I should like to show
you the short-horns there, sir!--all my Lord Ducie's and Sir Edward
Knightley's stock; bought a bull-calf of him the other day myself for
a cool hundred, old fool that I am. Never mind, spreads the breed. And
here are mills--four pair of new stones. Old Whit don't know herself
again. But I dare say they look small enough to you, sir, after your
American water-power."
"What of that? It is just as honourable in you to make the most of a
small river, as in us to make the most of a large one."
"You speak like a book, sir. By the by, if you think of taking home a
calf or two, to improve your New England breed--there are a good many
gone across the sea in the last few years--I think we could find you
three or four beauties, not so very dear, considering the blood."
"Thanks; but I really am no farmer."
"Well--no offence, I hope: but I am like your Yankees in one thing,
you see;--always have an eye to a bit of business. If I didn't, I
shouldn't be here now."
"How very tasteful!--our own American shrubs! what a pity that they
are not in flower! What is this," asked Stangrave,--"one of your
noblemen's parks?"
And they began to run through the cutting in Minchampstead Park, where
the owner has concealed the banks of the rail for nearly half a mile,
in a thicket of azaleas, rhododendrons, and clambering roses.
"All!--isn't it pretty? His lordship let us have the land for a song;
only bargained that we should keep low, not to spoil his view; and so
we did; and he's planted our cutting for us.
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