really likes taking the lead and pushing forward, and means a good deal of
what he says.

He is especially quite honest in his hospitality. All the same, so far as
business is concerned, it is pure gambling, which may answer very well in
favourable times, but is not unlikely to end in failure should the strain
of depression become too severe. Personal popularity, however, will tide
him over a great deal. When a man is spoken highly of by gentry, clergy,
literally everybody, the bank is remarkably accommodating. Such a man may
get for his bare signature--almost pressed on him, as if his acceptance of
it were a favour--what another would have to deposit solid security for.

In plain language, he borrows money and invests it in every possible way.
His farms are simply the basis of his credit. He buys blood shorthorns, he
buys blood horses, and he sells them again. He buys wheat, hay, &c., to
dispose of them at a profit. If he chose, he could explain to you the
meaning of contango, and even of that mysterious term to the uninitiated,
'backwardation.' His speculations for the 'account' are sometimes heavy.
So much so, that occasionally, with thousands invested, he has hardly any
ready money. But, then, there are the crops; he can get money on the
coming crops. There is, too, the live stock money can be borrowed on the
stock.

Here lies the secret reason of the dread of foreign cattle disease. The
increase of our flocks and herds is, of course, a patriotic cry (and
founded on fact); but the secret pinch is this--if foot-and-mouth,
pleuro-pneumonia, or rinderpest threaten the stock, the tenant-farmer
cannot borrow on that security. The local bankers shake their heads--three
cases of rinderpest are equivalent to a reduction of 25 per cent. in the
borrowing power of the agriculturist. The auctioneers and our friends have