"But, Good Lord!" he cried, "how did you manage to find any worry in a
village?"
I tried to explain. Living in a village narrows one; the outside world
is gradually forgotten, and the opinions of ignoramuses gradually come
to matter. I found myself beginning to worry over the adverse
criticisms of villagers who could not read nor write.
"You've got neurasthenia," said Watterson; "what you want to do is to
settle down on a farm for six months; live in the open air and do
nothing strenuous. Don't try to think, and for God's sake don't worry.
Read _John Bull_ and _The Pink 'Un_, and chuck all the weekly
intellectual reviews. And ... most important of all, fall in love with a
rosy-cheeked daughter of the soil."
I have written to Frank Thomson, the farmer of Eagleshowe, asking if he
still wants a cattleman. His last man was conscripted, and if the job is
still vacant Frank will give it to me.
To-night I sit chuckling. The idea of a dismissed dominie's returning to
a village to feed cattle is rich. The village will extract much
amusement out of it. I imagine Peter Mitchell looking over the dyke and
crying: "Weel, dominie, and how is the experiment in eddication gettin'
on?"
* * *
I sit at a bright peat fire in Frank Thomson's bothy. I arrived at three
o'clock and no bairn was about the station. I was glad, for I did not
want to meet anyone. There was a queer feeling of shame in returning; I
feared to meet anyone's glance. To return a few days after an affecting
farewell is the last word in anticlimax; it is so horribly undramatic a
thing to do. I wish that Lazarus had kept a diary after his
resurrection; I fancy that quite a few people resented his return.
I cannot write more to-night; I am tired out. The most tiring thing in
the world is to rise in one place and go to bed in another.
* * *
I was going out to fetch the cows this afternoon when I espied three
girls in white pinafores at the top of the field. They waved their hands
and ran down to meet me.
"We'll help you to take in the cows," cried Janet. They accepted my
return without even the slightest curiosity, and I was glad.
"Righto!" I said, "but wait a bit. I want to sketch the farm first."