The Amateur Gentleman

  • The Amateur Gentleman
  • Product Code: A2-38799
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The Amateur Gentleman by Jeffery farnol 


John Barty, ex-champion of England and landlord of the "Coursing Hound," sat

screwed round in his chair with his eyes yet turned to the door that had closed

after the departing lawyer fully five minutes ago, and his eyes were wide and

blank, and his mouth (grim and close-lipped as a rule) gaped, becoming aware of

which, he closed it with a snap, and passed a great knotted fist across his brow.

"Barnabas," said he slowly, "I beant asleep an' dreaming be I,


"No, father!"

"But—seven—'undred—thousand—pound. It were seven—'undred thousand

pound, weren't it, Barnabas?"

"Yes, father!"

"Seven—'undred—thou—! No! I can't believe it, Barnabas my bye."

"Neither can I, father," said Barnabas, still staring down at the papers which

littered the table before him.

"Nor I aren't a-going to try to believe it, Barnabas."

"And yet—here it is, all written down in black and white, and you heard what

Mr. Crabtree said?"

"Ah,—I heered, but arter all Crabtree's only a lawyer—though a good un as

lawyers go, always been honest an' square wi' me—leastways I 've never caught

him trying to bamboozle John Barty yet—an' what the eye don't ob-serve the

heart don't grieve, Barnabas my bye, an' there y'are. But seven 'undred thousand

pound is coming it a bit too strong—if he'd ha' knocked off a few 'undred

thousand I could ha' took it easier Barnabas, but, as it is—no, Barnabas!"

"It's a great fortune!" said Barnabas in the same repressed tone and with his eyes

still intent.

"Fortun'," repeated the father, "fortun'—it's fetched me one in the ribs—low,

Barnabas, low!—it's took my wind an' I'm a-hanging on to the ropes, lad. Why,

Lord love me! I never thought as your uncle Tom 'ad it in him to keep hisself

from starving, let alone make a fortun'! My scapegrace brother Tom—poor Tom

as sailed away in a emigrant ship (which is a un-common bad kind of a ship to

sail in—so I've heered, Barnabas) an' now, to think as he went an' made all that

fortun'—away off in Jamaiky—out o' vegetables."

"And lucky speculation, father—!"

"Now, Barnabas," exclaimed his father, beginning to rasp his fingers to and fro

across his great, square, shaven chin, "why argufy? Your uncle Tom was a

planter—very well! Why is a man a planter—because he plants things, an' what

should a man plant but vegetables? So Barnabas, vegetables I says, an'

vegetables I abide by, now an' hereafter. Seven 'undred thousand pound all made

in Jamaiky—out o' vegetables—an' there y' are!"

Here John Barty paused and sat with his chin 'twixt finger and thumb in

expectation of his son's rejoinder, but finding him silent, he presently continued: .................  Download Now to read more about " The Amateur Gentleman" by jeffery farnol 

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