Land that had gone sour might be recovered by draining, and a bank could be built where the river now and then washed away the crops.
Osborn, however, was poor and extravagant, and his agent's talents were rather applied to raising rents than improving the soil.
Kit stopped when he got near Allerby, where the dale widens and a cluster of low white houses stands among old trees.

The village glimmered in the moonlight and beyond it rolling country, dotted by dark woods, ran back to the sea.

A beck plunged down the hillside with a muffled roar, and a building, half in light and half in shadow, occupied the hollow of the ghyll.

Kit, leaning on the bridge, watched the glistening thread of water that trickled over the new iron wheel, and noted the raw slate slabs that had been recently built into the mossy wall.

A big traction engine, neatly covered by a tarpaulin, and a trailer lurry stood in front of the sliding door.
Osborn had spent some money here, for Allerby mill, with its seed and chemical manure stores, paid him a higher rent than the best of his small farms.