ct that he'd enough to do as it
was, but Katie, one ear pressed against a cow, one pricked for the
conversation, chimed in.

"There's a Jersey bull to the geart farm to Grey Caunce, maister," she
told Ishmael, "and I've heard tell there's nothen but Jerseys there, and
the butter's the best in the country and fetches most to market. Many's
the time I've said I could make as good if I'd only got cream hangin' in
riches like them has got."

"You must come up the Fair with me next time, John-James," suggested
Ishmael, "and then we'll see. Come and show me the calves now...."

The two went off to the cowsheds and for the next hour were examining
livestock, from the calves down to the bees--rather a rarity in those
parts and the joy of John-James, who had the bee-gift, and was never
stung, being able to move a swarm in his bare hands unscathed.
Afterwards they walked over part of the farmlands, and Ishmael's heart
began to beat high with pride and joy. There is nothing more romantic
than land--its wilfulness, its possibilities, its endless intimacies.
Ishmael's land was to prove an exacting mistress, unlike the rich, sleek
home counties, which only have to be stroked to smile and yield. On
these granite heights the soil needed breaking every three years; if a
field did very well it might be left four, but never longer. The deep
ploughing of the midlands was impossible--the hard subsoil lay too close
to the surface, and little wheat was sown as the shallow soil would not
bear it, and what was sown never grew to be like the heavy eight-sided
corn of softer counties. Yet Ishmael loved his land already and was to
love it more and more, its very hardness and fighting of him helping to
make its charm.

Neither his early experiences of farm life nor his opportunities of more
scientific study had been wasted on Ishmael, and he looked over pasture
and arable now with an eye knowing enough, if not quite as much so as he
tried to make it appear to John-James. He found the land in good
condition, the early-sown grain showing clear green blades and the grass
rich enough, while even in the more neglected pastures towards the sea
where the thistles had not been refused a foothold they had been kept
cut down to prevent seeding. John-James was conscientious, though
handicapped by a rigid conservatism and lack of proper help. For the
emigration had been very heavy of late years from that part of the
world, to the goldfields both of Austral