The Humourous Story of Farmer Bumpkin's Lawsuit Part 50

"Why not?"

Mrs. b.u.mpkin looked into her lap, and folding her ap.r.o.n very smooth with both hands, answered:

"I doan't think, Tom, that man looks like bringing anything back. He be very chuffy and masterful, and looks all round as he goo away, as though he wur lookin' to see what ur would take next. I think he'll have un all, Tom."

"Stuff!" said Mr. b.u.mpkin, "he be sellin' for I, take what ur may."

"He be sellin' THEE, Tom, I think, and I'd stop un from takin' more."

They rose to go to bed, and as Mrs. b.u.mpkin looked at the cosy old hearth, and put up the embers of the log to make it safe for the night, it seemed as if the prosperity of their old home had burnt down at last to dull ashes, and she looked sadly at the vacant place where Joe had used to sit.

CHAPTER x.x.xII.

Joe's return to Southwood-an invitation from the Vicar-what the old oak saw.

It was a long time after the circ.u.mstances mentioned in the last chapter.

The jails had been "delivered" of their prisoners, and prodigious events had taken place in the world; great battles had been fought and won, great laws made for the future interpretation of judges, and for the vexation of unfortunate suitors. It seemed an age to Mr. b.u.mpkin since his case commenced; and Joe had been in foreign parts and won his share of the glory and renown that falls to the lot of privates who have helped to achieve victory for the honour and glory of their General and the happiness of their country. It was a very long time, measured by events, since Mr. b.u.mpkin's return from town, when on a bright morning towards the end of June, a fine sunburnt soldier of Her Majesty's regiment of the --- Hussars knocked with the b.u.t.t-end of his riding whip at the old oak door in the old porch of Southwood farm-house.

"Well, I never! if that there bean't our Joe!" exclaimed Mrs. b.u.mpkin, looking out of the window; and throwing down the rolling-pin which she had just been using in rolling-out the dough for a dumpling-(Mr. b.u.mpkin was "uncommon fond o' dumplins")-"well, I never!" repeated Mrs. b.u.mpkin, as she opened the door; "who ever would ha' thought it? Why, how be'est thee, Joe? And bless the lad, 'ow thee've growed! My 'art alive, come along! The master'll be mighty glad to see thee, and so be I, sure a ly."

And here Mrs. b.u.mpkin paused to look round him, sticking her knuckles in her sides and her elbows in the air as though Joe were a piece of handiwork-a dumpling, say-which she herself had turned out, clothes and all. And then she put the corner of her ap.r.o.n to her eye.

"Why, Joe, I thought," said she, "I should never see thee agin! Dear, dear, this 'ere lawsuit be the ruin on us, mark my words! But lor, don't say as I said so to the master for the world, for he be that wropped up in un that nothing goes down night and morning, morning and night, but affidavys, and summonses, and counsellors, and jussices, and what not."

"Well," said the soldier, slapping his whip on his leg as was his custom, "you might be sure I should come and see yer if they left me a leg to hop with, and I should 'a wrote, but what wi' the smoke and what with the cannon b.a.l.l.s flying about, you haven't got much time to think about anything; but I did think this, that if ever I got back to Old England, if it was twenty year to come, I'd go and see the old master and missus and 'ear 'ow that lawsuit wur going on."

"And that be right, Joe-I knowed 'ee would; I said as much to master.

But 'ow do thee think it'll end? shall us win or lose?"

Now this was the first time he had ever been called upon to give a legal opinion, or rather, an opinion upon a legal matter, so he was naturally somewhat put about; and looking at the rolling-pin and the dough and then at Mrs. b.u.mpkin, said:

"Well, it's like this: a man med win or a man med lose, there's no telling about the case; but I be dang'd well sure o' this, missus, he'll lose his money: I wish master had chucked her up long agoo."

This opinion was not encouraging; and perceiving that the subject troubled Mrs. b.u.mpkin more than she liked to confess, he asked a question which was of more immediate importance to himself, and that was in reference to Polly Sweetlove.

"Why, thee'll make her look at thee now, I'll warrant; thy clothes fit thee as though they growed on thee."

"Do she walk with the baker?" inquired Joe, with trembling accents.

"I never heeard so, an' it's my belief she never looked at un wi' any meaning. I've seen her many a time comin' down the Green Lane by herself and peepin' over th' gate."

"Now look at that!" said Joe; "and when I was here I couldn't get Polly to come near the farm-allays some excuse-did you ever speak to her about me, missus?"

"I ain't going to tell tales out of school, Joe, so there."

"Now look at that," said Joe; "here's a chap comes all this way and you won't tell him anything."

Mrs. b.u.mpkin laughed, and went on rolling the dough, and told him what a nice dumpling she was making, and how he would like it, and asked how long he was going to stop, and hoped it would be a month, and was telling him all about the sheep and the cows and the good behaviour of the bull, when suddenly she said:

"Here he be, Joe! lor, lor, how glad he'll be to see thee!"

But it wasn't the Bull that stepped into the room; it was Mr. b.u.mpkin, rosy, stalwart, jolly, and artful as ever. Now Mrs. b.u.mpkin was very anxious to be the bearer of such good intelligence as Joe's arrival, so, notwithstanding the fact that Mr. b.u.mpkin and he were face to face, the eager woman exclaimed:

"Here be our Joe, Tom, hearty and well. And bean't he a smart fine feller? What'll Polly think of un now?"

"Shut up thic chatter," said Mr. b.u.mpkin, laughing. "Halloa! why, Joe, egad thee looks like a gineral. I'd take thee for a kernel at the wery least. Why, when did thee come, lad?"

"Just now, master."

"That be right, an' I be glad to see thee. I'll warrant Nancy ain't axed thee t' have nothun."

"Why, thee be welcome to the 'ouse if thee can eat un, thee knows thic,"

answered Nancy; "but dinner'll be ready at twelve, and thee best not spoil un."

"A quart o' ale wun't spile un, will un, Joe?"

"Now look at that," said the soldier. "Thankee, master, but not a quart."

"Well, thee hasn't got thee head snicked off yet, Joe?"

"No, master, if my head had been snicked off I couldn't ha' bin here."

And he laughed a loud ha! ha! ha!

And Mr. b.u.mpkin laughed a loud haw! haw! haw! at this tremendous witticism. It was not much of a witticism, perhaps, after all, when duly considered, but it answered the purpose as well as the very best, and produced as much pleasure as the most brilliant _repartee_, in the most fashionable circles. We must take people as they are.

So Joe stayed chattering away till dinner-time, and then, referring to the pudding, said he had never tasted anything like it in his life; and went on telling the old people all the wonders of the campaign: how their regiment just mowed down the enemy as he used to cut corn in the harvest-field, and how nothing could stand aginst a charge of cavalry; and how they liked their officers; and how their General, who warn't above up to Joe's shoulder, were a genleman, every inch on him, an' as brave as any lion you could pick out. And so he went on, until Mr.

b.u.mpkin said:

"An' if I had my time over agin I'd goo for a soger too, Joe," which made Mrs. b.u.mpkin laugh and ask what would become of her.

"Ha! ha! ha! look at that!" said Joe; "she's got you there, master."

"No she bean't, she'd a married thic feller that wur so sweet on her afore I had ur."

"What, Jem?" said Mrs. b.u.mpkin, "why I wouldn't ha' had un, Tom, if every 'air had been hung wi' dimonds."

"Now look at that," laughed Joe.

And so they went on until it was time to take a turn round the farm.

Everything seemed startled at Joe's fine clothes, especially the bull, who snorted and pawed the earth and put out his tail, and placed his head to the ground, until Joe called him by name, and then, as he told his comrades afterwards in barracks, the bull said:

"Why danged if it bean't our Joe!"

I must confess I did not hear this observation in my dream, but I was some distance off, and if Mr. Ricochet, Q.C., in cross-examination had said, "Will you swear, sir, upon your oath that the bull did not use those words?" I must have been bound to answer, "I will not."