The Broad Highway - Page 100/374

Now as I went, pondering on true happiness, and the nature of it,

I beheld a man ploughing in a field hard by, and, as he ploughed,

he whistled lustily. And drawing near to the field, I sat down

upon a gate and watched, for there are few sights and sounds I am

fonder of than the gleam of the ploughshare and the sighing

whisper it makes as it turns the fragrant loam.

"A truly noble occupation!" said I to myself, "dignified by the

ages--ay--old, well nigh, as the green earth itself; no man need

be ashamed to guide a plough."

And indeed a fine sight it made, the straining horses, the

stalwart figure of the Ploughman, with the blue sky, the long,

brown furrows, and, away and beyond, the tender green of leaves;

while the jingle of the harness, the clear, merry, whistled

notes, and the song of a skylark, high above our heads, all

blended into a chorus it was good to hear.

As he came up to where I sat upon the gate, the Ploughman

stopped, and, wiping the glistening moisture from his brow,

nodded good-humoredly.

"A fine morning!" said I.

"So it be, sir, now you come to mention it, it do be a fine day

surely."

"You, at least seem happy," said I.

"Happy?" he exclaimed, staring.

"Yes," said I.

"Well, I bean't."

"And why not?" The Ploughman scratched his ear, and carried his

glance from my face up to the sky, and down again.

"I dunno," he answered, "but I bean't."

"Yet you whistle gayly enough."

"Why, a man must do summat."

"Then, you seem strong and healthy."

"Yes, I do be fine an' hearty."

"And sleep well?"

"Like a blessed log."

"And eat well?"

"Eat!" he exclaimed, with a mighty laugh. "Lord! I should think

so--why, I'm always eatin' or thinkin' of it. Oh, I'm a fine

eater, I am--an' I bean't no chicken at drinkin', neither."

"Then you ought to be happy."

"Ah!--but I bean't!" he repeated, shaking his head.

"Have you any troubles?"

"None as I can think on."

"You earn good money every week?"

"Ten shillin'."

"You are not married?"

"Not me."

"Then," said I, "you must be happy." The Ploughman pulled at his

ear again, looked slowly all round the field, and, finally, shook

his head.