"Ah!" said Joe, "'ave lunch."
Mr. Lavender sighed, his hunger quarelling with his sense of duty. "I
should like to have found a farmer first," he said.
"Well, sir, I'll drive up to that clump o'beeches, and you can have a
look round for one while I get lunch ready.
"That will do admirably."
"There's just one thing, sir," said Joe, when his master was about to
start; "don't you take any house you come across for a farm. They're
mostly cottages o' gentility nowadays, in'abited by lunatics."
"I shall be very careful," said Mr. Lavender.
"This glorious land!" he thought, walking away from the beech clump,
with Blink at his heels; "how wonderful to see it being restored to its
former fertility under pressure of the war! The farmer must be a happy
man, indeed, working so nobly for his country, without thought of
his own prosperity. How flowery those beans look already!" he mused,
glancing at a field of potatoes. "Now that I am here I shall be able
to combine my work on German prisoners with an effort to stimulate food
production. Blink!" For Blink was lingering in a gateway. Moving back to
her, Mr. Lavender saw that the sagacious animal was staring through the
gate at a farmer who was standing in a field perfectly still, with his
back turned, about thirty yards away.
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