Tardrew, the steward, indeed, said
openly, that Mr. Thurnall was making disturbance enough in people's
property up at Pentremochyn, without bothering himself with Aberalva
too. He had no opinion of people who had a finger in everybody's pie.
Whom Tom tried to soothe with honeyed words, knowing him to be of the
original British bulldog breed, which, once stroked against the hair,
shows his teeth at you for ever afterwards.
But staunch was Tardrew, unfortunately on the wrong side; and backed
by the collective ignorance, pride, laziness, and superstition
of Aberalva, showed to his new assailant that terrible front of
stupidity, against which, says Schiller, "the gods themselves fight in
vain."
"Does he think we was all fools afore he came here?"
That was the rallying cry of the Conservative party, worshippers of
Baalzebub, god of flies, and of that (so say Syrian scholars) from
which flies are bred. And, indeed, there were excuses for them, on the
Yankee ground, that "there's a deal of human natur' in man." It is
hard to human nature to make all the humiliating confessions which
must precede sanitary repentance; to say, "I have been a very nasty,
dirty fellow. I have lived contented in evil smells, till I care for
them no more than my pig does. I have refused to understand Nature's
broadest hints, that anything which is so disagreeable is not meant to
be left about. I have probably been more or less the cause of half my
own illnesses, and of three-fourths of the illness of my children; for
aught I know, it is very much my fault that my own baby has died of
scarlatina, and two or three of my tenants of typhus.
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