ster's foot to a quarter of an inch, and was
quite aware that the Wharton haymakers were not to be overtasked.
"Powell doesn't keep any cats about the place, but what catch mice.
But I am not quite sure that haymaking does pay."

"How do the tenants manage?"

"Of course they look to things closer. You wouldn't wish me to let
the land up to the house door."

"I think," said old Mrs. Fletcher, "that a landlord should consent
to lose a little by his own farming. It does good in the long run."
Both Mr. Wharton and Sir Alured felt that this might be very well at
Longbarns, though it could hardly be afforded at Wharton.

"I don't think I lose much by my farming," said the squire of
Longbarns. "I have about four hundred acres on hand, and I keep my
accounts pretty regularly."

"Johnson is a very good man, I dare say," said the baronet.

"Like most of the others," continued the squire, "he's very well
as long as he's looked after. I think I know as much about it as
Johnson. Of course, I don't expect a farmer's profit; but I do expect
my rent, and I get it."

"I don't think I manage it quite that way," said the baronet in a
melancholy tone.

"I'm afraid not," said the barrister.

"John is as hard upon the men as any one of the tenants," said John's
wife, Mrs. Fletcher of Longbarns.

"I'm not hard at all," said John, "and you understand nothing about
it. I'm paying three shillings a week more to every man, and eighteen
pence a week more to every woman, than I did three years ago."

"That's because of the Unions," said the barrister.

"I don't care a straw for the Unions. If the Unions interfered with
my comfort I'd let the land and leave the place."

"Oh, John!" ejaculated John's mother.

"I would not consent to be made a slave even for the sake of the
country. But the wages had to be raised,--and having raised them I
expect to get proper value for my money. If anything has to be given
away, let it be given away,--so that the people should know what it
is that they receive."

"That's just what we don't want to do here," said Lady Wharton, who
did not often join in any of these arguments.

"You're wrong, my lady," said her stepson. "You're only breeding
idleness when you teach people to think that they are earning wages
without working for their money. Whatever you do with 'em let 'em
know and feel the truth. It'll be the best in the long run."

"I'm sometimes happy when I think that I shan't live to see the