The turnpike-road by which the cottage[222] stood
Led through a very picturesque neighbourhood,
In one direction, to the market-town,—
A place, for some-time past, of much renown,
And where the produce of this large estate—
Excepting that required at Rollingate,
Was carted, and there sold as merchandise,
Which seldom ever fail’d to realise
The highest current price. Now it was plann’d
The salesman, henceforth, should be Hollybrand,—
(For Cartwright[223] thought no man could better be
Adapted to this branch of sovereignty—
Besides a fit and proper personage
To buy and sell and labourers to engage;
He also thought for sake of his dear child,
That George would see nought wasted or e’er spoil’d.)
So with th’ assistance of young Martha Gray
(Old Andrew’s niece), whom George engaged to stay,
He ’gan to feel at home, and soon became
Possessor of a moderate share of fame;
Whilst Martha, who could read and write with ease,
Grew every day more studiously to please,
And would assist her master now and then
(When he required it) with her ready pen,—
Thus then when Hollybrand had to present
A statement of his dealings she, intent
Upon the subject, penn’d them most correct’,—
As Cartwright seldom ever could detect
Aught wrong in the account, but should there be
The steward rectified it willingly.
Thus George, who scarcely ever had to do
With such important matters hitherto,
Became so skilful in the dealing art
That he was courted at the business mart—
Yes, so much so that he at last was ta’en
As arbitrator and criterion:
And once-a-week for twenty years or more,
On Wednesdays at an usual early hour,
George to the township hied, there sold or bought;
His word was honor’d, and his custom sought.
’Tis fair to say—’Twas not for that alone
That George was noted at this market town;
But on account of Arnold’s generousness—
His great regard for all their happiness;
And—proof of this—it was their next intent,—
In illustration of their sentiment,
When he return’d home from the Continent,—
With unanimity to celebrate
Th’ arrival of the Lord of Rollingate.
’Twas rare indeed, but where there happ’d to be
A case, or cases, of real poverty
Made known to Arnold, p’rhaps by some good soul,
He ne’er demurr’d but instantly forestole
Their own anticipations with tenfold
Th’ expected silver or expected gold;
And to encourage the philanthropist—
If so invited—he would head the list,
And thus facilitate the needed crave—
To aid the living, or to find a grave
For some one dead, where were no means to pay;
Or to support the annual holiday;
According as the question might arise:
But should he e’er detect one in disguise
Soliciting his alms and feigning poor
He’d cast the wretch with vengeance from the door;
Nor would begrudge t’uplift his shapely foot
And send the traitor reeling o’er—to boot.
[222] The lodge.
[223] Lord Arnold’s steward.