“His name is Jonas Boocock. He comes from Shipley. His motive is to mak’ money. He thinks this is the varry place to do it. He talked constantly about its fine water power, and its cheap land, and thought Providence hed fairly laid it out for factories and power-looms; for he said there’s talk of a branch of railway from Bradley’s place, past Annis, to join the main track going to Leeds. He considered it a varry grand idea. Mebbe it is, sir.”
“My father would not like the plan at all. It must be prevented, if possible. What do you think, Jonathan?”
“I think, sir, if it would be a grand thing for Jonas Boocock, it might happen be a good thing for Squire Antony Annis. The world is moving for-rard, sir, and we must step with it, or be dragged behind it. Old as I am, I would rayther step for-rard with it. Gentlemen, I must now go to my mother.”
“Is she worse, Jonathan?”
“She is quite worn out, worn out to the varry marrow. I would be thankful, sir, if tha would call and bid her good-by.”
“I will. I will come about seven o’clock.”
“That will be right. I’ll hev all the household present, sir.”
Then they turned away from Jonathan’s house and went to look at the land Boocock hankered for. The land itself was a spur descending from the wold, and was heathery and not fit for cultivation; but it was splendidly watered and lay along the river bank. “Boocock was right,” said Mr. Foster. “It is a bit of land just about perfect for a factory site. Does the squire own it, sir?”
“I cannot say. I was trying to fix its position as well as I could, and I will write to my father tonight. I am sorry Jonathan did not know more about the man Boocock and his plans.”
“Jonathan’s mother is a very old woman. While she lives, he will stay at her side. You must remember her?”