randfer
Cantle severely. "You might have been the son of a man that's never
been outside Blooms-End in his life for all the wit you have. Really
all the soldiering and smartness in the world in the father seems to
count for nothing in forming the nater of the son. As far as that
chiel Christian is concerned I might as well have stayed at home and
seed nothing, like all the rest of ye here. Though, as far as myself
is concerned, a dashing spirit has counted for sommat, to be sure!"

"Don't ye let me down so, father; I feel no bigger than a ninepin
after it. I've made but a bruckle hit, I'm afeard."

"Come, come. Never pitch yerself in such a low key as that,
Christian; you should try more," said Fairway.

"Yes, you should try more," echoed the Grandfer with insistence, as if
he had been the first to make the suggestion. "In common conscience
every man ought either to marry or go for a soldier. 'Tis a scandal
to the nation to do neither one nor t'other. I did both, thank God!
Neither to raise men nor to lay 'em low--that shows a poor do-nothing
spirit indeed."

"I never had the nerve to stand fire," faltered Christian. "But as to
marrying, I own I've asked here and there, though without much fruit
from it. Yes, there's some house or other that might have had a
man for a master--such as he is--that's now ruled by a woman alone.
Still it might have been awkward if I had found her; for, d'ye see,
neighbours, there'd have been nobody left at home to keep down
father's spirits to the decent pitch that becomes a old man."

"And you've your work cut out to do that, my son," said Grandfer
Cantle smartly. "I wish that the dread of infirmities was not so
strong in me!--I'd start the very first thing tomorrow to see the
world over again! But seventy-one, though nothing at home, is a high
figure for a rover... Ay, seventy-one, last Candlemasday. Gad, I'd
sooner have it in guineas than in years!" And the old man sighed.

"Don't you be mournful, Grandfer," said Fairway. "Empt some more
feathers into the bed-tick, and keep up yer heart. Though rather
lean in the stalks you be a green-leaved old man still. There's time
enough left to ye yet to fill whole chronicles."

"Begad, I'll go to 'em, Timothy--to the married pair!" said Granfer
Cantle in an encouraged voice, and starting round briskly. "I'll go
to 'em tonight and sing a wedding song, hey? 'Tis like me to do so,
you know; and they'd see it as such. My 'Down in Cupid's Garde