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"Why, sir, you can hardly miss him, except it's o' Treddles'on market-day--that's of a Friday, you know For if he's anywhere on the farot rid o' the Scantlands, we should have no outlying fields; and I should be glad of it, for if ever anything happens, he's sure to be gone to the Scantlands Things allays happen so contrairy, if they've a chance; and it's an unnat'ral thing to have one bit o' your farm in one county and all the rest in another"
"Ah, the Scantlands would go much better with Choyce's farot plenty I think yours is the prettiest farh; and do you know, Mrs Poyser, if I were going to marry and settle, I should be tempted to turn you out, and do up this fine old house, and turn farmer myself"
"Oh, sir," said Mrs Poyser, rather alar, it's puttingit out wi' your left As fur as I can see, it's raising victual for other folks and just getting aNot as you'd be like a poor et his bread--you could afford to lose asreat folks i' London play atFor my husband heard at market as Lord Dacey's eldest son had lost thousands upo' thousands to the Prince o' Wales, and they saidto pawn her jewels to pay for him But you know , sir, I canna think as you'd like it; and this house--the draughts in it are enough to cut you through, and it's my opinion the floors upstairs are very rotten, and the rats i' the cellar are beyond anything"
"Why, that's a terrible picture, Mrs Poyser I think I should be doing you a service to turn you out of such a place But there's no chance of that I'm not likely to settle for the next twenty years, till I'randfather would never consent to part with such good tenants as you"
"Well, sir, if he thinks so well o' Mr Poyser for a tenant I wish you could put in a word for hiates for the Five closes, fortill he's tired, and to think o' what he's done for the farood And as I've said to my husband often and often, I' to do with it, it wouldn't be so Not as I wish to speak disrespectful o' theot the power i' their hands, but it'sand striving, and up early and down late, and hardly sleeping a hen you lie down for thinking as the cheese row green again i' the sheaf--and after all, at th' end o' the year, it's like as if you'd been cooking a feast and had got the smell of it for your pains"