The moment was not propitious, but Harry had to consider the weather, which showed possibilities that must be made use of at once. Mus’ Beatup listened wearily to his suggestions.
“Oh, it’s more wheat as they want, is it? They’re going to take that next.... Reclaim the oald tillage? Wot did we let it go fallow fur, if it wurn’t cos it dudn’t pay the labour?... Break up the grass-land? You’ll be asking to plough the kitchen floor next.”
“If we doan’t do summat, I reckon we’ll be maade to.”
“Reckon we will—saum as we wur maade to give up Tom. And they say this country’s fighting Prussian tyranny.”
“Well, faather, if we doan’t grow more corn we’ll lose the war. I wur reading in the paapers as all our corn and wheat used to come from furrin parts, but now, wud ships wanted to carry soldiers and them hemmed U-boats spannelling around....”
“You talk lik the Sussex News. Wot d’you want to go vrothering about them things fur? You do your work and doan’t go roving.”
“Faather, I aun’t bin roving all this winter.”
“No, you aun’t—that’s a good lad, fur sartain sure.”
“And if you let me do this job, I promise I’ll stick to it and pull it through.”