icularly if they are too
honest, and this one is a stern man with a repulsive manner. Who knows
whether his advice to Acton may not have been wise and kind, and would
not have conduced to a general rise of wages? Who can prove, nay,
venture to insinuate, any such systematic roguery against a man hitherto
so strict, so punctual, so sanctimonious? Even in the case of Sir John's
golden gift, Jennings may be right after all; it is quite possible that
Roger was mistaken, and had gilt a piece of silver with his longings;
and the upright man might well take umbrage at so vile an imputation as
that hot and silly speech; it was foolish, very foolish, to have quoted
text against him, and no wonder that the labourer got dismissed for it.
Then again to return to wages--who knows? it might be, all things
considered, the only way of managing a rise; the bailiff must know his
master's mind best, and Acton had been wise to have done as he bade him;
perhaps it really was well-meant, and might have got him twelve
shillings a-week, instead of eight as hitherto; perhaps Simon was a
shrewd man, and arranged it cleverly; perhaps Roger was an honest man,
and couldn't but think others so.
Any how, though, all was lost now, and he blamed his own rash tongue,
poor fellow, for what he could not help fearing was the ruin of himself
and all he loved. With a melancholy heart, he shouldered his spade, and
slowly plodded homewards. How long should he have a home? How was he to
get bread, to get work, if the bailiff was his enemy? How could he face
his wife, and tell her all the foolish past and dreadful future? How
could he bear to look on Grace, too beautiful Grace, and torture his
heart by fancying her fate? Thomas, too, his own brave boy, whom utter
poverty might drive to desperation? And the poor babes, his little
playful pets, what on earth would become of them? There was the Union
workhouse to be sure, but Acton shuddered at the thought; to be
separated from every thing he loved, to give up his little all, and be
made both a prisoner and a slave, all for the sake of what?--daily
water-gruel, and a pauper's branded livery. Or they might perchance go
beyond the seas, if some Prince Edward's Company would help him and his
to emigrate; ay, thought he, and run new risks, encounter fresh dangers,
lose every thing, get nothing, and all the trouble taken merely to
starve three thousand miles from home. No, no; at his time of life, he
could not be leavi
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