with Bolton, but the latter had
permitted himself to get angry, and angry men are generally deaf as an
adder to the voice of reason. So the neighbour, who called in the hope
of turning the new occupant of the farm from his purpose, and thus
saving trouble to both himself and Mr. Halpin, retired without
effecting what he wished to accomplish.
It would be doing injustice to the feelings of Mr. Bolton to say, that
he did not feel some emotions of regret for his precipitate action.
But, having assumed so decided a position in the matter, he could not
think of retracing a step that he had taken. Hasty and positive men are
generally weak-minded, and this weakness usually shows itself in a
pride of consistency. If they say a thing, they will persevere in doing
it, right or wrong, for fear that others may think them vacillating,
or, what they really are, weak-minded. Just such a man was Mr. Bolton.
"I've said it, and I'll do it!" That was one of his favourite
expressions. And he repeated it to himself, now, to drive off the
repentant feelings that came into his mind.
At dinner-time, when Mr. Bolton sat down to the table, he found, placed
just before him, a print of the golden butter sent to his wife on that
very morning by Mrs. Halpin. The sight annoyed and reproved him. He
felt that he had been hasty, unneighbourly, and, it might be, unjust;
for, as little gleams of reflection came breaking in one after another
upon his mind, he saw that a right of way for Mr. Halpin was
indispensable, and that if his deed gave it to him, it was a right of
which he could not deprive him without acting unjustly. Passion and
false reasonings would, it is true, quickly darken his mind again. But
they had, in turn, to give place to more correct views and feelings.
"Just try some of that butter. It is delicious!" said Mrs. Bolton, soon
after they were seated at the table.
"I don't care about butter at dinner-time," replied Mr. Bolton, coldly.
"But just try some of this. I want you to taste it," urged the wife.
"Its flavour is delightful. I must go over and see Mrs. Halpin's dairy."
To satisfy his wife, Mr. Bolton took some of the butter on his plate.
He would rather have thrown it out of the window.
"Now try it on a piece of bread," said Mrs. Bolton. "I declare! You act
as if you were afraid of the butter. What's the matter with you?"
There was no reason why Mr. Bolton should not do as his wife wished--at
least no reason that he c
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