me she was getting my supper ready, with
a weak imitation of Annie. She knew that the gift of cooking was not
vouchsafed by God to her; but sometimes she would do her best, by
intellect to win it. Whereas it is no more to be won by intellect than
is divine poetry. An amount of strong quick heart is needful, and the
understanding must second it, in the one art as in the other. Now my
fare was very choice for the next three days or more; yet not turned out
like Annie's. They could do a thing well enough on the fire; but they
could not put it on table so; nor even have plates all piping hot. This
was Annie's special gift; born in her, and ready to cool with her; like
a plate borne away from the fireplace. I sighed sometimes about Lorna,
and they thought it was about the plates. And mother would stand and
look at me, as much as to say, 'No pleasing him'; and Lizzie would jerk
up one shoulder, and cry, 'He had better have Lorna to cook for him';
while the whole truth was that I wanted not to be plagued about any
cookery; but just to have something good and quiet, and then smoke and
think about Lorna.

Nevertheless the time went on, with one change and another; and we
gathered all our harvest in; and Parson Bowden thanked God for it,
both in church and out of it; for his tithes would be very goodly. The
unmatched cold of the previous winter, and general fear of scarcity, and
our own talk about our ruin, had sent prices up to a grand high pitch;
and we did our best to keep them there. For nine Englishmen out of every
ten believe that a bitter winter must breed a sour summer, and explain
away topmost prices. While according to my experience, more often it
would be otherwise, except for the public thinking so. However, I have
said too much; and if any farmer reads my book, he will vow that I wrote
it for nothing else except to rob his family.

CHAPTER LXII

THE KING MUST NOT BE PRAYED FOR

All our neighbourhood was surprised that the Doones had not ere now
attacked, and probably made an end of us. For we lay almost at their
mercy now, having only Sergeant Bloxham, and three men, to protect us,
Captain Stickles having been ordered southwards with all his force;
except such as might be needful for collecting toll, and watching the
imports at Lynmouth, and thence to Porlock. The Sergeant, having now
imbibed a taste for writing reports (though his first great effort had
done him no good, and only offended Stickles), reported