"I'll try at any rate," said the other.
"Water-drinker, moody thinker," and Peregrine sang a word or two from an old drinking-song.
"I am not quite sure of that. We Englishmen I suppose are the moodiest thinkers in all the world, and yet we are not so much given to water-drinking as our lively neighbours across the Channel."
Sir Peregrine said nothing more on the subject, but he probably thought that his young friend would not be a very comfortable neighbour. His present task, however, was by no means that of teaching him to drink, and he struck off at once upon the business he had undertaken. "So your mother tells me that you are going to devote all your energies to farming."
"Hardly that, I hope. There is the land, and I mean to see what I can do with it. It is not much, and I intend to combine some other occupation with it."
"You will find that two hundred acres of land will give you a good deal to do;—that is if you mean to make money by it."
"I certainly hope to do that,—in the long run."
"It seems to me the easiest thing in the world," said Peregrine.
"You'll find out your mistake some day; but with Lucius Mason it is very important that he should make no mistake at the commencement. For a country gentleman I know no prettier amusement than experimental farming;—but then a man must give up all idea of making his rent out of the land."
"I can't afford that," said Lucius.