'
'Aye, aye,' said Mr Macey, in the height of complacency, 'our
family's been known for musicianers as far back as anybody can tell.
But them things are dying out, as I tell Solomon every time he comes
round; there's no voices like what there used to be, and there's
nobody remembers what we remember, if it isn't the old crows.'
'Aye, you remember when first Mr Lammeter's father came into
these parts, don't you, Mr Macey?' said the landlord.
'I should think I did,' said the old man, who had now gone
through that complimentary process necessary to bring him up to the
point of narration, 'and a fine old gentleman he was- as fine, and
finer nor the Mr Lammeter as now is. He came from a bit north'ard,
so far as I could ever make out. But there's nobody rightly knows
about those parts: only it couldn't be far north'ard, nor much
different from this country, for he brought a fine breed o' sheep with
him, so there must be pastures there, and everything reasonable. We
heared tell as he'd sold his own land to come and take the Warrens,
and that seemed odd for a man as had land of his own, to come and rent
a farm in a strange place. But they say it was along of his wife's
dying; though there's reasons in things as nobody knows on- that's
pretty much what I've made out; though some folks are so wise, they'll
find you fifty reasons straight off, and all the while the real
reason's winking at 'em in the corner, and they niver see't.
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