Farmer Bluff's dog Blazer

by Florence E. Burch

Bill expressed considerable contempt for the idea of "getting leave;" however, he went so far as to say that when the sport was all arranged, he might see fit to make it known to Dick. "It's the Squire's grandsons, you see," said he importantly. "'Tisn't every one as I could introduce to them."

Dick rather wondered what it mattered whom Bill introduced, so long as it was somebody no lower than himself. But he promised to be in the way as often as he could; and Bill the Kicker, having duly warned him not to drop a word to any one, went off to find the Squire's grandsons and "sell the nest."

[CHAPTER III.]

FARMER BLUFF.

WHILST Dick was making acquaintance with Bill the Kicker, the Squire's bailiff, Farmer Bluff, was sitting in his parlour, with his leg upon a cushion and a pint mug on the table by his side, swearing inwardly—if not aloud—at the fate which had cursed him with the gout.

Now this fate was none other than the blustering old farmer's own stupidity; for time after time the doctor had warned him that as long as he made that mug his boon companion, so long exactly would his enemy pursue him with its twinging pains.

But Farmer Bluff was obstinate as well as blustering—to every one except the Squire, of course, in whose presence he was like the latter end of March—a lion transformed into a lamb. The excuse he made to himself turned upon the mug, of which he was naturally proud, it being solid silver, an heirloom that his grandfather had left to him. He liked to have it on the table by his side; and if upon the table, why, it must have something in it. And that something must of course be beer, and must be drunk. And so the stupid fellow's gout grew angrier year by year, until at length it got so bad that if he did not swear aloud, it was for no better reason than because nobody was by to hear.

As he sat there by the hearth, looking across his shoulder out of the window at the bright March sunshine that used to call him up and abroad at six o'clock, until this gout got hold of him, he heard Grip set up the furious bark that fetched the servant out to look. Then he heard Blazer take up the challenge; and shortly afterwards the voices of the servant and the man fell on his ear.

Now it was a peculiarity of the old bailiff to resent not being able to hear what passed between other people; so after chafing and fretting for some minutes, he reached out for the handbell that stood beside the silver mug, and rang it lustily. Then he took another pull at the mug, and having poked the fire to a roaring blaze, impatiently awaited the answer to his summons.