There came a pause, for George did not know what next to do with the farmer fellow. So the latter spoke again, being unembarrassed.
“You have a grand library, Mr. Crawford! It must be fine to sit among so many books! It's just like a wine-merchant's cellars—only here you can open and drink, and leave the bottles as full as before!”
“A good simile, Mr. Ingram!” replied George. “You must come and dine with me, and we'll open another sort of bottle!”
“You must excuse me there, sir! I have no time for that sort of bottle.”
“I understand you read a great deal?”
“Weather permitting,” returned Andrew.
“I should have thought if anything was independent of the weather, it must be reading!”
“Not a farmer's reading, sir. To him the weather is the Word of God, telling him whether to work or read.”
George was silent. To him the Word of God was the Bible!
“But you must read a great deal yourself, sir!” resumed Andrew, casting a glance round the room.