He is never happy unless he is finding fault with something or somebody. No matter what it is, the stars in their courses have always conspired2 against him personally, or some unfortunate person has done the[Pg 99] very thing they should not have done, and so brought the matter in hand to utter grief.
Of course if they had listened to the Major everything would have progressed swimmingly; but as his opinions were seldom given until the fiasco had occurred (if occur it did), and even then were conflicting—not to say contradictory—recourse was seldom had to that fount of advice. It is generally whispered in Bullshire that when Bowles, after an infinity3 of trouble and expense, managed to inspire a certain amount of military enthusiasm sufficient for the formation of the corps5 of Bullshire Rifles, he refused to accept the command of them, in order that he might afterwards be able to say:
"Just like my luck; took all the trouble of getting the thing up, and then they go and put in a man over my head. A man, sir, who does not know his right hand from his left; a duffer, sir; a rank impostor, who calls himself Colonel, and is as ignorant of the [Pg 100]drill-book as—— But, there; it's always the same."
As a magistrate6 and justice of the peace he is equally aggrieved7. Witnesses somehow never can give their evidence in a straightforward8 manner, and the decisions of the Bench afford him vast scope for criticism. "Never heard of such a thing," he will tell you. "Man brought up for poaching. Found with a gun, going along the road. Asked what he was doing. Said he was taking it to be mended. Would you believe it? They dismissed the case, notwithstanding all I could say. Gave him the benefit of the doubt, sir; and they call that justice, by Heaven!"
It is no use pointing out that ample evidence was produced at the inquiry10 to show that the man's story was correct, he was taking the gun to be mended, and an over-zealous local policeman had, as is by no means unusual, exceeded his duty. The Major will reply that he knows, and if the magistrates11 don't choose to exercise their powers,[Pg 101] every loafer in Bullshire will be carrying a gun to be mended.
A stranger would naturally suppose from this that Mr. Bowles was not blessed with much heart; but he would be wrong. For it is a well-known fact that often when, in his official capacity, he has been forced to fine some poor devil who had been "looking on the wine when it was red"—or rather the beer when it was amber—and the sight had been too much for him, the Major, after the bench had dispersed12, would drive round to the delinquent's cottage and gladden the sorrowing wife by putting into her hand double the amount of the fine that had been inflicted13.
In the hunting-field he is looked upon as a standing9 joke, and if there are signs of a cover being blank, or a long wait at a cold corner, there is sure to be a party made up to "draw" the Major, the best of it being that he never sees men are laughing at him, but lays down the law, and abuses, condemns14, and[Pg 102] complains with the utmost heartiness15 and volubility.
Though a good horseman and forward rider, he never knows one horse from another if they are anything at all alike in colour; and it is the same with dogs. If you were to put any of his own retrievers along with some others, and ask him to point out those which belonged to him, he could not do it to save his life. Two rather funny incidents happened to him from this cause, the first with a horse, and the second concerning a dog.
One season he had a particularly good-looking bay, but finding it too hot for him he determined16 to sell, and so sent it up to London to a dealer17, whom, when old Jimmy Holden had nothing that suited, he was wont18 to employ, getting a hundred guineas for it. A short time after he went to town himself, and going to the same man's yard was struck with the appearance of a good-looking bay, and bought it at a hundred and forty guineas. When the horse came down to his stables the[Pg 103] stud-groom came in and said to him: "Why, sir, you didn't tell me as how you'd bought The Prince again."
"Prince, you fool," replied the Major; "I've not bought The Prince."
But he had, and had also paid forty guineas, besides railway fares, for the animal's trip to London and back.
The other affair, though perhaps almost telling more against himself, was not so expensive. He had given his friend, Lord Acres, a black retriever with a high character and a long pedigree, and had made no little parade of the gift. A few weeks afterwards he was shooting at Home Wood (Acres' place), and the dog was out. According to his usual custom, Bowles was grumbling at everything; guns, birds, cartridges19, weather, and his servant all came in for their share. At last he pitched on the dog, and turning to his host during the process of lunch, he said: "Can't think, Acres, where you manage to pick up your dogs! Look at that mongrel brute20 there. Never[Pg 104] saw such a beast in my life. He's only fit to run behind a butcher's cart."
"Why, Major," replied his lordship, roaring with laughter, "that's looking a gift-horse in the mouth with a vengeance21. It's your own dog that you gave me."
Bowles acknowledges now that for once in his life he wishes he had not spoken.
It is a beautiful morning for hunting. The late frost—which, though it lasted but a week, was sharp—is well out of the ground, and everybody who owns anything with four legs, besides a number who are dependent on their own, have turned out with the hounds at Mickleborough Green.
The landlord of The Three Bells, that quaint22 old inn—with its remains23 of past glories, as shown by its spacious24 coach-stables—which stands back from the road facing the green, is doing a roaring trade; and Lizzie the barmaid says her "arms do just ache a-drawing the beer." The hounds gathered round old[Pg 105] Tom on the green, with pink coats dotted here and there, present as pretty a picture as one could wish to see. All are in high spirits and congratulating each other and themselves on the change in the weather and the prospects25 of a run. Chaff26 is flying thick about "the old mare's big leg," or "the lucky thing the frost was for that young horse who was pulled out on all occasions;" and old Tom comes in for his share, being told that "both the hounds and himself look as if they had been doing themselves well on those non-hunting days—waistcoat buttons a bit tight, eh Tom?" and such-like banter27.
Presently, along the road the Major appears, in company with Mr. Boulter the Secretary, and young Earnshaw, who is learning farming—by hunting four days a-week—with Mr. Noble.
"Here's Bowles," say two or three sportsmen; "he can't find much to grumble28 at to-day, anyhow."
As he rides up they greet him with a[Pg 106] hearty29 "Good-morning, Major; lovely day, isn't it?"
"Lovely day? Lovely fiddlestick!" is the reply. "Up to your neck in mud. Country so heavy you can't ride, and then of all places to pick out Mickleborough! Why, the water will be out all over the bottom. But there, it's always the same. I told Lappington he ought to meet at the Kennels30; but nobody ever listens to me."
"Well, but Bowles," interrupts the Secretary; "we met at the Kennels the last fixture32 before the frost."
"And you ought to meet the first day after. By Heavens, I'd meet every day there till the country was fit to ride," grumbles33 the Major. "Look at the hounds too. Why, Tom must have got the whole pack out, and borrowed some besides. Now I ask you, can we expect any sport with such a pack as that? 'Pon my soul the Hunt's going to the devil."
"Short of work, Major; must give 'em a[Pg 107] bit of exercise," puts in the Huntsman, as Bowles rides off to anathematise the landlord of The Three Bells, for presuming to offer him a glass of "d——d muddy home-brewed," calling, however, for a second edition of the same. By this time the Master has arrived and there is a general bustle35, a tightening36 of girths, a shortening of stirrups, and the usual preparations for a start. The word goes round that the first draw will be Mickleborough Wood, and Tom with the hounds is already on his way there before it reaches the ear of the Major, at that moment engaged in an altercation37 with his servant, who, according to Bowles, has put a wrong bridle38 on his second horse, but, according to the man himself, has only obeyed his master's instructions.
No sooner does he hear the appointed place than he gives up the bridle argument, and making his way to where the Master and others are trotting39 down the lane, commences: "You don't mean to say, Lappington, you're going to put them into the Wood? Why, we[Pg 108] shall never get away, and the rides will be impassable. My good sir, just think. Here, some of you fellows, try and persuade him, he never listens to me, nobody ever does;" adding, under his breath, "never heard such d——d folly40 in my life."
"Why, Bowles," replies Sir John, laughing, "you said a minute ago that the bottoms would be under water, and now you object to the high ground. Where would you go to, you old growler?"
"Growler be hanged: I never grumble. But it is a little bit too much, when one comes out for a day's hunting, to be turned loose into a forest of trees growing on a bog41. The man who planted Mickleborough Wood ought to have been hung," says Bowles.
What more he might have added will never be known, for at this instant a ringing view holloa is heard, and the hounds are away full cry, a fox having jumped up in a spinney on the road to the Wood.
"Just like my luck," the Major is heard[Pg 109] to ejaculate, as he puts his nag4 at the fence out of the lane. "Whenever I try and give anybody advice they tell me I am growling42. Hold up, you awkward devil," to his horse, who pecks a bit on landing. "And here have I been wasting my time teaching a pack of idiots how to hunt the country, and lost my start."
After running hard for a quarter of an hour, the hounds check in a road, half the pack having flashed over the line.
Here the Major is in his glory, and holds forth43. "What did I say this morning? If they will bring out every hound in the kennel31, how can they expect them to hunt. Look there, now; look there. What the devil's the use of taking them up the road? The fox is for'ard, I'll wager44. 'Pon my oath, I believe old Tom is getting past his work. There's that young ass34, Simms, too, messing about—always in the way. I should like to know how he finds time to hunt. Every farmer seems to be able to do everything nowadays, and[Pg 110] when they want to pay their corn-bill they cry out about the weather and ask for a reduction of rent."
"Not quite so bad as all that, Major," exclaim one or two farmers, who think it time to stick up for their characters. "Not quite so bad as all that. We likes to ride as well as anyone, and we likes to see others enjoy themselves over our land. But there, we know you don't mean it."
Just then, as if to convict the Major, Harbinger hits off the line up the road, and they are away again a cracker45, Bowles coming in for plenty of chaff about the fox being for'ard and Tom being past his work.
To give him his due, he was right when he blamed the country, for it is precious heavy, and plenty of grief is the order of the day. The scent46, too, improving, with every hundred yards, it becomes hard work to live with them. Sir John, as usual, is well up, and a few others are close in his wake, among them Bowles, whose coat, by-the-way, shows evident signs[Pg 111] of contact with mother-earth—a catastrophe47 that was brought about, he says, "by the idiotic48 way that people mend their fences, with a great rail run through them."
However, when, after an hour and ten minutes, they run to ground, even he is fain to allow that they have had a real good thing, though he qualifies the admission with a few scathing49 remarks on the slovenly50 way in which the earths are stopped: "A disgrace to the country, by Heaven!"
Riding home he asks a few men to dinner the next day at his house, amongst them Sir John Lappington and Mr. Wilson the Doctor—in case of accidents, he says. His invitation is eagerly accepted, for his dinners are proverbial and his wine undeniable. To see him at his own table you would scarcely know him again for the same man. The grumbling has all been got over before the guests arrive; and as you drive home—with that comfortable feeling of having dined well, wisely, and in pleasant company—you bear away a cheerful[Pg 112] remembrance of witty51 sayings and thorough good-fellowship, of a countenance52 beaming with fun, and stories which, if you wake in the night and think of, will cause you to laugh afresh.
Nearly all these happy feelings and memories you may safely put down to the skill of your host the Major, whose sole failing, as I have said, lies in the fact that, from habit, in the field, he has become a Grumbler53.
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1
grumbling
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| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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conspired
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| 密谋( conspire的过去式和过去分词 )； 搞阴谋； （事件等）巧合； 共同导致 | |
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infinity
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| n.无限，无穷，大量 | |
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nag
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| v.(对…)不停地唠叨；n.爱唠叨的人 | |
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corps
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| n.(通信等兵种的)部队；(同类作的)一组 | |
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magistrate
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| n.地方行政官，地方法官，治安官 | |
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aggrieved
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| adj.愤愤不平的，受委屈的；悲痛的；（在合法权利方面）受侵害的v.令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式)；令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式和过去分词) | |
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8
straightforward
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| adj.正直的，坦率的；易懂的，简单的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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magistrates
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| 地方法官，治安官( magistrate的名词复数 ) | |
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dispersed
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| adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
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inflicted
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| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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14
condemns
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| v.（通常因道义上的原因而）谴责( condemn的第三人称单数 )；宣判；宣布…不能使用；迫使…陷于不幸的境地 | |
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heartiness
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| 诚实，热心 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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dealer
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| n.商人，贩子 | |
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wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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cartridges
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| 子弹( cartridge的名词复数 )； （打印机的）墨盒； 录音带盒； （唱机的）唱头 | |
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brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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spacious
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| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
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prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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chaff
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| v.取笑，嘲笑；n.谷壳 | |
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banter
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| n.嘲弄，戏谑；v.取笑，逗弄，开玩笑 | |
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28
grumble
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| vi.抱怨；咕哝；n.抱怨，牢骚；咕哝，隆隆声 | |
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hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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30
kennels
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| n.主人外出时的小动物寄养处，养狗场；狗窝( kennel的名词复数 )；养狗场 | |
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kennel
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| n.狗舍，狗窝 | |
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fixture
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| n.固定设备；预定日期；比赛时间；定期存款 | |
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grumbles
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| 抱怨( grumble的第三人称单数 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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tightening
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| 上紧，固定，紧密 | |
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altercation
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| n.争吵，争论 | |
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38
bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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trotting
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| 小跑，急走( trot的现在分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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bog
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| n.沼泽；室...陷入泥淖 | |
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42
growling
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| n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
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43
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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44
wager
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| n.赌注；vt.押注，打赌 | |
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45
cracker
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| n.（无甜味的）薄脆饼干 | |
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46
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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catastrophe
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| n.大灾难，大祸 | |
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48
idiotic
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| adj.白痴的 | |
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49
scathing
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| adj.（言词、文章）严厉的，尖刻的；不留情的adv.严厉地，尖刻地v.伤害，损害（尤指使之枯萎）( scathe的现在分词) | |
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50
slovenly
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| adj.懒散的，不整齐的，邋遢的 | |
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51
witty
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| adj.机智的，风趣的 | |
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52
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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53
grumbler
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| 爱抱怨的人，发牢骚的人 | |
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