“I was thinking as you ought to hev been a bricklayer or carpenter, sir, instead of a scollard, and going up to rectory. Measuring for that there noo-fangle notion of yours?”
“Yes, I am,” cried Vane; “and what then?”
“Oh, nowt, sir, nowt, only it wean’t do. Only throwing away money.”
“How do you know, Bruff?”
“How do I know, sir? Why, arn’t I been a gardener ever since I was born amost, seeing as my father and granfa’ was gardeners afore me. You tak’ my advice, sir, as one as knows. There’s only two ways o’ heating places, and one’s
wi’ a proper fireplace an’ a flue, and t’other’s varmentin wi’ hot manner.”
“Varmentin with hot manner, as you call it. Why, don’t they heat the vineries at Tremby Court with hot-water?”
“I’ve heered you say so, sir, but I niver see it. Tak’ my advice, sir, and don’t you meddle with things as you don’t understand. Remember them taters?”
“Oh, yes, I remember the potatoes, Bruff; and I daresay, if the truth was known, you cut all the eyes out, instead of leaving the strongest, as I told you.”