CHAPTER V

THE BORROWER AND THE GAMBLER

‘Where do he get the money from, you?’ ’It be curious, bean’t it; I minds when his father drove folks’ pigs to market.’  These remarks passed between two old farmers, one standing on the sward by the roadside, and the other talking to him over the low ledge, as a gentleman drove by in a Whitechapel dog-cart, groom behind.  The gentleman glanced at the two farmers, and just acknowledged their existence with a careless nod, looking at the moment over their heads and far away.

There is no class so jealous of a rapid rise as old-fashioned farming people.  They seem to think that if a man once drove pigs to market he should always continue to do so, and all his descendants likewise.  Their ideas in a measure approximate to those of caste among the Hindoos.  It is a crime to move out of the original groove; if a man be lowly he must remain lowly, or never be forgiven.  The lapse of time makes not the least difference.  If it takes the man thirty years to get into a fair position he is none the less guilty.  A period equal to the existence of a generation is not sufficient excuse for him.  He is not one whit better than if he had made his money by a lucky bet on a racehorse.  Nor can he ever hope to live down this terrible social misdemeanour, especially if it is accompanied by the least ostentation.

Now, in the present day a man who gets money shows off more than ever was the case.  In the olden time the means of luxury were limited, and the fortunate could do little more than drink, and tempt others to drink.  But to-day the fortunate farmer in the dog-cart, dressed like a gentleman, drove his thorough-bred, and carried his groom behind.  Frank D——­, Esq., in the slang of the time, ‘did the thing grand!’ The dog-cart was a first-rate article.  The horse was a high-stepper, such as are not to be bought for a song; the turn-out was at the first glance perfect.  But if you looked keenly at the groom, there was a suspicion of the plough in his face and attitude.  He did not sit like a man to the manner born.  He was lumpy; he lacked the light, active style characteristic of the thoroughbred groom, who is as distinct a breed as the thoroughbred horse.  The man looked as if he had been taken from the plough and was conscious of it.  His feet were in top-boots, but he could not forget the heavy action induced by a long course of walking in wet furrows.  The critics by the hedge were not capable of detecting these niceties.  The broad facts were enough for them.  There was the gentleman in his ulster, there was the resplendent turn-out, there was the groom, and there was the thoroughbred horse.  The man’s father drove their pigs to market, and they wanted to know where he got the money from.