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Updated: May 27, 2025
Let Dan Barnett keep the place; the doctor offers me one that will make us a happy home; and it will be, will it not?" Mary glanced at her mother before replying, and James Ellis clasped the young man's hand, while Mrs Ellis rushed out to have what she called a good hearty cry. "Lor', missus," said old Tummus, "I never worried much about it.
I say it again: What's the good o' livin'? You on'y get horrid owd, and your missus allus naggin' you at home, and your Dan Barnetts shoutin' at you in the garden, or else Master Ellis here giving it to you about something." "You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Tummus," said his wife. "To go and say such a thing to Mr Ellis's face, as has allus been a kind friend to you."
Though he wore the usual dress of the Englishman of his day frock, knee breeches and buckle shoes, none of them in their first youth there was a something outlandish about him, in the bright yellow of his neckcloth and the red feather stuck at a jaunty angle into the ribbon of his hat; and Tummus, as he looked curiously after his strange passenger, shook his head and bit the straw in his mouth, and muttered: "Ay, it binna on'y the nose, 't binna on'y the nose, with his Jehus an' such."
The Bon Chretiens were particularly fine that year, and one which had become worm-eaten, and had in consequence prematurely ripened, showing all the bright tints of its kind, had fallen and lay ready to rot, when, hoeing away, old Tummus saw it, smiled to himself as he thought how it would please old Hannah, picked it up and laid it aside ready to take up to the bothy when he put on his coat at dinner-time.
Tummus picked up that pear and laid it in the green cup formed by a young broccoli plant, went on with his hoeing till the bell rang, and was half-way to the gate, stick and lunch-basket in hand, when he remembered the pear, and hurried back that is to say, he walked back not quite so slowly as usual, for Tummus never ran.
John Grange wrung the old man's hand, and went on in perfect ignorance of the trap that had been laid, with the idea that if he were injured and had to go to a hospital once again, it was not likely that he would return to the gardens; while old Tummus went off to the tool-shed, a quiet, retired nook, suitable for a good think, to cogitate as to what he should do under the circumstances.
They walked on in silence till they reached a gate opening upon the green meadow, where John Grange stopped short with his hand resting upon the upper bar. "What is it, my lad?" said old Tummus. "I was only thinking of how helpless I am. I thank you, Tummus," he said simply, as he turned and held out his hand. "I might have cut myself terribly." "Aye, you might, my lad.
For he was full of hope, a hope which grew stronger as the time went by. Then old Tummus came up to see him, and gladdened his heart with old-fashioned chatter about the garden, obstinately dwelling upon the "taters," and cabbages, and codlin and cat's-head apples, when the patient was eager to hear about the orchids, grapes, pines, and melons, which he pictured as he had seen them last.
"Never mind," he thought, with a grin, "I dessay there'll be a few cold taters left, and I must have them with my tea." That same evening, after old Tummus had finished a meal which more than made up for his abstemiously plain dinner, he made up his mind to tell John Grange out in the garden.
It was Tummus Biles, the tranter, who had driven a tall stranger from Chester to the present spot, and whose indignation at being miscalled Jehu had only been appeased by a quart of strong ale. On the other side of the fireplace, curled up on a settle, and also asleep, lay the black boy, Scipio Africanus.
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