off with your jackets and
carry wheat for the rest of the day.'" Next Sunday all my neighbours
were busy with their wheat, but I had managed to complete my harvest
during the previous week, on the 8th of October, quite a month or six
weeks later than usual, and an extraordinary contrast to the very dry
year 1868, when all the corn on the farm, I was told, was carried
before the last day of July.

I attended a neighbour's sale that autumn; the wet seasons and the low
prices had been too much for him, and he was leaving for the United
States; his rick-yard was empty, all the corn sold, and nothing but
straw left. I heard him remark, "Folks are saying that I'm very
backward with my payments, but I'm very forward with my thrashing,
anyway!" Before the following spring nearly all the rick-yards were
empty, and wheat-ricks, it was said, were as scarce as churches--one
in each parish. The situation was summed up later in a phrase which
passed into a proverb: "In 1879 farmers lived on faith, in 1880 they
are living on hope, and in 1881 they will have to live on charity."

The attitude of the towns was one of apathy and indifference, like
that of the General in _Bracebridge Hall_, which, published in 1822,
proves how history repeats itself in agricultural as in other matters:

"He is amazingly well-contented with the present state of things, and
apt to get a little impatient at any talk about national ruin and
agricultural distress. 'They talk of public distress,' said the
General this day to me at dinner, as he smacked a glass of rich
burgundy and cast his eyes about the ample board: 'They talk of public
distress, but where do we find it, sir? I see none; I see no reason
anyone has to complain. Take my word for it, sir, this talk about
public distress is all humbug!'"

At Evesham, long before the depression grew into a debacle, the
shadows of coming events could easily be detected. There was the
disappearance of the long rows of farmers' conveyances at the inns in
the town on market-days; there was the eclipse of shops--for other
than necessities--such as a little fish shop, opposite the corner at
the cross roads; a corner where much business was formerly transacted
in the open street, and where I myself have sold by sample some
thousands of sacks of wheat. A tempting little shop it used to be,
displaying shining Severn salmon; and it was here that the farmers,
after the market, obtained the supplies commanded by the missu