书城公版THE RETURN OF THE NATIVE
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第132章 AFTERCOURSES(7)

"'Tis going to be a good bed, by the look o't," continued Sam, after an interval of silence."Who may it be for?""'Tis a present for the new folks that's going to set up housekeeping," said Christian, who stood helpless and overcome by the majesty of the proceedings.

"Ah, to be sure; and a valuable one, 'a b'lieve.""Beds be dear to fokes that don't keep geese, bain't they, Mister Fairway?" said Christian, as to an omniscient being.

"Yes," said the furze-dealer, standing up, giving his forehead a thorough mopping, and handing the beeswax to Humphrey, who succeeded at the rubbing forthwith.

"Not that this couple be in want of one, but 'twas well to show 'em a bit of friendliness at this great racketing vagary of their lives.I set up both my own daughters in one when they was married, and there have been feathers enough for another in the house the last twelve months.

Now then, neighbours, I think we have laid on enough wax.

Grandfer Cantle, you turn the tick the right way outwards, and then I'll begin to shake in the feathers."When the bed was in proper trim Fairway and Christian brought forward vast paper bags, stuffed to the full, but light as balloons, and began to turn the contents of each into the receptacle just prepared.As bag after bag was emptied, airy tufts of down and feathers floated about the room in increasing quantity till, through a mishap of Christian's, who shook the contents of one bag outside the tick, the atmosphere of the room became dense with gigantic flakes, which descended upon the workers like a windless snowstorm.

"I never saw such a clumsy chap as you, Christian,"said Grandfer 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 chief 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 Gardens'

was well liked in four; still, I've got others as good, and even better.What do you say to my She cal'-led to' her love'

From the lat'-tice a-bove, 'O come in' from the fog-gy fog'-gy dew'.'

'Twould please 'em well at such a time! Really, now I come to think of it, I haven't turned my tongue in my head to the shape of a real good song since Old Midsummer night, when we had the 'Barley Mow' at the Woman;and 'tis a pity to neglect your strong point where there's few that have the compass for such things!""So 'tis, so 'tis," said Fairway."Now gie the bed a shake down.We've put in seventy pounds of best feathers, and I think that's as many as the tick will fairly hold.

A bit and a drap wouldn't be amiss now, I reckon.

Christian, maul down the victuals from corner-cupboard if canst reach, man, and I'll draw a drap o' sommat to wet it with."They sat down to a lunch in the midst of their work, feathers around, above, and below them; the original owners of which occasionally came to the open door and cackled begrudgingly at sight of such a quantity of their old clothes.

"Upon my soul I shall be chokt," said Fairway when, having extracted a feather from his mouth, he found several others floating on the mug as it was handed round.

"I've swallered several; and one had a tolerable quill,"said Sam placidly from the corner.

"Hullo--what's that--wheels I hear coming?" Grandfer Cantle exclaimed, jumping up and hastening to the door."Why, 'tis they back again--I didn't expect 'em yet this half-hour.

To be sure, how quick marrying can be done when you are in the mind for't!""O yes, it can soon be DONE," said Fairway, as if something should be added to make the statement complete.