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Far From The Madding Crowd, a novel by Thomas Hardy

CHAPTER XXXIII - IN THE SUN -- A HARBINGER

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CHAPTER XXXIII - IN THE SUN -- A HARBINGER


A WEEK passed, and there were no tidings of Bathsheba; nor
was there any explanation of her Gilpin's rig.

Then a note came for Maryann, stating that the business
which had called her mistress to Bath still detained her
there; but that she hoped to return in the course of another
week.

Another week passed. The oat-harvest began, and all the men
were a-field under a monochromatic Lammas sky, amid the
trembling air and short shadows of noon. Indoors nothing
was to be heard save the droning of blue-bottle flies; out-
of-doors the whetting of scythes and the hiss of tressy oat-
ears rubbing together as their perpendicular stalks of
amber-yellow fell heavily to each swath. Every drop of
moisture not in the men's bottles and flagons in the form of
cider was raining as perspiration from their foreheads and
cheeks. Drought was everywhere else.

They were about to withdraw for a while into the charitable
shade of a tree in the fence, when Coggan saw a figure in a
blue coat and brass buttons running to them across the
field.

"I wonder who that is?" he said.

"I hope nothing is wrong about mistress," said Maryann, who
with some other women was tying the bundles (oats being
always sheafed on this farm), "but an unlucky token came to
me indoors this morning. I went to unlock the door and
dropped the key, and it fell upon the stone floor and broke
into two pieces. Breaking a key is a dreadful bodement. I
wish mis'ess was home."

"'Tis Cain Ball," said Gabriel, pausing from whetting his
reaphook.

Oak was not bound by his agreement to assist in the corn-
field; but the harvest month is an anxious time for a
farmer, and the corn was Bathsheba's, so he lent a hand.

"He's dressed up in his best clothes," said Matthew Moon.
"He hev been away from home for a few days, since he's had
that felon upon his finger; for 'a said, since I can't work
I'll have a hollerday."

"A good time for one -- a' excellent time," said Joseph
Poorgrass, straightening his back; for he, like some of the
others, had a way of resting a while from his labour on such
hot days for reasons preternaturally small; of which Cain
Ball's advent on a week-day in his Sunday-clothes was one of
the first magnitude. "Twas a bad leg allowed me to read the
PILGRIM'S PROGRESS, and Mark Clark learnt All-Fours in a
whitlow."

"Ay, and my father put his arm out of joint to have time to
go courting," said Jan Coggan, in an eclipsing tone, wiping
his face with his shirt-sleeve and thrusting back his hat
upon the nape of his neck.

By this time Cainy was nearing the group of harvesters, and
was perceived to be carrying a large slice of bread and ham
in one hand, from which he took mouthfuls as he ran, the
other being wrapped in a bandage. When he came close, his
mouth assumed the bell shape, and he began to cough
violently.

"Now, Cainy!" said Gabriel, sternly. "How many more times
must I tell you to keep from running so fast when you be
eating? You'll choke yourself some day, that's what you'll
do, Cain Ball."

"Hok-hok-hok!" replied Cain. "A crumb of my victuals went
the wrong way -- hok-hok!, That's what 'tis, Mister Oak! And
I've been visiting to Bath because I had a felon on my
thumb; yes, and I've seen -- ahok-hok!"

Directly Cain mentioned Bath, they all threw down their
hooks and forks and drew round him. Unfortunately the
erratic crumb did not improve his narrative powers, and a
supplementary hindrance was that of a sneeze, jerking from
his pocket his rather large watch, which dangled in front of
the young man pendulum-wise.

"Yes," he continued, directing his thoughts to Bath and
letting his eyes follow, "I've seed the world at last -- yes
-- and I've seed our mis'ess -- ahok-hok-hok!"

"Bother the boy!" said Gabriel. "Something is always going
the wrong way down your throat, so that you can't tell
what's necessary to be told."

"Ahok! there! Please, Mister Oak, a gnat have just fleed
into my stomach and brought the cough on again!"

"Yes, that's just it. Your mouth is always open, you young
rascal!"

"'Tis terrible bad to have a gnat fly down yer throat, pore
boy!" said Matthew Moon.

"Well, at Bath you saw ----" prompted Gabriel.

"I saw our mistress," continued the junior shepherd, "and a
sojer, walking along. And bymeby they got closer and
closer, and then they went arm-in-crook, like courting
complete -- hok-hok! like courting complete -- hok! --
courting complete ----" Losing the thread of his narrative
at this point simultaneously with his loss of breath, their
informant looked up and down the field apparently for some
clue to it. "Well, I see our mis'ess and a soldier -- a-ha-
a-wk!"

"Damn the boy!" said Gabriel.

"'Tis only my manner, Mister Oak, if ye'll excuse it," said
Cain Ball, looking reproachfully at Oak, with eyes drenched
in their own dew.

"Here's some cider for him -- that'll cure his throat," said
Jan Coggan, lifting a flagon of cider, pulling out the cork,
and applying the hole to Cainy's mouth; Joseph Poorgrass in
the meantime beginning to think apprehensively of the
serious consequences that would follow Cainy Ball's
strangulation in his cough, and the history of his Bath
adventures dying with him.

"For my poor self, I always say 'please God' afore I do
anything," said Joseph, in an unboastful voice; "and so
should you, Cain Ball. 'Tis a great safeguard, and might
perhaps save you from being choked to death some day."

Mr. Coggan poured the liquor with unstinted liberality at
the suffering Cain's circular mouth; half of it running down
the side of the flagon, and half of what reached his mouth
running down outside his throat, and half of what ran in
going the wrong way, and being coughed and sneezed around
the persons of the gathered reapers in the form of a cider
fog, which for a moment hung in the sunny air like a small
exhalation.

"There's a great clumsy sneeze! Why can't ye have better
manners, you young dog!" said Coggan, withdrawing the
flagon.

"The cider went up my nose!" cried Cainy, as soon as he
could speak; "and now 'tis gone down my neck, and into my
poor dumb felon, and over my shiny buttons and all my best
cloze!"

"The poor lad's cough is terrible unfortunate," said Matthew
Moon. "And a great history on hand, too. Bump his back,
shepherd."

"'Tis my nater," mourned Cain. "Mother says I always was so
excitable when my feelings were worked up to a point!"

"True, true," said Joseph Poorgrass. "The Balls were always
a very excitable family. I knowed the boy's grandfather --
a truly nervous and modest man, even to genteel refinery.
'Twas blush, blush with him, almost as much as 'tis with me
-- not but that 'tis a fault in me!"

"Not at all, Master Poorgrass," said Coggan. "'Tis a very
noble quality in ye."

"Heh-heh! well, I wish to noise nothing abroad -- nothing at
all," murmured Poorgrass, diffidently. "But we be born to
things -- that's true. Yet I would rather my trifle were
hid; though, perhaps, a high nater is a little high, and at
my birth all things were possible to my Maker, and he may
have begrudged no gifts.... But under your bushel, Joseph!
under your bushel with 'ee! A strange desire, neighbours,
this desire to hide, and no praise due. Yet there is a
Sermon on the Mount with a calendar of the blessed at the
head, and certain meek men may be named therein."

"Cainy's grandfather was a very clever man," said Matthew
Moon. "Invented a' apple-tree out of his own head, which is
called by his name to this day -- the Early Ball. You know
'em, Jan? A Quarrenden grafted on a Tom Putt, and a Rathe-
ripe upon top o' that again. 'Tis trew 'a used to bide
about in a public-house wi' a 'ooman in a way he had no
business to by rights, but there -- 'a were a clever man in
the sense of the term."

"Now then," said Gabriel, impatiently, "what did you see,
Cain?"

"I seed our mis'ess go into a sort of a park place, where
there's seats, and shrubs and flowers, arm-in-crook with a
sojer," continued Cainy, firmly, and with a dim sense that
his words were very effective as regarded Gabriel's
emotions. "And I think the sojer was Sergeant Troy. And
they sat there together for more than half-an-hour, talking
moving things, and she once was crying a'most to death. And
when they came out her eyes were shining and she was as
white as a lily; and they looked into one another's faces,
as far-gone friendly as a man and woman can be."

Gabriel's features seemed to get thinner. "Well, what did
you see besides?"

"Oh, all sorts."

"White as a lily? You are sure 'twas she?"

"Yes."

"Well, what besides?"

"Great glass windows to the shops, and great clouds in the
sky, full of rain, and old wooden trees in the country
round."

"You stun-poll! What will ye say next?" said Coggan.

"Let en alone," interposed Joseph Poorgrass. "The boy's
meaning is that the sky and the earth in the kingdom of Bath
is not altogether different from ours here. 'Tis for our
good to gain knowledge of strange cities, and as such the
boy's words should be suffered, so to speak it."

"And the people of Bath," continued Cain, "never need to
light their fires except as a luxury, for the water springs
up out of the earth ready boiled for use."

"'Tis true as the light," testified Matthew Moon. "I've
heard other navigators say the same thing."

"They drink nothing else there," said Cain, "and seem to
enjoy it, to see how they swaller it down."

"Well, it seems a barbarian practice enough to us, but I
daresay the natives think nothing o' it," said Matthew.

"And don't victuals spring up as well as drink?" asked
Coggan, twirling his eye.

"No -- I own to a blot there in Bath -- a true blot. God
didn't provide 'em with victuals as well as drink, and 'twas
a drawback I couldn't get over at all."

"Well, 'tis a curious place, to say the least," observed
Moon; "and it must be a curious people that live therein."

"Miss Everdene and the soldier were walking about together,
you say?" said Gabriel, returning to the group.

"Ay, and she wore a beautiful gold-colour silk gown, trimmed
with black lace, that would have stood alone 'ithout legs
inside if required. 'Twas a very winsome sight; and her
hair was brushed splendid. And when the sun shone upon the
bright gown and his red coat -- my! how handsome they
looked. You could see 'em all the length of the street."

"And what then?" murmured Gabriel.

"And then I went into Griffin's to hae my boots hobbed, and
then I went to Riggs's batty-cake shop, and asked 'em for a
penneth of the cheapest and nicest stales, that were all but
blue-mouldy, but not quite. And whilst I was chawing 'em
down I walked on and seed a clock with a face as big as a
baking trendle ----"

"But that's nothing to do with mistress!"

"I'm coming to that, if you'll leave me alone, Mister Oak!"
remonstrated Cainy. "If you excites me, perhaps you'll
bring on my cough, and then I shan't be able to tell ye
nothing."

"Yes -- let him tell it his own way," said Coggan.

Gabriel settled into a despairing attitude of patience, and
Cainy went on: --

"And there were great large houses, and more people all the
week long than at Weatherbury club-walking on White
Tuesdays. And I went to grand churches and chapels. And
how the parson would pray! Yes; he would kneel down and put
up his hands together, and make the holy gold rings on his
fingers gleam and twinkle in yer eyes, that he'd earned by
praying so excellent well! -- Ah yes, I wish I lived there."

"Our poor Parson Thirdly can't get no money to buy such
rings," said Matthew Moon, thoughtfully. "And as good a man
as ever walked. I don't believe poor Thirdly have a single
one, even of humblest tin or copper. Such a great ornament
as they'd be to him on a dull afternoon, when he's up in the
pulpit lighted by the wax candles! But 'tis impossible,
poor man. Ah, to think how unequal things be."

"Perhaps he's made of different stuff than to wear 'em,"
said Gabriel, grimly. "Well, that's enough of this. Go on,
Cainy -- quick."

"Oh -- and the new style of parsons wear moustaches and long
beards," continued the illustrious traveller, "and look like
Moses and Aaron complete, and make we fokes in the
congregation feel all over like the children of Israel."

"A very right feeling -- very," said Joseph Poorgrass.

"And there's two religions going on in the nation now --
High Church and High Chapel. And, thinks I, I'll play fair;
so I went to High Church in the morning, and High Chapel in
the afternoon."

"A right and proper boy," said Joseph Poorgrass.

"Well, at High Church they pray singing, and worship all the
colours of the rainbow; and at High Chapel they pray
preaching, and worship drab and whitewash only. And then --
I didn't see no more of Miss Everdene at all."

"Why didn't you say so afore, then?" exclaimed Oak, with
much disappointment.

"Ah," said Matthew Moon, "she'll wish her cake dough if so
be she's over intimate with that man."

"She's not over intimate with him," said Gabriel,
indignantly.

"She would know better," said Coggan. "Our mis'ess has too
much sense under they knots of black hair to do such a mad
thing."

"You see, he's not a coarse, ignorant man, for he was well
brought up," said Matthew, dubiously. "'Twas only wildness
that made him a soldier, and maids rather like your man of
sin."

"Now, Cain Ball," said Gabriel restlessly, "can you swear in
the most awful form that the woman you saw was Miss
Everdene?"

"Cain Ball, you be no longer a babe and suckling," said
Joseph in the sepulchral tone the circumstances demanded,
"and you know what taking an oath is. 'Tis a horrible
testament mind ye, which you say and seal with your blood-
stone, and the prophet Matthew tells us that on whomsoever
it shall fall it will grind him to powder. Now, before all
the work-folk here assembled, can you swear to your words as
the shepherd asks ye?"

"Please no, Mister Oak!" said Cainy, looking from one to the
other with great uneasiness at the spiritual magnitude of
the position. "I don't mind saying 'tis true, but I don't
like to say 'tis damn true, if that's what you mane."

"Cain, Cain, how can you!" asked Joseph sternly. "You be
asked to swear in a holy manner, and you swear like wicked
Shimei, the son of Gera, who cursed as he came. Young man,
fie!"

"No, I don't! 'Tis you want to squander a pore boy's soul,
Joseph Poorgrass -- that's what 'tis!" said Cain, beginning
to cry. "All I mane is that in common truth 'twas Miss
Everdene and Sergeant Troy, but in the horrible so-help-me
truth that ye want to make of it perhaps 'twas somebody
else!"

"There's no getting at the rights of it," said Gabriel,
turning to his work.

"Cain Ball, you'll come to a bit of bread!" groaned Joseph
Poorgrass.

Then the reapers' hooks were flourished again, and the old
sounds went on. Gabriel, without making any pretence of
being lively, did nothing to show that he was particularly
dull. However, Coggan knew pretty nearly how the land lay,
and when they were in a nook together he said --

"Don't take on about her, Gabriel. What difference does it
make whose sweetheart she is, since she can't be yours?"

"That's the very thing I say to myself," said Gabriel.

Content of CHAPTER XXXIII - IN THE SUN -- A HARBINGER [Thomas Hardy's novel: Far From The Madding Crowd]

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Read next: CHAPTER XXXIV - HOME AGAIN -- A TRICKSTER

Read previous: CHAPTER XXXII - NIGHT -- HORSES TRAMPING

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