University of Virginia Library

THE FARM HOUSE.

Beaumont and Fletcher.

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 bee-hives 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.

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 every
thing.

She received us in the main room of the house,
a kind of parlour and hall; with great brown
beams of timber across it, which 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 Tibbets' 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; every thing
was of the best materials, and in the best condition.
Nothing was out of place or ill made;
and you saw every where 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 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 every thing
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 any thing; 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 every thing 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 every thing 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 Tibbets',
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 their 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
heaven, 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 Tibbets'
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's, the stronger it grew. In the mean
time 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
wit's end. It is true 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 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 perplexed 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.