civilisation and
education are ruining the present generation."

"That's where you're right, uncle," interposed his nephew.

Mr. Rougeant went on: "Farmers' sons do not want to work now. Every
one rails at manual labour. If this state of things goes on, the
island will soon be a mass of ruined and dissipated human beings.
The honourable people who have a pedigree they can boast of, are
mixing with foreigners, whom no one knows whence they have sprung
from. If you drink a glass of cider now a days, you are termed a
drunkard by a lot of tea-drinkers, teetotalers and----."

"A glass of cider would do good, one is thirsty this weather,"
interrupted Tom, who, although half asleep, had caught the word
cider.

Without even casting a glance at his nephew, so absorbed was he, the
farmer continued: "One hears nothing but bicycle-bells. These
bicycles are the greatest nuisance yet invented. I am surprised that
people rack their brains in order to invent such worthless rubbish.
Every one must have a bicycle. There may not be any bread in the
house, the children may not be able to go to school or the wife to
church for want of a decent pair of boots, but, 'I will have a
bicycle.' And then, it is so very easy to have one, there's the hire
system. Another curse of civilisation that is ruining the poor man.
If our peasantry knew how to put by for a rainy day, like the French
country-folk do, we should not have so many applications for relief,
our hospitals would well nigh be empty."

"_Vere dia_, uncle."

"Poor people now are not half so polite as they used to be when I
was young. They call each other Mess. instead of Mait., and they
style their superiors Mait. when they ought to say Mess.

"The insolent rogues, they only have a smooth tongue when they come
to beg. People may say what they like, foolish men may talk about
the State establishing scholarships, for the talented poor; let them
work. I have worked all my life, and hard too, and here I am, better
than any of them."

"Educate them with the States' revenue. Indeed! Bring them up like
gentlemen, for them to laugh at you later on, to look down upon you
as if you were so much stubble."

"That's what they like. Give young people a few pence to rattle in
their trousers' pockets, a collar, cuffs, a sixpenny signet ring on
the little finger, a nickel-silver mounted cane and a pair of
gloves, and there they go, not caring a fillip whether their parents
have toiled and st