ad said. Jolliffe merely grunted,
signifying by the grunt, as Hopkins thought, that though a gardener
couldn't eat a mountain of manure fifty feet long and fifteen
high,--couldn't eat in the body,--he might convert it into things
edible for his own personal use. And so there had been a great feud.
The unfortunate squire had of course been called on to arbitrate, and
having postponed his decision by every contrivance possible to him,
had at last been driven by Jolliffe to declare that Hopkins should
take nothing that was not assigned to him. Hopkins, when the decision
was made known to him by his master, bit his old lips, and turned
round upon his old heel, speechless. "You'll find it's so at all
other places," said the squire, apologetically. "Other places!"
sneered Hopkins. Where would he find other gardeners like himself?
It is hardly necessary to declare that from that moment he resolved
that he would abide by no such order. Jolliffe on the next morning
informed the squire that the order had been broken, and the squire
fretted and fumed, wishing that Jolliffe were well buried under the
mountain in question. "If they all is to do as they like," said
Jolliffe, "then nobody won't care for nobody." The squire understood
than an order if given must be obeyed, and therefore, with many inner
groanings of the spirit, resolved that war must be waged against
Hopkins.

On the following morning he found the old man himself wheeling a huge
barrow of manure round from the yard into the kitchen-garden. Now, on
ordinary occasions, Hopkins was not required to do with his own hands
work of that description. He had a man under him who hewed wood, and
carried water, and wheeled barrows,--one man always, and often two.
The squire knew when he saw him that he was sinning, and bade him
stop upon his road.

"Hopkins," he said, "why didn't you ask for what you wanted, before
you took it?" The old man put down the barrow on the ground, looked
up in his master's face, spat into his hands, and then again resumed
his barrow. "Hopkins, that won't do," said the squire. "Stop where
you are."

"What won't do?" said Hopkins, still holding the barrow from the
ground, but not as yet progressing.

"Put it down, Hopkins," and Hopkins did put it down. "Don't you know
that you are flatly disobeying my orders?"

"Squire, I've been here about this place going on nigh seventy
years."

"If you've been going on a hundred and seventy it wouldn't do that