The farmer did full justice to the sweet picking off the chine, and then lingered over an old cheese.

Very few words were spoken.
Then, after his dinner, he sat in his arm-chair--the same that he had used for many years--and took a book.

For Harry rather enjoyed a book, provided it was not too new.

He read works of science, thirty years old, solid and correct, but somewhat behind the age; he read histories, such as were current in the early part of the present century, but none of a later date than the end of the wars of the First Napoleon.

The only thing modern he cared for in literature was a 'society' journal, sent weekly from London.
These publications are widely read in the better class of farmsteads now.
Harry knew something of most things, even of geology.