
 I thought for a moment she'd guessed. 
 The worst is, she'll want to know Tom's name, 
 And he'd be ruined if it came out; 
 The Bly District Council are a horrible lot, 
 And his wife's as jealous as might be expected from 
 
 her yellow face. 
 
 I would sooner die than injure him, 
 But I must tell mother to-day. 
 If only it wasn't for the Chapel it would be easy, 
 'Coz she's as fond of us all as an old hen, 
 And who else should a girl turn to in trouble ? 
 The Bowleses and Dobneys scare her, 
 To say nothing of that old ape Uncle Isaac. 
 
 114. JOSEF BORKMAN 
 
 Ah! these brute English, 
 
 Ill-mannered, immoral, and irreligious; 
 
 They waste, they waste, they waste, 
 
 Within their homes and without, 
 
 Everywhere they waste; 
 
 Their wives cannot cook, their men cannot farm, 
 
 And enough is thrown away in their kitchens and 
 
 1 60
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 neglected in their fields to keep my poor Belgium 
 
 for ever. 
 If they were not such cold-blooded hypocritical pigs I 
 
 would settle here and get rich quickly: 
 But their food! 
 And their clothes ! ! 
 And their Sundays!!! 
 
 I must make the best of things until the War is over; 
 The clock-repairing will serve my end, 
 And I am safe from recruiting inquiries, 
 Whilst Elise is putting by a fortune in London 
 That wonderful city 
 Where she gets more from officers each evening 
 
 than she took in a month at Ostend. 
 She banks it every morning in my name 
 And will open a cafe when we return, 
 Whilst I shall have a little farm. 
 Would you believe it 
 These drunken pigs think I ought to feel ashamed of 
 
 her! 
 
 115. 'YOUNG' LORD FITZ 
 
 If only I could wangle another week's leave I could 
 
 have worked them both, 
 
 But as it is I must content myself with Williamson 
 And leave the Challands girl for next time. 
 She's a little peach, 
 And gave me such a look out of her eye-corner when 
 
 I asked old Rowett who she was : 
 He pretended at first he didn't know 
 But I lay he did, the old rip ! 
 Wouldn't Geoff Kyme smack his lips over her! 
 I must speak to Swift about it 
 A useful fellow that 
 I wish Aubrey would leave him behind 
 
 161
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Now he's slinking off to the States because he's got 
 
 the little Mogg girl into trouble, 
 And is afraid of the old man, who hates our family like 
 
 poison. 
 
 I dare say she's all right, 
 But how on earth any girl can stand our ' Worm ' is 
 
 more than I can guess. 
 I told Williamson I should go to her room to-night, 
 
 and she only smiled; 
 That's what I like: 
 No fuss! 
 Her eyes are black and her legs are slim as a young 
 
 colt's. 
 Somehow I think I should have been born before 
 
 Aubrey ; 
 
 All this is no good to him, 
 And he certainly has no use for it. 
 The farmers like to see me riding about; 
 They always give me a smile and a wave of the hand, 
 And there isn't a soul on the Estate that I don't know 
 
 to speak to. 
 
 1 1 6. LAWYER FERRETT (II) 
 
 (It is an aeroplane!) 
 
 I've just sent a handsome subscription to Cutts, 
 
 Our latest candidate, 
 
 Through his agent Jesse Munks; 
 
 Anonymously of course. 
 
 It's quite amusing: 
 
 He calls himself, I fancy, the real heir 
 
 And doubtless dreams that after becoming M.P. he 
 
 will claim the Earldom. 
 Next year I must help the Radicals, 
 Who will be getting disheartened. 
 
 As I've always told Wardle 
 
 162
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Our greatest mistake was not forcing our tenants to pay 
 
 more wages; 
 
 We've spoon-fed the brutes, 
 Giving them huge bonuses to be loyal, 
 Yet ignored the workers the common people 
 Who, after all, are the base of our pyramid. 
 Our greedy farmers have treated them worse than 
 
 their horses 
 And three generations of our best blood have gone to 
 
 America and the Colonies : 
 They might just as well have been on the land; 
 They wanted to stay badly enough, 
 And would have made us irresistible; 
 As it is, there are no young men in Fletton. 
 It's been so silly to let them be driven to revolt, 
 And would serve us right if it brings down the 
 
 System : 
 
 I don't think it will 
 At any rate not for a long time 
 But it might so easily have been prevented. 
 If the Radicals knew their business they could dish us 
 
 any time 
 
 By simply abolishing Primogeniture: 
 We should all vanish then 
 Earl, Tenantry, and Ferrett: 
 But they haven't the sense 
 It takes a Bonaparte. 
 
 117. ANTHONY DANE 
 
 This is the greatest day of my life ; 
 
 The Argentine Bull Importers have cabled accept! n 
 
 my offer 
 
 And I get 27,000 for the whole herd: 
 Fletton-King, Fletton-Hero, and everything; 
 Even the five men,
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Who get splendid terms to go out as soon as the 
 
 War's over. 
 
 I hope it won't stop yet, though; 
 We must give the Germans a good thrashing. 
 
 Won't brother Solomon be 
 
 But I mustn't speak of him or I shall lose my temper; 
 
 It was bad enough when we were partners. 
 
 Twenty-two years have gone by, 
 
 And he has less now, than then 
 
 Busy on everybody's business but his own, 
 
 With a fool for a son. 
 
 I shall be able to sell out and clear over fifty 
 
 thousand, 
 
 Which isn't so bad when you look where I began. 
 I can carry out my dream of buying Joe Thomson's 
 
 house, 
 
 Who's on his last legs ; 
 
 I shall pay him enough to cover the mortgage twice over, 
 So that I can live retired in the best house in Fletton 
 As a gentleman at large, 
 Taking the shooting in Thorpe Fen; 
 And if the eldest Mogg cares to be my second wife 
 I may get another boy. 
 Wouldn't my wretched son be mad! 
 Judah ran away with the Irish governess who was so 
 
 fond of me, 
 
 And drove with me everywhere in the hooded gig, 
 In my poor crazed wife's time, 
 Till he came home from the Agricultural College and 
 
 got round her. 
 
 1 1 8. JESSE MUNKS 
 
 It's lucky my living comes from poor folks 
 Or I shouldn't be able to carry on the Cause; 
 
 But even if they turn me out of this lodging 
 
 164
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 I can stay with Waddy, who isn't tied like the 
 
 Atkins. 
 
 That's the best of being a bachelor, 
 Waddy says them that fight for the people always 
 
 must be: 
 
 You sell your soul if you marry he says. 
 The news about Cutts has made a rare noise 
 And I hear Luke Fletcher's torn his last wisp of hair 
 
 out. 
 
 The Tories are open enemies and bad 'uns, 
 But the Rads promise all and pay nothing. 
 We've one weak place 
 If it gets out that we want the Government to take the 
 
 land over, 
 
 Our chance is gone 
 It's a rotten policy and I can't think why they don't 
 
 drop it; 
 
 They'll have to, sooner or later, 
 Or they'll never hold the countryside. 
 What everybody wants is a bit of land for himself 
 Me, for one 
 That's why Moller Holmes is doing so well with his 
 
 Union. 
 
 The other thing that scares me is the women 
 Who ought to plump for Labour, 
 But most of them would sell their souls to have tea at 
 
 the Dower House. 
 
 (I'm not even sure of Moller 's missis.) 
 Look at Liz Dodds: 
 Nobody's fought and suffered more for the people 
 
 than old Nat, 
 But she is all for Wardle, 
 
 And I'm not sure she won't make Bob the same: 
 It makes you sick!
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 119. SOLOMON DANE, J.P. 
 
 There's a great charm about a public career; 
 It takes hold of a man ; 
 
 And when I look back on a life spent in my neigh- 
 bours' service 
 
 I feel I have not lived in vain. 
 I haven't made a fortune like brother Tony 
 But look at him, with never a thought for others: 
 What good has it done him ? 
 His only son a ne'er-do-well, his daughter none 
 
 knows where. 
 
 The good old days are gone for ever 
 When Labour was respectful, and grateful ; 
 Look what I've done for mine: 
 Not a farmer in Fletton has been more thoughtful; 
 And though of course I couldn't set my neighbours by 
 
 the ears 
 
 By raising wages or altering hours, 
 I've always paid half for illness 
 (Up to a reasonable time) 
 And the same for wet days 
 (Also in reason), 
 
 And at Christmas a bag of coal for each cottage. 
 In spite of my solemn warning every one has joined 
 
 this wretched Union, 
 And asks for higher wages than we can possibly 
 
 pay. 
 
 Once they used to handle them firmly, 
 (Agitators were hanged as a warning) 
 But the times have changed, and even magistrates 
 
 cannot administer justice as they ought. 
 I shall dismiss these Union men and lay my land down 
 
 to grass; 
 They'll be on their knees then fast enough. 
 
 1 66
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 1 20. THE COUNTESS 
 
 It's time women had the vote; 
 
 Geoffrey's a fool, Eustace an ass, Aubrey a molly- 
 coddle, Maurice a lunatic, and Arbuthnot Wardle 
 a noodle. 
 
 The village is worse : 
 
 Lome and his ridiculous wife 
 
 And their snobbish relation from the Colonies 
 
 Why don't they keep them 
 
 Berry's an atheist and a dipsomaniac, 
 
 Whilst Ferrett gives me the creeps. 
 
 America may alter Aubrey's fantastic notions, 
 
 And some pork-packer's daughter complete the cure: 
 
 She'll be vulgar enough, no doubt 
 
 Not that we want her millions in Fletton, 
 
 Or shouldn't if we had any one but the incompetent 
 Eustace for agent. 
 
 We might of course buy out Marshfellowton, who 
 is inclined to sell, 
 
 And that would nearly double our acreage here. 
 
 I'm in favour of consolidation: 
 
 We had better sell our outlying land and be great in 
 one place. 
 
 The War has doubtless increased our value 
 
 And my brother says our income ought to be quad- 
 rupled. 
 
 If only he could take Eustace's place it would 
 
 When the War restrictions are removed 
 
 But the Cootes are not only idiots, 
 
 They are as obstinate as mules 
 
 And Geoffrey would rather die than make any 
 
 change : 
 
 You have only to look at his long upper lip. 
 Fitz takes after me and is my only hope: 
 
 He would never truckle to Labour, 
 
 167
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 But would die in the last ditch defending our ancient 
 rights. 
 
 121. HIRAM JORKINS 
 
 Being under a Committee's no bottle! 
 
 They come by twos and threes and ask the softest 
 
 questions 
 
 And never attend to nothing; 
 They wouldn't give me a penny rebate on account of 
 
 the flood last spring 
 Though all the Estate got allowed. 
 And if Mr Townsend hadn't been easy over his bill I 
 
 should have been stumped: 
 Anybody as takes a holding under a County Council 
 
 when they can get one in the old way's a fool ! 
 I'd a thousand times rather be under our Earl, like 
 
 Moses Skinner. 
 
 Best of all would be to own your own place, 
 Which, however, don't seem possible; 
 I suppose there must be Earls, 
 Though if what Huck Oldfield told our Ezra about 
 
 them Socialists be true, 
 The sooner they come in the better. 
 Everybody in the country'll be for them 
 Excepting big farmers like them Danes 
 Who they say have cleared a million out of the 
 
 war: 
 They've more land than they can see over, once in 
 
 three months, 
 
 While I know every inch of mine backward. 
 When you've your own show you can improve it, 
 'Coz all you put into it is yours; 
 But who's going to slave for a Committee ? 
 It pays you better to get what you can out of one 
 
 holding and go to another. 
 168
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 122. ETHEL ROWETT 
 
 It's dreadful to have a beast for a father, 
 
 And can't get away from him; 
 
 He sits with his legs sprawled across the hearth 
 
 And talks all day about how much cleverer he is than 
 
 anybody else. 
 
 I could cut his throat with a carving knife! 
 He's always egging me on to marry Abe Smart, 
 As if he hadn't cured me of wanting to marry anybody 
 (Now Aaron Tharp's gone); 
 I'd rather sell myself in the streets of London like 
 
 Annie 
 
 Than be shut up all night with such as him. 
 I shouldn't do like Annie and sell myself cheap, 
 But dear, like Mrs Borkman, 
 Who, I must say, I admire: 
 She does what no one in Fletton ever did 
 Looks facts in the face. 
 
 When I caught Dad creeping out of the kitchen attic, 
 Trying not to rattle the latch, 
 Why didn't he brazen it out, instead of saying Lizzie 
 
 Wells had been taken ill 
 And that he'd heard her calling out 
 But she was easier now, 
 Little knowing I'd been watching for a good twenty 
 
 minutes through the keyhole: 
 She's nothing but a child from school 
 And may well be ill presently by what I saw. 
 
 123. HERBERT DOBNEY 
 
 It's fine to sit like a spider in the middle of a web : 
 What's done here touches everybody down to the 
 least,
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 And I may be said to be the real Owner, 
 
 Seeing the reins pass through my hands. 
 
 Leaving Dad, to be clerk here, was a good stroke, 
 
 'Coz the old shop's on its last legs 
 
 And I reckon John Overton's been draining Dad of 
 
 late. 
 
 The Agent values me immensely, 
 As well he might: 
 
 It's me that manages the Estate while he's golfing. 
 What a fool a gentleman can be at business, 
 And he doesn't even notice his wife's carryings-on. 
 Mebbe, though, that's what he thinks of me, 
 As if I wasn't only too glad of a chance to be shut of 
 
 Nell. 
 
 I thought her a great catch when I married her, 
 She being related to rich Farmer Waddy 
 (Whose wife wears the breeches) 
 And I thought it would help me to get a farm myself; 
 But I found they set no store by her, 
 At which I'm not now surprised: 
 She's a greedy, idle, overgrown fool. 
 Lawyer Ferrett thinks I may get enough out of that 
 
 hulking Overton 
 To pay the cost of a divorce ; 
 Seeing they were caught in the very act in Stower's 
 
 garden there ought to be no difficulty. 
 I must get hold of all the cash I can though : 
 George Todd was the last I shall let off with ten 
 
 pounds ; 
 
 It's worth twenty to have my good services here, 
 As Nehemiah Stennett will find out at Michaelmas; 
 And if Anthony Dane retires I shall get a hundred out 
 
 of some one. 
 
 170
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 124. ADAH WILLIAMSON 
 
 Walter Jackson had hardly left me last night 
 (He's getting round me to get round mother, 
 Who he thinks has put a spell on him) 
 When that overgrown schoolboy upstairs gave me a 
 
 five-pound note 
 And said he'd see me later: 
 I'd liked to have boxed his ears 
 But I don't want to lose the place, 
 I shouldn't be near the Viscount then 
 (He's going soon enough). 
 I'm swapping rooms with Tilly Bones, the new 
 
 scullery maid, 
 
 Who's as rough and raw as a beetroot, 
 And little Fitz is welcome to what he gets. 
 Why can't mother give me a spell to hold the 
 
 Viscount ? 
 
 I'd sell my soul to get him, 
 Even for a week, 
 And he wouldn't leave me after. 
 Walter heard Tubby Ambrose talking to himself down 
 
 by Long Wood, 
 And from what he gathered, Dolph Swift is up to 
 
 some mischief: 
 
 Master Dolph had better be careful 
 Or I shall set sister Leah's Tom on to him. 
 
 125. OLIVER BARLEY 
 
 Thanks to Mr Woolerton and Providence 
 
 I was turned from my drinking ways 
 
 To become the smartest pig-jobber in Fletton, 
 
 And I shall soon beat brother Alec if he isn't careful, 
 
 Alec goes on too loud about Game, 
 
 171
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Which does him no good in a place like this 
 
 Where we're all under one man, 
 
 Who, say what you will, is a good one. 
 
 That's not the way to get a farm. 
 
 I'd like to get Alec to sign the pledge 
 
 But he's a hardened sinner and only asks me to have 
 
 another, 
 
 As if the sight of beer didn't make me tremble. 
 It was the drowning of Jerry Bellamy that turned 
 
 me; 
 
 We fell in together, 
 And when Mrs Bellamy caught hold of one of us she 
 
 found it was me 
 Which wasn't a bad thing for her 
 While I've become a regular attender at the Wesleyan 
 
 Chapel. 
 
 If we can get the pubs closed it will be grand! 
 Mr Woolerton says we shall, 
 And only reprobates like Saddler Jordan and Joe 
 
 Goose want to keep them open. 
 What right have they to tempt folks with their open 
 
 doors and bright parlours and jolly company 
 I mean wicked company 
 So that you have to whip your horse and hurry past ? 
 
 126. SNIP MAPLETHORPE 
 
 These farmers have all made fortunes out of the 
 
 war: 
 
 Why don't they spend some of it ? 
 A tailor's life was a misery even in the old days, 
 'Coz our folks don't begin to get used to a suit till 
 
 they've had it ten years. 
 Dad made a square-cut rig for Jeremiah Lowe in 
 
 eighteen-ninety, 
 
 And by all accounts he'll be buried in it. 
 
 172
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Our Vicar, who ought to set the fashion, is downer at 
 
 the heels than any, 
 
 Beaten only by Peg-Leg Jackson or Hiram Jorkins ; 
 I always expect Daniels to pull Mr Coote up 
 He ain't respectable behind 
 And his trousers hang in such loops they make me 
 
 dizzy. 
 When Abel Sneath retired I thought he'd have a new 
 
 kit, 
 But you'd a thought I was trying to rob him by his 
 
 noise ; 
 And they say Mogg's Sunday suit came out of Wales 
 
 the year of the Great Exhibition : 
 It may be so; 
 
 I always thought Cobbler George made it. 
 When Mr Wardle comes electioneering I sit on the 
 
 front seat 
 
 To study the latest fashions from London : 
 He's a picture! 
 And these farmers' sons what fancy themselves with 
 
 knitted waistcoats and brown boots should study 
 
 him too. 
 
 Cutts has no chance against him; 
 He's a low fellow anyway, 
 That my uncle picked out of the gutter. 
 Dolph Swift's a dandy in his way, 
 Though he's too girlish for my fancy 
 And Widow King's boy Jerry says he wears stays. 
 If it wasn't for Wallace Ruston, Alec Barley, and 
 
 David Coulson, 
 
 And the sing-songs we have on Saturday nights, 
 I'd close down and take a job under the Army 
 
 Clothing Depot. 
 What chance have you in a place where fashion never 
 
 changes, 
 And the labourers pass their corduroys from father to 
 
 son ? 
 
 173
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 127. GEORGE TODD 
 
 He's deep is Dad, 
 
 And I may as well agree to what he wants: 
 
 Old Dobney's going to be made bankrupt next week. 
 
 And Dad's fixed it with Piggy Smithson for the banns 
 
 to be published on Sunday between me and his 
 
 Jane, 
 
 Until when I'm to keep away from the Dobneys. 
 Won't Lizzie be mad! 
 
 Only last night she hinted at a week-end away, 
 Which is what I've been after so long, 
 Having had to content myself up to now with odd 
 
 snatches. 
 
 Dad says they'll be desperate, 
 And she'll do anything to nail me; 
 For all that I don't cotton to Jenny Smithson; 
 Liz would make six of her, 
 And I'd liever have had Liz, 
 But Dad won't hear of it 
 Especially now. 
 Besides, as he says, your life ain't over because you're 
 
 married ; 
 Them what has money, he says, mostly get what they 
 
 want. 
 
 That may be so! 
 I shall have to do what he wants 
 Or David would get all his money. 
 
 128. ARBUTHNOT WARDLE, M.P. 
 
 The news about this fellow Cutts is almost too good 
 
 to be true! 
 
 How foolish it is to get in a panic 
 Because the Socialists carry a few towns; 
 
 174
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 We shall always keep the land, 
 
 Thanks to their idiotic idea of nationalising it. 
 
 I'm afraid our poor old Radical Scarecrow will be dis- 
 heartened 
 
 And may throw up the sponge, 
 
 Which would be awkward, 
 
 Especially as we've got several streets of Bly in the 
 constituency. 
 
 I must talk to the Countess to-day about sending help 
 to Bennington's agent Fletcher; 
 
 A touch of the Socialist Bogey should suffice for the 
 hard-mouthed cranky old she-devil. 
 
 I must say I agree to some extent with Ferrett, 
 
 W T ho's no fool: 
 
 The Countess would do well to listen to him 
 
 Only she's so pig-headed, 
 
 Thinking the Morning Post's inspired 
 
 Because Victoria used to swear by it. 
 
 We haven't done enough for the working class: 
 
 There's been no need to drive them to the Rads 
 
 With whom they have nothing in common; 
 
 We should have seen that they had better conditions 
 
 Instead of waiting to have them forced on us. 
 
 Where Ferrett's mad is wanting to give them 
 land: 
 
 That would never do; 
 
 It would upset the System. 
 
 What a joke this rant about democracy is! 
 
 We keep quietly along and it makes no differ- 
 ence: 
 
 As somebody said in the ' House ' lately 
 
 The more you change it, the more it's the same 
 thing : 
 
 That hits off Old England to a T. 
 
 175
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 129. THE VICAR 
 
 If only I had my life over again, 
 
 The Church is the last thing I should try; 
 
 It's been one long struggle with poverty. 
 
 I am surrounded by Nonconformists 
 
 Mostly well-to-do tradespeople and arrogant farmers, 
 
 Labourers who are bigoted Methodists, 
 
 And the Family who are patronising and mean. 
 
 Pinch, Pretend, and Struggle, 
 
 Struggle, Pretend, and Pinch, 
 
 Whilst your heart aches and your boots always want 
 mending. 
 
 That surly Cobbler George keeps raising his prices 
 
 He takes after his father, the wicked old bargeman 
 
 And I can only shop with Church people like the 
 Wilders or Pottertons 
 
 Instead of getting better goods at less cost from Mrs 
 Woolerton. 
 
 You'd think the Earl would increase this endowment, 
 
 But there's an unexpected strain of parsimony in the 
 Cootes ; 
 
 They even save their threepenny pieces for the offer- 
 tory. 
 
 How can I make ends meet on under three hundred a 
 year, 
 
 When seventy goes to pay off my predecessor's im- 
 provements, 
 
 And Income Tax and Repairs take a good slice of the 
 remainder, 
 
 Leaving me relatively poorer than Joseph Makins, 
 
 Who, I notice, spends half his time in the Golden 
 Cross. 
 
 If my sister Adela hadn't helped me recently 
 
 I should have come to a standstill. 
 
 It's so many years since I had a new suit 
 
 176
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 That I daren't look Maplethorpe in the face. 
 
 Black Betty thinks she put a curse on me: 
 
 There is a curse on me: 
 
 It was put on by the Bishop at my Induction, 
 
 And will never be lifted unless I copy that North- 
 country Rector 
 
 And bolt to Australia with some one who would love 
 me for myself alone, 
 
 And not for the position of Vicar's wife in an aristo- 
 cratic neighbourhood. 
 
 Adela ought to change places with me, 
 
 This suits her down to the ground, 
 
 Whilst I long to sit in my shirt at a Club-Feast dinner 
 with a pot of beer and a girl on my knee, not 
 caring a carrot who saw me, and eat and drink 
 without any thought for the morrow. 
 
 130. ALBERT COOK, JR. 
 
 All the school reckon Mrs Dring's cleverer'n Mr 
 
 Bring, 
 
 Who forgets what he's doing in the middle of a class 
 While we chuck paper darts about 
 Till he wakes up and raps on the desk. 
 Joey Cullen says he's asleep with his eyes open ; 
 It may be so; 
 Horses sleep standing up. 
 Yesterday afternoon he went off with old Mr 
 
 Lowe, 
 And Mrs Bring asked me to stop behind to help her 
 
 move the kitchen-dresser: 
 I didn't want to stop because it's Feast- Week, 
 And sometimes if you're down early and help the 
 
 show-men to carry water they let you in free, 
 But she said I shouldn't lose by it . 
 
 So I counted on getting a penny. 
 
 177
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 When we'd moved the dresser and then moved it 
 back because she'd changed her mind, 
 
 She put her arm round my neck and gave me a kiss 
 
 And slipped her other hand in my trousers pocket: 
 
 After I'd gone I found a shilling there 
 
 I wonder why she wished I was older; 
 
 I'm thirteen on Tuesday. 
 
 Shan't I have a time at the Feast to-night! 
 
 I shall go straight to the Pictures, 
 
 And then the Boxing Kangaroo, 
 
 And then the Roundabouts, 
 
 Though I shan't be in a hurry 
 
 'Coz I spent all my fivepence last night before I'd 
 properly looked round. 
 
 I'm reckoning on another twopence after tea, 
 
 'Coz coming home last night I see our Captain 
 
 What lodges with us 
 
 Kissing Mr Piggy Smithson's daughter agen the 
 Cemetery. 
 
 They was right inside the bushes, and I shouldn't a 
 known 
 
 Only I was being sick on account of a piece of cocoa- 
 nut what had been trod in the mud. 
 
 He must be fonder of kissing than me 
 
 Because I've seen him at it before, 
 
 Though I shan't say who with. . . . 
 
 I ought to get a penny out of him not to tell nobody, 
 
 And another out of Mam for telling her. 
 
 131. 'CLUB-FOOT' GEORGE PRATT 
 
 Who's welcome in the early morn ? 
 Who's valued more than growing corn ? 
 Who's humoured in the afternoon 
 And begged ' to leave off working soon *; 
 Told to ' go easy if he can ' : 
 
 Why Mel the unconscripted man. 
 
 178
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 This War has answered for a lot, 
 But now it's touched the very spot; 
 Our Master runs from morn to night, 
 Uneasy if I'm out of sight; 
 To keep me happy is his plan, 
 'Coz I'm an unconscripted man. 
 
 When War broke out and all our chaps 
 Went marching off in khaki caps 
 The Master says, ' Now Georgie Pratt 
 Your twisted foot's no good for that ; 
 Apart from it you're sound, I know, 
 But thanks to this, you'll never go.' 
 
 4 So don't you leave me, George, my son, 
 I'll treat you as I treat my own; 
 Good masters' scarce, you stick to me, 
 'Coz us two always did agree; 
 You're getting plenty, but anyway 
 I'll promise never to drop your pay.' 
 
 I smiled at that but didn't speak: 
 
 Before the War the nasty sneak 
 
 'Tis well they named him Cunning Jim 
 
 Just 'coz I had a twisted limb 
 
 He docked my daily wage a penny 
 
 Although I worked as hard as any. 
 
 If I was but a minute late 
 
 He stood his watch out at the gate, 
 
 If I should stop to draw a breath 
 
 He used to scowl as black as death; 
 
 Once when I begged a holiday 
 
 He nearly fainted dead away. 
 
 The neighbours call him Cunning Jim 
 
 'Coz no one gets the best of him; 
 
 179
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Leastways that always was his boast, 
 But now I've got the brute on toast; 
 Before this foreign War be done 
 I'll make him wish as he'd a gone. 
 
 You'd really laugh to hear him now, 
 
 It's : * Would you kindly go and plough ? 
 
 Or, ' If you're ready, George my lad, 
 
 To start and hoe I should be glad ; 
 
 Just take your time, don't start too fierce; 
 
 Don't hurt yourself; good men be scarce! 
 
 He used to watch, all in a stew, 
 Lest I should find an egg or two; 
 But now it's ' George, take one for tea; 
 'Twill strengthen you to work for me; 
 I'm all for feeding men up fat ' 
 (As if I shouldn't see to that!). 
 
 A cat would grin to see us here, 
 He sweats and groans, afraid to swear; 
 Curses himself and blows and pants ; 
 I comes to work just when I wants ; 
 Instead of thirteen bob and kicks 
 I'm drawing thirty-nine and six. 
 
 He sees me come at half-past seven 
 And sets his teeth (it's just like Heaven !) 
 Bethinks himself and tries to smile, 
 The yellow-bellied bag of bile, 
 'Coz who the devil would help to mow 
 If I should leave he doesn't know. 
 
 Nobody else would help him now 
 
 Not if he paid 'em ever so; 
 
 This is my chance, it's come at last, 
 
 To square myself for what be past ; 
 
 1 80
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 He pays and groans, afraid to squeak : 
 I raise my wages every week. 
 
 A shilling every week I raise 
 
 While poor old Jimmie grunts and prays; 
 
 I tell him every now and then 
 
 I'm off to work in Hordle Fen; 
 
 Who bids the most and pays enow 
 
 Will have me for the next week through. 
 
 That almost scares him off his head 
 But Jimmie needn't have no dread, 
 I'm going to stop and pay him out, 
 The wankle wizened little lout; 
 This is my time for laying hold; 
 I wouldn't leave for minted gold. 
 
 Now as the harvest's coming on 
 I rest on Saturday afternoon, 
 On Sunday in the Master's trap 
 I set off with another chap 
 To keep myself from getting stale : 
 Our Master finds cigars and ale. 
 
 My money isn't squandered though, 
 These happy times is sure to go; 
 And when the Army's landed home 
 Our Master thinks his time will come; 
 I know his nasty cunning tricks : 
 He'll cut us down to twelve-and-six. 
 
 But not for George what knows too much 
 To get his arm fast in a crutch; 
 I'm laying by each week a pound, 
 And when that time has come around, 
 With my best thanks to Cunning Jim 
 I'm going to say Good-bye to him. 
 
 181
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 132. TOM BARKS 
 
 Mester Bowles is a good mester but the Missis is 
 
 better ; 
 Since I got my legs under her table I've put on over 
 
 three stone, 
 
 And she says she can hear me growing. 
 I'm glad I came here instead of joining brother Joe, 
 Who leads a rare life but will land in jail ; 
 While George's job is so soft he'll never get out 
 
 of it. 
 
 It was through ' living in ' here that I met Sophie; 
 Fancy me walking out with the Missis's sister! 
 Though, thank goodness, she ain't stuck up; 
 And after all her sister Mag married Lynn Stower 
 Who's only a publican, 
 And her Uncle Obadiah mends the roads. 
 Albert Hodgson's promised to help me to get a bit of 
 
 land at Hordle the year after next, 
 When we shall marry and make a start with old John's 
 
 help. 
 Our Missis as good as told Sophie the Mester will 
 
 lend a hand too : 
 Once started on my own I shall never look back. 
 
 133. AMELIA OLDFIELD 
 
 I was near to agreeing with Huck that Moll should go 
 
 back, 
 But brother Thompson's not the one to say a man 
 
 can do as he likes, 
 Or talk about a wife's duty, 
 Or say it probably wasn't Bill's fault: 
 I know more about Thompson's home life than he 
 
 thinks. 
 
 182
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 As for Mrs Lome, 
 
 Seeing how things are between Huck and the Vicar 
 
 You'd a thought she'd a kept away; 
 
 But she never did know her place. 
 
 Us Rowetts are an old family and as good as hers, 
 
 if she did nobble a parson. 
 Sister Dora says she braunges into their house just 
 
 the same, 
 
 But Joe Elvin never stood up to nobody: 
 I told her quick to mind her own business 
 Moll shall stay here as long as she wants. 
 
 134. THE EARL (II) 
 
 (I must have been dreaming when that aeroplane 
 
 startled me.) 
 I speak in the House on Wednesday against that 
 
 wretched Herries, 
 Who, worse than any foe, stabs his own in the 
 
 back, 
 
 Advocating an advanced programme for the land. 
 The atmosphere of our Chamber has been sufficient 
 
 heretofore to cool the hottest brain, 
 But this half- Jew, half- Welshman outraves the Premier 
 
 at his worst. 
 I have primed myself with excellent arguments from 
 
 the Fabians, 
 Who prove that peasant-proprietorship is uneconomic, 
 
 reactionary, and against the interests of the 
 
 State. 
 They draw false conclusions from these excellent 
 
 premises, 
 
 Wishing the State to be the Owner, 
 But that is capable of instant rebuttal, 
 And I can show that the personal landlord is better 
 
 than any Controller, 
 
 183
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Just as I can ridicule their screams against the bene- 
 ficient policy of the Enclosure Acts. 
 
 Herries little dreams that I shall spike his guns with 
 quotations from Sidney Webb and Hilaire 
 Belloc. 
 
 We gave ground to Manchester for a century, 
 
 And what has Manchester made of England ? 
 
 Its vile cities give answer 
 
 With their sunless tenements and harvest of stunted 
 slaves. 
 
 Trade-and-the-Flag, Commerce-and-Colonies, Inter- 
 national Financiers, Jews in the Upper- 
 Chamber, Clerks in the Lower, 
 
 That's Manchester's century of Imperial Democracy, 
 
 Culminating naturally in an Imperial War 
 
 With Conscript Armies replacing our Fleet 
 
 Which will probably bleed us to death. 
 
 Give me Little England, 
 
 The England of the Seventeenth Century 
 
 Merrie England 
 
 With a contented flourishing population of about ten 
 millions. 
 
 Let us regather under the banner of our great leaders 
 Salisbury and Lansdowne 
 
 Who stood, and stand, for principles coherent and 
 continuous. 
 
 We want no understanding with hostile Parties, 
 
 No entanglement with unreliable Frenchmen or 
 Americans : 
 
 The Landed Aristocracy made England great; 
 
 It kept her great, and will save her from disaster, 
 
 If only to herself she will be true. 
 
 184
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 135. TOM BURROWS 
 
 Nothing's nicer than a fresh-turned field 
 
 When the soil's warm and loamy, 
 
 With the furrows straight as if they was ruled, 
 
 And the birds all after the worms; 
 
 You'd think they enjoyed it the way they sing; 
 
 Mister Tharp used to say so: 
 
 He'd walk beside me by the hour 
 
 While I learned him a lot of the old songs. 
 
 I went Carol-singing with Dad and Blind Johnny as 
 
 soon as I could walk; 
 Now I'm doing two men's work, 
 But it's better'n having a leg shot off by the Germans. 
 I might even have been up in yon aeroplane! 
 Mister Pinion fought well to keep me 
 And I don't see, 
 
 As I tell Jesse Munks and Moller Holmes, 
 Why I should join a Union to fight him. 
 I've no fault to find with the gentry; 
 The Earl's done me no harm, 
 And Parson was very kind to Maria last winter. 
 I should like an allotment of course : 
 Old John, our foreman, what thinks himself so clever, 
 (Though, mind you, he knows the secret of good 
 
 farming 
 
 And that's deep ploughing) 
 Has promised to ask the master to let me have half a 
 
 rood, back of the cottage : 
 I could show Billy Bean how to grow potatoes then. 
 
 136. ADELA HURCOMB-KNATT 
 
 New Zealand will never show the culture that plays 
 
 around this lawn and age-old trees; 
 It's a delightful corner of a lovely country; 
 
 185
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 The servants docile, the tradesmen polite, the common 
 
 folk know their place, 
 
 And being curtsied to in the street is just heavenly. 
 Everything is the opposite of Christchurch, 
 Where your servants think themselves better than you, 
 Demanding every evening off and incredible wages 
 (With double if they wear uniform), 
 Which they squander in the worst taste 
 On showy blouses and vulgar ornaments. 
 Most of these people have never left Fletton, . 
 And many of them have never seen the sea. 
 When Archie's demobilised we will settle in England, 
 And if this degraded Doctor has drunk himself to 
 
 death 
 
 We could live here. 
 We might, of course, set up at Hordle 
 Which is only four miles away, 
 And nearer Ely, 
 But it's a dreadful hamlet, 
 
 Full of small-holders and blasphemous ruffians with- 
 out any landlord, 
 
 And a Vicar who keeps racehorses. 
 Janet didn't contradict the rumour that I had a 
 
 Degree, 
 
 Hoping it would annoy Berry. 
 Wouldn't it be sweet to see the Towers from one's 
 
 window, 
 
 And meet the Countess quite often, as Janet does. 
 I was introduced to the Viscount at the Dower House; 
 He didn't speak for a time, 
 Then asked if I'd known Samuel Butler in New 
 
 Zealand: 
 I tried to find if he meant the atheist who wrote those 
 
 immoral books, 
 And whose name is not mentioned there in decent 
 
 society, 
 But he turned the subject. 
 
 186
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 137. PEG-LEG JACKSON 
 
 Why should I sleep in a hay-loft like Silly Sam whilst 
 
 Harvey's in a feather-bed 
 With Tillie Overton to keep him warm, 
 When I'm twice as good a man as him, 
 Spite of my one leg: 
 
 I could take him by the throat as easy as wink. 
 The sooner the Revolution starts the better : 
 Joe Makin's told us all about it; 
 Everybody what works will own their own place 
 While them what don't work can't eat. 
 They make a good start by killing the lawyers and 
 
 police 
 
 (I'd wring Skinny Ferrett's neck like a hen's) 
 And follow with them what owns property; 
 It's a damned good idea! 
 I should take over this pub and make it the best in 
 
 Fletton, 
 
 And when they shared out the women, 
 Which is another of their good laws, 
 I'd have Widow Creasey 
 A well-preserved woman who'd look fine behind the 
 
 bar. 
 
 I must find a saucepan and a club; 
 There's a ran-tanning to-night, 
 And I hear they meet by the Bridge. 
 
 138. JANE CREASEY 
 
 I wonder how Doctor Walker's getting on without 
 
 me; 
 
 The Missis never could begin to cook; 
 But I haven't missed the Feast once since I left home. 
 
 Mother makes me mad with her fussing, 
 
 187
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 She knows no more about real cooking than a 
 
 cow: 
 
 I'll admit she has a light hand with pastry 
 And makes simple dishes like frummety all 
 
 right, 
 But she couldn't keep a place like mine for one 
 
 day. 
 
 They think she's a wonder in Fletton, 
 But Fletton might as well have its food raw : 
 Minnie Harker gives cooking lessons at the night 
 
 school 
 
 And poisoned their Belgian with a souffle: 
 I went to one of her lessons and laughed so, I had to 
 
 come out. 
 
 I'm afraid Susan's in trouble; 
 She's looking all sideways and never touched her 
 
 dinner: 
 
 I daren't ask her because she's so touchy, 
 But I've seen that little rat Glover with her 
 And if I'm right he shall be shown up. 
 Noah's mess is quite enough for one family, 
 I'm always fearing he'll do something rash; 
 But we're a crazy family : 
 Look at Emmanuel ! 
 When I threw a rolling pin at old Skinner's cat last 
 
 night 
 He said ' the farthermost stars were jerked to their 
 
 haunches ' : 
 
 What did the lunatic mean ? 
 I must go and help mother to get ready for David 
 
 Coulson ; 
 
 He kills this afternoon and we shall be throng; 
 David wanted to marry me once, 
 And sometimes I wonder if I was silly not to : 
 He's got a fool in my place. 
 
 1 88
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 139. ISAIAH SWINTON AND JOHN COOK 
 
 Whatever 's the matter, Mr Swinton ? 
 
 It's Joe Toynbee's wife. 
 
 Your horseman that 'listed ? 
 
 As if it wasn't enough for him to slive off and leave me 
 in the lurch. I went across this morning with a 
 bunch of rhubarb to cheer her up, her husband 
 only having gone a week, and expected to find 
 her crying her eyes out 
 
 Poor thing ! 
 
 She sat in the kitchen with her fourteen bairns clus- 
 tered round her like a drove of young pigs, and 
 all eating. Their mouths was full of grub, and 
 most of them had toys in their hands. When I 
 began to say I hoped she wasn't taking on, she 
 laughed. Just drawn her separation allowance 
 of two quid a week. 
 
 Impossible! 
 
 And no man to feed. She doesn't know what to DO 
 with the money. Never seen so much in her 
 life all at once. When I offered her the rhubarb 
 she said she said . . . 
 
 What? 
 
 I daren't tell you what she said I was to do with it. 
 A female viper, if ever there was one. 
 
 I can't hardly credit it, farmer. Two quid a week ? 
 
 Every week she'll draw it; and on her bended knees 
 that woman's praying the war won't ever 
 stop. 
 
 But it's wrong. 
 
 Woman I says Woman, ain't you no natural 
 affection for the man what you chose, the father 
 of your fourteen children, him what's gone to 
 fight for you ? 
 
 That would stump her. 
 
 189
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 You couldn't fathom the wickedness of that creature's 
 heart with a scaffold pole. She's glad. 
 
 Never 1 
 
 It took her all her time to keep a straight face. 
 Talked about how he 'used to come home on 
 Saturday night dead drunk and wallop her and 
 go to bed in his boots. Never gave her more 
 than eight bob a week to keep the whole 
 family. 
 
 She shouldn't a had so many. 
 
 Exactly what I said, but don't ask me to tell you what 
 she said then. I'm trying to forget it. If women 
 are going to talk like that the sooner men stop 
 marrying the better. 
 
 He'd a right to some of his own money, surelie ? 
 
 I told her so, John. Your husband, I says, was bound 
 to keep some share of his thirteen bob ; and then 
 she said I ought to have paid him more. 
 
 No! 
 
 I'm going to ask Parson to call on her. When women 
 begin to talk like that, the Devil's very close at 
 hand. Parson'll cope with her if anybody can; 
 which I doubt. Suppose he never comes back, 
 woman, I says solemn-like. He'll come back 
 fast enough, she says; he always turns up. And 
 if he don't, she says, there's a pension. 
 
 Of course, farmer, it must make a strange difference 
 to her. 
 
 She don't rightly know what to do with her money 
 new clothes, new boots, new hats, new every- 
 thing. Been and ordered things by the wagon- 
 load, she has; but even that I wouldn't a minded 
 if she'd looked sorry. 
 
 190
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 140. GRANNY JACKSON 
 
 I'm the longest-lived woman in Fletton, 
 
 And when George Jenkins drops off I shall be the 
 
 oldest in the parish. 
 Next April I'm a hundred and shall have my picture 
 
 in the Ely Chronicle 
 Not for the first time neither 
 I cut a tooth at eighty-three 
 And the Doctor couldn't believe his eyes. 
 He's been good to me has Doctor; 
 Folks can go on as they like agen him, 
 But if he takes a drop now and again who has more 
 
 right ? 
 
 Amelia Lowe says she's ninety-six 
 But she only gets out or bed about twice a year 
 While I'm as spry as ever 
 If it weren't for my legs. 
 Walter will have Lucy Harrod in to help when there's 
 
 no occasion, 
 
 And she will crack up Jenkins 'coz he's her granddad. 
 Walter's a good boy and the spit of his dad, 
 My youngest, Abel, 
 Who died of his bad memory : 
 He forgot where he'd laid a spring-gun the day Walter 
 
 was born. 
 
 I had to go to the workhouse at Bly 
 Where I nearly died of cold, 
 But the Vicar got me one of those Old Age Pensions 
 
 as the Conservatives give away, 
 And this new-fangled Nurse has been very nice 
 Though she is pernicketty. 
 I was glad to get home, like everybody that leaves 
 
 Fletton ; 
 They all come back sooner or later 
 
 However much they talk against it. 
 
 191 o
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Walter's scared of Betty Williamson 
 
 As if she could hurt anybody 
 
 I spanked her many a time when she was little, 
 
 And would now if I got agen her. 
 
 What I'm nervous of is as my one-legged grandson, 
 
 Walter's wicked cousin, 
 
 Should come poaching in Long Wood : 
 
 I hope Walter'll shoot him. 
 
 141. JAMES EDWARD BONES 
 (CUNNING JIM) 
 
 I'll have my own back cost what it may 
 
 (In reason) 
 
 Sending a fellow dressed up like a policeman to scare 
 
 me. 
 
 Let him take out another summons 
 Let him 
 
 I can prove them sheep was vicious. 
 As for her, 
 
 That bloody schoolmarm, 
 I'm going to have a summons took out too, 
 For cruelty to children. 
 That's worse'n anything they say I've done 
 Which I haven't. 
 
 You've got to mind your eye with dangerous animals, 
 But she thrashes bairns till they're raw, 
 Picking the poorest what daren't complain 
 And holding a duster over their faces so no one shall 
 
 hear their screams. 
 Lottie Burrows says it's because she can't get a 
 
 man; 
 
 I don't see what that has to do with it, 
 But she shall go to jail anyhow. 
 Lottie's crazy to marry me and there's a deal to be 
 
 said for it; 
 
 192
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 She's a sensible lass and has a stocking laid by, 
 
 But if that Yankee uncle has a fortune we don't want 
 
 to miss it, 
 And 'twould be as well to have it in writing before we 
 
 do anything to aggravate him. 
 We needn't worry about that bed-ridden old sow at 
 
 the Firs; 
 Her rubbish ain't worth waiting for. 
 
 142. SHEP DAWSON 
 
 Poor dear old Master, 
 
 He was too good for Fletton 
 
 Where only ' Cunning Jims' can prosper. 
 
 He used to say what his father taught him : 
 
 Live as though you would die to-night 
 
 And farm as though you might farm for ever, 
 
 But what's the good of that if your farm leaves 
 
 you? 
 
 Everybody was main sorry for him: 
 Mr Elvin and Mr Williamson did their best, 
 But there's no help when you lose your old 
 
 home; 
 
 And he wanders about like a lost soul. 
 Fancy him in a pot-shop ! 
 It's almost more'n I can bear to serve another in his 
 
 place; 
 
 Not as I'm not fond of the old cottage, 
 Even if it's well is foul : 
 When I told the Doctor I'd go on risking it 
 He called me an old fool and gave me a cigar. 
 I haven't watered any lambs from it since 
 
 though, 
 
 My innards is salted, 
 And though they're Master Hideses that's not their 
 
 fault, poor things. 
 
 193
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 143. ALGERNON EDGERLEY 
 
 Letty says we're dining with the Pinions 
 
 And I must tell Will Bavin to have his uniform 
 on; 
 
 It creates a good impression ! 
 
 Pinion fancies his old house, 
 
 But he can't even afford a car. 
 
 They say his wife came out of a public-house, 
 
 With a lot of money to keep him going; 
 
 But in spite of that he would have gone under 
 
 If it hadn't been for the War, Mr Rowett says; 
 
 He says it's saved many a fool. 
 
 Mr Longthorne went over my place yesterday, 
 
 And greatly admired everything: 
 
 The model fowl-run, the acetylene installation, and 
 the herd of Pedigree Goats, 
 
 And will copy them in the farm he has just bought so 
 cheaply 
 
 Through Mr Rowett's good offices. 
 
 He won't belong to the Estate, of course, 
 
 But 'twill be nice to have a neighbour who knows 
 London. 
 
 He'll find out what it costs to start : 
 
 I had a tidy fortune and so had Letty, 
 
 Yet I shall be glad when the farm begins to pay; 
 
 As it doubtless will directly. 
 
 I was Professor Rawson's prize pupil at the Agricul- 
 tural College 
 
 And there is nothing like applied science in busi- 
 ness. 
 
 Mr Rowett has been through my books 
 
 And was most impressed 
 
 I know at a glance what I am losing over each 
 field. 
 
 194
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 144. MRS SOLOMON DANE 
 
 It's worse than drink or gambling, 
 
 This rushing after other people's business ; 
 
 Goodness knows what he isn't, 
 
 With a seat on all and Chairman of most : 
 
 The Bench, County Council, District Council, Chamber 
 
 of Agriculture, 
 
 Farmer's Union, Drainage Board, Agricultural Com- 
 mittee, and the Guardians, 
 To say nothing of being President of everything from 
 
 the Oddfellows to the Football Club. 
 If they paid him, there would be some sense, 
 But every one knows what men are when they're not 
 
 watched ; 
 
 And all the time the farm goes down. 
 Where is the four thousand pounds I brought him ? 
 When Nevil marries it will have to be found. 
 I hope to arrange a match with Mr Smithson's 
 
 daughter ; 
 
 It's true it will be a step down, 
 But nothing after all like my poor nephew's fall. 
 Laurie dragged our family in the mud by taking a 
 
 pawnbroker's daughter, 
 And spends his time trying to keep the hideous 
 
 mother out of sight : 
 
 What would my father, Charles Pinion, have said ? 
 He was one of the old school, 
 
 And never allowed us to speak to any one in trade. 
 It's difficult to arrange dear Nevil's affair; 
 The little girl fresh from school must be painfully 
 
 shy; 
 If we have her to tea on Sunday afternoons she may 
 
 grow out of it. 
 
 It will be a great lift for the father 
 Who is frightfully common, 
 
 195
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 And if not actually born in a pigsty, 
 
 As rumour says. 
 
 Was certainly bred in a cottage. 
 
 145. CARTWRIGHT BURROWS 
 
 I like to jog along the road in my old gig 
 
 And know that folks are peeping through the 
 
 curtains, 
 
 All the way from Ely to Fletton, 
 Wondering whether I'm calling on them or their 
 
 neighbours. 
 There's no door the County Court Bailiff doesn't stop 
 
 at, 
 
 Even the highest. 
 
 I keep an eye on the farms as I pass, 
 And see who gets behind with the weeds 
 And who only weeds near the road. 
 My old mare knows Fletton as well as me, 
 And that's backwards, 
 Seeing I was born and bred here 
 And have been coming once a week ever since I left. 
 I reckon I shall retire here: 
 Ely's lively, but it's not the same. 
 I like to see pride take a fall, 
 Though there are times when I've been sorry; 
 But mostly they pretend too much, 
 Specially at first, 
 Saying it's only a dispute, 
 Then giving me a tip to keep quiet : 
 As if one summons didn't breed another. 
 There hasn't been so much business in Fletton lately, 
 Owing mebbe to the war, 
 But it will come again : 
 There's a crop of young fools raising. 
 
 I've a nice round to-day 
 
 196
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 John Overton, Joseph Makins, Alec Barley, Jim 
 
 Bones 
 
 (Who never pays till he's forced), 
 Jameson 
 (There's a whisper that he's doing a moonlight flit so 
 
 I must nab him), 
 George Todd 
 (His father'll be mad), 
 And last of all my two regular customers 
 Mr Dobney and the Vicar, 
 Who've never failed me of late. 
 
 146. MRS DAVIS MOGG 
 
 I wish Davis would agree to go back to our old home ; 
 We shouldn't have left if he hadn't quarrelled with 
 
 Sir William, 
 
 Who was as nice a man as ever I met. 
 Our life has been spent among strangers, 
 And living at enmity with people is horrible: 
 I sometimes think Davis loves it more than anything 
 And stops here because it annoys the Earl, 
 Who's offered enough money, goodness knows. 
 I hoped when the children grew up, things would be 
 
 better. 
 
 Angelina could have that wealthy Mr Dane any time, 
 Only she's so queer-tempered : 
 Arthur ought to marry Mr Smithson's daughter, 
 She worships him by all accounts, 
 And I hope he'll take her, 
 Only there'd be a difficulty about the Church : 
 If I had my way he should go. 
 As for Gwinny 
 I thought once she had a fancy for that nice Captain 
 
 Jameson 
 
 Who has such handsome moustaches 
 
 197
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 And reminds me of our Revivalists, 
 
 But now I fancy she'll take young Smart. 
 
 Davis's latest idea is to run for the District Council; 
 
 Mr Winterbourne says all the labourers will vote for 
 
 him, 
 But I doubt it. 
 
 147. ADAM SHARPLES 
 
 When you look out at night to know if the wind's 
 
 changed 
 
 You see the sails black against the sky, 
 And, as you watch, new stars come creeping past. 
 The eldest Creasey boy used to nearly live in the 
 
 Mill, 
 
 And you'd a thought he'd have called to see me, 
 Seeing how close I am to the Cross Roads. 
 They're not muchers, them Creaseys, 
 I could have married Jane the cook, 
 But preferred Ann Toulson 
 Whose brother James was very good to me. 
 I doubt he'll be cut up over Mr Elvin ; 
 They were closer than brothers ; 
 Which ain't mebbe saying much if you look at the 
 
 Bowleses, 
 
 Whose Missis parted 'em in a week. 
 The Creaseys have never cottoned to me since I gave 
 
 evidence 
 
 As Secretary to the Oddfellows 
 And got their swindling Jacob sent to jail. 
 Brother Jeff was courting their Bess, 
 Though he didn't marry her, 
 And we've never spoken since, 
 Not even at Winnie's funeral 
 (She was done to death by Cunning Jim): 
 
 I'd rather have my job than his 
 
 198
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 It's a pleasant life taking it all round, 
 And the miller's pig is always fat. 
 
 148. ENDERBY HICKS 
 
 I've had a row with Mr Dane 
 
 Because I charged thirty-one pounds for attending his 
 
 Curly-Coats : 
 
 You can cure horses if they haven't been overfed, 
 And cattle cure themselves if you let 'em; 
 But nobody can cure pigs; 
 They're too stubborn. 
 That's why some go to Betty Williamson for charms 
 
 against swine fever : 
 
 They might as well get Dr Berry to feel their pulses. 
 I wish the Feast was over : 
 Relations-in-law are worse than any, 
 Taking all and giving nothing; 
 Isaac Creasey thinks I ought to be glad to get up in 
 
 the night to look after his pony without making 
 
 any charge, because he's Annie's uncle, 
 And that sulky Noah thinks I'm going to him for my 
 
 drugs. 
 
 There's too many Creaseys in Fletton, 
 And now the Feast's on our house won't be our 
 
 own. 
 Annie can't expect the best farmer's wives to know 
 
 her: 
 
 Fancy Mrs Waddy meeting the barmaid or the cook 
 Or hearing how uncle Jacob caught his death of cold 
 
 in jail. 
 I wish Lady Betty wouldn't call me in to see her 
 
 lap-dog; 
 
 I'm not one of the old school like Blow, 
 A quack who ranked with the shopkeepers 
 And was eaten by rats. 
 
 199
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 149. NICHOL BAVIN 
 
 If only I could get some capital I should make a 
 
 fortune ; 
 
 My potato-planting machine is almost finished 
 And I shall sweep the market; 
 Look at the labour it will save, 
 It's worth thousands, 
 
 But you can't get our folks to see a good thing: 
 Not one of them will risk a miserable hundred. 
 Perhaps a stranger like Mr Longthorne would invest 
 
 in it, 
 
 They say he's rich 
 
 (He'd need to be if he's bought Deadman's Ground), 
 Or that little Belgian might 
 
 They say his wife is living with a General in London, 
 So he must have plenty of money. 
 I'm sick of the cycle business! 
 
 Why don't the farmers order their cars through me ? 
 They're rolling in money and all buying the latest, 
 But I only have the repairs; 
 
 Of course if I get the agency for these petrol tractors 
 That would be a horse of another colour : 
 Enderby, Townsend, and Swinton are after it, 
 But Townsend's too stand-offish 
 Just because his father had the trade before him, 
 While Swinton's a back number. 
 Father-in-law's waiting for me at the corner with his 
 
 nose in the air, 
 
 Looking at an aeroplane, I'll be bound, 
 So I must slip out and ' have one '; 
 He's very interested in my invention, 
 And if it wasn't for him I should have lost heart. 
 I wish his daughter took after him : 
 Mary's always nagging at me to speak to Tom ; 
 I tell her he'd knock my head off,
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 And serve me right; 
 
 What the devil has it to do with anybody whether he's 
 
 married or not! 
 
 I don't see how he could better himself 
 Indeed there's times when I fancy he has the best of 
 
 it; 
 Poor old Ruston spends his days in the pubs to keep 
 
 away from his Missis. 
 Wright's man from the Ely garage called just now for 
 
 petrol 
 And told me, as a dead secret, he was coming over this 
 
 evening to pick up Jameson the Salvationer on 
 
 Roundhead Rise: 
 I wonder what he's up to! 
 I've a mind to stroll along and see: 
 If Arthur Mogg'll come I will. 
 
 150. MRS FREDERICK DOBNEY 
 
 I'm sure my petition will be answered 
 
 And Ellen brought to repentance: 
 
 Our saintly Mr Tyrell says I have a great gift of 
 prayer, 
 
 And often asks my help above; 
 
 I have been instrumental more than once in aiding 
 him materially. 
 
 He will sit on my right hand at tea on Thurs- 
 day, 
 
 A great privilege, which Maria Creasey and Jemima 
 Bowles will never enjoy, 
 
 Push as they may with their trumpery silver. 
 
 We Keys are an old Fletton family 
 
 And breeding tells. 
 
 The Dobneys are a good family too, 
 
 Descended from the Huguenots who fled from perse- 
 cution,
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 But as Fletton couldn't pronounce ' D'Aubigny ' it 
 
 was vulgarised. 
 
 I always wanted Frederick to change it back; 
 There is something so nice about the old French 
 
 nobility, 
 
 Especially when it's wedded to the True Faith : 
 He hopes to retire soon from business and I shall 
 
 press him then strongly. 
 I hear that Mr Longthorne is a Baptist as well as a 
 
 Homoeopath, 
 
 And though he's only a General and not a Calvinist 
 'Tis near enough to claim him, 
 
 And I will send a special invitation for the Anniversary. 
 It would be a sprag in Isaac Creasey's wheel, 
 Especially after his failure with that wicked Belgian, 
 Who, I am certain, is a Jesuit in disguise, 
 Come to mark down the most faithful Protestants. 
 This evening I must talk to Lizzie, 
 Who is dreadfully headstrong 
 And refuses to discuss her future; 
 Things are not right between her and George Todd : 
 If Peter Todd isn't careful there'll be a Breach of 
 
 Promise; 
 We will pursue him to the bitter end. 
 
 151. MRS SAMUEL WADDY 
 
 Ellen Dobney fancies I'm going to side with her, 
 
 But the sooner she leaves Fletton the better : 
 
 We want no scandals at the Toft. 
 
 What would Sam's brother Job have said if he'd lived 
 
 To see his daughter come to this ? 
 
 (And her mother a Todd). 
 
 How glad I am Hamilton Dring didn't marry her; 
 
 Poor Hammy never got over my refusal, 
 
 And Lucy Ambrose will never content him.
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 I should have liked Hammy, 
 
 But he was not only a dreamer 
 
 He's stubborn as well. 
 
 I shall have Samuel on the District Council next year 
 
 And on the County Council in three. 
 
 I don't mean to fold my arms like Hepzibah Bowles, 
 
 Who's all for show and will ruin brother Thomas : 
 
 Jemima would make three of her, 
 
 For the Hodgsons are a good stock, 
 
 And she picked the right one of the two. 
 
 I tell nephew Oliver if he'll stay here I'll marry him 
 
 to the little Smithson, 
 Who will have a handsome fortune, 
 But he's spoiled by women 
 Though that's not his fault, 
 As I told Mrs Lome when she hinted I oughtn't to 
 
 have him at the Toft. 
 
 152. BOB CUTTS 
 
 Bennington's just trundled up the Mill Lane on his 
 
 tricycle; 
 
 If the old goat keeps going 
 And if plenty of the shopkeepers and tradesmen plump 
 
 for him 
 
 And if he draws only some of the farmers 
 I stand a chance. 
 
 They turned me out for speaking by the Pump, 
 But they daren't stop me speaking there to-day: 
 What would Fletton say if I got in ! 
 Ann swears we're descended from one of the old 
 
 Earls, but I don't believe it. 
 It's many a long year since I left the old village 
 To be 'prenticed to ' Snip ' Maplethorpe's uncle Zach 
 
 at Ely; 
 
 And Fletton's been asleep ever since: 
 
 203
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Now I've come back to wake it up. 
 
 We've dished the Rads already, 
 
 And in good time will dish the gentry; 
 
 Meanwhile we'll keep things alive by showing 'em 
 
 up; 
 
 It's to be gloves off and no nonsense. 
 I know all about Lord Fitz getting Mogg's girl in the 
 
 family way, 
 
 And it shall be spread with other spicy tales. 
 They're as immoral as cats, these gentry; 
 Munks says they've parties at the Towers 
 Where everybody is forced to swap wives 
 (Which must lead to cross-breeding) ; 
 Not that I care a damn, 
 Only it goes down well with the Chapels. 
 Club-Foot Georgy's got a good idea: 
 All the labourers are to swear they're voting Tory, 
 So they'll get a holiday and a motor-ride and free 
 
 beer, 
 
 And then plump for me just the same : 
 I reckon Georgy's a match for his master. 
 Meanwhile we'll go on spreading our War Cry: 
 A sovereign's the pay for a seven-hours' day^ 
 Which ought to fetch 'em ! 
 
 If we get a Labour Government we shall do some- 
 thing; 
 All our young chaps needn't go into the towns 
 
 then, 
 
 Because we'd keep them on the land : 
 Instead of a dozen big farmers who are no use to any 
 
 one 
 We could have a hundred holdings of a hundred acres 
 
 each in Fletton, 
 Raising fifty times the food and using fifty times the 
 
 labour ; 
 Which would be the saving of Old England. 
 
 204
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 153. JOHN HODGSON 
 
 What yer doing there, Thomas ? 
 
 Washing the trap! 
 
 That be danged for a tale! 
 
 Pop her out in the rain, 
 
 Here's a shower coming, won't that wash your trap ? 
 
 A-course it will 
 
 What's that ? 
 
 Master's down the lane 
 
 And said you must have it ready by he come back ? 
 
 Hearken to me, my lad, 
 
 I'm your master: is that plain ? 
 
 Them as doesn't heed me has to pack 
 
 And go elsewhere and start all over again, 
 
 So let's have no more chelp ; 
 
 Pike off young chap 
 
 Into yon field of mangolds by the lane. 
 
 Morning, Master, we're going to have a shower; 
 
 I told young Holmes to pop your trap outside 
 
 So as the rain could wash it for an hour: 
 
 What say ? 
 
 Can he bide to wash the trap himself ? 
 
 A-course he can, 
 
 The mangolds in yon field can easy wait; 
 
 What's it matter if the weeds does choke 'em ? 
 
 You can go round with your spud and poke 'em ; 
 
 Can I find another man ? 
 
 No doubt I can; 
 
 I shall find one mebbe swinging on a gate 
 
 Or pretending to be a scare-crow in a gap ; 
 
 We shan't stop short for a man; 
 
 I could make one out of potato-bags and bran ; 
 
 But we needn't bother about yon weeds; 
 
 Let 'em wait! 
 
 205
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 What say ? // doesn't matter about the trap? 
 
 Off with you, Thomas, to the mangolds straight. 
 
 Yonder he goes, poor Master, down the lane, 
 
 Slapping his leggings with his fancy cane, 
 
 His head bent forward, thinking no doubt as how 
 
 It all depends on him who follows the plough; 
 
 Why . . . bless your heart 1 
 
 He knows no more about it than a babe unborn, 
 
 Neither who's among the turnips nor among the corn ; 
 
 He never dreams who has the teams; 
 
 He hardly knows one horse from another; 
 
 If I told him as ' Blossom ' was ' Tinker's ' brother 
 
 (What stands beside him in the stall) 
 
 He'd nod his head that's all. 
 
 He rides to hounds with his boots all shining 
 
 In coat and breeches with fancy lining 
 
 Got up like Agent, and t'other kings ; 
 
 Not bothering his head about common things 
 
 Like crows or weeds 
 
 Or drilling small seeds. 
 
 To-night he'll be playing at cards with the rest, 
 
 While I shall be planning the work for the best, 
 
 And when about five we are feeding the horses 
 
 He'll slip into bed to forget all his losses; 
 
 When they ask him however he puzzles to do it 
 
 He tells them it only wants brains putting to it; 
 
 If it wasn't for me getting up about three 
 
 All his brains wouldn't manage next harvest to see. 
 
 I do believe he thinks he knows the way, 
 
 By simply riding over once a day, 
 
 To manage all the men, the crops, the land, 
 
 With forty thousand other things on hand 
 
 What need a foreman's never-sleeping eyes. 
 
 I go round to his window in the morning, 
 
 Just when the sun is dawning, 
 
 He pops his head out, looking wondrous wise: 
 
 206
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 What's the weather /ike, John ? -fair to middling ? 
 
 You'll start the regular gang -potato-riddling ; 
 
 How's my old mare ? 
 
 The fence in yon far wheat-field needs attention^ 
 
 Here's lots of other jobs I want to mention ; 
 
 If you can keep 'em busy for a bit^ 
 
 I'll tell you later all the rest of it ; 
 
 Just now / think I'll get back into bed. . . . 
 
 In goes his head. 
 
 And yet, you know, the master has some sense, 
 
 He don't rush like a bullock at a fence; 
 
 When strangers want to buy or sell a horse 
 
 He keeps one eye fixed fast on me all right, 
 
 Saving himself a mortal deal of loss. 
 
 A quiet nod or wink from me goes straight; 
 
 I always handle him the right way round, 
 
 And wouldn't pass a rick-backed horse for sound, 
 
 No ! not for twenty tips of twenty pound ; 
 
 Not all the money hoarded round about 
 
 Would ever make me sell our master out. 
 
 What's more, he somehow has the sense to see 
 
 It's better as I don't have to agree; 
 
 When I be in the right and he be wrong 
 
 He makes no song 
 
 Because he knows I never mean him harm; 
 
 And that's the secret how to run a farm. 
 
 Then there's the Missis, bless her pretty face! 
 
 Thinks she's that practical about the place 
 
 With cottage-drains and ' doctoring the case ' 
 
 But she's that pleasant-faced and open-hearted 
 
 You can't say No when once she's fairly started; 
 
 You never mind 
 
 Her opening our little bedroom windows 
 
 So as our tender chests (she says) '11 harden, 
 
 Nor even taking men in harvest time 
 
 To milk her cows or dig the kitchen-garden 
 
 207 p
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Or feed her hens on lime. 
 
 No! Our young Missis does her level best: 
 
 Mebbe it ain't much good, but we don't tell; 
 
 It helps to keep her quiet : for the rest 
 
 If she knows nowt . . . perhaps . . . it's just as well. 
 
 The secret of good management, perhaps, 
 
 Lays all in knowing how to treat your chaps, 
 
 Most of them's mortal bad, a few is good, 
 
 And all of them has heads like lumps of wood; 
 
 You never know what mischief'll be brewing, 
 
 And work's the last thing as you'll catch 'em doing. 
 
 But our men ain't much chance to shirk, 
 
 'Coz I know what's a fair day's work; 
 
 Good reason why I started low 
 
 The jobs is few as I don't know; 
 
 I know how much a man can plough, 
 
 How long it takes to milk a cow, 
 
 Who's gone and done a fair day's share, 
 
 Who's holding back and doesn't care, 
 
 Who wants a word of praise to help, 
 
 And who wants sacking for his chelp. 
 
 Some men 'ud work until they burst, 
 
 Others 'ud see you further first; 
 
 Some of 'em tries to do what's right, 
 
 Others want watching day and night : 
 
 When you know how to manage men 
 
 You're fit for farming in the Fen. 
 
 The land ! I love it! As I lay in bed 
 
 I can see each foot of it in my head ; 
 
 I know where every sheep and bullock lays, 
 
 And watches them in fancy where they graze; 
 
 I know what water stands in every dyke, 
 
 Blindfold I'd take you anywhere you like; 
 
 Nowt lives nor moves but what I know about it, 
 
 What's done is by my leave, nowt's done without it; 
 
 208
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 I send the horse to plough, the man to hoe; 
 
 Nothing can grow 
 
 But I've the sowing and the tending of it: 
 
 It's my farm, isn't it ? 
 
 A-course it be, 
 
 I reckon as it fair belongs to me. 
 
 I love to watch the ploughing up for wheat, 
 
 The furrows turning regular, fit to eat, 
 
 All brown and mellow, straight as any arrow, 
 
 It stirs you to the middle of your marrow; 
 
 The crows behind the plough, all hungry, hopping, 
 
 The horses keeping step and never stopping, 
 
 The steam uprising from their backs to meet 
 
 Tom Burrow's frosty breath. . . . 
 
 It would be death 
 
 To take me from it now, I love it so; 
 
 I only ask to stop and watch things grow. 
 
 When I be dead and gone to Heaven 
 
 (Of that I ain't no fear 
 
 They must have foremen there to lend a hand) 
 
 There mayn't be beer 
 
 Nor yet no 'bacca (Parson says there won't); 
 
 But there must be land, 
 
 Else where would they stand ? 
 
 And if there's farming, some one must be got 
 
 To see it's done according to the rules. 
 
 There'll be plenty of masters and such-like helpless 
 
 tools, 
 
 But decent foremen's scarce and worth their keep, 
 Just as a good shepherd's wanted with the sheep. 
 It's the same in t'other place 
 Down Below 
 
 Where idle foremen and saucy masters go 
 That's bad clay land with neither drainage nor labour, 
 Baking summers and wet harvests and old Nick for 
 
 neighbour; 
 
 209
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Where them as had. good farms and let 'em run to 
 
 weeds, 
 Will plough without horses and think about their evil 
 
 deeds, 
 
 While docks and thistles shoot up nine foot high 
 And nowt but crows and hailstorms fill the sky. 
 But as for me ... if I don't go who should ? 
 I've done my duty, isn't that no good ? 
 Go round our place; 
 I can look anybody in the face; 
 The horses in good heart, hardly no twitch, 
 The gates and fences sound, and every ditch 
 Is cleaned and drained and roaded inside out; 
 Our stock's as good as any hereabout; 
 If I don't go no question straight up there, 
 Nobody couldn't, not in all the Shire. 
 
 But when I'm there I shan't lay in the sun, 
 Nor yet sit on the grass with a harp in my hand; 
 I shall be plotting as I've always done, 
 Planning and working away for all I'm worth, 
 Throng on the best job either in heaven or earth: 
 What's that ? 
 Why . . . farming the land! 
 
 154. PETER HARROD 
 
 By Hordle Wood this morning as the sun was rising 
 
 I stopped to light my pipe; 
 It was that still, you could hear everything 
 Birds piping, rabbits stirring, and all the little sounds 
 
 of leaves and twigs when the trees wake ; 
 A mist cleared off the blue, the sun was red as fire, 
 
 there was a fresh smell of turned up earth, and 
 
 my smoke curled in the quiet air: 
 Thinks I, You don't want no better world than this.
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 155. MRS OLIVER BARLEY 
 
 I wish Oliver had never been converted to a Blue- 
 
 Ribboner; 
 
 He certainly used to beat me Saturday nights, 
 And there was times we didn't know which way to 
 
 turn, 
 But he was good-natured when sober and would do 
 
 anything to make it up : 
 Now he nags all day and most of the night. 
 We may be richer but I don't see any of it, 
 And in the evenings, when he remembers how jolly 
 
 he used to be with his old friends, 
 He sits by the fire so savage that nobody dare speak. 
 
 156. JANE SMITHSON 
 
 If it wasn't for Auntie Hilda I should have run away, 
 
 But since she took Mother's place here 
 
 She's been more than a mother to me. 
 
 Dad calls her an old sow, 
 
 But how different she is to Aunt Naomi 
 
 Who was only a Jackson, 
 
 With her thirteen dirty children. 
 
 Auntie Hilda says it's wrong of Dad to force me to 
 
 marry George Todd, 
 
 Specially when he's engaged to "Lizzie Dobney: 
 I don't like George Todd, 
 And Lizzie's my friend; 
 She hates Violet Challands as much as me. 
 I shall break the great news to her this afternoon : 
 Norman made me promise not to tell a soul, 
 But she's different; 
 
 And of course I had to tell Auntie Hilda 
 Or I should never have managed. 
 
 211
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 We hadn't much time to arrange 
 
 Because Dad only sprung it on me at tea-time 
 
 yesterday, 
 And I only saw Norman coming home from the 
 
 Feast. 
 
 I admired him for months and months 
 And never dreamt he'd look my way; 
 He's so handsome, 
 And has such a beautiful voice when he speaks in the 
 
 street 
 
 You'd think everybody would stop and listen, 
 Only he's lonely and unhappy. 
 Fancy him loving poor little me! 
 (He's never cared for any girl before, 
 Having his old mother to support.) 
 He will be on Roundhead Rise at ten to-night with a 
 
 closed car, 
 And we shall be married quietly in London at a 
 
 Registry Office. 
 He says after Dad's got over the shock he's bound to 
 
 forgive us: 
 
 I didn't think he would 
 'Coz he's not the forgiving sort, 
 But Norman says they always do in these cases. 
 
 157. THE VISCOUNT (II) 
 
 I must have been dreaming 
 
 But no wonder! 
 
 For there's such an air of unreality about this place 
 
 That sometimes I feel sceptical about the whole 
 
 matter : 
 
 Mother was invented by George Meredith, 
 Uncle Maurice by Besant, Father by Thackeray, Fitz 
 
 by Kipling, Eustace by Charles Garvice, and 
 
 Betty by ... the Devil, 
 
 212
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Whilst the villagers are nothing but Dickens : 
 
 I wonder if anybody ever pictured me. 
 
 Although Shakespeare showed no trace of deep thought 
 
 he sometimes struck a happy phrase, 
 And I certainly feel with Hamlet: The time is out of 
 
 joint ; 
 
 cursed spite, that ever I was born to set it 
 
 right ! 
 
 Not that there's any trouble between my parents ; 
 
 Mother's far too strong and has the stage to her- 
 self: 
 
 Those Quaker bankers gave more than their millions 
 to the Cootes, 
 
 And, mixed with father's idealism, I have a touch of 
 the Fortescue hard-headedness. 
 
 1 couldn't copy Christopher Harbord or ' Reformation' 
 
 Tunny in their futile efforts to part the body of 
 
 the Feudal System from its spirit; 
 I'm willing enough to destroy it if I had a lever, 
 But it stands firm as Ghizeh's Pyramid, 
 Deep-rooted in abomination 
 Yet unassailable as that aeroplane. 
 The two worst classes of employers in our 
 
 nation, 
 
 Landlords and shipowners, 
 Who always shamefully sweated their workers, 
 Have made colossal fortunes from the war; 
 Yet I see nothing to upset them. 
 If there was any chance with Labour I'd join, 
 But they're bigger asses than the Liberals, 
 Replacing organised humbug with a selfish naivete 
 
 that is merely revolting. 
 The Socialist Intelligentza offers Labour nothing but 
 
 nationalisation, 
 
 And never faces the problem: 
 You can either give the worker land, 
 
 Abolishing him thereby; 
 
 213
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Take the small-holder and peasant-owner into the 
 
 Labour Party; 
 Or simply back worker against employer on the usual 
 
 Trade Union lines 
 
 Without trying to change their relative positions. 
 Labour ignores the first two because it fears small 
 
 proprietors will always be anti-Socialists, 
 And pins itself to the Status Quo, 
 Which it proposes to perpetuate by State Purchase. 
 Fitz won't hesitate to fight for Property: 
 That's what the world wants, I suppose; 
 Men who believe and hit hard. 
 
 158. GEORGINA LONGTHORNE 
 
 It's all very well for Noah Creasey to say the babies 
 
 don't die 
 
 (The dough-faced creature he makes me shudder!) 
 But they ought 
 
 (And if it wasn't for the fresh air they would) 
 According to all text-books : 
 What goes on in Fletton would make the hair of my 
 
 old Sanitation and Midwifery Instructors stand 
 
 on end. 
 
 Doctor Berry doesn't support me, 
 Whilst Widow King has murdered more than a dozen 
 
 babies since I've been here; 
 She attends illegitimates and quietly smothers them 
 
 before I get wind of the birth, 
 And owing to collusion between Doctor Berry and 
 
 Inspector Daniels nothing is done. 
 You might, of course, say, like the Doctor, they're 
 
 better dead, 
 Or like the Inspector, that you don't want useless 
 
 scandals 
 (At least, that's what I hear they say), 
 
 211
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 But it's murder! 
 
 If Mrs Lome wasn't so hateful I'd tell her. 
 
 She's always trying to find out, 
 
 But it's very hard to prove anything 
 
 And I don't want to be dismissed in disgrace from my 
 
 first post. 
 
 In some ways I like this village despite its horrors, 
 Which, after all, are no worse than what goes on in 
 
 Whitechapel, 
 
 Within a stone's throw of the old * London.' 
 It's very restful here, and out of the world, 
 (Neither Zeppelins nor daily papers come near) 
 Provided you're not a labourer's or small-holder's 
 
 wife: 
 
 Working women are merely slaves in the country, 
 Which men arrange and run for themselves 
 Without any half-holidays or Factory Acts. 
 Mrs Lome and (sometimes) the Countess go 
 
 visiting 
 
 And fancy they know Fletton thoroughly; 
 They know nothing whatever. 
 The only reminder of London, 
 Besides my friend Emma Burtonshaw, 
 Is that Salvationist Captain, 
 Who's a rascal if ever I saw one. 
 If Uncle Andrew has really bought that farm with the 
 
 sinister name it will be nice, 
 Though what Aunt Emily will say to Fletton is a 
 
 puzzle: 
 
 She'll have a good deal to say if I know her, 
 And so will Fletton. 
 I must bike down the Fen to see Mrs Hodgson 
 
 to-day, 
 
 She looks worn out, poor creature: 
 The District Council sweat her husband worse than 
 
 any single farmer dare. 
 
 215
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 159. HAMILCAR TOWNSEND 
 
 I'm going to Ely Grammar School after the holidays; 
 Monty Ferrett's been for two terms and says it's 
 
 marvellous ; 
 
 He's coming home for the Feast to-day with his Dad, 
 Who drives in every morning; 
 Their blood mare does the journey in thirty-nine 
 
 minutes. 
 
 And that's travelling. 
 
 You'd think Mr Ferrett would have a motor 
 But father says he's too old-fashioned : 
 Father doesn't like him 
 He says if it hadn't been for him we should have the 
 
 telephone in Fletton. 
 (There's an aeroplane!) 
 Monty'll be rich when Mr Ferrett dies; 
 He says he shall have a Rolls-Royce, a sporting Vaux- 
 
 hall, and a baby run-about: 
 
 I'd be content with a motor-cycle like Mr Bavin's. 
 I do miss Monty because we had such times; 
 At Fox and Hounds nobody could catch us: 
 We had a secret run across Mr Rowett's garden, 
 
 through the Spinney, behind the Police Station, 
 
 and out by the Infant School. 
 We built a wonderful Verdun fort out of hay-bales, 
 
 with trenches and an underground passage; 
 Lots of folks came to see it until Mr Abe Smart carted 
 
 it off: 
 I begged him not but he said it was for the Front, 
 
 so it had to be. 
 Monty was the General, me the Colonel, and Jimmy 
 
 Dodds the army. 
 Now Jimmie's ratted to Church and works at the 
 
 Vicarage 
 So I'm not so sorry to go as I might have been.
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Fletton's a wonderful village: 
 
 There's Mr Burrows from America where he was 
 nearly scalped; Mr Swinton who can shoe a 
 horse quicker'n anybody for miles and let's you 
 blow the bellows; Mr Lowe what knows every- 
 thing about ancient Fletton and is writing a 
 book on it; Joe Makins, Lord Fitz, Butler 
 Atkin, Peg-Leg Jackson, and Mr Daniels; 
 
 To say nothing of a real live Witch. 
 
 Father says we're the old original stamp that's dying 
 out. 
 
 Mother thinks Fletton's good enough and so does 
 Uncle Todd; 
 
 She hates me playing with our labourers' boys, 
 
 But who else is there now Monty's gone ? 
 
 Father says the War'll keep on for twenty years 
 
 And Monty's promised to get me a Commission with 
 his. 
 
 At the Grammar School they have manoeuvres on the 
 Common with cut-down rifles and their own 
 officers 
 
 Won't it be great! 
 
 The worst is I shan't see Miss Harker coming from 
 School ; 
 
 I mostly manage to meet her between the Golden 
 Cross and the Bank, 
 
 My heart gives a bump and then stops: 
 
 She must notice how I'm always there; 
 
 If only I dare speak I'd say good-bye, 
 
 Only my breath goes. 
 
 1 60. ANNIE HICKS 
 
 It's a big step to cut away from family and Chapel, 
 But Hepzibah Bowles and that clever Mrs Waddy 
 
 have, 
 
 217
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 So why shouldn't I ? 
 
 We shall never rise in Fletton till we've done it: 
 Look at the difference between the two Bowleses. 
 My relations swarm everywhere like black beetles, 
 And Emmanuel's the only one who might do us 
 
 credit, 
 
 Because he may get a knighthood 
 Providing he doesn't marry a servant before we can 
 
 stop him. 
 
 What the Chapel would say I can't imagine 
 I can though 
 I should be publicly prayed over by my old goat of an 
 
 uncle: 
 
 It would be a blow for the stuck-up Dobneys. 
 Bessy Key is boasting she'll take young Hemsley to 
 
 Church, 
 
 Though she hasn't got him yet. 
 After all, the Hicks were Church, 
 At least they never went to Chapel, 
 And a Surgeon- Veterinary ought to mix with the best 
 
 farmers. 
 We have to be extra careful, as we've followed that 
 
 disgusting bachelor 
 Who left the house so filthy 
 And was eaten by rats. 
 
 161. MRS WALLACE RUSTON 
 
 I wish we lived somewhere else; 
 
 Everybody's related to everybody 
 
 And you never know what's going to get out. 
 
 Nichol Bavin comes of a bad stock; 
 
 Sister Amelia has her daughter back on her hands ; 
 
 Jane Woolerton's got a skeleton in her cupboard, 
 
 And never a day passes but I fear Thompson will 
 
 have some shocking scandal. 
 218
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 My only respectable relation, Winterbourne, 
 (Whose sister Keziah was worn to death by Thompson) 
 Tries to take the bread from my mouth; 
 What right have Jesse Munks and him to sell goods 
 
 from door to door for miles around ? 
 They'd have ruined me before now 
 If I hadn't been getting most of Dobney's custom : 
 As it is we just keep the roof over our heads, 
 And so long as the Co-operatives and the telephone 
 
 keep away I think we shall manage. 
 I might as well be a widow for what good Wallace is ; 
 If ever a woman laboured with a man it's me; 
 Never a night he doesn't hear the truth about himself, 
 Unless he's too ashamed to come home 
 And spends the night with Peg-Leg Jackson 
 Or so he says 
 Though I've had suspicions lately that he has some 
 
 other bedmate. 
 
 His wicked uncle Japhet at the Coach and Horses, 
 W 7 ho daren't cross the Bridge at his very door 
 (For fear of Providence no doubt), 
 Is said to say that Wallace keeps away from him for a 
 
 reason he doesn't care to give: 
 I wish I knew what it was. 
 
 162. WILL BAVIN 
 
 Fancy the Missis wanting me to be butler as well, 
 
 And offering another ten shillings : 
 
 What about the Feast and Milly Jackson ! 
 
 Her Aunt Naomi's always at her to better herself 
 
 She's nobody anyway, 
 
 Malachi Smithson's only a day labourer for his brother 
 
 Who won't leave them any of his money. 
 
 Milly won't do so badly 
 
 Because I'm not going to stop as a chauffeur, 
 
 219
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Nor yet as a labourer like Tom, 
 
 Nor a shopkeeper like Nichol, 
 
 Whose potato-planter isn't worth a damn 
 
 It misses one in every three, 
 
 And even Morton Enderby turns his nose up at it. 
 
 I'm going to be a farmer; 
 
 I've saved a lot of money already 
 
 And I'm only twenty-two, 
 
 That's why I stop here and fool about with electric 
 
 churns and the like 
 Under the biggest ass in England. 
 Mind you, he got me off the Army: 
 Why should I go when all the farmers' sons don't ? 
 I'd do nearly anything for money except turn 
 
 butler, 
 But I'm laughed at plenty as it is when I drive through 
 
 the village in this beastly uniform, 
 And if I started another I should never hear the last 
 
 of it at Stennett's on Saturday nights. 
 Nichol may laugh, 
 But I shan't be dragged off to the Baptists like 
 
 him 
 
 Milly will come to the Primitives; 
 She's all against girls converting their husbands. 
 
 163. JOE CUTTS (II) 
 
 If I looked like a pennorth of soap left out in the 
 sun 
 
 And daren't say Bo to a goose, 
 
 And wasn't no higher'n my wife's shoulder, 
 
 And somebody was caught with her under a goose- 
 berry bush, 
 
 And I hadn't the guts to land him one, 
 
 I should drown myself. 
 
 Dobney's forward enough with the tenants, 
 
 220
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Selling his ' good word ' to them that's fool enough to 
 
 buy it; 
 
 But there's a knot-hole in the office partition, 
 Thanks to which I've kept account, 
 And I'm either going to have half or get him kicked 
 
 out, on the chance of the job. 
 The last Chief Clerk, 
 Eli Gunn, 
 
 Feathered his nest, and has a freehold farm at Hordle : 
 They say old Dobney gave him fifty pounds to get 
 
 Herbert in. 
 I don't know if Uncle Bob standing for Parliament 
 
 will hurt me, 
 
 But I've only the Chronicle work to fall back on 
 And I don't want to lose this place, 
 Specially as they look like selling the outlying estates 
 
 and buying more round Fletton, 
 Which would make this office bigger than ever. 
 I can't understand why we refused Deadman's Ground; 
 It was offered us at twelve-fifteen an acre 
 And Todd or Hides would have taken it on ; 
 That swine Rowett's palmed it on to Mr Longthorne 
 
 at sixteen pounds 
 
 To get a couple of hundred commission ; 
 I've just written a letter to the Londoner, 
 From * A Friend ' 
 Telling him he's done brown 
 And advising him to stop the cheque he'll have paid 
 
 on deposit. 
 I must now polish off this week's dose for the 
 
 Chronicle ; 
 
 My style improves rapidly, 
 And visitors like Mr Emmanuel Creasey will see that 
 
 Fletton is not altogether ignorant. 
 Then for the Feast, where I may get an interview 
 
 with Mr Morgan, and Meg Ambrose will be 
 
 waiting. 
 
 221
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 164. ELLEN DOBNEY 
 
 I should never have stooped to Herbert 
 
 But he begged and prayed and promised everything, 
 
 While no one else seemed likely: 
 
 What a come-down for one that's related to the Todds 
 
 and the Waddys. 
 
 The little toad sleeps on the parlour sofa now, 
 Not that I miss him; 
 I never thought him any use, 
 But didn't realise how little till I met Bill. 
 Mind you, Bill was careless; 
 He ought to have kept his eyes open. 
 Somebody must have put Lynn Stower on to watch 
 
 us 
 
 Or how could he have popped in at that moment ? 
 Bill letting Moll go home to her mother's made a 
 
 nice mess, 
 
 So that I've determined to go to Aunt Marion's 
 And shall arrange with her this afternoon. 
 Oliver's been righting Jack Key about me, 
 And is clearly struck; 
 He must be tired of that shameless huzzy who threw 
 
 herself at his head, 
 And when I'm staying at the Toft he will have his 
 
 chance: 
 
 After all I'm only copying the aristocracy. 
 If the worst comes to the worst I'll go to London: 
 That Belgian's wife 
 (Which probably she isn't) 
 Is nothing to look at really; 
 She's slim and has good legs and red lips but no 
 
 more: 
 If she can earn twenty pounds a day I'm sure I 
 
 can.
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 165. WIDOW HARKER 
 
 I don't like foreigners and their ways; 
 
 Not that little Borkman's not quiet, 
 
 And his money's useful, 
 
 Jim being at the War, 
 
 But why can't he act like an ordinary human ? 
 
 It was to be expected he'd want to sleep with Min, 
 
 And he gives her half a crown regular enough 
 
 Three times a week; 
 
 That's in the way of nature, 
 
 But what call had he to speak to me about it ? 
 
 Did the fool think I shouldn't know 
 
 When my room's next to hers and I can hear every 
 
 squeak of her bed ? 
 
 It's bringing me into it that I don't like. 
 Just the same his boasting about his wife: 
 She may be doing well 
 And I'm sure I don't grudge her, 
 But why talk about it ? 
 
 When I kept house for Anthony Woods I didn't talk; 
 He never had anything to complain of, 
 Only he was too artful for me 
 And try as I would I couldn't get caught. 
 He was feared I should nab him then 
 As I should have, 
 
 My brothers would have seen to that 
 Us Burrowses always stick together. 
 Sister Susan says her Mary's getting off with Mr 
 
 Pinion, 
 
 Who's the right sort to lay hold of 
 And it ought to do them good. 
 I wish I knew what Parson's after; 
 He's asked me three times lately after Min's health, 
 Looking as worried as an old tup with the mange: 
 
 What's he want anyway ? 
 
 223 g
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 1 66. JAMES TOULSON 
 
 Seeing it's fixed in his mind for Daniel Skinner to 
 
 make the coffin, 
 I can't rightly say nothing, 
 Though 'twill take the old dodderer a month; 
 But I'd give way in more'n that to please Joe Elvin. 
 Only this morning he told me he was booked, 
 Though I tried to persuade him out of it, 
 But he's falling away at the back of his neck 
 Which is a sure sign 
 (Abel Sneath's going the same). 
 He helped me often in trouble 
 There was Sister Ada's affair, 
 When David Waddy bolted to Australia after being 
 
 ran-tanned, 
 
 And we had to send her after him. 
 David said he should pay Fletton out, 
 And I reckon he has 
 By sending his lad over to run riot amongst the 
 
 women. 
 
 Joe's been more than a brother to me, 
 Which ain't saying much if you look at the Sharpies 
 
 or the Bowleses. 
 I'm sure I want nothing to do with my relations-in- 
 
 law; 
 
 Them Stowers are a low-lived lot, 
 Excepting Jos Swinton's Missis: 
 As for poor Joe, 
 
 He's been more than patient all his life 
 Reason why 
 Old Job himself couldn't a had a better trial than to 
 
 have married a Rowett. 
 
 224
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 167. ROBERT DODDS 
 
 She wants me to go to Church, 
 
 But I ain't going: 
 
 Dad built the Chapel, and I've been ever since I could 
 
 remember; 
 
 I didn't mind about Jimmy, 
 Seeing it was for his good, 
 And not wanting to stand in his way, 
 (Half and half is fair enough), 
 But I shan't never go myself. 
 Liz can if she likes : 
 Women do as they want 
 So they'll have to pray where they want, 
 But I doubt she'll work for Wardle: 
 It would break Dad's heart if he knew. 
 There'll be trouble at Chapel over this Election 
 'Coz Mogg wants us to stick to the Liberals 
 Instead of naturally plumping for Cutts. 
 If Mogg leaves us we shall have to manage; 
 Not as he hasn't been wonderful good, 
 But we can't sell ourselves to nobody; 
 And me and Winterbourne'll carry on somehow. 
 Amos Pratt, what married sister-in-law Nancy, 
 Says Albert Cook's going to come back to us ; 
 But his Missis isn't going to play the harmonium: 
 His brother John voted against her at the finish, 
 And if Liz goes to Church, Louisa Atkin will have it. 
 
 1 68. MOSES BELLAMY 
 
 Chimney sweeping's gone to the devil 
 
 Owing to this craze for saving coal, 
 
 And I should have been hard put to 
 
 If it hadn't been for the market-gardening, what's 
 
 looked up rarely of late. 
 225
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 It hasn't been so good indeed since the Potato Boom 
 
 What gave me my real start; 
 
 I was one of the lucky ones, getting hold of some 
 
 Northern Stars early on, 
 
 And Tim Williamson paid me a hundred and sixty- 
 four pounds for the produce. 
 I married Gladys Stennett within the month 
 And took two more allotments, 
 Since when I haven't looked back. 
 I should keep straight on if there was any hope of a 
 
 small holding. 
 Poor Jerry was with me when I drew Williamson's 
 
 cheque ; 
 
 He didn't half get drunk neither! 
 It's been on my mind ever since 
 'Coz I ought to have seen him home to Hordle 
 Instead of letting Oliver Barley go with him; 
 They called at the Coach and Horses, as I might have 
 
 guessed, 
 And fell into the one place in the river deep enough 
 
 to drown 'em. 
 
 Why did Ann pull Barley out instead of Jerry ? 
 She says it was pitch-dark and she only heard one 
 
 splash, 
 
 But if the truth be ever known 
 She did pull Jerry out and shoved him back again 
 Just because he wouldn't be a Baptist: 
 The old bitch thought she'd duck him for good. 
 
 169. ALFRED CULLEN 
 
 Life's a hard struggle in a place like Fletton 
 
 When you can't get a bit of land to help out; 
 
 The slaughtering only just keeps me going, 
 
 And what I get buying pigs and sheep isn't so much 
 
 as you'd think, 
 
 226
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Specially when you have to compete with rascals like 
 Isaac Creasey. 
 
 My poor lad never settled down ; 
 
 He took after his grandmother 
 
 Who bolted when Mercy was nine weeks old 
 
 And hasn't been heard of to this day. 
 
 Guy picked the only place deep enough to drown 
 him, 
 
 Where Bellamy was found, 
 
 And Mercy looks at me as if I was to blame. 
 
 What could I do ? 
 
 I'm single-handed, 
 
 And it'll be another three years before little Joe can 
 help. 
 
 I did everything I could to please Guy: 
 
 When we found Old Blow that Boxing-Day morning, 
 
 Froze stiff where he'd fell asleep inside the slaughter- 
 house, 
 
 With his face eaten away by our rats 
 
 That run nigh as big as retrievers, 
 
 I let Guy help to take him home on a cratch, 
 
 Thinking he'd be only too glad 
 
 Like I should at his age : 
 
 Blessed if he wasn't as sick as a dog; 
 
 You can't account for foreign blood. 
 
 170. MATTHEW BENTON 
 
 It took me all my time not to speak, 
 
 Yet how could I, when Poll's his sister-in-law ? 
 
 I always knew Thompson was a wrong 'un, 
 
 But this is a masterpiece. 
 
 Deadman's Ground has been the death of three since 
 
 I've lived next door to it, 
 And will kill lots more unless it's all grassed down : 
 
 Rogers cut his throat after slitting his wife's, 
 
 227
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 And their Aggie died in the Asylum. 
 
 There's only about three days a year when you can 
 
 plough that clay: 
 
 Of course Bannister Hides could farm it 
 At a price 
 He would throw all his machinery in at the proper 
 
 time; 
 
 (He'd know when) 
 
 But fancy a stranger learning to farm there : 
 If it wasn't so terrible it would make you laugh. 
 I'm off to Ely with Curtis Fullerton 
 To see Lawyer Walton about the Game; 
 Fullerton 's crazed with the Woods, same as me. 
 It's very hard to be just outside an Estate, 
 And to make it harder I've Lord Marshfellowton both 
 
 east and west of me, 
 Whose worse'n the Earl 
 And lives for nothing but Game; 
 His tenants get nearly all their rent returned: 
 Good reason why! 
 The hares are thick as mustard-bugs and the birds 
 
 thicker. 
 There's as much food got off my farm as any dozen of 
 
 his, 
 Yet they say there's a War on. 
 
 171. ELI POTTERTON 
 
 Parson can say what he likes 
 
 But I'm the people's churchwarden, duly appointed, 
 
 And I'm agen all Ritualism and crosses; 
 
 Old-fashioned ways is good enough for us. 
 
 Before we know where we are they'll be shutting the 
 
 pubs, 
 Or wanting me to milk my cows by motor 
 
 Like young Edgerley who's ruined his herd; 
 
 228
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 You can put new nozzles on machines 
 
 But not new tits on Alderneys. 
 
 If only I had a bit of land with the milk-business I 
 
 should do fine. 
 
 It's a shame we can't have it: 
 Look at my brother-in-law, ' Young ' Butler, 
 What was wounded defending his country, 
 Yet can't get so much as an allotment; 
 There's something very wrong, as Moller Holmes 
 
 says. 
 
 Our Vicar had better mind his eye; 
 They say he's been caught with Tom Bavin's missis, 
 What's certainly handy at his door; 
 Susan King heard Mrs Lome having words with 
 
 Leah, 
 
 And both of 'em was red about the cheek-bones 
 So there must be something in it. 
 Tom's a fool not to make her tight at Church; 
 She's a tempting lass spite of her eight bairns, 
 And he'll find his mistake before he's done. 
 You can't be too careful with women, 
 Specially in a place like Fletton. 
 When I married Juley Atkins I told her straight : 
 Your sister Kate, I says, 
 What wedded Alec Barley; 
 And your sister Jada, what took Alf Dawson, 
 Is both a bit fly-by-night; 
 But 1 ! shan't have it: 
 And I haven't . . . 
 So far. 
 
 172. LYNN STOWER 
 
 Trade's bad! 
 
 A thirsty looking stranger just passed without turning 
 in; 
 
 I expect he's a temperance lecturer, 
 
 229
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Though at first I thought I knew his walk. 
 
 If you had the Mill Inn, and Fletton was chock full of 
 
 your relations, 
 
 You'd expect they'd visit you; 
 Yet none of 'em ever sets foot inside the door, 
 Neither Bob Dodds, Cobbler George, Jos Swinton, 
 
 Jim Toulson, Horace Atkin, nor Fred Makins, 
 What's all married my sisters. 
 I don't say nothing about brother Tom being a Blue- 
 
 Ribboner because it pays him 
 There's sense in that 
 And he's promised to get me the offer of Dobney's 
 
 thirty acres, 
 
 Which, Tom says, he's giving up, 
 Though I can't think why, 
 For it's not in the way of nature for anybody to give 
 
 up land: 
 
 I expect, though, he's taking a larger farm. 
 I was hanging about waiting for Tom last Friday 
 
 night, 
 And caught Bill Overton and young Mrs Dobney in 
 
 Tom's greenhouse; 
 Fair and square I caught 'em! 
 It was two or three minutes before she spotted me, 
 And I must say 
 But I'd better not, 
 
 'Coz Herbert Dobney's warned me for a witness 
 I hope it won't interfere with my having that thirty 
 
 acres. 
 Once a man gets a start like that he never looks 
 
 back, 
 And there's them in Fletton would give their ears for 
 
 it. 
 
 It didn't ought to be so scarce: 
 Mr Dring says Mr Lowe says at one time there was 
 
 land went with every house in the village by 
 
 right, 
 
 230
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 And there was no landlords, like there ain't in 
 
 Hordle: 
 
 We've been done out of it. 
 Tom says anyway I shall have a County Council 
 
 Holding when he gets in, 
 Which I'll see he does 
 Or there's no virtue in beer. 
 I see Cartwright Burrows coming for his quart: 
 He loves serving summonses does Cart; 
 I wonder if he ever served one on himself ? 
 
 173. AUNT HILDA SMITHSON 
 
 Life's very hard on them that try to do right. 
 
 I'm so worried about little Jane I'm almost out of my 
 
 mind : 
 How can I let her go off in the middle of the night 
 
 with a stranger, 
 
 Perhaps to be ruined, abandoned, or murdered ? 
 Brother Joseph's bound to get out of me that I 
 
 knew, 
 
 And will be awfully cross; 
 Yet if I tell him, Jane will be forced into the arms of 
 
 that horrible young Todd 
 Which would be a great wickedness. 
 I'd sooner she took Nevil Dane or Arthur 
 
 Mogg, 
 
 Both gentlemanly fellows. 
 If there was any one to advise me I'd ask them, but 
 
 there isn't 
 Not even Mr Ferrett, 
 W T ho's always at his office in Bly. 
 How I wish Joseph wasn't so rough and I hadn't 
 
 such a splitting headache. 
 
 231
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 174. MAUD OVERTON 
 
 It's been hard to decide, 
 
 But you can't get on without risking something. 
 
 Look at Annie Hicks, 
 
 Always making up her mind to go to Church 
 
 But never daring. 
 
 The time's come for me, however, 
 
 And I've decided not to go to the Anniversary Tea; 
 
 I shall spread the reason to-morrow : 
 
 Won't there be a fuss! 
 
 I don't mean to mix with shopkeepers always. 
 
 It's a good thing there'll be no trouble with John, 
 
 Who left the Wesleyans without a word : 
 
 That's the advantage of marrying below you ; 
 
 (So long as they're not fools) 
 
 He always swore I should never regret it, 
 
 And when he's looked like jibbing at anything I've 
 
 known exactly what to say. 
 Things are going well for us now: 
 Nelly's out of the running 
 And Eliza will never get George Todd ; 
 She's let him be too free. 
 Herbert's going to get John the offer of the next 
 
 vacant farm, 
 Which can't be long; 
 Father's promised he'd make him do it 
 And in five years' time we shall be near the top of the 
 
 tree. 
 
 175. MRS OSMOND LORNE (II) 
 
 I've just read a most interesting book of verse by a 
 country rector's wife, 
 
 All about the parishioners; 
 
 232
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 It's what I've always wanted to write, 
 
 And I'm sure I can do it better than that\ 
 
 The poems I wrote as a girl were greatly admired. 
 
 Fletton's full of picturesque characters: 
 
 The widows King and Harker, 
 
 Peg-Leg Jackson and Cobbler George, 
 
 Old Sarah Jackson who means to break the record, 
 
 Inspector Daniels and Mr Hanbury at the Bank 
 
 (Who look like twin brothers when they walk out on 
 
 Sundays), 
 
 Bearded ruffians like Enderby and Japhet Ruston 
 (Who they say daren't cross the Bridge at his 
 
 door), 
 
 Those real villains Fletcher, Stower, and Rowett 
 The postmaster, the sweep, the blacksmith, 
 Hilton Wells looking all importance 
 When he's astride a borrowed horse, 
 Driving that ricketty old engine to a stack-fire, 
 Betty Williamson, who every one believes is a real 
 
 witch 
 And has far more influence in this Pagan village than 
 
 Osmond: 
 
 Something could be made of them all. 
 Literary worth is far above birth or riches, 
 And I will do it; 
 Especially now I've seen how to write poetry without 
 
 bothering about rhyme or metre, 
 Just cutting what you have to say into convenient 
 
 chunks. 
 I could add artistic touches about the lovely yellow of 
 
 the mustard plant 
 And our gorgeous sunsets, 
 And introduce reflections on moral purity 
 Using Mary King, or, better still, Jane Smithson 
 Who I intend to marry Cousin Ronald. 
 He's coming on Saturday for a visit 
 And I hope Adela will take the hint : 
 
 233
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 It's a pity I can't get her an invitation to the 
 
 Towers, 
 She'd think she'd died and gone to Heaven. 
 
 176. SMITH ROOK AND AMOS PRATT 
 
 What'd he say to you, Amos ? 
 
 To tell you the truth, Rook, I didn't take no 
 notice. When a chap's cracked you really can't 
 listen. 
 
 I says to him, I ignores your ignorant questions, and 
 after that if he'd had any decency he'd a gone. 
 Come nosing round about our Bob. How old 
 was he ? What the devil has it to do with any- 
 body but me ? 
 
 I told him I was appointed to buy pigs for the Army, 
 and he had the cheek to say as that made no 
 difference. What'd be the good of me going 
 for a common soldier when I'm doing expert 
 duty what very few could do ? 
 
 Expert duty! That's the idea! Who's going to carry 
 on this farm if you take our Bob away, I says. 
 He reckoned as I must do Bob's work, and 
 muttered something about getting my weight 
 down. How could I do Bob's work and all my 
 own plotting and planning as well ? It's brain 
 work that tells. 
 
 And what a saucy chap he was. Talked about me 
 hiding behind my job; said others could do it 
 what wasn't eligible. I'll report you to Captain 
 Wilfred, I says at last. Do, says he. I will, 
 says I. I would, says he; and at that he called 
 me a shirker. Now I ask you straight, if I 
 went, could anybody do my job ? 
 
 No, Amos, except p'raps me. 
 
 And you couldn't be spared from your farm. 
 
 234
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Well a-course if you was really going, I could try 
 to do both. 
 
 Now, farmer ! I thought you was a friend. 
 
 So I am, Amos, so I am. 
 
 'Twouldn't be very friendly to take my job away. But 
 you wouldn't get it, so no matter. I asked that 
 chap straight, Are you after my job of pig-buying 
 for the Government ? and he was so took aback 
 he couldn't answer. 
 
 I gave it him straight too. If Bob goes, I says, what 
 about the food for the army ? Tell me where 
 it's coming from, I says. But did he ? No. 
 Slobbered about the war coming first. Wanted 
 to see Bob, but I said he was at Holt Fair. To 
 finish up he wanted to know why I hadn't turned 
 special constable. I've enough to do with grow- 
 ing food for the army, I says. But you're getting 
 well paid for it, says he, and at that I set the dog 
 on him. 
 
 Good for you, Rook! 
 
 The coward had a stick, and nothing happened. Stood 
 there chalking it down in a book. Go on, I says ; 
 put it down about the food. I'm putting you 
 down, he says, for what I take you to be. And 
 what may that be, I asks. Never mind, says 
 he. As for your boy, he says, they're going to 
 fetch such as him. Force ? I says. Force ? 
 But that ain't English. Oh, yes, it is, says 
 he. 
 
 I hadn't no dog, but I gave him such a nasty look, he 
 turned as white as a sheet. Me a coward ? 
 It's enough to make me to make me 
 
 'List ? 
 
 Never ! They shan't say I was forced. If I didn't 
 
 go before, I won't now. Talking about other 
 
 countries where all the men had gone and the 
 
 women did the work. But we're in England, I 
 
 235
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 says, where folk ain't goin' to be interfered with. 
 
 Still you know 
 Yes? 
 If they should fetch you, Amos, what about your pig 
 
 trade ? You couldn't let your connection go to 
 
 pot. 
 
 Certainly not. 
 If you told me where you sold the pigs and what profit 
 
 you made and a few things like that d'ye see 
 
 me being your oldest friend, I'd carry on for 
 
 you. 
 
 But what about when I come back ? 
 You mightn't. 
 That's a nice thing to say. 
 Facts is facts, Amos, and very few TO/// get home. I'm 
 
 not afraid to look the truth in the face. 
 'Coz you're not in any fear of being took. 
 That makes no difference at all. As I was saying if 
 
 you should come back, we could be partners. 
 What do you take me for, Rook ? 
 Please yourself. But you'll have to go, Amos. Surely 
 
 you won't wait to be fetched ? 
 You go yourself. 
 If I wasn't long past the age I should have gone before 
 
 this. 
 You ain't so very much past. They'd take you if you 
 
 offered. 
 As I was saying, if I was fit and if it wasn't for the 
 
 importance of growing food for the army, I 
 
 should. 
 
 My job's as important as yours. 
 
 It isn't us as'll settle that, Amos. Just think my offer 
 over. You'll have time to get me into the tricks 
 
 before you're fetched. I don't mind how much 
 
 I do so long as it's for the country. 
 
 236
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 177. DAVID TODD 
 
 It was an artful notion of Dad's to swap all our fit 
 
 young labourers for old men and cripples; 
 Neither him nor me nor George has run short of a 
 
 hand in consequence, 
 
 Which is more'n can be said of any other big farmer. 
 We've plenty to bother us without. 
 As I told that foxy Captain who came to buy my 
 
 forage : 
 
 (He was a pawnbroker before the war) 
 He made George sit up, 
 Though of course anybody could do that, 
 And Mother Dobney won't be the least by the look 
 
 of things. 
 When I had my little bother, a fiver to Daniels, another 
 
 to Widow King, and twenty pounds to the old 
 
 man settled all: 
 Money's very useful at times. 
 For all that I shan't marry for money next time. 
 I only hope Jess will live long enough to get the old 
 
 boy's brass; 
 It'll be a near thing 
 
 They're a sickly pair, the Whites, father and daughter, 
 I should be able then to start a racing stable and see 
 
 my colours at Churt Park. 
 
 When Dad's gone I shall stand easy first in Fletton : 
 There's nobody to beat, of course ; 
 Young Dane's a calf, little Hides a squinny, poor 
 
 George is just poor George, and as for Pinion, 
 
 Edgerley, and Art Mogg 
 By the Blood-Red Beet! 
 I'd take 'em on together with one hand. 
 Dad says old Dobney and John Overton will go down 
 
 directly, 
 
 And has spoken to the Agent; 
 
 237
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Dobney's thirty acres lie handy for George, while 
 Overtoil's is just right for me: 
 
 He's farmed it well, I must say, 
 
 And I shall offer him a foreman's job. 
 
 Mine's not a bad life: 
 
 Hunting first, then shooting, then coursing, with 
 billiards at the Golden Cross, a day's racing, a 
 bit of steeplechasing, sales when they're on, 
 pigeon-shooting matches, wild duck at Washover, 
 skating in winter, and two days a week at Ely 
 with a night now and then ; 
 
 You don't have such a bad time, all things considered. 
 
 178. MONTAGUE FERRETT 
 
 Dan can drive; 
 
 Of course Jenny's a wonderful mare, 
 
 But it's downhill eight miles and you've to watch every 
 yard. 
 
 I wish he'd let me take the reins into Fletton, 
 
 But I don't like to ask him: 
 
 However, he has got me a day's holiday for the 
 Feast. 
 
 I'm glad my first term's nearly over: 
 
 Ham Townsend'll be a muff when he starts ; 
 
 You don't like it at first among so many strangers: 
 
 Some of the boys had never heard of Dad. 
 
 I wish he would get a motor; 
 
 We used to reckon this hooded gig with its rubber- 
 tyres and ball-bearings the very last word : 
 
 I wonder why fathers never do what folks think they 
 might. 
 
 Hordle Waste is bare and lonely; 
 
 They say highwaymen used to hide here and pounce, 
 
 There's an aeroplane! 
 
 And there's Fletton ; 
 
 238
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 The Church, the Mill, the Towers, the Coach and 
 Horses. 
 
 You can't see our house for trees, 
 
 But that's Ham's with the steep slated roof 
 
 And the stackyard where we used to play at kids' 
 games. 
 
 Ham jumped off a stack higher'n that with the gig- 
 umbrella for a parachute and smashed it. 
 
 There's Poll and Meg Ambrose by the Bridge; 
 
 Why aren't they on the Feast Ground ? 
 
 Mr Glover just went by on his ' Indian '; 
 
 I thought at first it was Veterinary Hicks. 
 
 There's the School! 
 
 I wonder if Mr Dring has altered any ? 
 
 It seems years instead of months since I left. 
 
 Fletton's got no lights, no water, no telephone, no 
 movies, no railway, no street names, 
 
 Yet somehow I'm glad to be back: 
 
 Everybody knows you and you know everybody. 
 
 179 AARON THARP 
 
 (Notes found by the Vicar in a book which he had lent 
 
 him] 
 
 I am very susceptible to sounds. 
 
 Ear not eye moves me. 
 
 Likes : Threshing-machines. Aeroplanes. Swinton's 
 
 anvil. Silly Sam's concertina. Jacob Harvey's 
 
 voice. Also Tom Burrows's and the Vicar's. 
 
 Children playing in the school-ground. 
 
 Hordle Church bells. High wind in trees in 
 
 spring but not in autumn. 
 
 Dislikes : Toulson's steam saw. Rowett's voice. Pig- 
 killing. Branches of trees scratching a zinc 
 roof. Most women laughing. 
 
 239 R
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Fletton Church bells (two are lead, one is 
 
 tin). 
 
 (Note by Vicar : I cannot agree with Tharp.) 
 In frosty weather most sounds are pleasing. 
 I wonder why a clear night in winter is so full of 
 
 magit . . . 
 The silence, the stars, and a dog's staccato bark very 
 
 far away. 
 I've come to the conclusion that Bach is fool proof, 
 
 for even Mary Wilders can't spoil him. How 
 
 the lush Mendelssohn suits her. 
 
 1 80. MRS^EDGERLEY 
 
 The Viscount's just such another noodle, yet he never 
 
 speaks, 
 And I'm pestered by the Dane boy who doesn't even 
 
 know what he wants ; 
 
 I hate his silly pictures and effeminate ways. 
 If I could talk to Lord Fitz we should soon be 
 
 friends, 
 
 And he'd get me into the Tennis Club 
 And Algy into the County Club, 
 When we should be asked to the County Ball and Bly 
 
 would be open : 
 It's shut now, 
 Slammed by that insolent Lady Betty who thinks she 
 
 can do anything 
 
 (She can, really, that's what's so vexing). 
 It doesn't comfort me to watch the Pinions 
 
 squirm ; 
 
 They're impossible anyway. 
 I will get in, I will I I will!! I will!!! 
 Algy's a fool, but a manageable one; 
 He amuses himself with his toys, but that's better 
 
 than women or gambling, 
 240
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 And by keeping aloof in Fletton there is nothing to 
 hold us back when the door opens : 
 
 Exclusiveness always pays. 
 
 I'm dining at the Pinions, this once, to show her how 
 to dress. 
 
 How beautifully the Countess squashes the pre- 
 sumptuous ; 
 
 It's an education. 
 
 1 8 1. MORTON ENDERBY 
 
 I've got him! 
 
 The beard bothered me at first, but I'm not to be 
 beat; 
 
 He's the image of Hosea Berry the schoolmaster, who 
 left on account of being drunk on Examination 
 Day; 
 
 And that will be his lad Cyrus what turned engine- 
 driver : 
 
 He must be on an express by his clothes 
 
 (I shall hear to-night what he's after). 
 
 What was I planning when that aeroplane made me 
 turn and catch sight of young Berry ? 
 
 Oh, yes! A Sale. 
 
 Mr Hanbury's at me to draw my horns in, 
 
 And though I explained what a lot of valuable stock I 
 had as security, and- how necessary it was for 
 me to keep up my connection, and what a grand 
 profit I should make when I'd had time to mend 
 things up, he wouldn't listen : 
 
 That's Hanbury all over; 
 
 He looks at you as if he never believed any- 
 thing. 
 
 I must speak to Creasey or Stower; 
 
 Stower's the smartest auctioneer, but Creasey has a 
 
 better connection. 
 
 241
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 If I spend a week or two in the yard here, I dare say 
 I can get a lot of bargains ready, 
 
 Stuff I've picked up at sales and privately and had no 
 time to touch : 
 
 Time's what I'm always short of. 
 
 It's no good Townsend bothering me about his seed- 
 drill; 
 
 Mrs Lome's mower and Mrs Dring's mangle and 
 Todd's jackstraw and Barley's gun come before 
 him; 
 
 Townsend must be patient: 
 
 In fact everybody'll have to be patient 
 
 Just 'coz Hanbury won't 
 
 (Selfish I call him). 
 
 As for Bavin's planter he keep on about, 
 
 I told him if he would use belts instead of chains she'd 
 jib at the corners: 
 
 You have to be practical to understand. 
 
 If I'd been a farmer, as I ought, and will, when I 
 retire if I've luck, I'd have all my inventions at 
 work; 
 
 Not heavy stuff like Hides or gimcrack contrivances 
 like Edgerley, but cunning dodges to save 
 labour. 
 
 I see the Missis squawking so there must be a cus- 
 tomer in the shop : 
 
 They may wait. 
 
 182. HARRIET HOLMES 
 
 I wish we didn't live in Paradise Row next Ann Cutts; 
 She's not at all respectable, and how Mrs Lome can 
 
 visit her I don't know; 
 
 I don't much fancy her calling here afterwards. 
 Brother Bill's new missis Nell Dobney'll be just such 
 
 another. 
 
 242
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Moller can say what he likes, but I shall work for 
 
 Mr Wardle 
 Just put him alongside Bennington or that low 
 
 Cutts! 
 
 Liz Dodds agrees with me. 
 I'm all for being respectable, which is more than some 
 
 of the Overtons can manage ; 
 It's no joke rearing six children these days : 
 Moller's very good about it, I must say, 
 And brings home every copper of his thirty-two 
 
 shillings, 
 But what's that to keep eight souls in their 
 
 bodies ? 
 
 It doesn't go as far as fifteen shillings before the war. 
 When you've paid for rent, fresh meat, coal, butter, 
 
 bread, sugar, milk, tea, potatoes, paraffin, 
 
 matches, boot-mending, pig-food, club, doctor, 
 
 candles, dripping, flour, rice, jam, treacle, salt, 
 
 soap, soda, and starch, and put something by 
 
 for clothes and new boots, there isn't much left 
 
 for frills 
 As brother John's wife may find one of these 
 
 days. 
 To be married to a farm-labourer's no bottle until the 
 
 eldest begins to earn. 
 If it wasn't for Mr Lowe giving me coal, and Jesse 
 
 Munks letting the insurance run, and Mr 
 
 Woolerton being easy about the bill behind his 
 
 missis's back, I don't know what I should 
 
 do. 
 If Moller had my job we should hear less about Unions 
 
 and uppishness; 
 
 He'd be thankful to take what he could get, 
 Same as his brothers Reuben and Arthur at the 
 
 Towers. 
 
 243
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 183. CYRUS BERRY, M.I.C.E. 
 
 Fletton hasn't changed one jot in twenty years: 
 Morton Enderby stands amongst his junk wondering 
 
 what he shall mend first; 
 His beard's as black as ever and his voice no doubt 
 
 as suave. 
 
 He doesn't know me though he stared so. 
 I'm glad I made the detour on my tramp to look up 
 
 Cousin Josephus : 
 How it all comes back! 
 I didn't live here so very long, but they were the 
 
 impressionable years, 
 And though I've roamed the world over it seems but 
 
 yesterday ; 
 
 I think that was my happiest time. 
 There's Jacob Harvey by the Golden Cross, 
 There's Julius Morgan in his white hat talking to 
 
 Moses Skinner, 
 
 And there, by gum! is Cartwright Burrows; 
 Same ramshackle pony-trap, same errand, no doubt 
 
 same victims : 
 
 It makes me feel almost sentimental. 
 The modified Feudal System that you get here in 
 
 perfection is so naturally adapted by growth that 
 
 nothing can shake it; 
 
 Industrialism is only an eddy born of cheap coal, 
 Whose sceptre the Twentieth Century has already 
 
 passed to America, 
 And without oil or water power England will dwindle 
 
 to fifteen millions. 
 Why not ? 
 When Leeds, Liverpool, and the other toadstools 
 
 and cesspools are blotted out, Fletton will be 
 
 here; 
 
 No revolution could affect it; 
 
 244
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 And though Socialism will vanish with the urban 
 proletariat, 
 
 In the year 2500 Enderbys, Burrowses, and Cootes 
 will be doing much the same things in much the 
 same way: 
 
 Especially Cootes. 
 
 It's not by chance that the most powerful aristocracy 
 the world's ever seen has placed its all in land, 
 regardless of low returns and depressions ; 
 
 The world cost of food is rising and will rise in- 
 definitely, 
 
 And the price and security of land will be steadily 
 enhanced. 
 
 Old Jenkins used to tell how his great-grandfather 
 would tell how his great-grandfather saw the 
 Puritans charge the King's troops down Round- 
 head Rise, 
 
 And another two or three stretches would probably 
 take him back to the Conquest 
 
 Or the Druids. 
 
 Shall I patronise Harvey or trust to Josephus ? 
 
 Harvey always had good beer. 
 
 184. WIDOW KEY 
 
 Fletton isn't what it was! 
 
 When I married poor William you couldn't want a 
 
 better village : 
 
 All the farms held by good families, 
 Todds, Challands, Keys, Pinions, and Danes, 
 And everybody knew their proper station ; 
 But now this upstart crew of labourers 
 Hides, Smithson, and Woods 
 Are pushing the old stock out, 
 Whilst Creaseys and Overtons swarm like locusts 
 
 everywhere. 
 
 243
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Charles Pinion would turn in his grave: 
 What a gentleman he was on horseback 
 With his thin face, long hands, hunting-stock, top- 
 boots, and gentlemanly ways. 
 
 Laurie's ruined himself by wedding the pawnbroker; 
 He's found it a dear way of getting money, 
 And his days are spent in trying to hide her vulgar 
 
 mother, 
 Who, having been a barmaid, is always drunk by 
 
 tea-time. 
 Poor nephew! 
 
 He's made his bed and must lie on it. 
 Bessie is crazed with these new ideas: 
 The solid decent things are no longer in fashion; 
 We must copy Mrs Edgerley if you please, 
 With gimcrack furniture, late dinners, afternoon teas, 
 
 and the like: 
 Not whilst I live ! 
 
 When I'm gone there will be no one left to protest. 
 It's at the head that Fletton is decaying; 
 Lady Betty's just passed in a skirt that shows her 
 
 knees ; 
 No one's against her having a little diversion so long 
 
 as its kept quiet and in the proper circle 
 Noblesse oblige ! 
 
 And I'm too old to be silly about these matters, 
 For a husband like hers would drive a codfish to 
 
 wander; 
 
 But to carry on with that vile Colonial is beyond all. 
 I keep expecting brother Jackson to marry a servant, 
 His babies couldn't be worse neglected anyway 
 And as for Violet 
 ! 1 1 1 ! 1 1 1 ! ! ! ! ! 1 ! ! ! ! 
 My Jack may be wild but he's sound at heart; 
 He's quick-tempered like poor William, 
 And knocked that Australian deserter down when he 
 
 abused his uncle, 
 
 246
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 So I couldn't very well scold him when he came in 
 with a black eye and broken tooth. 
 
 185. NEVIL DANE 
 
 I'm not going to marry the little Smithson or Cousin Vi 
 
 or any other girl to please mother; 
 It's bad enough to stick here farming to satisfy Father 
 
 when I want to be in Paris painting. 
 How can I rave over Basic Slag or Marrowfat Peas or 
 
 Cross-bred Ewes or getting the best of Uncle 
 
 Tony when my heart is on canvas ? 
 I may be weak on drawing, which will come with 
 
 practice, but I've an eye for colour 
 And several sketches of the Church have been much 
 
 admired, 
 
 Even though I can't quite manage the villagers, 
 Who have such marked faces that only etching would 
 
 do them. 
 My old master, the queer, cracked Winter, used to 
 
 laugh at me when I attended the Art Class at 
 
 Ely 
 
 Yet does he sell ? 
 It was all very well for him to say an artist will give up 
 
 everything to follow his work; 
 He'd nothing to give up. 
 Fletton's full of barbarians and I'd run away if I 
 
 dare; 
 
 But look at cousin Judah ! 
 
 He bolted, and we've got in his place that ass Edgerley, 
 Whose wife is a pearl in a swine's mouth 
 And has none to appreciate her but me. 
 (Why does she pretend to laugh at me ?) 
 I'm the only representative of the Arts in the parish, 
 For no one counts Mr Coote with his talk about a 
 
 great work, 
 
 Reminding you of what's his name in Besant and Rice 
 
 247
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 (The Golden Butterfly ?) 
 
 Who was found to be a blank when drawn. 
 
 Villages and Art are incompatible; 
 
 There is no understanding or tolerance of leisure in 
 
 this money-grubbing hole. 
 I admire the poppies and charlock in the wheat, and 
 
 the wild geranium, 
 Whilst Father curses and Jenkins turns pale at the 
 
 sight. 
 These vulgar surroundings prevent the flow of 
 
 inspiration, 
 
 Let Townsend say what he will about native soil, 
 Hes not a creative artist, 
 He simply wastes his life reading. 
 I wouldn't mind so much if I could get the Manor 
 
 House ; 
 It's a real Baronial Hall with its courtyard and lovely 
 
 terraces, 
 Inhabited by a labourer's son who runs pigs in the 
 
 Peach Garden and chits potatoes in the Ball- 
 
 Room, 
 
 Whilst I herd in a superior pigsty : 
 The Earl's mad to allow such desecration. 
 In grandfather's time the grounds were kept like 
 
 another Cowsley, 
 And it would only be fitting for me to have it 
 
 again : 
 I could bring myself to marry money for that. 
 
 1 86. OBADIAH HODGSON 
 
 The Lord giveth and taketh away: 
 
 But it's a heavy cross. . . . 
 
 Why didn't He choose me and not Rachael ? 
 
 My poor lass . . . without a minute's warning. 
 
 She lies there 
 
 248
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 And I'm left with George a cripple, and little Rachel 
 
 sick; 
 
 Who will help me, down this fen ? 
 I must fetch sister Annie; 
 She's had troubles of her own and knows. 
 The Doctor's been good to the little one : 
 Yes he's a good man 
 Though cut off from the Lord : 
 Oh, my poor lass ! 
 
 187. LT. GEOFFREY KYME, R.F.C. 
 
 It's queer to be flying over Fletton ; 
 
 I know every inch of the ground, 
 
 For what Fitz and I haven't walked or motored we've 
 
 coursed and hunted; 
 But things look different up here. 
 You can see the lie of the land, 
 Hills, heath, fens, and marshes; 
 There's the Roan down to the Brent, the Brent down 
 
 to the Gulland, and the Gulland to the Sea : 
 Father should be up here: 
 He spends his life over County Drainage and would 
 
 see the whole show. 
 You can follow the Brent up past Ely where it parts 
 
 from the Sow and winds amongst the Limestone 
 
 to the old home. 
 There's Hordle Village! 
 
 Dad says it wants a bomb, and it would be easy. 
 I wonder why Fen roads are so straight; 
 They look as if they'd been ruled. 
 There's Washover where we used to skate, 
 And Ouseley stuck in the swamps; 
 You can pick out all the Houses : 
 Churt, Belton, Carrington, Caxton, High Morton, 
 
 Cowsley, and Winch : 
 And there's the Aerodrome! 
 
 249
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 1 8 8. MRS JABEZ WELLS 
 
 Why ain't the Master back ? 
 
 Down these old Fens there ain't no neighbours, 
 
 And when he's finished with his labours 
 
 He gallops off full crack. 
 
 Them what's in towns has never tried 
 
 To live alone all terrified; 
 
 They talk about churchyards at night 
 
 Or things with chains dressed up in white, 
 
 Why, bless my soul! I'd gladly sleep 
 
 In any place what made them creep, 
 
 'Coz always they've a friend about 
 
 To hear if they should give a shout ; 
 
 They don't know what it is to fear, 
 
 But here 
 
 What's that ? 
 
 Only the cat! 
 
 And she's as black as Death's own self; 
 
 She squats all loathly on yon shelf 
 
 With one unwinking eye on me, 
 
 I wish the Devil 
 
 No! 
 
 Not he\ 
 
 I didn't mean to mention names 
 
 Nor interfere with others' games. 
 
 They say as cats is really witches, 
 
 Like Betty Williamson (unwed) 
 
 Who wears a pair of moleskin breeches 
 
 And never sleeps upon a bed. 
 
 She sits beside her open door 
 
 With one foot always off the floor, 
 
 Quietly knitting, one eye cast 
 
 To overlook you when you've passed; 
 
 And just the same yon nasty critter 
 
 Stares at me now that slow and bitter. 
 
 250
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Oh, dear! I wish my man would come; 
 
 May ague twist and strike him dumb! 
 
 May fairies nip his liver out 
 
 And leave him ne'er a tongue to shout, 
 
 Forsaking me, all lonesome here, 
 
 With everything what's wrong and queer. 
 
 From out my window, where I sit, 
 
 I see the willows round yon pit 
 
 Dark pit where Laban Holmes was found, 
 
 As some said, accidental drowned 
 
 But I heard screeching, terrified, 
 
 About the time he must have died. 
 
 Having no bottom, so they say, 
 
 It's dreadful secrets there must stay 
 
 Until the Resurrection Day. 
 
 Oh! where the devil's Jabez gone ? 
 
 I'll give him pub when he gets home. 
 
 The wind is moaning round that pit 
 
 As if somebody wished to flit : 
 
 There's things in there what stirs by night 
 
 And, if you see, your hair turns white : 
 
 Around its edge, the Mandrake grows 
 
 What's pulled at dead of night by those 
 
 Who little care, although it screams 
 
 To wake poor mortals from their dreams. 
 
 Our parson tells of Powers evil, 
 
 (But Providence can't beat the devil) 
 
 Where should they lay but in yon Pit, 
 
 What makes me squirl to think of it: 
 
 All gashly arms a-reaching out 
 
 To clamber up your water-spout 
 
 And claw you through 
 
 Oh, Lor'! 
 
 Who's that ? 
 
 'Tis something coming 
 
 I hear it humming . . . 
 
 251
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 My dear good Jabe! Thank God it's him! 
 
 I was afraid of something grim 
 
 I've been a-wanting you so long 
 
 You lousy mawkin, stinking strong 
 
 Of beer and bacca. Off to bed 
 
 I'll larn you, Jabez, who you've wed: 
 
 'Fore morn you'll wish as you was dead. 
 
 189. MRS ENOCH WINTERBOURNE 
 
 Enoch may go on as he likes, but I'm for Mr 
 
 Bennington; 
 Mr Mogg is in the right when he says we want an 
 
 educated man, 
 
 And not a ragamuffin like Bob Cutts 
 Who I slapped once, in petticoats, for throwing stones 
 
 at our cat. 
 
 Brother Josiah agrees with me and so does Isaiah, 
 Only having a small-holding, he thinks he's a better 
 
 chance of getting on if he shouts for Wardle. 
 No doubt that is so, 
 Though nobody asked Levi how he voted when he 
 
 volunteered. 
 Sister Rachael reckons nobody should a-gone except 
 
 they had land, 
 
 Which is the wrong way about 
 'Coz them that had anything stopped at home to look 
 
 after it. 
 
 Rachael's been queer lately 
 And if she's not up on Sunday I must go down the 
 
 Fen to see her: 
 
 As Maria Creasey says, relations should stick together. 
 If only Jos and Enoch were better friends I'd be 
 
 thankful, 
 But Jos was always crotchety, 
 
 And since Betty Williamson put a spell on him 
 
 252
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 By reason of which he lost an eye 
 
 He's been nearly as bad as Father was. 
 
 Last week he nearly killed Club-Foot George; 
 
 Of course George is aggravating, and would be no 
 
 loss. 
 
 Enoch has his faults as well; 
 He loses his temper and shakes his fist when anybody 
 
 sings out of tune the least little bit: 
 As if it mattered. 
 If Hannah Cook thinks she's going to come back and 
 
 play the harmonium, 
 
 Now that Liz Dodds has sold herself to the Vicar, 
 She's mistook; 
 I'd chop it up for kindling sooner. 
 
 190. HILTON WELLS 
 
 If I'd my time over I'd marry an orphan; 
 
 You can have too many relations in a village : 
 
 What with Oldfields, Jorkins, and Ambroses, 
 
 All to find fault but none to trade 
 
 Neither for meat, milk, nor beer 
 
 You're better without any. 
 
 My own brother Reuben deals with that squint-eyed 
 
 chap who brings foreign meat from Ely on 
 
 Saturdays ; 
 
 Money should be spent where it's earned, I say! 
 If Rube went to Creasey or Cullen it wouldn't be so 
 
 bad. 
 Tubby Ambrose comes here one night and goes to 
 
 Harvey the other: 
 Reuben's wife says if Tubby knew all his girls were 
 
 up to he'd be nearly as knowing as he looks. 
 Jabe's all right of course; 
 He never moves till closing time on account of his 
 
 missis, 
 
 253
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Different to Wallace Ruston who's in and out like a 
 
 cockerel. 
 Sam, who isn't as silly as he's said to be, reckons 
 
 Wallace's afraid the Devil will catch him : 
 It's more likely the Wesleyans will, same as they did 
 
 Barley ; 
 
 Though mind you we shall get Oliver back. 
 Cobbler George tells me Enderby's going to be sold 
 
 up by the Bank, 
 
 And I must bid for his potato-plough and scuffler 
 So that if anything should happen to Dobney I'd be 
 
 ready to step in. 
 
 Sam Waddy gave me a hint yesterday 
 He's been wonderful friendly of late: 
 Bertha says his missis means to run him for the District 
 
 Council, 
 
 But that's all baggerment: 
 I've a better chance myself. 
 I must slip round to Saddler Jordan's about the hose 
 
 connection ; 
 
 You'd think the Earl would give us a motor fire-engine, 
 Like the beauty that Lord Kyme's given High 
 
 Morton : 
 When the Towers is burnt down, p'raps he will. 
 
 191. GWINNY MOGG 
 
 He needn't have bothered about the Registry Office 
 Nor yet about the money he's sent to America, 
 I should have gone without either 
 Because I love him so; 
 
 When he comes down the lane I shake all over; 
 He is my mate and I shall never leave him 
 I would work my fingers to the bone 
 Or lie down and let him trample on me. 
 These whey-faced girls don't know what love is, 
 
 254
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 But I shall hold him so that he will never look away: 
 
 How I worship him! 
 
 He stood with his foot on this tree last night, 
 
 And I must kiss the place. 
 
 I don't care about not seeing anybody else again; 
 
 He could take anybody, high or low, 
 
 But he only wants me, 
 
 And I only want my mate. 
 
 192. OLD GEORGE JENKINS 
 
 When I was young we went to mow, tying the 
 sheaves with bands of straw, and gleaning what the 
 reapers left. We cut the ears with our sharp knives, 
 and roasted them at a fire of turf dug from the black 
 fen; while all the winter we threshed out the corn 
 in the farmer's barn. Pleasant it was to watch the 
 flails rise and fall with hollow thump and the owls 
 disturbed in the high roof. The rooks gathered round 
 the elm, the wind whistled through the thatch and the 
 snow covered all. 
 
 But now the binder with iron claw ties the sheaves 
 in a cunning knot and horse-rakes scour the bare 
 stubble. The thresher hums like a thousand hives; 
 gone are the old flails; and not too soon shall I lie 
 in the quiet churchyard. Under the yew-tree the 
 grass is long and by the crookled porch I shall be at 
 rest with my fathers. All must come there at last 
 though they fly faster than the wild geese; for the 
 corn ripens, the fox creeps to his hole, and the snow 
 covers all. 
 
 255
 
 WHO'S WHO AND GENERAL INDEX 
 
 ABBREVIATIONS 
 
 D. Dead. M. Married ; B. Bachelor; W. Widow or 
 
 Widower; Sp. Spinster 
 
 Cons. Conservative; Lib. Liberal; Lab. Labour. 
 Ch. Church of England; Bap. Baptist; Wes. Wesleyan; 
 
 P.M. Primitive Methodist; S.A. Salvation Army; 
 
 R.C. Roman Catholic. 
 
 AGENT, THE : See THE HON. EUSTACE KYME. 
 
 AMBROSE, EDWARD : Age 39; on active service; M. E. Bell; 
 
 38. 
 AMBROSE, LENA : Age 46; Postmaster's wife; Nee Bones; 
 
 Bap.; Cons.; 41, 88, 95, 97. 
 AMBROSE, LUCY : See MRS H. DRING. 
 AMBROSE, MEG : Age 17; Daughter of Newton; Telegraphist; 
 
 30, 33, 80, 95, 97, 106, 163, 178, 190. 
 AMBROSE, NEWTON (TUBBY) : Age 49; Postmaster, draper, 
 
 grocer, and general stores; Bap.; Lib.; M. Lena Bones, 
 
 15, 19, 41, 88, 106, 124, 175, 190. 
 AMBROSE, POLL : Age 13; Daughter of Newton; Postal 
 
 messenger and schoolgirl; 80, 95, 97, 106, 178, 190. 
 AMBROSE, SUE : Age 9; Daughter of Newton; Schoolgirl; 
 
 80, 95, 97, 190. 
 AMBROSE FAMILY, THE : 190. 
 ATKIN, 'OLD' BUTLER: Age 66; Farm labourer at Hides; 
 
 M. O. Holmes; 4, 94. 
 ATKIN, 'YOUNG' BUTLER: Age 22; invalided from war; 
 
 B.; P.M.; Lab.; engaged to M. Harker; lives with 
 
 old people; 4, 38, 53, 66, 70, 94, 159, 171. 
 ATKIN, HORACE : Age 44; Farm labourer at Danes; M. J. 
 
 Stower; P.M.; Lab.; 172. 
 ATKIN, JULIA : See MRS POTTERTON. 
 ATKIN, LOUISA: Age 19; Horace's daughter; Sp.; P.M.; 
 
 Cons.; 48, 167. 
 ATKIN FAMILY, THE : 118. 
 
 257
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 BARKS, GEORGE : Age 32; Pinion's groom; B.; P.M.', Lib.', 
 zg, 44, 63, 82, 132. 
 
 BARKS, JOE : Age 34; Poacher and general dealer and off- 
 licence holder; P.M.; Lab.; M. Kate Jackson; 28, 
 34, 45, 73, 132. 
 
 BARKS, TOM : Age 20; Horseman for W. Bowles; B.; P.M.; 
 Cons.; engaged to Sophie Hodgson; lives 'in'; 132. 
 
 BARLEY, ALEXANDER : Age 44; Market gardener, poultry 
 breeder, egg and fowl buyer; Bap.; Lab.; M. Kate 
 Atkin ; 68, 82, 93, 125, 126, 145, 171, 181. 
 
 BARLEY, MRS A. : Age 30; Nee Atkin; Bap.; Cons.; 97 
 171. 
 
 BARLEY, OLIVER : Age 41; Pig dealer; Wes.; Lib.; M. Nan 
 Pratt; 20, 106, 125, 155, 168, 190. 
 
 BARLEY, MRS O. : Age 39; Nee Pratt; Wes.; Cons.; 20, 
 
 155- 
 
 BAVIN, NICHOL : Age 30; M. Mary Ruston; Cycle and 
 
 petrol shop and ironmonger; Bap.; Cons.; 149, 159, 
 
 161, 162, 181 
 BAVIN, MRS N : Age 27; Nichol's wife; Nee M. Ruston; 
 
 Bap.; Cons.; 149, 162. 
 
 BAVIN, TOM: Age 45; expert pieceworker; B.; No religion; 
 .Lab.; lives with Leah Williamson; 3, 36, 62, 71, 86, 
 
 in, 124, 149, 162, 171. 
 BAVIN, WILL: Age 22; Edgerley's chauffeur; B.; P.M.; 
 
 Lab.; engaged to M, Jackson; 143, 162. 
 BEAN, BILLY : Age 51; Bricklayer; M.; P.M.; Lib.; 4,6, 
 
 7> 53, 9 8 . I 35- 
 
 BEAN, MRS : D.; Billy's mother; 7. 
 BELL, GEORGY : D.; sang carols; 23, 45, 85. 
 BELLAMY, JEREMIAH: D.; Butcher; M. Ann Hodgson; 
 
 47, 125, 168, 169 
 BELLAMY, MRS (ANN) : Age 57; cleans Baptist Chapel; W.; 
 
 Bap.; Cons.; Nee Hodgson; 47, 125, 168, 186. 
 BELLAMY, MOSES : Age 44; Sweep and market gardener and 
 
 town crier; P.M.; Lab.; Jeremiah's youngest brother; 
 
 M. Gladys Stennett, 168, 175. 
 BELLAMY GLADYS (MRS M.) : Age 42; Sweep's wife; P.M.; 
 
 Cons.; Nee Stennett; 168. 
 BENNINGTON, GUSTAVUS : Age 61; Liberal candidate for 
 
 Fletton Parliamentary division : lives at Platts Hole; M.; 
 
 Wes.; Lib.; Retired manufacturer; 6, 31, 38, 53, 55, 
 
 74, 76, 128, 152, 182, 189. 
 BENTON, MATTHEW: Age 59; Farmer, not on estate; M.; 
 
 Wes., Lib.; 18, 93, 170. 
 
 BENTON, POLLY (MRS M.) : Age 50; Nee Ruston; 170. 
 
 258
 
 BERRY, CYRUS, M.I.C.E. : Age 42; the doctor's cousin; 
 
 Consulting engineer; Cons.; Rationalist; 18, 56, 91, 
 
 106, 172, 181, 183. 
 BERRY, JOSEPHUS, DR, L.S.A., M.R.C.S. : Age 55; W.; nc 
 
 religion or politics; 17, 18, 46, 51, 52, 59, 66, 82, 93, 101, 
 
 105, 106, 120, 136, 140, 142, 148, 158, 183, 186. 
 BERRY, HOSEA : D.; Dr Berry's uncle; was schoolmaster in 
 
 Fletton when his son Cyrus was a lad; 91, 181. 
 BLIND JOHNNY (TAYLOR) : D.; Town crier; 54, 85, 135. 
 BLINXHORN OF BLY, LORD : Landowner; Blinichorn House, 
 
 Ely; 74. 
 BLOW (WILLIAM), 'OLD': D.; Veterinary surgeon; was 
 
 eaten by rats; 18, 51, 106, 148, 160, 169. 
 BONES, BILL : D.; Cunning Jim's father; 85. 
 BONES, CHRISTIAN : Age 40; on active service; M. T. 
 
 Wattam of Holt-in-the-Marsh; 38. 
 BONES, JAMES EDWARD (CUNNING JIM) : Age 50; Small 
 
 farmer; W.; Ch.; Lib.; M. Winnie Sharpies; 14, 16, 
 
 38, 41, 52, 95, 105, 131, 141, 142, 145, 147, 152. 
 BONES, MRS J. E. : D.; Nee Sharpies; 95, 147. 
 BONES, TILLY : Age 16; Scullery maid at The Towers; Sp. 
 
 eldest daughter of J. E. Bones; 24, 124. 
 BORKMAN, JOSEF : Age 37; Belgian refugee; R.C.; No politics; 
 
 lodges with Markers; Clockmender; 49, 66, 114, 138, 
 
 149, 150, 164, 165. 
 BORKMAN, ELISE : Age 28; Josef's wife; R.C.; living in 
 
 London; 49, 114, 122, 149, 164, 165. 
 
 BOWLES, CHARLES : D.; Father of William and Thomas; 62. 
 BOWLES, GRANDMOTHER : D.; Charles's wife; Nee Henrietta 
 
 Marshall ; 97. 
 BOWLES, THOMAS: Age 41; Farmer; Ch.; Cons.; M. 
 
 Hepzibah Creasey; 58, 62, 77, 97, 102, 147, 151, 160, 166. 
 BOWLES, MRS T. : Age 47; Thomas's wife; Ch.; Cons.; Nee 
 
 Key; First husband James Creasey; 58, 62, 75, 77, 97, 
 
 102, 147, 151, 160. 
 BOWLES, WILLIAM: Age 41; Farmer; Bap.; Lib.; M. 
 
 Jemima Hodgson; 58, 62, 90, 97, 102, 132, 147, 151, 
 
 160, 166. 
 BOWLES, MRS W. : Age 33; William's wife; Bap.; Lib.; Nee 
 
 Hodgson; was cook at Dower House; 58, 62, 97, 102, 
 
 132, 147, 150, 151. 
 BOWLES FAMILY, THE : 62, 70, 113. 
 BROOMFIELD, EMMANUEL: D.; Small farmer in Fletton; 
 
 noted for his amours; 20, 55, 66, 81. 
 BUGG, BOB : D.; Pawnbroker in Bolton; left a considerable 
 
 fortune to his widow; 29. 
 259
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 BUGG, MRS POLLY : Age 53; Pawnbroker's widow; Mildred 
 
 Pinion's mother; lives at the Pinion's; 29, 108, 144, 
 
 184. 
 BURROWS, CARTWRIGHT : Age 46; County Court bailiff; M.; 
 
 No religion; Lib.\ lives at Bly; 104, 106, 145, 172, 
 
 183. 
 BURROWS, ENOCH : D.; M. T. Cook; Cartwright's father; 
 
 104. 
 
 BURROWS, MRS ENOCH : D.; Nee Thyrza Cook; 104. 
 BURROWS, ESAU: Age 74; returned from U.S.A.; W.; 
 
 Christian Scientist; Democrat; M. Isabel Strawson; 24, 
 
 41, 54, 94, 95, 141, 159 
 
 BURROWS, MRS ESAU : D.; Nee Isabel Strawson; 54. 
 BURROWS, ESAU, 'OLD' : D.; Esau's father; M. A, Watson 
 
 and H. Sneath; 54. 
 BURROWS, ESAU, 'YOUNG': Age 30; on active service; M. 
 
 O. Morton of Bly; 38. 
 BURROWS, LOTTIE : Age 34; Dressmaker; Sp.; Wes.; Cons.; 
 
 41, 95, 101, 141. 
 BURROWS, TOM : Age 24; Ploughman at Pinions; Ch.; Cons.; 
 
 M. Maria Barks; 95, 135, 153, 179. 
 BURROWS, MRS T. (MARIA) : Age 22; Nee Barks; 135. 
 BURROWS, OLD TOM : D.; M. H. Broomfield; 'Young' Tom's 
 
 father; 85, 135. 
 
 BURROWS FAMILY, THE : 165, 183. 
 BURTONSHAW, EMMA : Age 32; Infant mistress in Council 
 
 School; Sp.; Ch.; Lib.; n, 14, 17, 52, 56, 64, 80, 141, 
 
 158. 
 
 CHALLANDS, JACKSON : Age 55; Large farmer; Parish Coun- 
 cillor; W.; Ch.; Cons.; M. C. Dane; 10, 16, 26, 38, 42, 
 53, 70, 77, 80, 92, 95, 96, 98, 100, 184. 
 
 CHALLANDS, MRS J. : D.; Nee Dane; 80. 
 
 CHALLANDS, OLD JACKSON : D. ; was a very rich farmer in 
 Fletton; 53, 65, 96, 104. 
 
 CHALLANDS, VIOLET : Age 18; Jackson's eldest daughter; 
 Sp.; Ch.; Cons.; 15, 53, 75, 80, 87, 95, 100, 115, 156, 
 184, 185. 
 
 CHALLANDS FAMILY, THE : 184. 
 
 CLUB-FOOT GEORGE : See GEORGE PRATT. 
 
 COBBLER GEORGE : See GEORGE GOOSE. 
 
 COOK, ALBERT: Age 45; Farm labourer for S. Dane; S.A.; 
 Cons.; M. Hannah Bones; 41, 109, 167. 
 
 COOK, ALBERT QNR.) : Age 13; Albert's son; at school; 130. 
 
 COOK, HANNAH (MRS A.) : Age 43; Albert's wife; S.A.; 
 Lib.; Nee Bones; 39, 41, 42, 109, 130, 167, 189. 
 260
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 COOK, EPHRAIM : Age 74; Farm labourer; W.; P.M.; Cons.; 
 
 M. M. Jorkins ; Father to Albert and Laura ; 41, 84, 
 
 109. 
 
 COOK, JENNIE : Age 11; Schoolgirl; Daughter of Albert; n. 
 COOK, JOHN : Age 37; Farm labourer at Hides; P.M.; Cons.; 
 
 M. M. Maplethorpe; 139, 167. 
 COOK, LAURA: Age 38; Albert's sister; Sp.; S.A.; Lib.; 
 
 lives with father; 38, 39, 41, 42, 84, 109. 
 COOK, LIZZIE : Age 16; Albert's daughter; apprenticed to 
 
 Miss Burrows at dressmaking; 95. 
 COOTE, MAURICE FITZHERBERT, THE HON. : Age 51; referred 
 
 to by the villagers as ' Mr ' Coote; present Earl's youngest 
 
 brother; B.; Ch.; Cons.; 30, 35, 42, 66, 72, 120, 126, 
 
 157, 185. 
 
 COOTE, WILFRED, CAPT., M.C. : Age 31; invalided out of 
 
 army and now recruiting officer for Fletton and district; 
 
 stationed at Ely; 38, 176. 
 COOTE FAMILY, THE: r, 6, 24, 42, 66, 69, 70, 76, 79, 94, 115, 
 
 120, 129, 157, 183. 
 
 COULSON, ABIJAH : D.; Father of David; Labourer; 57. 
 COULSON, DAVID : Age 43; Pig-killer and market gardener; 
 
 Off licence; P.M.; Cons.; M. Dora Jackson; 48, 57, 
 
 73, 126, 138. 
 COULSON, DORA (MRS D.) : Age 37; Nee Jackson; David's 
 
 wife; P.M. .; Cons.; 138. 
 COUNTESS, THE : Age 59 ; Nee Hermione Antoinette Lavinia 
 
 Fortescue; Ch.; Cons.; 24, 74, 93, 120, 128, 136, 157, 
 
 158, 180. 
 
 CREASEY, ABEL: Age 30; Engineer; Marias son; M. a 
 stranger; left Fletton; 96. 
 
 CREASEY, OLD ABRAHAM : D.; built the Baptist Chapel; 47. 
 
 CREASEY, ADAM : Age 18; apprenticed to a baker at Bly; 
 Maria s son; 96. 
 
 CREASEY, AMOS : Drowned in water-butt; Maria's son; 96. 
 
 CREASEY, ANNIE : See MRS E. HICKS. 
 
 CREASEY, BESS : Age 26; Barmaid; Maria s daughter; 96, 
 147, 148. 
 
 CREASEY, EMMANUEL: Age 44; Astronomer; B.; Spiritu- 
 alist; Fabian Socialist; Maria's eldest son; 38, 42, 91, 
 96, 138, 147, 160, 163. 
 
 CREASEY ENOCH; Age 16; Schoolboy; Maria's son; 96. 
 
 CREASEY, ISAAC : Age 68; Auctioneer, butcher, and cattle- 
 dealer and small farmer; Parish Councillor; Bap.; 
 Lib.; M. S. Burrows; 6, 42, 46, 47, 90, 96, 97, 113, 148, 
 150, 160, 169, 181, 190. 
 
 CREASEY, MRS I. : Age 46; Nee Sarah Burrows; 97. 
 
 261
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 CREASEY, JABEZ : D. ; Maria's husband (and cousin) ; 96. 
 CREASEY, JACOB, 'OLD': D.; Maria's brother-in-law; M. 
 
 Emily Bones; 96, 147, 148. 
 
 CREASEY, MRS J. : D.; Jacob's wife; Nee Emily Bones; 96. 
 CREASEY, JACOB, 'LITTLE': Killed in action; Maria's son: 
 
 38, 96. 
 CREASEY, JAMES : D.: Maria s brother-in-law; M. Hepzibah 
 
 Key and two other women; 62, 96. 
 CREASEY, JANE: Age 35; Cook in Ely; Sp.; Bap.; no 
 
 politics; Maria's daughter; 96, 138, 147, 148. 
 CREASEY, JOB : Age 42; Small holder under County Council; 
 
 Lib.; Wes.; M. Susan Drmg; Marias son; 24,96,107. 
 CREASEY, MRS JOB : Job's wife; Nee S. Bring; 96. 
 CREASEY, JOEL : Drowned in water-butt; Maria's son; 96. 
 CREASEY. MARIA (MRS JABEZ) : Age 62; Grocer's, draper's, 
 
 and confectioner's shop; W.; Bap.; Cons.; M. her 
 
 cousin Jabez; 38, 46. 56, 91, 96, 113, 137, 138, 150, 189. 
 CREASEY, MARY: Age 36; Nurse; Maria's daughter; Sp ; 
 
 96. 
 CREASEY, NOAH, M.P.S. : Age 43; Chemist and druggist; 
 
 Maria's second son; no religion or politics; M. Lorna 
 
 Ravell; 49, 68, 82, 96, 105, 138, 148, 158. 
 CREASEY, MRS N. : Age 29; Nee Lorna Ravell; a Cornish 
 
 girl; whereabouts unknown; 49, 96. 
 CREASEY, SUSANNAH : Age 21; Maria's daughter; Munition 
 
 worker at Bly; 96, 113, 138. 
 CREASEY, WALTER : Age 38; Civil Service; Maria's son; 
 
 M. a stranger; 96. 
 CREASEY, WILL : Age 19; Maria's son; lives at home; an 
 
 invalid; B.; 96 
 
 CREASEY FAMILY, THE : 42, 96, 102, 147, 148, 160, 184. 
 CULLEN, ALFRED : Age 53; Butcher, cattle-dealer, and 
 
 licensed slaughterer; Wes.; Cons.; M. Mercy Tharp; 
 
 42, 103, 169, 190. 
 CULLEN, MERCY (MRS A.) : Age 46; Alfred's wife; Wes.; 
 
 Cons.; Nee Tharp; 103, 169. 
 CULLEN, GUY : Committed suicide; Alfred's son; 42, 45, 
 
 49, 85, 103, 169. 
 
 CULLEN, JOE : Age 10; Guy's brother; at school; igo, 169. 
 CUNNING JIM : See J. E. BONES. 
 CUTTS (ANN) ANGELICA: Age 52; Charwoman; Sp.; Ch.; 
 
 Cons.; 81, 94, 105, 152, 182. 
 CUTTS, BOB: Age 54; Tailor; Parliamentary Labour candidate 
 
 for Fletton Division; lives at Hordle; P.M.; Lab.; 
 
 Ann's brother; M. J. Jenkins; 6, 16, 31, 55, 71, 76, 
 
 81, 106, 116, 118, 126, 128, 152, 163, 167, 182, 189. 
 262
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 CUTTS, JOE : Age 20; Second clerk in Estate Office and 
 correspondent to Ely Chronicle; B.; Ch.; Cons.', Ann's 
 son; Father uncertain; 30, 38, 46, 81, 163. 
 
 CUTTS, 'SILLY' SAM: Age 51; Bob's brother; weak in the 
 head; works at the Ship Inn and sleeps in hayloft; 
 B.; 24, 59, 81, 103, 137, 179, 190. 
 
 DANE, ANNABEL : Age 22; Anthony Dane's daughter; ran 
 
 away to London; 119. 
 DANE, ANTHONY : Age 57; Stockbreeder and large farmer; 
 
 W.; Ch.\ Cons.; M. Pansy Hides; 9, 15, 32, 41, 42, 
 
 74, 87, 117, 119, 121, 123, 146, 148, 185. 
 DANE, MRS ANTHONY : D.; Nee Hides; 117. 
 DANE, JUDAH : Age 24; Anthony's son; bolted from home; 
 
 M. Irish governess; 117, 119, 185. 
 DANE, MRS J. : D.; Nee Kathleen Minta; M. Judah Dane; 
 
 117. 
 DANE, NEVIL : Age 25; Farmer; B.; Solomon's son; 15, 
 
 2 9> 37> 77> 117. X 44> I 73. *77> l8o l8 5- 
 DANE, SOLOMON, J.P., C.C. : Age 59; Large farmer; District 
 
 Councillor; Ch.; Cons.; M. K. Pinion; 6, 9, 16, 32, 42, 
 
 74, 76, 117, 119, 121, 144, 185. 
 
 DANE, MRS S. : Age 56; Nee Pinion; Ch.; Cons.; 29, 144, 185. 
 DANE FAMILY, THE : 184. 
 DANIELS, JOSEPH: Age 57; Police inspector; M.; Ch.; 
 
 Cons.; 17, 42, 46, 54, 66, 70, 81, 84, 97, 126, 158, 159, 
 
 J 75, 177- 
 DAWSON, ALF : Age 36; 'Shep's' son; Farm labourer at 
 
 Hides; M. Jada Atkin; Ch.; Cons.; 171. 
 DAWSON, JADA (MRS A.) : Age 36; Nee Atkin; 171. 
 DAWSON, 'SHEP': Age 68; Shepherd at Hides; M.; Ch.; 
 
 Cons.; 78, 142. 
 DOBNEY, ELIZA: Age 26; Fred's daughter; Sp.; Bap.; 
 
 Cons.; 60, 61, 75, 101, no, 127, 150, 156, 174. 
 DOBNEY, FREDERICK : Age 64; Draper, haberdasher, and 
 
 outfitter; Parish Councillor; Bap.; Cons.; M. Susan 
 
 Key; 32, 60, 61, 69, 90, 95, 97, 99, 101, 102, no, 123, 
 
 127, 145, 150, 161, 163, 172, 174, 177, 190. 
 DOBNEY, MRS F. (SUSAN) : Age 63; Nee Key; Bap.; Cons.; 
 
 49, 60, 69, 75, 97, 101, 102, no, 150, 177. 
 DOBNEY, HERBERT: Age 32; Clerk in Estate Office; Ch.; 
 
 Cons.; M. Ellen Waddy; 12, 25, 38, 60, 61, 68, 89, 93, 
 
 no, in, 123, 163, 164, 172, 174. 
 DOBNEY, ELLEN (MRS H.) : Age 30; Nee Waddy; Ch.; 
 
 Cons.; 25, 38, 60, 61, 89, 110, in, 123, 150, 151, 163, 
 
 164, 172, 174, 182 
 
 263
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 DOBNEY, 'GRANDFATHER,' JOHN HERBERT : D.; Frederick's 
 
 father; established the drapery business; M. Keziah 
 
 Lowe and Mary Underwood; 60. 
 DOBNEY, MAUD : See MRS J. OVERTON. 
 DOBNEY FAMILY, THE : 42, 60, 61, 97, 102, 113, 127, 150, 
 
 160. 
 DODDS, ROBERT : Age 47; Farm labourer; Nathaniel's son; 
 
 M. Eliza. Stower; P.M.; Lab.; 65, 80, 100, 118, 167, 
 
 172. 
 DODDS, ELIZA : Age 45; Robert Dodd's wife; Nee Stower; 
 
 Jimmy's mother; P.M.; Lab.; 41, 65, 100, 118, 150, 
 
 167, 182, 189. 
 DODDS, JIMMY : Age 17; Handy lad at Vicarage; Nathaniel's 
 
 grandson; 65, 100, 159, 167. 
 DODDS, NATHANIEL : Age 88; Market gardener; W.; P.M.; 
 
 Lab.; M. Mary Ann Jackson; 26, 65, 100, 118, 167. 
 DORRIEN, 'GRANDMOTHER' : See 'GRANDMOTHER' THARP. 
 DRING, HAMILTON : Age 49; Schoolmaster; Ch.; Lib.; M. 
 
 Lucy Ambrose; 42, in, 130, 151, 172, 178. 
 DRING, MRS H. : Age 44; Nee Ambrose (Lucy); Ch.; Cons.; 
 
 88, 130, 151, 181. 
 
 EARL, THE FIRST : Aubrey Llewellyn Coote; Founder of the 
 family in A.D. 1664; i. 
 
 EARL, THE LATE (THE ELEVENTH) : 27, 42, 46, 65, 69, 81. 
 
 EARL, THE (TWELFTH), (GEOFFREY LLEWELLYN AUBREY 
 WARRINGTON COOTE) : Age 63; Ch.; Cons.; M. Hermione 
 Antoinette Lavinia Fortescue; i, 2, 4, 7, 12, 16, 17, 24, 
 26, 27, 30, 32, 35, 45, 47, 53. 54. 65, 71, 74, 91, 104, 
 
 Il6, 120, 121, 125, 129, 134, 135, 146, 157, 170, 185, 190. 
 
 EDGERLEY, ALGERNON: Age 27; Farmer; Ch.; Cons.; 
 
 from London; only son of rich father; M. Lettice 
 
 Corby; 5, 29, 37, 52, 69, 89, 143, 162, 171, 177, 180, 
 
 181, 185. 
 EDGERLEY, MRS A. : Age 29; Nee Corby; Ch.; Cons.; only 
 
 daughter of rich mother; 15, 29, 46, 75, 143, 162, 180, 
 
 184, 185. 
 
 EDGERLEY, CLARKSON : D.; Algernon's father; 52. 
 EDGERLEY FAMILY, THE : 29, 75. 
 ELSOM, LEONARD : Corn merchant in Bly; father lived in 
 
 Fletton; M. Rhoda Ruston; 99. 
 ELVIN, ABINGER : D.; Joseph's father; Small farmer in 
 
 Fletton; 107. 
 ELVIN, JOSEPH: Age 68; Ch.; Cons.; M. Dora Rowett; 
 
 Small farmer; 107, 133, 142, 147, 166. 
 ELVIN, DORA (MRS J.) : Age 50; Nee Rowett; 133, 166. 
 
 264
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 ENDERBY, MORTON : Age 64; Ironmonger and general store, 
 plumber and second-hand dealer, repairer of machines 
 and implements; M. Dinah Smithson; P.M.; Lib.; 32, 
 42, 48, 74, 84, 149, 162, 175, 181, 183, 190. 
 
 ENDERBY, DINAH (MRS M.) : Age 65; Nee Smithson; 181. 
 
 ENDERBY FAMILY, THE : 183. 
 
 FENNINGTON, KENNETH : Hay merchant in Ely; grandfather 
 lived in Fletton; 99. 
 
 FERRETT 'LAWYER/ (PHINEAS) : Age 58; M.; Ch.; Cons.; 
 has house in Fletton but office in Ely; i, 2, 6, 7, 13, 17, 
 33, 54, 79, 90, 101, 106, 116, 120, 123, 128, 137, 159, 
 
 173, 178- 
 FERRETT, MONTAGUE : Age 14; Son of Phineas; At Ely 
 
 Grammar School; 13, 100, 106, 159, 178. 
 'FiTz/ LORD (THE HON. FITZGERALD COOTE) : Age 19; 
 
 Earl's second son; B.; Ch.; Cons.; home on leave; 
 
 22, 24, 66, 80, 93, 115, 120, 124, 152, 157, 159, 180, 
 
 187. 
 FLETCHER, LUKE : Age 55; Tailor and outfitter; Wes.; Lib.; 
 
 M. Norah Ruston; Parish Councillor; 31, 42, 55, 73, 
 
 76, 118, 128, 175. 
 FLETCHER FAMILY, THE : 75. 
 FORTESCUE, THE HON. CECIL: Age 51; Countess's brother; 
 
 B.; Ch.; Cons.; 120. 
 FORTESCUE FAMILY, THE : 157. 
 FULLERTON, CURTIS : Age 46; Farmer not on the estate; 
 
 Bap.; Lib.; farm outside parish, but Fletton his head- 
 quarters; M. May Ambrose; 46, 79, 82, 90, 93, 170. 
 FULLERTON, MRS C. :" Age 46; Nee Ambrose; 97. 
 FULLERTON, JOE : Son of Curtis; works for father; 82. 
 FULTON, J. : Professional golfer at Ely; 93. 
 
 GILLIAT, JOE : Bankrupt market gardener; left Fletton; 45. 
 GLOVER, TOM : Age 41; District road surveyor; Lives in 
 
 Ely; Susannah Creasey's married lover; 106, 113, 138, 
 
 178. 
 GOOSE, GEORGE 'COBBLER' : Age 56; Boot shop; Ch.; Lib.; 
 
 M. Harriet Stower; 42, 69, 126, 129, 172, 175, 190. 
 GOOSE, JOHN JOSEPH : Age 88; Retired barge-owner; M. 
 
 T. Bembridge of Hordle; no religion; Cons.; Cobbler 
 
 George's father; 9, 51, 69, 125, 129. 
 GOOSE, SAUL : Age 28; Son of Trotter Goose; M. J. Jorkins; 
 
 at the war; 38. 
 GOOSE, TROTTER : D.; Labourer; Cobbler George's brother; 
 
 38. 
 
 265
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 GOOSE, MRS TROTTER : Age 51; Nee Sarah Harker; Widow 
 of Trotter Goose; P.M.; Cons.; Saul's mother; 38. 
 
 GORMAN & SONS, LTD. : Drapers at Ely; 95. 
 
 GUNN, ELI : Age 61; Late clerk to agent; M. Nance Overton; 
 Lib.; Ch.; retired to a farm at Hordle; 38, 107, 163. 
 
 HANBURY, JAMES : Age 57; Bank manager; M.; Ch.; Cons.; 
 
 32, 42, 66, 112, 175, 181. 
 
 HARBORD, CHRISTOPHER : Landowner at Caxby; Lib.; 157. 
 HARKER, JIM : Age 27; Minnie's brother; on active service; 
 
 38, 165. 
 HARKER, MINNIE : Age 30; Girls' mistress at Council School; 
 
 Sp.; Ch.; Cons.; engaged to Butler Atkin; lives with 
 
 mother; 4, n, 14, 17, 24, 49, 56, 66, 138, 159, 165. 
 HARKER, WIDOW (BESS) : Age 52; Charwoman; Ch.; Cons.; 
 
 Nee Burrows; 51, 56, 165, 175. 
 
 HARROD, PETER : Age 28; M. K. Pearson of Hordle; Con- 
 stable under Inspector Daniels; Ch. ; Cons.; 28, 66, 154. 
 HARROD, WALKER : Killed in action; was farm labourer at 
 
 D. Moggs's; M. Lucy Jenkins; 10, 24, 37, 38. 
 HARROD, MRS W. : Age 25; War widow; Wes.; Cons.; 
 
 granddaughter of George Jenkins; 10, 37, 140. 
 HARVEY, JACOB : Age 77; Landlord of Golden Cross and 
 
 market gardener; Ch.; Cons.; first wife W. Strawson; 
 
 second wife Tilly Overton; 18, 52, 54, 91, 95, 137, 179, 
 
 183, 190. 
 
 HARVEY, MRS J. (No. i) : D.; Nee Strawson; 18. 
 HARVEY, MRS J. (No. 2) : Age 34; Nee Overton; 18, 137. 
 HARVEY, OLD MR : D.; had Golden Cross before Jacob; 18. 
 HEMSLEY, HARRY : Age 20; Farmer's son; B.; Wes.; Cons.; 
 
 son of Widow Hemsley; engaged to Bessie Key; 33, 
 
 59, 61, 64, 75, 89, 160. 
 HEMSLEY, JAMES : D.; M. Lydia Lowe; Farmer on Estate; 
 
 59. 64. 
 HEMSLEY, WIDOW: Age 58; Farmer; Wes.; Lib.; late 
 
 husband James Hemsley; Nee Lowe; 33, 59, 64, 75, 
 
 112. 
 
 HEMSLEY FAMILY, THE : 74, 75. 
 HERRIES, LORD DAVID : Herries Hall, Caxton-in-the-Wold; 
 
 a recently ennobled politician; 134. 
 HICKS, ENDERBY, M.R.C.V.S. : Age 36; Veterinary surgeon; 
 
 Bap.; Cons.; M. Annie Creasey; 96, 105, 148, 160, 
 
 178. 
 HICKS, ANNIE (MRS E.) : Age 24; Nee Creasey; Bap.; Cons.; 
 
 75, 96, 148, 160, 174. 
 HICKS FAMILY, THE : 160. 
 
 266
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 HIDES, BANNISTER: Age 49; Large farmer; W.; Ch.; 
 
 Cons.; M. Bertha Hemsley; 5, 9, 16, 42, 53, 74, 78, 
 
 87, 93, 142, 163, 170, 181, 184, 185. 
 HIDES, MRS B. : D.; Nee Hemsley; 74. 
 HIDES, BANNISTER QNR.) : Age 18; lives with father; B.; 
 
 Ch.; Cons.; 74, 80, 87, 177. 
 HIDES, ROBERT: D.; Bannister's father; Farm labourer; 
 
 185. 
 
 HIDES FAMILY, THE : 53, 74. 
 HODGSON, ALBERT : Age 28; John's son; Farming at Hordle; 
 
 132. 
 HODGSON, GEORGE QNR.) : Age 16; Obadiah's son; a cripple; 
 
 186. 
 HODGSON, JOHN : Age 60; Farm foreman at Pinion's; Wes.; 
 
 Cons.; M. Mabel Harrod; 5, 132, 135, 153. 
 HODGSON, OBADIAH : Age 58; Road-mender and mole-catcher; 
 
 W.; P.M.; Cons.; John's brother; M. Rachael 
 
 Swinton; 78, 106, 132, 158, 186. 
 HODGSON, MRS O. (RACHAEL) : D.; Nee Swinton; 158, 186, 
 
 189. 
 HODGSON, RACHAEL QNR.) : Age 7; Obadiah's daughter; 
 
 186. 
 HODGSON, SOPHIE : Age 22; John's daughter; engaged to 
 
 Tom Barks; 132. 
 HODGSON, STEPHEN : Age 30; on active service; M. A. 
 
 Bowser of South Winch; 38. 
 HODGSON FAMILY, THE : 151. 
 HOLMES, ARTHUR : Age 35; Gardener at Towers; M. J. 
 
 Dodds; Ch.; Cons.; 24, 182. 
 HOLMES, LABAN : D.; Moller's father; M.I. Barks; drowned 
 
 in Wells's Pit; 188. 
 HOLMES, MOLLER : Age 37; Labourer at Fuller-ton's; P.M.; 
 
 Lab.; M. Harriet Overton; Local secretary of the 
 
 Agricultural Workers' Union; invalided from war; 16, 
 
 24, 38, 53, 54, 66, 71, 118, 135, 171, 182. 
 HOLMES, HARRIET (MRS M.) : Age 35; Nee Overton; 81, 118, 
 
 182. 
 HOLMES, REUBEN: Age 31; Gardener at Towers; M. W. 
 
 Jorkins; Ch.; Cons.; 24, 182. 
 HOLMES, TOM : Age 12; Moller's eldest boy; works for 
 
 Pinion; 153. 
 HURCOMB-KNATT, DR A. : Captain in R.A.M.C. (New Zealand 
 
 Expeditionary Force); M. Adela Lome; 105, 136. 
 HURCOMB-KNATT, ADELA : Age 46; New Zealand doctor's 
 
 wife; Ch.; Cons.; Vicar's only sister; 38, 75, 100, 105, 
 
 120, 129, 136, 175. 
 
 267
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 JACKSON, ABEL : D.; Walter's father; 140. 
 
 JACKSON, 'GRANDMOTHER' (MRS J.) : Age 99; Nee Pratt; 
 
 W.; Ch.; Cons.; second oldest inhabitant; lives with 
 
 grandson Walter; Peg-Leg's and Walter's grandmother; 
 
 18, 101, 140, 175. 
 JACKSON, MILLY : Age 23; Walter's youngest sister; in 
 
 service at The Towers; engaged to Will Bavin; 24, 162. 
 JACKSON, NAOMI : See MRS MALACHI SMITHSON. 
 JACKSON, 'PEG-LEG' : Age 40; Handy man at Golden Cross; 
 
 B.; no religion or politics; Adam's son; 24, 54, 82, 
 
 126, 137, 140, 159, 161, 175. 
 JACKSON, WALTER : Age 38; Head gamekeeper on Estate; 
 
 B.; Ch.; Lib.; Peg-Leg's cousin; 28, 82, 124, 140. 
 JACKSON FAMILY, THE : 156. 
 JAMESON, 'CAPTAIN' NORMAN: Age 43; Salvation Army 
 
 officer; M.; no politics; lodges with Albert Cook; 
 
 20, 39, 41, 42, 51, 66, 84, 108, 109, 130, 145, 146, 149, 156, 
 
 158, 173- 
 
 JAMESON, MRS N. : Norman's wife; whereabouts unknown; 
 41, 109. 
 
 JAMESON, JOHN : Norman's brother; 109. 
 
 JAMESON, OLD MRS : Died in workhouse; Norman's mother; 
 156. 
 
 JENKINS, BENJAMIN : Age 54; Foreman to Nevil Dane; Old 
 George's son; B.; Ch.; Cons.; 185. 
 
 JENKINS, 'OLD' GEORGE: Age 100; oldest inhabitant; M. 
 A. Atkin; W.; no religion or politics; lives with grand- 
 daughter, Mrs \Valker Harrod; 37, 94, 101, 140, 183, 
 192. 
 
 JORDAN (SETH), SADDLER : Age 76; Saddler; off licence 
 holder; Ch.; Cons.; M. a Hordle girl; 2, 46, 69, 73, 
 125, 190. 
 
 JORKINS, EZRA: Age 28; Hiram's son; B.; Wes.; Lab.; 
 works for father; 121. 
 
 JORKINS, HIRAM : Age 50; Small-holder under County Coun- 
 cil; Wes.; Lab.; M. Harriet Maplethorpe; 71, 84, 121, 
 126. 
 
 JORKINS FAMILY, THE : 190. 
 
 KEY, ANDREW, 'OLD' : D.; Farmer on Estate; M. E. Ward 
 
 (of Pantacks) ; grandfather to Bessie and Jack; 9 
 KEY, BESSIE : Age 29; William's daughter; Sp.; Ch.; Cons.; 
 
 engaged to Harry Hemsley; 59, 61, 64, 75, no, 160, 184. 
 KEY, JACK : Age 38; Horse, cattle, and general dealer, and 
 
 small farmer; Ch.; Cons.; M. Jennie Ruston; 36, 59, 
 
 65, 89, 164, 184. 
 
 268
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 KEY, WILLIAM : >.; 'Old Andrew's son; Farmer on Estate; 
 
 M. S. Challands; father to Bessie and Jack; 184. 
 KEY, MRS WILLIAM : Age 60; W.; Nee Challands; 75, 184. 
 KEY FAMILY, THE : 59, 64, 150, 184. 
 KING, ADA : Age 15; Maid at Towers; 24. 
 KING, JERRY : Age 18; Valet to Mr Coote; B.; Ch.; Cons.; 
 
 24, 30, 126. 
 KING, MARTHA : Age 52; had son (Adolphus Swift) by Earl, 
 
 and was paid to emigrate to America; 27, 32, 51. 
 KING, MARY : Age 17; Housemaid at the Pinion's; Sp.; Ch.; 
 
 Cons.; 29, 44, 51, 63, 108, 165, 175. 
 KING, SUSAN (MRS M.) : Age 55; Nee Burrows; W.; Ch.; 
 
 Cons.; Handy woman; 30, 51, 63, 108, 126, 158, 165, 
 
 171, 175, 177. 
 KYME, THE HON. EUSTACE : Age 35; Earl's nephew; Agent 
 
 to Estate; Ch.; Cons.; M. Lad}' Betty Wordsworth; 3,4, 
 
 5, 6, 12, 29, 42, 53, 54, 65, 66, 68, 70, 71, 72, 74, 79, 
 
 81, 87, 93, 99, 120, 123, 153, 157, 177, 184. 
 KYME, LADY BETTY : Age 33; The Agent's wife; Nee Words- 
 worth; Ch.; Cons.; 8, 12, 15, 30, 38, 45, 74, 93, 123, 
 
 148, 157, 164, 180, 184. 
 KYME, LT. THE HON. GEOFFREY, R.F.C. : Age 23; Second 
 
 son of Lord Kyme of Kyme Castle; B.; Ch.; Cons.; 
 
 Eustace's brother; 104, 115, 187. 
 KYME, LORD : Of Kyme Castle; Landowner; M. the Earl's 
 
 sister; 187, 190. 
 
 LONGTHORNE, ANDREW : Age 53; London milliner; M. 
 
 General Baptist; Lib.; 33, 52, 143, 149, 150, 158, 163, 
 
 170. 
 
 LONGTHORNE, EMILY : Andrew's wife; has money; 52, 158. 
 LONGTHORNE, GEORGINA : Age 29; Trained nurse; Sp.; Ch.; 
 
 Cons.; Andrew's niece; 17, 52, 81, 101, 105, 140, 158. 
 LORNE, OSMOND RODERICK, THE REV., M.A. : See VICAR. 
 LORNE, MRS OSMOND: Age 47; Vicar's wife; Ch.; Cons.; 
 
 Nee Janet Martin; 2, 3, n, 17, 47, 75, 81, 86, 120, 129, 
 
 133, 136, 151, 158, 171, 175, 181, 182. 
 LOWE, AMELIA : Age 96; F. Dobney's half-sister; Sp.; Bap.; 
 
 Cons.; oldest woman but one in Fletton; 94, 95, 101, 
 
 140, 141. 
 LOWE, JAMES : D.; Father to Amelia; M. Keziah Thomson, 
 
 who afterwards married J. H. Dobney; 101. 
 LOWE, JEREMIAH : Age 71; Coal-dealer (practically retired); 
 
 W.; Wes.; Cons.; antiquarian; M. Doris Todd; 42, 94, 
 
 101, 126, 130, 159, 172, 182. 
 LOWE, FAMILY, THE : 94. 
 
 269
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 MAKINS, DAVE : Age 27; on active service; M. B. Sharpies' 
 
 PM ; Lab.; 38. 
 MAKINS, FRED : Age 34; Off licence holder and market 
 
 gardener; M. Carrie Stower; Ch.; Cons.', 73, 172. 
 MAKINS, HENRY : D.; Joe's father; 9. 
 MAKINS, JEREMIAH: (Rat Jerry) D.; was landlord of 
 
 "Mill Inn."; Henry's father. 
 MAKINS, JOE : Age 32; Army pensioner; fried fish and 
 
 ice-cream vendor; no politics or religion; M. Sarah 
 
 King; 10, 37, 38, 53, 54, 66, 92, 129, 137, 145, 159. 
 MAKINS, MRS J. (SARAH) : Age 30; Nee King; M.; Ch.; 
 
 Lib.; niece to Susan King; 10, 37, 92. 
 MAPLETHORPE, AMY : Age 16; Housemaid at Vicarage; 
 
 Snip's daughter; 3, 100. 
 MAPLETHORPE, JOE (CURLY) : D.; Snip's father; Tailor; 
 
 M. C. Lammyman (of Hordle); 126. 
 MAPLETHORPE, 'SNIP': Age 47; Tailor; Wes.; Lib.; M. 
 
 Olive Munks; 126, 129, 152. 
 MAPLETHORPE, ZACHARIAH : D.; Tailor in Ely; born in 
 
 Fletton; Snip's uncle; M. Annie Holmes; 126, 152. 
 MARSHFELLOWTON, LORD : Landowner (Marsh House) ; 
 
 estate adjoins Fletton, on the south; 120, 170. 
 MARTIN, OSMOND : Mrs Lome's brother; 86. 
 MARTIN, RONALD, LT. : Age 22; Mrs Lome's cousin; B.; 
 
 on leave from the war; 175. 
 MOGG, ANGELINA: Age 26; Davis's eldest daughter; Sp.; 
 
 P.M.; Lib.; 15, 45, 48, 117, 146. 
 MOGG, ARTHUR : Age 20; Davis's only son; B.; P.M.; Lib.; 
 
 15, 30, 45, 77, 80, 87, 146, 149, 173, 177. 
 MOGG, DAVIS : Age 54; Farmer; M.; P.M.; Lib.; owner 
 
 of Grange Farm; Parish Councillor; I, 6, 7, 9, 22, 37, 
 
 38, 42, 45, 51, 83, 93, 94, 115, 126, 146, 167, 189. 
 MOGG, MRS D. : Age 51; Welsh; M.; P.M.; Lib.; 146. 
 MOGG, GRANDFATHER: D.; Farmer at Llantyfechan; i, 6, 
 
 94. 
 MOGG, GWINNY : Age 19; Davis's daughter; Sp.; P.M.; 
 
 Lib.; 15, 22, 27, 45, 48, 51, 115, 146, 152, 191. 
 MOGG, FAMILY, THE : 15, 51, 61, 94. 
 MORGAN, JULIUS : Proprietor of most of the travelling shows 
 
 attending Fletton Feast; no religion or politics; many 
 
 wives; 23, 30, 38, 163, 183. 
 MULLEN, FRANCIS, & SONS LTD.: Potato merchants and 
 
 great farmers of Ely and Frist on; farming great stretch 
 
 of Fen land around Washover Ferry; 38, 74, 99, 112. 
 MUNKS, JESSE : Age 38; Pedlar and agent for the Prudential 
 
 Insurance Coy. ; B. ; P.M. ; Lab. ; Bob Cutts's agent for 
 270
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 Fletton; lodges with the Atkins; 16, 71, 116, 118, 135, 
 152, 161, 182. 
 
 OLDFIELD, HUCKLEBURY : Age 50; Sexton and blacksmith, 
 
 and clerk to Parish Council; Ch.; Lib.; M. Amelia 
 
 Rowett; 104, 121, 133. 
 OLDFIELD, AMELIA (MRS H.) : Age 48; Nee Rowett; Ch.; 
 
 Lib.; 25, 104, in, 133, 161, 164. 
 OLDFIELD, MOLL : See MRS B. OVERTON. 
 OLDFIELD, RUFUS : Age 47; Small-holder under County 
 
 Council; Lib,; Wes.; B.; 14, 34, 71. 
 OLDFIELD FAMILY, THE : 104, in, 190. 
 OVERTON, BILL : Age 36; Threshing machine minder; Wes.; 
 
 no politics; M. Moll Oldfield; 25, 71, 104, in, 123, 
 
 133. 163, 164, 172, 182. 
 OVERTON, MOLL (MRS B.) : Age 26; Nee Oldfield; Wes.; 
 
 Cons.; 25, 104, in, 133, 161, 164. 
 OVERTON, FRED: Age 38; Skilled labourer; Wes.; Cons.; 
 
 M. Emmie Makins; 71, 74, 94. 
 OVERTON, MRS F. (EMMIE) : Age 31; Nee Makins; Wes.; 
 
 Cons.; 71. 
 OVERTON, JOHN : Age 32; Small farmer; Bap.; Cons.; M. 
 
 Maud Dobney; 25, 60, 61, 69, 71, 74, 123, 145, 174, 
 
 177, 182. 
 OVERTON, MRS J. : Age 28; Nee Dobney; Bap.; Cons.; 60, 
 
 61, 75, 97> *74> l8 2- 
 OVERTON, ' OLD ' JOHN : D. ; Father of Bill, Fred, John, etc. ; 
 
 Labourer and small holder; 61. 
 OVERTON, SARAH : See MRS N. STENNETT. 
 OVERTON, TILLY : See MRS JACOB HARVEY. 
 OVERTON, WIDOW : Age 74; Old John's wife; Nee Wade; 61. 
 OVERTON, FAMILY, THE : 61, 182, 184. 
 
 PETCHELL, HARE : committed suicide; Farmer in Fletton; 
 
 18. 73- 
 PINION, CHARLES : D.; was the 'first' farmer in Fletton in 
 
 his day; lived in the Manor House; M. O. Strawson; 
 
 78, 144, 184, 185. 
 PINION, 'GENTLEMAN' (LAURENCE) : Age 30; Large farmer; 
 
 Ch.; Cons,; M. Mildred Bugg; 5, 9, 29, 37, 44, 58, 63, 
 
 74, 108, 135, 143, 144, 153, 165, 177, 180, 184. 
 PINION, MRS L. (MILDRED) : Age 34; Nee Bugg; Ch.; Cons.; 
 
 Bolton pawnbroker's only child; 9, 29, 44, 51, 58, 63, 
 
 108, 143, 144, 153, 180, 184. 
 PINION, RONALD: D.; Laurie's father; was farmer on 
 
 Estate; 5. 
 
 271 x
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 PINION FAMILY, THE : 5, 144, 184. 
 
 POTTERTON, ABRAHAM : D.; Eli's father; was churchwarden; 
 
 54- 
 
 POTTERTON, ELI : Age 55; Milk dealer, baker, and church- 
 warden; Ch.; Cons.\ M. Julia Atkin ; 104,129,171. 
 POTTERTON, MRS E. : Age 47; Nee Atkin; 171. 
 PRATT, AMOS: Age 35; M. Nancy Dodds; Club-Foot George's 
 
 brother; Pig-dealer; P.M.; Lab.; 167, 176. 
 PRATT, NANCY (MRS A.) : Age 35; Nee Dodds; M. Amos 
 
 Pratt; 167. 
 
 PRATT, BOB : D.; was a farm labourer; 9, 85. 
 PRATT, ELISHA : killed in action; Bob's son; M. S. Palmer 
 
 (of Hordle); 24, 38. 
 PRATT, GEORGE (CLUB-FOOT GEORGE) : Age 34; Labourer for 
 
 J. E. Bones; B.; no religion or politics; 131, 152, 
 
 189. 
 PRATT, WILL : Age 32; Under-gardener at Dower House; 
 
 M. S. Waddy; no religion; Lab.; 24. 
 
 RAWSON, PROFESSOR : Professor at Barkston Agricultural 
 
 College; 143. 
 ROGERS, AGGIE : died in lunatic asylum where she went 
 
 after shock of parents' death; 170. 
 ROGERS, FARMER : committed suicide; farmed Deadman's 
 
 Ground; 170. 
 ROGERS, MRS : husband cut her throat before committing 
 
 suicide; 170. 
 ROOK, SMITH : Age 56; County Council small-holder and 
 
 off licence holder; M.; Ch.; Cons.; 71,73,176. 
 ROOK, ROBIN : Age 22; works for father; 176. 
 ROWETT, ANNIE: Age 31; Thompson's daughter; ran away 
 
 from home; Sp.; no religion; Socialist; 33, 122. 
 ROWETT, ETHEL: Age 29; Housekeeper for father; Sp.; 
 
 Wes.; no politics; 122. 
 ROWETT, SARAH : See MRS T. STOWER. 
 ROWETT, THOMPSON : Age 58; Farmer, horse, cattle and 
 
 corn dealer; chairman of Parish Council; M. Florence 
 
 Winterbourne; W.; Wes.; Lib.; 32, 33, 36, 38, 42, 50, 
 
 53. 59. 64, 67, 80, 81, 89, 107, ii2, 115, 122, 133, 143, 
 
 159, 161, 163, 170, 175, 179. 
 
 ROWETT, MRS T. : D.; Nee Winterbourne; 64, 67, 161. 
 ROWETT, FAMILY, THE : 36, 133, 166. 
 RUSTON, JAPHET : Age 68; Butcher; landlord of Coach and 
 
 Horses; M. Ann Jorkins; W.; Ch.; Cons.; 18, 69, 
 
 73, 83, 106, 161, 175, 178. 
 
 RUSTON, WALLACE : Age 56; M. Rhoda Rowett; Draper, 
 
 272
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 general store-keeper; Bap.; Cons.; 48, 73, 106, 126, 
 149, 161, 190. 
 
 RUSTON, MRS W. : Age 56; Nee Rowett; Bap.; Cons.; 20, 
 73, 149, 161. 
 
 SCOTT, MAJOR : Golfer friend of the Hon. Eustace Kyme; 93. 
 SHARP, JAMES : Straw and corn merchant in Bly; father 
 
 lived in Fletton; 99, 112. 
 SHARPLES, ADAM : Age 53; Miller and baker and market 
 
 gardener; secretary to Oddfellows; Wes.; Cons.; M. 
 
 Ann Toulson; 84, 147, 166. 
 
 SHARPLES, MRS A. : Age 48; Nee Toulson; Wes.; Cons.; 147. 
 SHARPLES, JEFF: Age 55; Carrier; off licence; P.M.; no 
 
 politics; M. Eliza Cook; 73, 84, 106, 109, 147, 166. 
 SHARPLES, MRS JEFF : Age 40; Nee Eliza Cook; 41, 84, 109. 
 SHARPLES, WINNIE : See MRS J. E. BONES. 
 SILLY SAM : See S. CUTTS. 
 SKINNER, ALBERT : Age 35; Daniel's son; farming in 
 
 Australia; 98. 
 SKINNER, BURTON : D.; Daniel's brother; father to Moses; 
 
 23- 
 SKINNER, DANIEL : Age 73; Carpenter, wheelwright, and 
 
 undertaker; Bap.; Cons.; M. Esther Holmes; 32, 96, 
 
 98, 138, 166. 
 SKINNER, 'LITTLE' DANIEL: Age 32; Daniel's son; farming 
 
 in Australia; 98. 
 SKINNER, JOE : Age 38; Daniel's son; farming in Australia; 
 
 98. 
 SKINNER, JOYCE : Age 40; keeps father's house; Sp.; Bap.; 
 
 Cons.; 98. 
 SKINNER, MOSES: Age 47; Daniel's nephew; M. Esther 
 
 Wilders; Bap.; Lib.; Small holder under Earl; 23, 98, 
 
 121, 183. 
 
 SKINNER FAMILY, THE : 98. 
 SMART, ABRAHAM : Age 29; Potato and straw and corn dealer; 
 
 B.; Wes.; Lib.; 40, 122, 146, 159. 
 SMITHSON, HILDA : Age 68; Piggy's sister; keeps house for 
 
 him; Sp.; Wes.; Cons.; 156, 173. 
 SMITHSON, JANE : Age 20; Piggy's daughter; Sp.; Ch.; 
 
 Cons.; 20, 21, 45, 74, 80, 87, no, 127, 130, 144, 146, 
 
 151, 156, 173, 175, 185. 
 
 SMITHSON, JOHN : D.; Piggy's father; Farm labourer; 21. 
 SMITHSON, PIGGY (JOSEPH) : Age 64; Large farmer and pig- 
 breeder; Ch.; Cons.; M. Farmer Strawson's widow; 
 
 2, 20, 21, 42, 60, 74, 99, 127, 144, 146, 156, 162, 173, 
 
 184. 
 
 273
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 SMITHSON, MRS J. : D.; NeeBowsei; First husband Farmer 
 
 Strawson; 21, 156. 
 SMITHSON, MALACHI : Age 61; Labourer for his brother 
 
 Piggy Smithson; P.M.; Lib.; M. Naomi Jackson; 20, 
 
 162. 
 SMITHSON, NAOMI : Age 57; Nee Jackson M. Malachi; P.M.; 
 
 Lib.; 156, 162. 
 SNEATH, ABEL : Age 65; semi-bankrupt retired farmer; 
 
 Ch.; Cons.; M. Martha Bring; keeps china and glass 
 
 and sweet shop; 78, 126, 142, 166. 
 SNEATH, MRS A. (MARTHA) : Age 47; Nee Dring; Ch.; Cons.; 
 
 78. 
 SNEATH, OLD AMOS : D.; Abel's father; was well-to-dc 
 
 farmer in Fletton; 142. 
 
 SOUTH THOMSON, 'OLD' : D.; Bankrupt farmer; 54, 56. 
 SOUTH, THOMSON, ' YOUNG ' : emigrated when father went 
 
 bankrupt; took over one of Esau Burrow's businesses 
 
 in U.S.A.; 45, 54. 
 STENNETT, NEHEMIAH : Age 29; Barber and tobacconist; 
 
 Wes.; Lib.; M. Sarah Overton; 12,30, 82, 85, 123, 162. 
 STENNETT, MRS N. : Age 33; Nee Overton; Wes.; Cons.; 12. 
 STOWER, ADAM: D.; Farm labourer; M. H. Enderby; 
 
 father of Lynn, Tommy, etc.; 50. 
 STOWER, FRANK : Age 7; Tommy's son; 50. 
 STOWER, LYNN : Age 45; Landlord Mill Inn and market 
 
 gardener; no religion; Lab.; M. Mag. Hodgson; 132, 
 
 164, 172. 
 
 STOWER, MRS L. : Age 26; Nee Hodgson; Ch.; Cons.; 132. 
 STOWER, ROBERT : Age 42; At the war; M. Esther Robinson; 
 
 38. 
 STOWER, TOMMY : Age 36; Farmer and auctioneer, hay, 
 
 straw, horse, cattle, and corn dealer; Parish Councillor; 
 
 Wes.; Lib,; M. Sarah Rowett; 5, 6, 25, 33, 36, 42, 
 
 50, 54, 67, 74, 84, 99, 107, 112, 123, 172, 175, 
 
 181. 
 STOWER, MRS T. : Age 34; Nee Rowett; Wes.; Lib.; 33, 
 
 50, 67, 100. 
 
 STOWER FAMILY, THE : 166. 
 STRAWSON, FARMER: D.; Piggy Smithson married his 
 
 widow; 21. 
 SWIFT, ADOLPHUS : Age 27; Valet to Viscount; B.; no 
 
 religion; Anarchist; illegitimate son of Earl by Martha 
 
 King; 24, 27, 32, 66, 68, 69, 115, 124, 126. 
 SWIFT, MR : a man; whereabouts and proper name known 
 
 only to James Hanbury; acted as agent for the Earl 
 
 in Martha King's case; 27. 
 274
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 SWINTON, ISAIAH : Age 48; Small-holder under County Coun- 
 cil; Cons.; Ch.; M. S. Barley; 139, 189. 
 
 SWINTON, JOSIAH : Age 52; Blacksmith; P.M.; Lib.; M. 
 Julia Stower; 14, 43, 48, 72, 83, 149, 159, 166, 172, 
 175, 179, 189. 
 
 SWINTON, MRS J. : Age 42; Nee Stower; P.M.; Cons.; 166. 
 
 SWINTON, LEVI : Age 36; M. J. Petchell; on active service; 
 24, 38, 189. 
 
 SWINTON, ' OLD ' RICHARD : D. ; father of Josiah, Isaiah, 
 etc.; M. A. Stennett; 189. 
 
 TAYLOR, JOHN : See BLIND JOHNNY. 
 
 THARP, 'OLD' AARON: D.; successful hay merchant; M. 
 
 N. Price, a Welsh servant-girl; 23, 33, 50, 54, 103. 
 THARP, MRS A. : D.; Old Aaron's wife; Nee Price; 33. 
 THARP, ' YOUNG ' AARON : Age 29; B.\ Socialist; no religion; 
 
 bankrupt hay merchant; whereabouts unknown; 23, 33, 
 
 42, 45, 49, 50, 54, 67, 73, 77, 85, 103, 112, 122, 135, 179. 
 THARP, ALBERT: D.; Old Aaron's brother; M. M. Broom- 
 field and went to Bly; 103. 
 THARP, ALBERT, GRANDFATHER : D. ; father to Old Aaron 
 
 and Albert; M. F. Dorrien; 98. 
 THARP, GRANDMOTHER : Nee Dorrien (a French girl) ; ran 
 
 away from Fletton and subsequent history unknown; 
 
 98, 103, 169. 
 
 THARP FAMILY, THE : 98. 
 THOMSON, IRVING, DR : D.; Joseph's father; was doctor 
 
 in Fletton for nearly 50 years ; 46. 
 THOMSON, JOSEPH : Age 57; Egg and fowl dealer and carrier; 
 
 no religion; Socialist; M. Cissy Wilders; 42, 46, 84, 
 
 90, 106, 117. 
 TODD, 'DAME' : D.; Peter's aunt; kept a school in Fletton; 
 
 54- 
 TODD, DAVID : Age 27; Farmer; Peter's son; M. a lawyer's 
 
 daughter from Bly (Jessica White); Ch.; Cons.; 15, 
 
 37, 74, 99, 127, 177. 
 TODD, MRS D. : Age 34; David's wife; Nee Jessica White; 
 
 177. 
 TODD, GEORGE : Age 23; Farmer; B.; Ch.; Cons.; Peters 
 
 son; semi-engaged to Eliza Dobney; 37, 61, 74, 79, 99, 
 
 no, 123, 127, 145, 150, 156, 173, 174, 177. 
 TODD, PETER : Age 63; Large farmer and District Councillor; 
 
 Ch.; Cons.; M. Jessie Key; 6, 9, 16, 42, 6r, 74, 99, 
 
 no, 112, 127, 150, 159, 163, 177, 181. 
 TODD FAMILY, THE : 21, 99, 164, 184. 
 TOULSON, ADA : See MRS DAVID WADDY. 
 
 275
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 TOULSON, ANN : See MRS ADAM SHARPLES. 
 
 TOULSON, JAMES : Age 60; Small builder; Off licence holder 
 
 and blacksmith and carpenter; Parish Councillor; Bap.; 
 
 Lib.; M. Dorothy Stower; 7, 73, 98, 147, 166, 172, 179. 
 TOULSON, JOE: Age 41; on active service; M. N. Munks; 
 
 38. 
 TOWNSEND, ARCHIBALD : Age 44; Agricultural seed and 
 
 corn merchant; no religion; Lib.; M. Enid Todd; 2, 
 
 5, 46, 99, 112, 121, 149, 159, 181, 185. 
 TOWNSEND, MRS A. : Age 28; Nee Enid Todd; Ch.; Cons.; 
 
 112, 159. 
 TOWNSEND, HAMILCAR : Age 12; Archibald's son; attends 
 
 the Church School; 100, 159, 178. 
 TOWNSEND, IRA : D.; Archibald's father; founded the 
 
 business; shot himself; 149. 
 TOYNBEE, JABEZ : D.; Joseph's father; 9. 
 TOYNBEE, JOSEPH : Age 38; on active service; P.M.; Lib.; 
 
 M. Mabel Bring; employed before war by Isaiah 
 
 Swinton; 38, 139. 
 TOYNBEE, MRS JOSEPH: Age 40; Nee Dring; P.M.; Lab ; 
 
 fourteen children, all living; 42, 139. 
 
 TUNNY, SIR EDMUND, BT. : of Churt Park; Landowner; 157. 
 TYRELL, REV. ERASMUS: Baptist minister from Bly; 38, 
 
 97, ISO- 
 
 VICAR, THE (THE REV OSMOND LORNE, M.A.) : Age 63; Ch.; 
 Cons.; M. Janet Martin; appointed 1898; 2, 3, 6, n, 
 J4- 2 3> 33, 4 2 . 43, 64, 65, 69, 75, 81, 83, 86, 94, 100, 
 103, 104, 105, 107, 108, no, 120, 126, 129, 133, 135, 
 139, 140, 145, 153, 165, 171, 175, 179, 188, 189. 
 
 VICAR, THE LATE (THE REV. J. K. MANTON) : D.; 65, 129. 
 
 VISCOUNT, THE (COLVILLE): Age 20; Earl's eldest son; B.; no 
 religion; Communist; invalided from war; i, 22, 27, 32, 
 38, 45, 51, 93, 115, 120, 124, 136, 157, 176, 180, 191. 
 
 WADDY, DAVID (GREAT GRANDFATHER) : D.; a Waterloo 
 
 veteran; 26. 
 WADDY, DAVID : Age 47; in Australia; M. Ada Toulson; 
 
 Oliver's father; 8, 70, 166. 
 WADDY, MRS D. : Age 50; Nee Toulson; Followed David to 
 
 Australia; 166. 
 WADDY, JOB : D.; Samuel's brother; Farmer; M. Mildred 
 
 Todd; 151. 
 WADDY, MRS JOB : D.; Nee Todd; Ellen Dobney's mother; 

 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 WADDY, JONATHAN (GRANDFATHER) : Age 92; old age pen- 
 sioner; M. S. Taylor; W.; atheist; Lab.; 8, 26, 42, 
 70, 89, 118. 
 
 WADDY, OLIVER (AUSTRALIAN) : Age 24; soldier on leave; 
 B.; no religion; Lab.; David's son; 8, 12, 16, 26, 30, 
 70, 80, 89, 98, 151, 164, 166, 184. 
 WADDY, SAMUEL : Age 53; Large farmer; Ch.; Cons.; M. 
 
 Marion Bowles; 26, 62, 70, 123, 151, 190. 
 WADDY, MRS S. : Age 40; Nee Bowles; Ch.; Cons.; 26, 58, 
 
 62, 70, 97, 123, 148, 151, 160, 164, 190. 
 WADDY, WILLIAM, 'UNCLE' : D.; Great-grandfather David's 
 
 brother; a Waterloo veteran; 26. 
 WADDY FAMILY, THE : 70, 164. 
 WALKER, DR : Doctor at Bly; 138. 
 WALKER, MRS : Dr Walker's wife; 138. 
 WALTON, LAWYER : a Bly solicitor; Lib.; 170. 
 WARDLE, ARBUTHNOT, M.P. : Age 47; Barrister and Con- 
 servative member for Fletton Parliamentary Con- 
 stituency; lives at Thorpe-Tilney Croft; Ch.; Cons.; 
 M. Earl's niece; 6, 38, 55, 116, 118, 120, 126, 128, 167, 
 182, 189. 
 
 WATSON, FARMER : D.; Farmer on estate; 79. 
 WATSON, MRS : D.; Farmer Watson's widow, who was going 
 
 to be baptised but died first; 90. 
 WELLS, EDWARD : Age 29; son of Jabez; on active service; 
 
 M. K. Brown of Low Barnet; 38, 43. 
 WELLS, GEORGE; Age 31; son of Jabez; Wes.; Cons.; M. 
 
 Lydia Skinner; works for father; 43. 
 WELLS, MRS G. : Age 30; Nee Skinner; Daniel's daughter; 
 
 43. 
 
 WELLS, HILTON : Age 46; Jabez's brother; Ch.; Cons.; 
 Landlord of Ship Inn; butcher and milk dealer; M. 
 Bertha Oldfield; captain of the (manual) fire engine; 
 104, 106, 175, 190. 
 
 WELLS, MRS H. : Nee Oldfield; 190. 
 WELLS, JABEZ: Age 52; Small farmer; Wes.; Cons.; M. 
 
 Rebecca Jorkins; 38, 43, 97, 188, 190. 
 WELLS, MRS J. : Age 46; Nee Jorkins; Wes.; Lib.; 188, 190. 
 WELLS, LIZZIE : Age 14; Servant-maid at Thompson Rowett's; 
 
 Jabez's youngest daughter; 122. 
 WELLS, REUBEN: Age 50; Wes.; Lab.; M. G. Ambrose; 
 
 Farm-worker at Hemsleys; 190. 
 WELLS, MRS R.; Nee Ambrose; 190. 
 WELLS, SUSAN: Age 22; lives at home; Sp.; Wes.; Cons.; 
 
 Jabez's eldest daughter; 43. 
 
 WHITE, LAWYER : of Bly; David Todd's father-in-law; 177. 
 
 277
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 WILDERS, BEN : Age 40; Gardener at Towers; M . H. Hemsley 
 
 Cons,; Ch.; 24. 
 WILDERS, JOE : Age 34; Gardener at Towers; M. Muriel 
 
 Goose; Cons.; Ch.; 24. 
 WILDERS, MARY: Age 37; Organist at church; Sp.; Ch.; 
 
 Cons.; lives with mother and runs haberdashery and 
 
 sweet shop; 58, 77, 100, 102, 129, 179. 
 WILLIAMSON, ADAH : Age 24; Maid at Towers; Sp.; Ch.; 
 
 Lib.; Betty's daughter; Father unknown; 24, 30, 36, 
 
 83, 115, 124. 
 WILLIAMSON, BETTY: Age 67; 'Witch'; Sp.; no religion or 
 
 politics; mother of Leah and Adah by different fathers; 
 
 36, 82, 83, 86, 103, 105, 124, 129, 140, 148, 159, 175, 
 
 188, 189. 
 WILLIAMSON, GRANDMOTHER (BLACK BESS) : D.; mother of 
 
 Betty and Timothy; 83, 86. 
 WILLIAMSON, LEAH: Age 40; lives with Tom Bavin; Sp.; 
 
 No religion; Cons.; Father unknown; Betty's daughter; 
 
 3, 36, 83, 86, in, 124, 171. 
 WILLIAMSON, TIMOTHY : Age 66; Potato merchant and corn 
 
 dealer; chemical manure agent and market gardener; 
 
 Ch.; Cons.; M. Annie Woolerton; 7, 36, 142, 168. 
 WINCEY, GREAT-AUNT: D.; Great-aunt to the Viscount; 
 
 22, 32. 
 WINTER, MELCHIZEDEC : Age 64; Teacher of painting at 
 
 Art School at Bly; 185. 
 WINTERBOURNE,|ENOCH : Age 61; Trap hawker and small 
 
 general shop; P.M.; Lib.; M. Keziah Swinton; 6, 20, 
 
 39, 48, 73, 100, 146, 161, 167, 189. 
 WINTERBOURNE, MRS E. : Age 55; Nee Swinton; 189. 
 WOODS, ANTHONY : Age 58; Large farmer; Parish Councillor; 
 
 B.; Ch.; Cons.; 56, 74, 80, 96, 165, 184. 
 WOOLERTON, HENRY : Age 47; General storekeeper; baker 
 
 and grocer; Parish Councillor; Wes.; Lib.; M. Jane 
 
 Ruston; 2, 20, 31, 42, 55, 125, 182. 
 WOOLERTON, JANE (MRS H.) : Age 48; Nee Ruston; Wes.; 
 
 Lib.; 20, 43, 51, 55, 96, 106, 129, 161, 182. 
 WOOLERTON, MOLLY : Age 9; Schoolgirl; Henry's daughter; 
 
 20, 50. 
 
 WOOLERTON, ROBIN : Age 13; Schoolboy; Henry's son; 20. 
 WOOLERTON, TOM : Age 34; on active service; M. L. 
 
 Potterton; 38. 
 
 WOOLERTON FAMILY, THE : 61, 75. 
 WYNN, SIR WILLIAM : Davis Moggs's old landlord in Wales; 
 
 146. 
 
 278
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 PRINCIPAL FAMILY TREES 
 
 AMBROSE 
 
 GOOSE 
 
 PINION 
 
 ATKIN 
 
 HARKER 
 
 PRATT 
 
 BARKS 
 
 HARROD 
 
 ROWETT 
 
 BARLEY 
 
 HEMSLEY 
 
 RUSTON 
 
 BAVIN 
 BONES 
 
 HIDES . 
 HODGSON 
 
 SHARPLES 
 SKINNER 
 
 BOWLES 
 
 HOLMES 
 
 SMITHSON 
 
 BURROWS 
 CHALLANDS 
 COOK 
 COOTE 
 
 JACKSON 
 JENKINS 
 JORKINS 
 KEY 
 
 STOWER 
 SWINTON 
 THARP 
 TODD 
 
 CREASEY 
 
 KING 
 
 TOULSON 
 
 CUTTS 
 
 LOWE 
 
 WADDY 
 
 DANE 
 
 MAKINS 
 
 WELLS 
 
 DOBNEY 
 
 MAPLETHORPE 
 
 WILDERS 
 
 DODDS 
 
 OLDFIELD 
 
 WILLIAMSON 
 
 DRING 
 
 OVERTON 
 
 WOOLERTON 
 
 (Note. The numbers of children given refer to those 
 born, whether dead or alive at present time.) 
 
 279
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 
 _ ^ 
 
 W 5 
 
 h 
 
 i 
 
 w 
 o 
 
 
 3 
 
 
 
 <! 
 
 b 
 
 
 
 
 
 o 
 
 
 
 Q 
 
 H 
 
 
 
 W 
 
 - 
 
 cr 
 
 
 
 
 S 
 
 
 a 
 
 0> 
 
 S 1 
 
 ! 
 
 
 
 i B 
 
 1 
 
 
 1 fl 
 
 4) 
 
 ^^ *^ M 
 
 E 
 
 
 S 2 
 
 13 o 
 
 h 
 
 
 7-1 
 
 JL -S 
 
 _ -8 
 
 *8 
 ( 
 
 
 S o 
 
 al 
 
 < 
 
 
 & f^ 
 
 m 
 
 > 
 
 
 H ^ 
 
 fl 
 
 
 M 
 
 I 
 
 W 6 
 
 O o 
 
 co 
 
 ^ UJ 
 
 5 2 
 Q ~8 
 
 < 
 i* 
 P 
 
 4 
 
 8 
 
 60 
 r-j 
 
 hy O 
 
 C3 ?5 
 
 *W Jit -H 
 
 ^2 * 
 r_J2 w 
 
 * 
 
 " 
 
 g r 
 
 5 w 
 
 Q 61 
 U i 
 
 E | H 
 
 >,"~3 ^ i 
 
 < 3 S 
 
 O tr. , 
 
 u Q V^j 
 
 A PQ 
 
 
 ^ S 
 
 __o PQ 
 
 CO 
 
 * 
 
 S 
 
 w 
 
 ^ "q 
 j 
 
 U W 4) 
 
 * s 
 
 P 3 "o 
 
 (- 
 
 c 
 d 
 
 
 ? 
 t 
 
 W |X 
 
 - * 
 
 L 
 
 
 ^OJ 
 
 fH W 
 
 
 
 3 
 
 fT.j ^H 
 
 ^^ WH 
 
 V a 3 
 
 M T3 
 
 
 
 C 5 ^~" 
 
 i H -9 
 S >; -g 
 
 ] 
 
 
 <3 " 
 
 K rf co 
 
 
 
 
 S ^ 
 
 O < ^-) 
 
 c 
 ( 
 
 *- 
 
 
 W M 
 
 P 
 
 
 
 o f^ 
 
 g 
 
 4 
 
 -t- 
 
 
 Jj w 
 
 | 
 
 1 
 
 
 . 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 C j 
 
 "t? 
 
 P 
 
 
 ,3 -d 
 
 H o 
 
 -r- c 
 
 t- 
 
 
 "~ * 
 
 W rrt 
 
 
 O 
 
 b 
 
 3 
 
 
 ^ o 
 
 . 1 
 
 w w 3 ""> 
 
 I? S 
 
 280
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 S3 >J ci ^ 
 
 1 
 
 ri S z? ^ 
 
 .9 
 
 ^ t "3 1 
 
 w d 
 
 ^ S ^ 
 
 S 
 
 C 'O 
 
 1 ^ 
 
 i ~ CJ 
 
 i ^ 
 
 s 2 M 
 
 
 j ** 
 
 
 r^ 
 CO 
 
 J 
 
 
 M 
 
 
 H 
 
 M 
 
 
 UJ 
 
 
 H 
 
 " 
 
 
 
 
 O 
 
 
 
 
 
 O 
 
 
 
 
 a 
 
 d 
 
 
 
 
 o 
 
 4-" 
 
 <u 
 
 
 
 
 3 
 
 1 I 
 
 < 
 
 
 
 CQ " 
 
 -i * 
 
 1 
 
 
 JH 
 
 ^ -rt 
 
 a 
 
 
 
 
 H 
 
 _2 I-* 
 
 8 
 
 * 
 
 
 4J i_. 
 
 J ^ 'S, 
 
 CU OT 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 I * 
 
 - ^ H' 
 
 en IH 
 O e3 
 
 a 
 
 W 
 
 BARLEY 
 1 
 
 s .5 
 
 05 2 <I w 
 
 I m a 
 
 t i 
 
 w -3 
 
 - I 1 - 
 
 s 
 
 J rt ^ -*3 
 
 d s g 
 
 ^2 d 'C 
 
 J< la > fl 
 
 w ^ w PQ K _ 
 
 > Hepzibah 
 1 
 :hildren 
 
 
 "s. c I 
 
 Q 
 
 13 
 
 ^ W 
 w ^ w 
 
 Q) r4 nJ 
 ^ ^. 
 
 H V^ 
 
 -i* 
 
 
 G) 
 
 !> 
 
 b 3 
 
 Cu HH 
 
 H 
 
 
 * 
 
 
 ^1 U 
 
 
 
 
 
 u~> 
 
 
 
 
 
 > w 
 
 
 
 
 d 
 
 1^ f3 
 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 Q 2 
 
 
 
 
 g 
 
 i-l 
 
 
 
 
 .2 
 
 5 
 
 
 
 
 j5 
 
 Q 
 
 d 
 
 Q 
 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 W ^H 
 
 C/} ' 
 
 CO 
 
 bo 
 
 
 d 
 
 ,J 
 
 w ~^ 
 
 1 
 
 
 3 
 
 I 
 
 1, 
 
 HJ 
 
 
 a 
 
 
 
 
 
 kj w 
 
 ^ 
 
 D 
 
 
 
 W ^ 
 
 "|| 
 
 i 
 
 S c 
 
 
 s 1 
 
 s^ rt 
 
 $ S 
 
 <u o> 
 
 
 Q ro 
 
 5 
 
 
 a * 
 
 o 
 
 
 ~| 
 
 1 
 
 -M 
 
 H oo 
 
 _I 
 
 22 "^ 
 
 w 
 
 <! 
 
 -3 " 
 1 
 
 281
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 W rt irs *~* 
 
 M 
 
 O r> 
 
 
 
 W ""* M -^ 
 
 i 
 
 ffi 
 
 g 3 
 
 
 
 w 
 
 
 w < 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 43 
 
 I_l 
 
 
 
 T3 
 
 
 
 o g 
 
 
 
 ' S C/5 _, 
 M V " _^J C 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 O il I ~r 
 
 g 
 
 
 W 
 
 
 
 
 S 
 
 H 
 
 -| 
 
 
 
 Q 2 g ^ 
 
 
 
 S * 
 
 <! H 
 N 
 
 
 
 rn o ^ 
 
 
 o u 
 
 _ <! 
 
 
 
 M 
 
 
 !> 
 
 t-H 
 
 
 H 
 
 <; 
 
 
 >. u 
 
 K 
 H S, 
 
 
 O 
 
 (3 
 
 
 
 
 O 
 
 
 1 
 
 55 C >- 
 
 
 
 ,, 
 
 
 43 
 
 
 
 < V"j ro T: 
 
 
 
 2 
 
 
 CD 
 
 
 ffi 
 
 w PH 'S 
 
 & ja 
 
 t/3 k-i ^ 
 
 M 
 
 ~~ 
 
 
 "ft 
 
 
 
 S 
 
 , , 
 
 _ w 
 
 PQ 
 
 
 S CH 
 
 
 D 
 
 
 f*^ c 
 
 
 
 
 .-J ^ 
 
 
 BURROWS 
 ied twice) A. Watso 
 1 
 
 1 : i! I 
 
 w s 1 
 
 s it M 
 s|_ |l 
 -si. ^65,- 
 
 ^ 1 SI 
 
 H ffi U 
 
 9 0,1 
 
 Q 
 u 
 
 1 1 
 
 JACKSON ELSIE 
 COOK 
 
 TTTC- XT TD^+4-^,.4- 
 
 J 
 1 . 
 
 J 
 
 J 
 
 4 
 
 1 
 J 
 
 4 
 
 
 Z ~l 
 _w N 
 
 O JH 
 
 M 
 
 en 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 1 
 
 Q 
 
 55 
 
 X H 
 
 
 "f 
 
 
 J, 
 
 lH 
 
 JU > 
 
 _) 
 
 O 
 w 
 
 H 
 
 o 
 
 
 
 43 
 
 
 P 
 
 rt ^ 
 
 [ 
 
 ~> 
 
 M 
 U 
 
 
 
 o 
 
 
 
 tH T3 
 
 g 
 
 t/2 
 
 W 
 
 W M 
 
 ^ 
 
 Q 
 
 
 3 
 
 O 
 
 O 
 
 H 
 
 Q 
 
 ^ o3 3 
 
 
 w 
 
 
 K 
 
 O 
 
 W ^ 
 
 
 Q 
 
 5 
 
 
 
 H-l 
 
 00 
 
 
 i > 
 
 N 
 
 N u 
 
 w 
 
 
 F^ 
 
 | ( 
 
 
 en 
 
 
 ^ - 
 
 M 
 
 hH 
 
 
 
 
 
 !""> 
 
 
 "* 
 
 CO 
 
 h ) 
 
 
 S ^ 
 
 
 
 
 
 g 
 
 0) 
 
 
 
 ^ "Sb 
 
 
 H 
 
 
 H 
 
 a 
 
 
 
 5 8 s > 
 
 ) 
 
 
 W 
 
 
 _ 
 
 o 
 pq 
 
 
 
 p S 
 
 
 o 
 
 K^ H 
 
 H 
 
 P. 
 
 
 H 
 
 
 f-j H *f* 
 
 
 & > 
 
 W 
 
 (3 
 
 _ w 
 
 
 <! 
 
 
 M 
 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 
 U 
 
 
 (3 
 
 
 h" 1 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 d 
 
 
 
 
 HH 
 
 
 
 o 
 
 
 !> *" 
 
 
 
 
 
 w T3 
 
 
 
 
 ""-^^ 
 
 
 
 >-> ^ -3 
 
 
 -~T3 
 
 
 H 
 
 
 ^ a3 n 
 
 
 ffi 
 
 
 pj 
 
 w 
 
 rn _ti 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 H 
 
 
 W W M 
 
 K m 
 
 
 J 
 
 N 
 
 N 
 
 282
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 
 1 
 
 IE HON. 
 [AURICE 
 
 S5 * 
 
 o W 
 
 >2 & 
 
 fa 
 
 w o 
 
 OJ 
 
 O 
 
 c 
 
 c 
 
 3 
 
 PQ c 
 
 K 
 o 
 
 
 W 
 
 
 H ^ 
 
 o 
 1 
 
 HO 
 
 i 
 
 B 
 
 fuS 
 
 ^ 
 
 Q i-) 
 
 < ri 
 
 
 AN Lord KI 
 
 It 
 
 3g 
 
 II 1 
 5- B 2 
 
 > id 
 
 __^. 
 
 <J 
 
 (/) M 
 
 HH 
 
 1 
 
 SUSANNAH 
 NiE-Hicks "\A 
 
 
 M 
 
 <! 
 
 W 
 
 K 
 
 Pjl 
 
 W *t3 
 
 * 
 
 Ififl 
 
 W en 
 
 
 a 
 
 R- 
 
 5 
 
 W rrt 
 
 M ^ 
 
 W 
 O " 
 
 s 
 w 
 
 _) 
 
 M 
 
 <J 
 
 4 
 
 m 
 
 i- 
 ci3 cd 
 
 1 ^ ^ 
 _w^f^ PQ 
 
 fc O feH v.. 
 
 O 
 u ^ 
 
 o 
 
 hJ I, 
 
 < 
 
 w 
 
 If- 
 
 d 
 
 -| S _ 
 
 _Q <3 5< 
 W < 
 
 ^ ^ 
 
 
 > 
 
 H 
 J 
 
 w 
 
 THE HON. ARTHUR 
 e 
 
 U ^ 
 Q Q gj 
 W i-I 
 
 5 Q 
 
 vT O J 
 
 ^ S 
 
 dj " 
 
 g o 
 
 p^ ^^ 
 
 ^ w 
 
 M 
 
 3 
 O 
 
 d 
 
 1 
 
 s 
 
 N 
 
 1 
 WALTER A Stranger 
 
 *RIE MA 
 
 
 <u - 
 ||; 
 
 (U M 
 
 rt 3 ^ 
 
 M V 
 
 rt O 
 
 lh w 
 2 
 
 K 
 o 
 
 tg 
 
 Q T3 
 C0_| 
 
 w 
 
 
 H 
 
 "^ o 
 
 llfl 
 
 o I s 
 
 V 
 
 PRESENT E.A 
 (Geoffrey 
 
 ^^"^ L ^ 
 
 ^ >-. G H 
 ^ .2 t^ <-> 
 
 4 <! !> w 
 
 ^d| 
 
 ro 
 t) ^ 
 
 EMMANUEL 
 NOA 
 L.Ra 
 
 283
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 2 >J > < 
 
 w S3 3 
 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 W 
 
 H > ^ (0 
 
 B 
 
 a 
 
 
 O 
 
 <^ 
 
 
 
 
 H 
 
 
 D 
 
 
 T 2 v 
 
 1 .73 -M 
 
 
 
 
 y *3 >> 
 
 i>" 
 
 
 S N 1 
 
 | 
 
 
 
 o Q: 
 
 
 u 
 
 J 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 H 
 3 
 
 
 
 S5 
 
 
 
 S " 
 
 s a 
 
 
 
 
 w 
 
 H 
 
 M ^ 
 
 < 
 
 
 
 
 Jj 
 
 a 
 
 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 w 
 
 S 
 
 
 
 
 
 u 
 
 
 
 
 
 Q 
 
 ri 
 1) 
 
 a 
 
 
 
 ^> 3 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ^2 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 3 2 
 
 
 
 
 
 T3 , 
 
 J 
 
 a 
 
 -o" 
 
 
 rt j 
 
 2 d * 
 
 O T3 
 
 CUTTS 
 
 (Unmarrie 
 1 
 
 3 
 
 c^ W w 
 
 -s < 5- 
 
 d o ^ 
 
 *3 fe R c 
 o fl W g~ ^ | 
 
 . j $5 i >, ^ _ 
 
 -1 ^ i 
 
 pq ,fl g o ^3 M 
 
 T ^ 
 
 1 . rM 
 g H 
 
 4| 
 
 O 
 < 
 
 * 
 
 2 " H 8 w 
 
 H > - r\ 
 
 s vS 
 
 
 
 
 |p 
 
 
 
 | 
 
 'N 
 
 
 
 K 
 
 g _g 
 
 
 
 .1 
 
 1 
 
 S o 
 
 >, 
 
 
 "S 
 
 .1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 'E 2 
 
 
 
 < 
 
 
 
 
 
 ' 
 
 1 
 
 S -s 
 
 SB 
 
 O 
 
 o 
 
 J 
 
 1 
 1 
 
 p 
 
 4 
 | 
 I 
 1 
 
 a a 
 ju <D 
 
 W 2 
 
 
 < 5 
 
 tf 
 
 3 
 
 
 U CO 
 
 d 
 
 I 
 
 M O 
 
 
 3 
 
 w 
 
 ffi 
 
 ri ^ 
 
 _S l 
 
 O 
 
 _> H 
 
 j p(J 
 
 S5 O W 
 
 
 28 4
 
 I 
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 
 -I s i 
 
 i_r CO ^T^ 
 
 LJ HH 
 
 
 
 
 s 
 
 W ^3 
 
 
 
 
 oJ 
 
 
 
 
 j 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 CO 
 
 
 
 
 M 
 
 s 
 
 
 
 f- "^ 
 
 o 
 
 s 
 
 
 
 S ? 
 
 H 
 
 g 
 
 r- 
 
 
 H-, -0 
 
 
 [^ 
 
 1 
 
 
 i-1 K 
 
 
 T3 
 
 T ^ 
 
 s 
 
 CO 
 
 I S 
 
 -H 
 
 W "o 
 
 n TJ- 
 
 d 4) 
 
 
 W M 
 
 g 
 q 
 
 en < 
 
 K 
 S o <? 
 
 w i 
 
 
 1 
 
 Q J-T 
 
 | 
 
 Q _ 
 B 
 
 1-1 i " 
 
 >-J ^H 7 
 
 -I - 1 
 
 1 1 1 
 
 g 
 
 co H 
 
 13 >> [j, 
 
 <J '6 w 
 
 
 i 
 
 
 rt w 
 
 MH O 
 
 <{ 1 > 
 
 
 j^ 
 
 
 H & S5 
 
 
 
 
 W 
 
 fe 
 
 
 
 "^ ^ 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 S 
 
 o 
 
 
 
 
 C/5 
 
 
 
 
 s 
 
 
 
 0) 
 co 
 
 c 
 
 
 
 O 
 
 5 a 
 
 to (U 
 
 
 u 
 
 ,0 
 
 ffi rS 
 
 
 CD 
 
 
 
 
 & en 
 
 5 o? 
 
 < 
 
 1 ~~ : a 
 8 3 
 
 
 *5 
 
 o" d 
 
 " lO 
 
 
 o3 
 
 
 O 
 
 
 i ^ 
 
 ^ s 
 
 S 
 
 
 j-i 
 
 O 
 
 H * 
 
 M 
 
 . 1 
 
 
 P< K* 
 
 ij 3 
 
 
 m S 
 
 o S < o 
 
 285
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 
 1 
 
 _H 05 
 
 1 
 
 C/J 
 
 <U B> 
 
 C5 
 
 a 
 
 
 ~* ^ N 
 
 & 
 
 3 
 1 
 
 'ol 
 
 PQ 
 
 Pi 
 
 o S 
 
 i > 
 
 tjj 
 
 
 s P 
 
 
 
 
 H _2 
 
 ^* CH 
 
 
 
 
 ^ i-H 
 
 is 
 
 
 *r^ 
 
 1 r ^~ t 
 
 o 
 
 
 w 'g 
 
 ^l *^ 
 
 
 
 
 1 *f^ 
 
 H 
 
 
 
 erf N 
 
 1, "Tj 
 
 <J 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 
 J> 
 
 
 
 ifl 
 
 ,^N 
 
 _M j^ 
 
 
 
 
 - - 
 
 <J 
 
 
 
 
 d 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 
 
 A 
 
 
 en 
 
 
 
 rt 
 
 
 C 
 
 ctf 
 
 
 B 
 
 
 O 
 
 In 
 
 
 
 
 2 
 
 w 
 
 i 
 
 HARKER 
 GEORGE T. Benton 
 1 
 
 05 
 
 P4 o3 j-| 
 
 f^3 
 
 3ip 
 
 
 
 t> 
 
 . Pearson (of Hordle) 
 
 HEMSLEY 
 
 JONATHAN M. Watson 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 Lowe HAZEL B. Wi 
 1 
 i child 
 
 HIDES 
 
 ROBERT A. Gilliatt 
 1 
 
 H 
 
 HH 
 
 S 
 O 
 
 1 
 
 ) KEZIAH 
 
 
 
 """ h-l 
 
 M * 
 
 o3 
 
 jp 
 
 *c/5 
 
 i > 
 
 
 
 -> o 
 
 ,_) 
 
 2, 
 
 g 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 Burrows 
 
 
 
 M W 
 
 -H PQ 
 
 w 
 
 PH 
 
 
 w d 
 
 M hn 
 
 S " 
 
 a 
 
 n 
 
 1 
 
 VNNISTER 
 
 
 <fi 
 
 
 
 4, 
 
 H 
 
 PQ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 !/) 
 
 5- 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 d 
 
 2 
 
 
 
 n 
 
 
 o 
 
 m < 
 
 
 
 o 
 
 w 
 
 
 
 
 a> CQ 
 
 2 
 
 
 
 ~o 
 
 
 o 
 
 33 
 
 u 
 
 CM 
 
 
 HH 3 
 
 s 
 
 HM 
 
 <J 
 
 
 <U 
 
 ro JH 
 
 
 K 
 
 
 ^ 2 
 
 ~1 
 
 ^-1 
 
 
 H 
 
 i r ~< 
 
 o 
 
 M 
 
 
 h-C 
 
 rl ^ 
 
 PB 
 
 H 
 
 
 *s 
 
 PQ >O 
 
 -s 
 
 ^^ fft 
 
 a i & A 
 
 286
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 a s 
 
 
 ft, co 
 
 & 3 fl .3 
 
 i>~> 
 
 ^ 01 ^ 
 
 a 
 
 5 
 
 Q -S o 
 
 T g - 
 
 rC| 
 
 H 
 
 rS 
 
 O o 
 
 w y 
 g o '3 
 & | g 
 
 1 
 
 CD 
 E 
 
 o> 
 
 UM 
 
 1 1 1 
 
 w ^ 2 
 g 1-1 
 1 * 
 
 
 s 
 
 ___ ^ 
 
 HrQ Cd 
 O ^^-^ 
 
 w s 
 a cs 
 
 ^ a 
 7 
 
 < T3 
 
 CQ vo 
 P 
 
 W 
 
 M 
 
 
 <^ 
 
 ** "T3 (H 
 
 1 ^j 
 
 
 
 
 
 W rfl 
 
 
 
 
 ^D 
 
 O 
 
 
 
 
 ,$ 
 
 !5 ^ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 CO 
 
 
 
 r-*. a ^H 
 
 s 
 
 T3 
 
 
 c 
 
 
 ^ Th 
 
 
 H 
 
 O 
 
 
 o 
 
 H 
 
 ' * 
 
 1*1 
 
 ' ' M 
 
 
 
 H 
 
 
 co 
 
 * ^ 
 
 M 
 
 'g 
 
 
 
 m 
 
 ^~> ft* 
 
 O 
 
 s 
 
 1 
 
 "1 
 
 
 M 
 
 03 
 
 m 
 
 irl 
 
 C o 
 
 HODGSON 
 
 PHEN R. TA 
 
 :AH Rachael 
 
 1 
 children 
 
 cy) 
 
 h W 
 
 CD ^ 
 CO , , ^ 
 
 o " O 
 M .S nj 
 
 
 H 
 
 P 
 
 ~H 
 
 d 
 I 
 
 1 
 
 >rpe LABAN- 
 
 ! 
 
 3 > 
 3 
 
 O 
 
 4-> 
 || 
 
 O 
 
 u 
 ^d 
 
 --> 
 
 CD 
 "ft 
 
 <D f3 
 
 | 
 
 
 
 ~~ s .. . 
 
 o 
 
 c3 
 
 1J .^ 
 
 
 
 w o 
 
 K 
 
 g 
 
 .2 O 
 
 
 
 H "~ 
 C/) 
 
 J 
 
 9 g 
 
 M ''-* 
 
 crj ^> 
 
 
 
 
 
 N 2 
 
 H *-+ 
 
 ^~ 
 
 
 "C! 
 
 
 H 
 
 H 
 i 
 
 i 3 
 w 
 
 \ 
 
 
 E 
 
 H 
 
 H 
 
 K 
 
 >o 
 
 
 eg 
 
 
 5 o 
 
 
 
 ffi 
 
 cd o 
 W 
 
 
 i-l 13 
 i-) c3 
 S 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 li ^ S 
 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ o 
 
 
 ?' 
 
 Is 
 
 u 
 
 
 55 
 
 o 
 
 CD 
 
 
 ffi 
 
 
 
 
 ""- M 
 O 
 
 a 
 
 PQ 
 
 i > 
 
 tC CD 
 
 2 fl 
 
 
 -3 
 
 O , 
 
 
 << r3 
 I 
 
 *^j 
 
 
 
 > o 
 
 
 
 w ^ ^ 
 
 287
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 > 2 
 
 J O T- 
 
 
 i-J EC .^* 
 
 
 iS w o CQ 
 ^ 3 ^5 
 
 i 
 
 PQ S .^ 
 
 CO 
 
 T3 
 
 ^ 1 
 
 o 
 
 CT$ '"i 
 
 Q Cj 
 
 CO tJH < 
 
 ^! hM en 
 
 
 M td 
 n5 
 
 
 W < e 
 
 8_J | 
 
 o 2 
 
 ~" ~ H f+ 
 > & 
 
 * fQ <! 
 
 H ^ 
 
 
 
 5 O n5 (3 
 
 H 
 
 
 ^ 'TS CD 
 -^ r^ 
 
 <! -i. 
 
 
 
 -; _i 
 
 hH 
 
 H 
 H 
 
 
 5 *"* O 
 
 
 O 
 
 
 ,J g 
 
 
 i_J 
 
 
 iq 
 
 2 J? 
 
 
 
 
 
 << 
 
 g 
 
 
 
 
 j?>j 
 
 
 CO 
 
 
 
 
 J2 ri 
 
 Jj 
 
 
 
 
 ^ *rt 
 
 
 
 CO 
 
 
 
 o 
 
 u 
 
 1 
 
 g 
 
 o -> 
 
 
 CO 
 CD 
 
 i 
 
 Q t/J ^ 
 
 1 S 
 
 o o 
 
 c/) 
 
 M 
 
 ~ 
 
 i > 
 
 O 
 
 n 
 
 3 
 
 a 
 
 to 
 
 o ^5 QJ 
 
 Q Wo 
 
 > w 
 
 O 
 
 H 
 
 J 
 
 o 
 
 _ w 
 w 
 
 Q 
 J 
 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 O 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 w 
 
 
 
 >1 
 
 
 H 
 
 
 
 B 
 
 <; 
 O ^ 
 
 
 
 P 
 
 S j 
 
 
 
 ~ 
 
 Q 6 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 
 
 <j W 
 
 B 
 
 
 & 
 
 * 
 
 _! 
 
 
 
 CO 
 
 <z 
 
 
 A 
 3 
 
 1 
 
 w 
 o 
 
 
 rt 
 
 rt CO 
 
 
 
 C/3 
 
 S 2 
 
 B 
 
 rt 
 
 ffi 
 
 
 
 K 
 
 CH P T^ 
 
 
 
 
 O ^"> rd 
 
 u 
 
 o 
 
 49 
 
 ^ 
 
 0) 
 
 
 'r 2 
 
 <J ^ 
 
 1 1 
 * 1 
 
 Q 3 
 * 
 
 
 !3 
 
 ^< ~~~ ^ 
 
 ft 3 * 
 
 288
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 C/3 ^--~ 
 
 o> o 
 
 T3 a> H 
 
 
 I* J^ en ** -Y ' e* 
 
 i 2 
 
 
 o 
 
 < 3 (3 a 
 
 H 
 
 o < 
 
 
 H o 3 
 
 w d 
 
 
 
 rfi TO rQ 
 
 ~ t3 
 
 
 
 S^ ^3 
 
 PH 
 
 
 
 1 r9 
 
 W 
 
 
 
 w " 
 
 ffi 
 
 
 
 
 <<H 
 
 
 ft 
 cr 
 
 
 
 1 > 
 
 
 (/ 
 pt 
 
 
 , 
 
 
 CO 
 
 PC 
 
 
 "CD 
 
 
 C 
 
 
 
 r p | 
 
 
 03 
 
 
 
 o3 
 
 ^ 
 
 S 
 
 
 
 
 J9 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 o 
 
 
 
 
 a 
 
 en nj 
 0) 4J 
 
 g a 
 
 O 
 CO* 
 
 C 
 
 d 
 
 
 
 O p-i 
 
 ,_._, 
 
 1 
 
 o 
 
 en 
 O 
 
 co| 
 
 
 
 i 
 -3 
 
 
 
 Q 
 
 f-l , -g 
 
 1 
 
 XLIAM- 
 
 JQ 
 
 P 
 
 i- 
 
 1 1 
 
 M H 
 
 
 H ? w S. 
 
 ^ 
 
 | 
 
 - 
 
 !5 
 
 H-> 
 
 g 
 
 HH d^ 
 
 
 4 
 t- 
 
 3 
 
 6 
 
 t^" -4-> 
 
 W 
 
 
 I-,. 
 
 
 | - 
 
 CD 
 
 
 rd fj 
 
 ^-i CD 
 
 
 & 
 
 
 W J3 
 
 H 
 H 
 
 O 
 
 
 n 
 
 rl - 
 
 ~" N * 
 
 C 
 
 CD 
 
 [>! V-l 
 
 
 * w 
 
 ~3 
 
 
 o 
 
 ^ u 
 
 
 M 
 
 " en 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 CO 
 
 
 d 
 
 
 
 
 
 T3 
 
 
 en 
 
 i 
 
 
 M 
 
 H 
 
 
 ^3 c! 
 
 3 c 
 
 
 PH JJ 
 
 PH "- 1 
 
 
 o3 ^ 
 
 ^J 
 
 
 i-i 
 
 g o 
 
 H r^ 
 >-H O 
 
 W 
 
 ~~ w * 
 
 w 
 
 1 > 
 
 289 
 
 c/> 
 p 
 
 i 
 
 -d 
 
 KH 
 
 o 
 
 s 
 
 en 
 
 ORTON 
 
 H O 
 
 Q 
 
 SARAH 
 
 K 
 o 
 
 Q
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 0, 
 
 2 u M 2 wo 
 
 
 1 a w 5 2 .0 
 
 
 w 
 
 < ro 2i 
 
 
 
 
 g 
 
 
 i j " 
 
 
 X 
 
 
 
 
 o 
 
 
 
 
 N 
 
 
 TJ 
 
 
 
 
 ^ g 
 
 O 
 M 
 
 
 
 fe 1 Q | 
 
 I 
 
 O 
 
 
 " ffl"? 
 
 d 
 
 OJ 
 
 O & 
 
 0> 
 
 u 
 
 LOWE 
 
 WILLOUGHBY T. Key 
 
 1 
 T WILFRED O. 
 
 1 
 JEREMIA 
 
 No 
 MAKINS 
 HENRY E. Enderby 
 
 h King EMMY I 
 
 1 
 5 childr 
 
 MAPLETHORPE 
 ABEL V. Dobney 
 
 "oT 
 1 
 
 s Munks MARTHA J 
 ters 12 child 
 
 
 M 
 
 n3 
 
 ^ 
 
 > a 
 
 
 M 
 
 >-i C 
 
 
 
 ~ "o 
 
 
 9 
 
 W ^ 
 
 1 
 
 00 
 
 
 
 W ^ 
 
 a 1 
 
 'd 
 
 
 
 O 
 
 
 M 
 
 
 
 - ro 
 
 
 ^5 
 
 
 
 
 i_j 
 
 C/) >< 
 
 
 D 
 
 
 
 S 
 
 
 a 
 
 
 cj 
 
 
 
 _, rt 
 M o en 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 ^ ^ *b>^ 
 
 
 w 
 
 
 
 aw 
 C/5 C3 
 
 u 
 
 o 
 I ) 
 
 <n 
 
 
 O T) ^5 _ 
 
 g 
 
 . 
 
 .9 
 
 
 |"| 
 
 
 C/D 
 
 ~ 
 
 O 
 
 
 1 "J ^ hiH ,, 
 
 P 
 
 a 
 
 
 IH cj^ " in 
 
 S 
 
 
 
 S >2Lt-^ir5 ^ 
 
 
 " ^3 
 
 
 W 3 
 
 Jj d) 
 
 o -5 
 
 4~1 
 
 
 1 ^ 
 
 rg 
 
 W 
 
 
 w <J 
 
 2 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 g, 
 
 2 o 
 P-4 rn 
 
 290
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 42 >> H 
 
 a> rt T3 W 
 
 ^ & "n '13 
 
 ~2 
 
 jj 
 
 1 > . M 
 
 M 
 
 O 
 
 w H 
 
 
 
 
 H 
 
 
 
 
 & 
 
 -P 
 
 
 
 
 w g_g 
 
 
 
 
 * 
 
 M 
 
 
 
 d 
 
 SH 
 
 
 
 K*" O 
 
 o 
 
 
 
 0) H 
 
 
 OLDFIELD 
 :NRY G. Fennington 
 I 
 
 1 
 
 RUFUS 
 
 ren 
 
 OVERTON 
 
 HN Amy Wade (of Holt) 
 1 
 
 1 1 
 
 HARRIET TILLY- 
 M. Holmes J. Harv 
 
 1 1 
 6 children No child 
 
 PINION 
 
 RLES Olivia Strawson 
 
 1 
 
 NALD Norah Widdowson 
 
 1 
 URIE Mildred Bugg 
 
 w 
 
 'O O 
 
 < 
 
 o < 
 
 K 
 
 
 -1 7 
 
 3 1 
 
 J 
 
 
 
 fc 
 
 dl 1 
 
 
 
 
 6 
 
 w c 
 
 
 
 is 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 
 
 o 
 
 
 
 
 
 M 
 
 
 w fl 
 
 fl 53 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 3 -o 
 
 <u 
 
 
 13 
 
 
 w >5 '3 
 
 
 
 
 q 
 
 | 
 
 8 fl o 
 
 g 
 
 
 1 
 
 o> 
 
 W .0 
 
 o 
 
 C/3 -9 
 
 
 M 
 
 t> 
 
 o g 
 
 
 W o 
 
 
 w 
 
 M 2 
 
 g 
 
 2 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 w 3 'a 
 
 _w 
 
 M 
 
 uJ 
 
 y ,n 5 B 
 
 o 
 
 t~i 
 
 3 o ^ w H 
 
 2QT
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 
 a? "aT S 
 
 
 
 
 T3 $ 
 
 
 
 
 ^K O 
 
 
 
 
 '/~' *+^ 
 
 d 
 
 0) 
 
 
 
 (!) 
 
 (3 
 
 | W 
 
 i 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 -; < 
 
 
 y 
 
 ^ W <5 
 
 2 
 
 Q 
 
 J3 -a 
 
 
 
 
 
 j 
 
 H> __ 
 
 o 
 
 r 4 "^ 
 
 i 
 IP 
 
 Tj 
 
 W 
 
 S 
 
 
 C I- 1 fe 
 
 
 ~> c 
 
 
 ^j 
 
 
 <!j ''O 
 
 H 
 
 ^ 1 
 
 ,x 
 
 
 
 1-3 j| g 
 
 
 
 IH 
 
 
 
 H p fj 
 
 I 
 
 1 
 
 i " 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 W n ^ T> 
 _K r3 
 
 
 
 J^ 
 
 
 
 
 PH I^H ^ 
 
 
 
 S "^ 
 
 ^ a 
 o 
 
 g 
 
 
 
 
 
 C/5 
 
 
 > 
 
 
 
 ^ " ) ^J Q . 
 
 ^: ^ 
 
 
 
 
 i"| 
 
 W 
 
 J 
 
 g 
 
 C 
 
 
 
 525 S 
 
 
 
 
 ~$ "*" 
 
 
 2 
 
 
 
 fl rf 2 
 
 
 
 
 
 ^J 
 
 o 
 
 
 
 o 9 
 
 
 
 
 
 K 
 
 o 
 
 o 
 
 
 
 4J ^M>H 
 
 i, O 
 
 S W 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Q 
 
 a 
 
 0^ 
 
 
 O ^ 
 
 o -g 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 -* 
 
 
 
 
 w 
 
 PRATT 
 1 
 
 gj 
 
 1 
 UB-FOOT' GE 
 
 ROWETT 
 
 :AH D. Daw 
 1 
 
 r . Ruston 
 
 en 
 RUSTON 
 
 ,/CTTXTT-> C r^ll 
 
 1 
 
 pi 
 
 i 
 
 | 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 . Finder 
 
 4J 
 H-( r^J 
 
 -l~! 
 
 1 
 
 EDMUND J 
 
 
 O 
 
 42 
 
 < 
 W W 
 
 - HH 
 
 
 
 'd Q 
 
 t- 
 
 d 
 
 o 
 
 
 
 
 
 i . 
 
 
 
 r i^ 
 
 
 1 
 
 d 
 
 d 
 
 
 
 
 OT 
 
 Q 
 _O 
 
 u 
 
 
 3 
 
 H 
 
 0) 
 
 g 
 
 d 
 
 
 fi * 
 
 * 
 
 "o ^ 
 
 ft ^3 
 
 W 
 
 K 
 
 H 
 
 -B 
 
 W 
 
 3 
 
 H-l 
 
 s w 
 
 W c 
 
 
 a 
 
 5 r< 
 
 ^1 r^ 
 
 
 
 
 
 *p3 
 
 
 c 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 _ ^j *O 
 
 g O 
 
 
 2 H 
 
 01 
 
 Cj ;_, 
 
 u 
 
 H 
 
 
 
 
 "" ^J CO 
 
 
 >a 
 
 "~ 
 
 ^5 ^p 
 
 g 
 
 H 
 
 
 
 S 
 
 
 
 N 
 
 o 
 
 
 ~^ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 t 
 
 j m 
 
 2 
 
 , 
 
 
 
 B 
 
 g 
 
 
 4 
 
 i 
 
 c/j 
 
 5 
 
 o3 
 
 u 
 B 
 
 -M 
 _fl 
 
 
 
 O 
 
 K 
 
 o 
 
 <fl 
 
 W ^ 
 
 P 
 
 B 
 H 
 
 Sri 
 
 * 
 
 1 
 
 
 rt ' 
 
 'S w 
 
 H 
 9 
 
 T3 M 
 
 ^_ 
 
 4-> 
 
 C/3 
 
 
 
 
 < 
 
 g 5 - 
 
 
 
 " fl 
 
 ^; 
 
 
 " l ' 
 
 
 )! 
 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 o 
 
 
 S ~h4 
 
 
 
 
 O r 
 
 <n 
 
 1 
 
 ~ o >^ 
 
 . 
 
 
 
 1-4 (At 
 
 ~3 ~~ S 
 
 
 
 hH 
 
 Q 
 
 
 
 ^f *Tl r\ 
 
 *J 
 
 
 _ o 
 
 
 < ^ B 
 o H 
 
 C/5 
 
 S 
 
 292
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 -a W -8 
 
 4 
 
 3 fc 1 3 
 
 o tn ^ 
 
 t 
 
 
 H W i^ !2 
 
 
 s 
 
 
 M ~3 
 
 
 1 
 
 4 
 
 
 PQ * 
 
 1 
 
 s 
 
 
 PQ 
 
 
 
 O rq 
 
 ^4 brf 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 J 
 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 
 j 
 
 
 
 H 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 3 
 
 
 >! 
 
 P 
 
 
 
 
 PQ 
 
 P 
 
 f 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 o 
 
 
 
 [i 
 
 H 
 
 i g 
 
 -> ^ 
 
 
 ; 
 
 
 i 
 f 
 
 1 ^ 
 
 3 3 
 
 , o 
 
 \ M 
 
 a 
 
 ^ 
 13 
 
 1 
 
 ! 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 o 
 
 
 
 I 
 
 1 
 
 -2 
 
 C/) 
 
 
 H 
 
 
 > 
 
 
 9 
 
 
 (4 
 
 
 rj 
 
 -1*1 
 
 
 H 
 
 i 
 
 I" 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 | 
 
 - 
 
 rt 
 
 r 
 
 
 
 j 
 
 
 s 
 
 a 1 
 
 fin 
 
 < I 
 
 (^ 
 
 NNER 
 
 T?T \TIT 1 
 
 4 
 
 
 n 
 
 i 
 
 
 o $ 
 
 C/D u 
 
 ^ H U 
 
 
 
 > i 
 
 ^ w 
 6 
 
 w 
 
 B g 
 
 
 r1 M 
 
 W K 
 
 
 1 a 
 
 I 
 
 
 O 
 
 HH 
 
 H 
 
 c ' P 
 o 
 
 
 _j3 ' 5 
 
 
 O 
 
 H 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 r 
 
 ] 
 
 
 o 
 
 ^1 
 
 H 
 
 i ( 
 
 3 
 
 
 P 
 
 1 H 
 
 
 
 
 
 t> ^J 
 
 CO 
 
 i 
 
 H 
 
 
 * 
 
 
 c c 
 
 (-1 fll 
 
 "o 
 
 H 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 P 
 
 < 
 
 1 2 
 
 
 ffi 
 
 
 
 
 
 t 
 
 
 J 
 
 ! 3 
 
 
 W 
 
 
 
 
 
 s 
 
 
 <^ 
 
 ! ^ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 fl 
 
 
 Q 'O 
 
 <jH 
 
 M 
 
 H 
 M 
 
 
 W 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 
 5 
 
 W 
 
 
 g 
 
 
 
 
 P 
 
 h 
 
 4 
 
 ! 
 
 
 Q 
 _> 
 
 -g 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 f4 
 
 
 
 
 fc 
 
 A 
 
 
 
 
 Q 
 
 1 45 
 
 
 f^* 
 
 O 
 
 
 
 
 3 o 
 
 
 a 
 
 W 
 
 o 
 
 1 K 
 
 
 <u 
 
 i- 
 
 -> 
 
 
 Q 
 
 
 a 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 H 
 
 _l 
 
 M 
 
 
 o 
 
 Q 
 
 H 
 1 > 
 
 O 
 1 > 
 
 W 
 
 293
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 el 3 -g 
 
 2 *-\ rf4 frl _LJ 
 
 _g 
 
 
 2 (5 53 A'' 
 o " [L P-i 
 
 He/) ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 T 
 
 
 
 ti 5 S 
 
 
 
 w J2 
 
 w |S 
 
 
 
 c +; ?! 
 
 hl ^ 
 
 
 
 1 ^ o 
 
 u 
 
 o 
 
 
 MM H 
 
 (D 
 
 1 1 
 
 
 1 > 
 
 73 *< 
 
 
 
 
 PQ j, 
 
 
 
 G H 
 
 
 
 
 K, O <3 
 
 </) (H 
 
 _g|_2 < 
 
 1 
 
 C^ T) 
 
 
 
 K 
 M 
 
 h 
 
 
 ^ ^ 
 
 _ri 
 
 
 
 
 
 H 
 
 w ^ 
 
 
 
 
 M 
 
 ti 
 
 
 
 
 H 
 
 S C 
 
 
 
 
 O 
 
 Crf jj 
 
 o o> 
 w -r 
 bb 
 
 
 
 OWER 
 H. Enderby 
 
 -(-> 
 
 (D 
 
 e a 
 
 O <u r! 
 
 -3-1-1 l 
 PC? 1 b < 
 
 ^^ CO | |_ 
 
 T3 
 
 <-i Q 
 
 [^ M 
 
 1 3 PL< ^ 
 
 d <fi os H 
 
 W n jj 
 
 "w^ 
 1 
 
 a 
 
 
 u 
 JW 
 
 
 H . 
 co 
 
 Q 
 
 <tj 
 
 a fl S a 
 
 fi <u 3 
 
 a 3 ^ 8 
 
 J5 ^ 
 
 3s 1 a 
 
 O fe 
 
 PH W 
 PQ 
 u 
 
 I <; 
 2 3 
 
 0) 
 
 o 
 
 2 
 
 re AARON 
 
 
 tuO 
 
 ^ 
 
 o 
 
 ^ 
 p 
 
 
 
 
 P rrt 
 
 2j 
 
 
 
 
 H OJ JJ 
 
 T~~;s 
 
 < 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 < 3 
 
 tn ro 
 
 Q 
 
 
 
 
 E rQ >O 
 
 " 
 
 1 > 
 
 
 
 
 O 
 
 o 
 
 
 
 
 a 
 
 e 
 
 "% 
 
 
 
 O " 
 
 Q 
 
 tf-* 
 
 
 
 y 
 
 9 
 
 a 
 
 
 
 1 'o ^i 
 
 w 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 M 
 
 
 
 5 
 
 .a 
 
 PQ 
 
 d 
 
 
 5? w 
 
 j^. 
 
 
 B 
 
 
 
 [^ 
 
 ^J 
 
 E 
 
 
 
 
 
 ^^ 
 
 r O 
 
 
 rrt V-l 
 
 . -a 2 
 
 7 
 
 H 
 
 -a 
 
 o 
 
 
 
 ^4 
 
 K 
 
 
 M Q ^ 
 
 M 
 
 ~ """""" CQ 
 
 ro 
 
 294
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 K 
 
 fc 
 
 P 
 
 Q 
 
 ; t * 
 
 r r > w o 
 
 A W 
 
 
 -Q 
 
 t- 
 
 , 
 
 3 
 
 
 
 
 
 g w 
 
 
 
 9 
 
 & 
 
 
 
 ft 
 
 a 
 o 
 
 ~~o 
 
 1 
 
 
 o 
 
 -!-> 
 
 s 
 
 7 
 
 
 
 H 
 
 
 W 
 
 
 O 
 
 Q 
 
 
 1 
 I 
 
 
 
 p 
 
 
 _f 
 
 
 
 ft 
 
 <5 
 
 6 
 
 
 
 
 Q 
 
 
 
 
 Q 
 
 ^~~ p-J 
 
 < 
 
 
 
 
 
 S 
 
 
 a 
 o 
 
 co 
 
 
 a 
 
 p 
 
 4 
 
 fj 
 
 s 
 
 P 
 
 
 CM 
 
 4J 
 
 <3 
 
 3 
 
 
 
 rK 
 
 
 i 
 
 Q w 
 
 <f 
 
 H 
 w 
 
 i 
 
 
 . Thomson 
 
 ^ O 
 
 rt C/5 W 
 
 .a 1-1 
 
 m J~) 
 co ^r co 
 
 O < 
 *" H S 
 
 
 O 
 
 
 ffi 
 
 o 
 | H 
 
 1 
 1 
 1 
 1 
 
 H 
 
 
 ~~55 
 
 ~~~~ c 
 
 
 
 K. 
 
 
 4-> 
 
 I 
 
 o 
 i> 
 
 P 
 
 P 
 
 f 
 
 
 i 
 
 | 
 
 a 
 
 (- 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 to 
 
 
 
 
 
 JS 
 
 1 
 
 < 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 O 
 
 
 
 IS 
 
 i > 
 
 H 
 
 
 
 o 
 
 
 <j 
 
 
 1-1 
 
 B 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 H 
 
 H 
 
 
 
 W 
 
 ! 
 
 
 <D 
 
 '1 
 
 
 o c 
 
 c 
 
 
 M g 
 
 
 
 B 
 
 
 
 
 t 
 
 
 iH 
 
 
 
 W O 
 
 hH - 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 
 ji _ i 
 
 o ^ 
 
 Q 
 
 
 
 w 
 
 -a 
 
 295
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 fr 
 
 T3 
 O 
 
 u 
 
 H 
 
 r rg 
 
 Jrf ^ 
 
 o 7 
 
 !5 
 
 W 
 
 o ~~~ 
 
 
 1) o 
 
 W 
 
 r O HH 
 
 1 > 
 
 
 R 
 
 
 
 w , 
 
 
 
 M 
 
 
 
 
 c/5 ^ 
 
 Q 
 
 
 h4 
 H 
 
 3 
 
 1 
 
 
 n 
 
 aj 
 
 1 
 
 ^ 
 
 M 
 
 M 
 
 
 H 
 
 __ JD 
 
 
 _c 
 
 a 9 
 
 5? C/5 
 
 
 ; ^ 
 
 Q <j 
 P 1- 
 
 1 
 
 d 
 
 0) 
 
 i 
 
 * 
 
 o 
 
 1 
 
 Q 
 
 cd 
 
 S 
 
 
 
 5 
 
 5 
 
 
 I ^ |~ 
 
 M 
 M 
 
 
 C c/i 
 
 > 
 
 'fl 
 
 
 W !z;~ 
 
 ft 
 
 rt 
 
 
 H M 
 
 
 M 
 
 M 
 
 
 1 H 
 
 i 1 
 
 
 > 
 
 3 
 
 
 p - 
 
 35 
 
 
 
 g 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 M H 
 
 
 fl 
 
 
 S i 
 
 ^ 
 
 1 
 
 B 
 E 
 
 2 
 
 S 5 
 
 _W 
 
 ^ 
 
 o 
 
 a 
 
 o 
 
 ffi 
 
 0) 
 T3 
 
 3 
 
 M rt 
 
 LJ 0} 
 
 53 {tj 
 
 1-i 
 
 i 
 
 w o 
 
 -g 
 
 & 
 
 0) 
 
 K 
 
 _g 
 
 <! 
 
 O 
 
 -g 
 
 H 
 
 O 
 
 296
 
 OLD ENGLAND 
 
 d 
 o 
 
 w 
 
 9 
 
 5 
 
 H 
 
 . K 
 S 
 
 r^ 
 fi 
 
 s 
 
 -3 
 
 
 
 w 
 
 m 
 
 m 
 
 w 
 
 -i 
 
 3 
 H 
 
 W 
 
 B 
 
 (A 
 
 W 
 
 C 
 
 w 
 
 d 
 
 
 -i 
 
 
 <3 
 
 1 t 
 
 
 1 -" 
 
 
 
 H 
 
 
 0) 
 
 
 
 a 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 r^ "^ 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 5" 
 
 H 
 
 a 
 
 
 
 
 o 
 
 
 'C 
 
 
 
 
 
 s 
 
 
 J 
 
 
 a 
 
 
 a 
 
 
 P 
 
 "~ 
 
 l 
 
 ^ 
 
 H 
 
 O W 
 
 w 8 
 
 S CQ 
 
 O 
 H 
 rt x 
 W 
 
 H 
 M 
 
 B 
 
 T3 
 
 3 
 
 o 
 
 J o 
 
 3 ^ 
 
 t-J 
 
 o >; 
 o g 
 
 ""g 
 
 < 
 
 
 
 t^ DO 
 { I-H 
 
 " 
 
 ^ w 
 K 
 
 
 
 9 
 
 2 
 
 
 
 H 
 
 
 a 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 _ 
 
 a 
 
 > 
 
 
 r o 
 
 G 
 
 o 
 
 fj 
 
 
 _<u 
 
 1 S 
 
 CQ ,H 
 
 r*H ^O 
 
 -M 
 
 C/3 
 
 ti 
 
 jj 
 o 
 
 S 
 
 
 a 
 p 
 
 8 3 
 ^ * 
 
 CD 
 
 rt 
 
 
 >* 
 
 +* _*P 
 
 
 
 
 H 
 
 *S o 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 H 
 
 * 
 
 II 
 
 
 s 
 
 > fl "~^ 
 
 
 
 w' S 
 
 *^ M 
 
 M * > 
 
 _3 
 o 
 
 J 
 
 
 
 297
 
 GLASGOW I W. COLLINS SONS AND CO. LTD.
 
 Some New Publications 
 
 from MESSRS COLLINS' LIST 
 
 Published from their London Offices, 48 PALL MALL, S.W. 
 
 NOTE. ^Messrs Collins will always be pleased 
 to send lists of their forthcoming books to any 
 one who will send name and address. 
 
 From Waterloo to the Marne 
 
 COUNT PIETRO ORSI 
 
 Small Crown 4to, Cloth, I5/- net 
 
 This is a book which should be read by all those who wish to 
 arrive at an accurate knowledge of the causes and condition which led 
 up to and provoked the Great World War of 1914-1918, and are 
 responsible for the world unrest of to-day. The author, the well-known 
 Italian Professor of International History, describes in this book, 
 clearly and logically, the rise, the ebb and flow of the international 
 democratic spirit which floods the world of to-day. He shows the 
 nexus which unites all races and nations of the world into one coherent 
 whole, and traces with admirable clarity the birth, life, and struggles 
 of that desire for popular liberty which first penetrated into every 
 corner of Europe with the armies of the great Napoleon. It is a com- 
 pendium of the history of each country of the world, and should be 
 read by each student who not only wishes to familiarise himself with 
 the history of the last century of his own country, but desires also to 
 gain a solid acquaintance of that of the remaining countries of the 
 globe. The arrangement of the book is excellent and original; the 
 libraries of every nation have been ransacked for its compilation, and 
 the work, without being in the least degree scrappy, gives all the 
 salient points of universal history. This historical encyclopedia should 
 be in the hands of every thinking man.
 
 The Carpenter and His Kingdom 
 
 DR ALEXANDER IRVINE 
 
 Crown 8vo, Cloth, 7/6 net 
 
 Dr Irvine has already secured a very high place in the affections 
 of the people of this country through his books, My Lady of the Chimney 
 Corner and The Souls of Poor Folk. The Carpenter and His Kingdom, 
 as the name denotes, is a Life of Christ, a re-interpretation of His 
 life as seen by a very simple yet very subtle, very human yet very 
 wise idealist and Christian. No writer on social tendencies after the 
 war has failed to point out the great loss of prestige suffered by the 
 Churches. Speaking broadly, they are regarded with a disinterested 
 tolerance almost amounting to contempt by the great majority of 
 people, and this attitude has as its general effect a marked decrease 
 in 'belief in Christianity. Dr Irvine's book may prove a very real 
 antidote to that progressive agnosticism, for he still believes that the 
 Life of Christ is the greatest example mankind has ever been given, 
 and that the influence of His message is vastly greater than that of 
 any other single influence in history. But to show that he has to draw 
 a new picture of Christ emphasising His Humanity as well as His 
 Divinity, and make His teaching intelligible to a Society still hardly 
 approaching convalescence after a prolonged and virulent disease. 
 It is an original, beautiful, and timely book. 
 
 A London Mosaic w. L. GEORGE 
 
 Small Crown 4to, Cloth, i5/- net. 
 Illustrations by P. Forbes-Robertson 
 
 A series of brilliant satirical sketches of London places and London 
 people by one of the most popular novelists of the day. Mr George 
 is always interesting and his point of view original and challenging. 
 He knows London intimately and loves her well, but his affection 
 does not blunt his critical sense. 
 
 To go with him to the Cafe Royal and listen as he points out and 
 discusses the great ones sitting therein; to follow him on his pilgrimage 
 'In Search of Vice"; to accompany him to theatre or music hall, are 
 most amusing and instructive experiences which no lover of London 
 should miss. Mr Philippe Forbes-Robertson's illustrations perfectly 
 interpret the mood of the book.
 
 South with Scott CAPT. E. R. G. R. EVANS 
 
 C.B., D.S.O., R.N. 
 Demy 8vo, Cloth, 10/6 net 
 With photogravure portrait of Captain Evans 
 
 Captain Evans was second in command of the British Antarctic 
 expedition commanded by Captain Scott, and took over Captain 
 Scott's position as leader after his death. It will be remembered that, 
 during the war, Captain Evans was in command of H.M.S. Broke, 
 which, together with H.M.S. Swift, engaged six German destroyers, 
 sinking two and torpedoing a third. It is an interesting, intimate, 
 racy, and absorbing account of the expedition compressed into a 
 comparatively small compass, and fully brings out the intense diffi- 
 culties the expedition had to face, the heroism displayed by every 
 member of the party, and the magnificent scientific results obtained. 
 
 Labour : The Giant with the Feet of Clay 
 
 SHAW DESMOND 
 
 Demy 8vo, Cloth, 10/6 net 
 
 Mr Shaw Desmond is very well known as a versatile writer and 
 as a great champion of the Labour Cause. His book, therefore, is of 
 singular interest at the present time. It is a critical and sympathetic 
 analysis of the Labour Movement from the inside, by a man who, 
 after being a member of the Labour Party for fourteen years, is frankly 
 disillusioned. In what amounts to a sweeping but reasoned indict- 
 ment, the writer shows the 'feet of clay* of the Labour Movement, 
 and claims that though outwardly united the movement is split from 
 crown to heel by fundamentally opposed ideals, tactics, and objectives, 
 that it might collapse at any moment, and that such ' success ' as has 
 been obtained has been purchased at the price of principle. In so 
 doing he gives many vivid and revealing portraits of great Labour 
 figures of the last generation, from Keir Hardie to Rosa Luxemburg, 
 'the Red Tigress.' The book is not merely destructive, the latter 
 portion is given over to a constructive examination of the problems 
 facing democracy with a very interesting foreshadowing of what the 
 writer calls 'The New Democracy' or 'The Spiritual Democracy.' 
 He shows not only how Labour may set its house in order but how 
 the House of Society itself may be saved from that 'unrest' which is 
 slowly destroying it. Mr Desmond's writing is at once stimulating 
 and suggestive, instructive and illuminating, and will certainly be 
 widely discussed.
 
 The Island of Youth EDWARD SHANKS 
 
 Author of The Queen of China, The People of the Ruins, etc. 
 Small Crown 8vo, Cloth, 5/- net 
 
 The Island of Youth is the fourth volume of verse by a poet whose 
 powers have been steadily maturing. Two years ago Mr Shanks's 
 The Queen of China won the Hawthornden Prize, and the present 
 volume contains all the poems he has since written. It contains one 
 long poem, a beautiful idyll in blank verse, and a number of short 
 poems. Mr Shanks's language is refreshingly pure and his rhythm 
 refreshingly musical, in an age which has made many attempts to 
 glorify gibberish and raucous discord. He is, as all good poets mast 
 be, at once original and in the stream of national tradition, and in 
 no respect more traditional than in his affection for and knowledge of 
 the English landscape which has breathed its fragrance into so much 
 of our great poetry in all ages. Those who know his previous books, 
 or the selections from them in Georgian Poetry, do not need to be told 
 this, and those unacquainted with Mr Shanks's previous work can be 
 most emphatically assured that they will not be disappointed in The 
 Island of Youth. It is one of those books familiarity with which breeds 
 an ever deepening admiration and love. 
 
 Ibsen and His Creation JANKO LAVRIN 
 
 Crown 8vo, Cloth, 7/6 net 
 
 This is a further contribution to 'psycho-criticism' by Mr Janko 
 Lavrin, whose able study of Dostoevsky was so favourably received. 
 His aim is to present a new and original solution of the central problem 
 of Ibsen, and to show how Ibsen's individual psychological conflict 
 is worked out in his plays. 
 
 Mr Lavrin reveals in a new light the great significance of Ibsen 
 as a representative of modern consciousness, and in so doing illuminates 
 not only Ibsen's dilemma but also our own. 

 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 Form L9-20m-7,'61(C1437s4)444
 
 S R L F 
 SEE SPINE FOR BARCODE NUMBER 
 
 PR 
 
 6013 
 G372o