Bracebridge Hall

The Farm-House

I was so much pleased with the anecdotes which were told me of

Ready-Money Jack Tibbets, that I got Master Simon, a day or two since,

to take me to his house. It was an old-fashioned farm-house, built of

brick, with curiously twisted chimneys. It stood at a little distance

from the road, with a southern exposure, looking upon a soft green slope

of meadow. There was a small garden in front, with a row of beehives

humming among beds of sweet herbs and flowers. Well-scoured milking

tubs, with bright copper hoops, hung on the garden paling. Fruit trees

were trained up against the cottage, and pots of flowers stood in the

windows. A fat superannuated mastiff lay in the sunshine at the door;

with a sleek cat sleeping peacefully across him.

Mr. Tibbets was from home at the time of our calling, but we were

received with hearty and homely welcome by his wife--a notable, motherly

woman, and a complete pattern for wives, since, according to Master

Simon's account, she never contradicts honest Jack, and yet manages to

have her own way, and to control him in everything. She received us in

the main room of the house, a kind of parlour or hall, with great brown

beams of timber across it, which Mr. Tibbets is apt to point out with

some exultation, observing that they don't put such timber in houses

now-a-days. The furniture was old-fashioned, strong, and highly

polished; the walls were hung with coloured prints of the story of the

Prodigal Son, who was represented in a red coat and leather breeches.

Over the fireplace was a blunderbuss, and a hard-favoured likeness of

Ready-Money Jack, taken, when he was a young man, by the same artist

that painted the tavern sign; his mother having taken a notion that the

Tibbetses had as much right to have a gallery of family portraits as the

folks at the Hall.

The good dame pressed us very much to take some refreshment, and tempted

us with a variety of household dainties, so that we were glad to

compound by tasting some of her home-made wines. While we were there,

the son and heir-apparent came home; a good-looking young fellow, and

something of a rustic beau. He took us over the premises, and showed us

the whole establishment. An air of homely but substantial plenty

prevailed throughout; everything was of the best materials, and in the

best condition. Nothing was out of place, or ill made; and you saw

everywhere the signs of a man that took care to have the worth of his

money, and that paid as he went.

The farm-yard was well stocked; under a shed was a taxed cart, in trim

order, in which Ready-Money Jack took his wife about the country. His

well-fed horse neighed from the stable, and when led out into the yard,

to use the words of young Jack, "he shone like a bottle;" for he said

the old man made it a rule that everything about him should fare as well

as he did himself.

I was pleased to see the pride which the young fellow seemed to have of

his father. He gave us several particulars concerning his habits, which

were pretty much to the effect of those I have already mentioned. He had

never suffered an account to stand in his life, always providing the

money before he purchased anything; and, if possible, paying in gold and

silver. He had a great dislike to paper money, and seldom went without a

considerable sum in gold about him. On my observing that it was a wonder

he had never been waylaid and robbed, the young fellow smiled at the

idea of any one venturing upon such an exploit, for I believe he thinks

the old man would be a match for Robin Hood and all his gang.

I have noticed that Master Simon seldom goes into any house without

having a world of private talk with some one or other of the family,

being a kind of universal counsellor and confidant. We had not been long

at the farm before the old dame got him into a corner of her parlour,

where they had a long whispering conference together; in which I saw by

his shrugs that there were some dubious matters discussed, and by his

nods that he agreed with everything she said.

After we had come out, the young man accompanied us a little distance,

and then, drawing Master Simon aside into a green lane, they walked and

talked together for nearly half-an-hour. Master Simon, who has the usual

propensity of confidants to blab everything to the next friend they meet

with, let me know that there was a love affair in question; the young

fellow having been smitten with the charms of Phoebe Wilkins, the pretty

niece of the housekeeper at the Hall. Like most other love concerns, it

had brought its troubles and perplexities. Dame Tibbets had long been

on intimate gossiping terms with the housekeeper, who often visited the

farm-house; but when the neighbours spoke to her of the likelihood of a

match between her son and Phoebe Wilkins, "Marry come up!" she scouted

the very idea. The girl had acted as lady's maid, and it was beneath the

blood of the Tibbetses, who had lived on their own lands time out of

mind, and owed reverence and thanks to nobody, to have the heir-apparent

marry a servant!

These vapourings had faithfully been carried to the housekeeper's ear by

one of the mutual go-between friends. The old housekeeper's blood, if

not as ancient, was as quick as that of Dame Tibbets.

She had been accustomed to carry a high head at the Hall and among the

villagers; and her faded brocade rustled with indignation at the slight

cast upon her alliance by the wife of a petty farmer. She maintained

that her niece had been a companion rather than a waiting-maid to the

young ladies. "Thank heavens, she was not obliged to work for her

living, and was as idle as any young lady in the land; and when somebody

died, would receive something that would be worth the notice of some

folks with all their ready money."

A bitter feud had thus taken place between the two worthy dames, and the

young people were forbidden to think of one another. As to young Jack,

he was too much in love to reason upon the matter; and being a little

heady, and not standing in much awe of his mother, was ready to

sacrifice the whole dignity of the Tibbetses to his passion. He had

lately, however, had a violent quarrel with his mistress, in consequence

of some coquetry on her part, and at present stood aloof. The politic

mother was exerting all her ingenuity to widen this accidental breach;

but, as is most commonly the case, the more she meddled with this

perverse inclination of her son, the stronger it grew. In the meantime

Old Ready-Money was kept completely in the dark; both parties were in

awe and uncertainty as to what might be his way of taking the matter,

and dreaded to awaken the sleeping lion. Between father and son,

therefore, the worthy Mrs. Tibbets was full of business and at her wits'

end. It is true that there was no great danger of honest Ready-Money's

finding the thing out, if left to himself; for he was of a most

unsuspicious temper, and by no means quick of apprehension; but there

was daily risk of his attention being aroused by those cobwebs which his

indefatigable wife was continually spinning about his nose.

Such is the distracted state of politics in the domestic empire of

Ready-Money Jack; which only shows the intrigues and internal dangers to

which the best regulated governments are liable. In this perplexing

situation of their affairs, both mother and son have applied to Master

Simon for counsel; and, with all his experience in meddling with other

people's concerns, he finds it an exceedingly difficult part to play, to

agree with both parties, seeing that their opinions and wishes are so

diametrically opposite.