your back-yard, think yourself mighty wise. But your wisdom ’ll go with your teeth. You’ll learn in time to say nothing.”
The old man went out and began his work, carrying the sacks of corn from the machine to the chamber.
“There’s a lot in the old Parrot,” said George, “as he’ll never tell.”
I laughed.
“He makes you feel, as well, as if you’d a lot to discover in life,” he continued, looking thoughtfully over the dusty straw-stack at the chuffing machine.
After the harvest was ended the father began to deplete his farm. Most of the stock was transferred to the “Ram.” George was going to take over his father’s milk business, and was going to farm enough of the land attaching to the Inn to support nine or ten cows. Until the spring, however, Mr. Saxton retained his own milk round, and worked at improving the condition of the land ready for the valuation. George, with three cows, started a little milk supply in the neighbourhood of the Inn, prepared his land for the summer, and helped in the public-house.
Emily was the first to depart finally from the Mill. She went to a school in Nottingham, and shortly afterwards Mollie, her younger sister, went to her. In October I moved to London. Lettie and Leslie were settled in their home in Brentwood, Yorkshire. We all felt very keenly our exile from Nethermere. But as yet the bonds were not broken; only use could sever them. Christmas brought us all home again, hastening to greet each other. There was a slight
