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The Salamanca Corpus: Yeoman Fleetwood (1900 ... - Gredos

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<strong>The</strong> <strong>Salamanca</strong> <strong>Corpus</strong>: <strong>Yeoman</strong> <strong>Fleetwood</strong> (<strong>1900</strong>)<br />

He changed the subject abruptly, but Simon resumed it when he was alone with Mr.<br />

<strong>Fleetwood</strong>. As they were walking across the pasture together, after the departure of their<br />

friend, he said diffidently, —<br />

"My dear father, I cannot help feeling that Mr. Rushton is right. I wish you and my<br />

mother could be persuaded to give up the idea of sending me to college."<br />

"What," cried the yeoman, smiling good-naturedly if a little constrainedly, "tired o' the<br />

books already?"<br />

"Nay, sir, I like the books well enough, but I should have preferred to make their<br />

acquaintance in another place."<br />

"Why, I thought you were getting on first rate yonder."<br />

"I have got on tolerably well," returned the lad gravely, "but you see, sir, I am not and<br />

never shall be a gentleman. I come of yeoman stock —I am a true chip of the old block,<br />

as Mr. Rushton says, and I do not think it will ever take polish."<br />

"Aye, aye?" said the yeoman thoughtfully. "I am in my proper place here," pursued<br />

Simon.<br />

[46]<br />

“All that you do I can do, and like doing. I fancy that I could even do many things that<br />

you do not think it necessary to put your own hand to. I can drive a team —I almost<br />

imagine that I could plough a furrow.<br />

"Could you indeed, Simon?" said Mr. <strong>Fleetwood</strong>, pausing and turning so as to face him.<br />

"Aye, lad, I reckon that kind of thing runs in the blood."<br />

"I breathe freely here," cried his son eagerly. "I feel myself at ease. Do but listen to me,<br />

sir." <strong>The</strong> father had thrown his arm affectionately round his son's neck, and now tapped<br />

his shoulder lightly.<br />

"You are forgetting one thing, my lad — my promise to your mother."<br />

"I know — I have thought of it — but could you not reason with her — explain to her."<br />

"Nay, nay," returned Mr. <strong>Fleetwood</strong> gravely and gently. "<strong>The</strong>re's sense enough in what<br />

you say, but I cannot go back on my promise. First, because I have never yet broken my<br />

word to your mother, and, secondly, because I am particularly anxious to spare her all

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