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Updated: May 13, 2025
He was a Wiltshireman, tall, sandy-haired, with a long face and a square jaw to which he gave an air of determination by constantly gritting his teeth. Gabrielle, as imitative as a starling, began to mimic this habit of his until one day he found himself staring at her, as at a mirror, and told her to stop.
Of course Old Cheeseman used to be called by the names of all sorts of cheeses Double Glo'sterman, Family Cheshireman, Dutchman, North Wiltshireman, and all that. But he never minded it. And I don't mean to say he was old in point of years because he wasn't only he was called from the first, Old Cheeseman. At last, Old Cheeseman was made second Latin Master.
"So you're a Wiltshireman?" I said. "So am I." And I held out my hand. He drew his own from beneath the bedclothes and held mine in an iron grip. "What might be your parts, sir?" His eyes lighted up with pleasure. "Why, zur, it be nex' parish; I come from B . I be main pleased to zee ye, zur." "The pleasure is mine," I said. "When did you join?" "I jined in July last year, zur. I be a resarvist."
This building, unfinished after nearly two hundred years, was roofed with lead, in place of the thatch which originally covered it, by William of Edyndon, the famous Wiltshireman who became Master of St. Cross in the fourteenth century, and who restored the fabric from the ruinous state in which he found it to a condition of beauty and strength.
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