The Crock of Gold - A Rural Novel by Martin Farquhar Tupper
page 76 of 215 (35%)
page 76 of 215 (35%)
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sensitive and conscious soul--that was some where galloping away for
fifteen hours in the Paradise of fools: the Paradise? no--the Maƫlstrom; tossed about giddily and painfully in one whirl of tumultuous drunkenness. CHAPTER XVI. HOW THE HOME WAS BLEST THEREBY. IT will surprise no one to be told that, however truly such an excess may have been the first, it was by no means the last exploit of our altered labourer in the same vein of heroism. Bacchus's was quite close, and he needs must call for his change; he had to call often; drank all quits; changed another sovereign, and was owed again; but, trust him, he wasn't going to be cheated out of that: take care of the pence, and the pounds will take care of themselves. But still it was ditto repeated; changing, being owed, grudging, grumbling: at last he found out the famous new plan of owing himself; and as Bacchus's did not see fit to reject such wealthy customers, Roger soon chalked up a yard-long score, and grew so niggardly that they could not get a penny from him. It is astonishing how immediately wealth brings in, as its companion, meanness: they walk together, and stand together, and kneel together, as the hectoring, prodigal Faulconbridge, the Bastard Plantagenet in _King John_, does with his white-livered, puny brother, Robert. Wherefore, no |
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