"Why, twelve shillings a week all round, besides allowances and privileges. But Sharpe would be cheap at three shillings a week more."
"And the others?"
"Well, they'd be dear at ten!"
"But, Oldsort, why don't you classify them a bit, and pay them what they are worth; or give them a little interest in their work? How does Newstyle manage?"
"I don't know, I'm sure. I don't like Newstyle."
"Because he gets all the best labourers from everyone else to work for him."
"Does he give higher wages?"
"He doesn't seem to; but somehow they earn more. He's got some trick of making them work. Why they look as if they was working for themselves!"
"Perhaps they are, Oldsort. Perhaps they are."
And his landlord rode quietly on from Oldsort's to visit Newstyle, who lived two or three miles off.
Now this Newstyle was a Yorkshire man, lately come into the district,—an active, energetic, intelligent farmer, who certainly had the knack of getting round him all the best labourers in the neighbourhood, and inducing them to work for him in a way they would work for no one else, as Oldsort had said. This was Newstyle's explanation of his