Olivia’s bright face clouded.
“But papa’s got a farm bailiff,” said she.
“Oh ay, and gotten a rat to eat oop his coorn,” assented Mat darkly.
“Do you mean to insinuate,” began Olivia with a tragic face, “that Tom Herrick——”
“All Ah mean, Miss, is that Ah’d like to see ye mak’ a profit on your hens; for that’s what Ah call success, and Ah’d loike ye to be successful, that Ah should.”
“Thank you, Mat; it’s very kind of you. And you’re quite right; of course it’s only by making every department pay that one can make the farm pay.”
“Ay,” said Mat. “And if ye’ll but follow out what I say, ye’ll be able to keep twice them lot o’ hens on what ye’re givin’ ’em. Ye’ve got ground for fifty more, and if Ah was you Ah’d go over to Long Sedge Bend and buy some of old Widder Lund’s; she’s got ’em to sell. And doan’t ye go giving her no fancy price, but beat her down; that’s business, and she’s none so poor but she can afford to let ye have ’em cheap. The bean’t so much to look at, her hens; but they’re good ’uns to lay, and worth a fieldful o’ them fancy soarts.”
Olivia began to play thoughtfully with the grain left in her basket. She was very anxious for the honor of her poultry yard, and she began already to be fired with the ambition to make it a successful commercial enterprise. She had a little pocket money put by; she could lay that out as she pleased, without consulting anybody.
“How far off is this Long Sedge Bend?”
“A matter o’ twea mile and a half. It’s down by Sedge Bend coal-pit.”