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Updated: June 24, 2025
'Tis but an old dream, but reckon the Lord God sends the old dreams to the old folk all them new dreams that are about on the Marsh, they goes to the young uns." "Well, you've no call to complain of your dreams, Stuppeny," said Wilson, "'tisn't everyone who has the luck to dream regular of a pretty young gal. Leastways, I guess she's pretty, though you äun't said it."
"Oh no he being only fifty-one and never thinking he'd be took for a long while yet. But I know it's what he'd have wanted, or why did he trouble to show me everything? And always talked to me about things as free as he did to Fuller and Stuppeny." "He would want you to do the best for yourself he wouldn't want you to take up a heavy burden just for his sake."
It was the first time she had been to market since his death, and she knew that folks would stare, so she might as well give them something to stare at. Outside the front door, in the drive, old Stuppeny was holding the head of Foxy, her mare, harnessed to the neat trap that Thomas Godden had bought early the same year.
She paid a man fifteen shillings a week for his labour and made no impossible demands of his prejudices and private habits. "I've been up an hour," she said, looking round on them, "and here I find all of you sitting like a lot of sacks." "It's two hours since I've bin out o' my warm bed," said old Stuppeny reproachfully. "You'd be as much use in it as out, if this is how you spend your time.
Her improvements gave her a sense of adventurous satisfaction her house with its yellow window frames and doors, with its new curtains of swaggering design her high-pooped waggons the coat with the brass buttons that old Stuppeny wore when he drove behind her to market her dreams of giant sheep upon her innings all appealed to something fundamental in her which was big and boastful.
She saw herself opening the ball with Dick Socknersh, her hand in his, his clumsy arm round her waist.... Of course old Stuppeny was technically the head man at Ansdore, but he was too old to dance she would see he had plenty to eat and drink instead she would take the floor with Dick Socknersh, and all eyes would be fixed upon her.
At the station she had to wake old Stuppeny out of his slumber on the back seat, and put him in his proper place at Smiler's head, while she went on the platform. The train was just due, and she had not passed many remarks with the ticket-collector a comely young fellow whom she liked for his build and the sauciness of his tongue before it arrived.
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