“Wot can I do?”
“You can work instead of roaming, and you can see to things when faather’s bad—see as there aun’t naun foolish done or jobs disremembered. Elphick and Juglery have only half a head between them. Before I go I’ll tell you all I’ve had in my head about the hay in Bucksteep field, and the oats agaunst the Street and them fuggles down by the Sunk. And you’ll have to kip it all in your head saum as I’ve kipped it in mine, and see as things come out straight by harvest. D’you understand?”
“Yes, Tom.”
“And there’s Maudie’s calf due next month, and a brood of them Orpingtons, and I’d meant to buy a boar at Lewes Fair and kip him for service. You’ll never have the sense to do it. You mun stop your ratting and your roving, or Worge ull be at the auctioneer’s. Faather’s a valiant clever chap when he’s sober, and book-larned too, but the men are two old turnup-heads, and Zacky’s scarce more’n a child, and the gals are gals—so it’s up to you, Harry, as they say, to kip the plaace going.”
Harry groaned——
“Why wudn’t they let you stay?”
“Because they didn’t see no sense in kipping an a man on farm-work when there wur plenty about to do his job. They doan’t understand how things are, and when you coame to think of it, it’s a shaum as I can’t go wud a free heart.”
“Do you want to go?”
“I dunno. I aun’t got the chance of knowing, wud all this vrothering me. But I’d go easier if I cud think the plaace wouldn’t fall to pieces as soon as I left it, and that if I’m killed....”