I'm sure young men never spoke so in my time; and I'm sure your father has been prospered in his farming' (she felt her silk dress), 'and has done very well without any machines, which cost a deal of money--and Heaven knows there's a vast amount going out every day.' A gruff voice interrupted her--one of the reapers had advanced along the hedge, with a large earthenware jar in his hand.
'Measter,' he shouted to the farmer in the gig, 'can't you send us out some better tackle than this yer stuff ?' He poured some ale out of the jar on the stubble with an expression of utter disgust.
'It be the same as I drink myself,' said the farmer, sharply, and immediately sat down, struck the horse, and drove off.
His son and the labourer--who could hardly have been distinguished apart so far as their dress went--stood gazing after him for a few minutes.

They then turned, and each went back to his work without a word.
The farmer drove on steadily homewards at the same jog-trot pace that had been his wont these forty years.

The house stood a considerable distance back from the road: it was a gabled building of large size, and not without interest.

It was approached by a drive that crossed a green, where some ducks were waddling about, and entered the front garden, which was surrounded by a low wall.

Within was a lawn and an ancient yew tree.