Joe’s return to Southwood—an invitation from the Vicar—what the old oak saw.
It was a long time after the circumstances mentioned in the last chapter. The jails had been “delivered” of their prisoners, and prodigious events had taken place in the world; great battles had been fought and won, great laws made for the future interpretation of judges, and for the vexation of unfortunate suitors. It seemed an age to Mr. Bumpkin since his case commenced; and Joe had been in foreign parts and won his share of the glory and renown that falls to the lot of privates who have helped to achieve victory for the honour and glory of their General and the happiness of their country. It was a very long time, measured by events, since Mr. Bumpkin’s return from town, when on a bright morning towards the end of June, a fine sunburnt soldier of Her Majesty’s regiment of the --- Hussars knocked with the butt-end of his riding whip at the old oak door in the old porch of Southwood farm-house.
“Well, I never! if that there bean’t our Joe!” exclaimed Mrs. Bumpkin, looking out of the window; and throwing down the rolling-pin which she had just been using in rolling-out the dough for a dumpling—(Mr. Bumpkin was “uncommon fond o’ dumplins”)—“well, I never!” repeated Mrs. Bumpkin, as she opened
the door; “who ever would ha’ thought it? Why, how be’est thee, Joe? And bless the lad, ’ow thee’ve growed! My ’art alive, come along! The master’ll be mighty glad to see thee, and so be I, sure a ly.”
And here Mrs. Bumpkin paused to look round him, sticking her knuckles in her sides and her elbows in the air as though Joe were a piece of handiwork—a dumpling, say—which she herself had turned out, clothes and all. And then she put the corner of her apron to her eye.
“Why, Joe, I thought,” said she, “I should never see thee agin! Dear, dear, this ’ere lawsuit be the ruin on us, mark my words! But lor, don’t say as I said so to the master for the world, for he be that wropped up in un that nothing goes down night and morning, morning and night, but affidavys, and summonses, and counsellors, and jussices, and what not.”
“Well,” said the soldier, slapping his whip on his leg as was his custom, “you might be sure I should come and see yer if they left me a leg to hop with, and I should ’a wrote, but what wi’ the smoke and what with the cannon balls flying about, you haven’t got much time to think about anything; but I did think this, that if ever I got back to Old England, if it was twenty year to come, I’d go and see the old master and missus and ’ear ’ow that lawsuit wur going on.”
“And that be right, Joe—I knowed ’ee would; I said as much to master. But ’ow do thee think it’ll end? shall us win or lose?”
Now this was the first time he had ever been called upon to give a legal opinion, or rather, an opinion upon a legal matter, so he was naturally somewhat put about;
and looking at the rolling-pin and the dough and then at Mrs. Bumpkin, said: