Tom had done his best, with the little capital at
his command, to maintain and improve the standard of his small herd of
cattle, and in Clover Fairy he had bred a bull which was something rather
better than any that his immediate neighbours could show. It would not
have made a sensation in the judging-ring at an important cattle show,
but it was as vigorous, shapely, and healthy a young animal as any small
practical farmer could wish to possess. At the King's Head on market
days Clover Fairy was very highly spoken of, and Yorkfield used to
declare that he would not part with him for a hundred pounds; a hundred
pounds is a lot of money in the small farming line, and probably anything
over eighty would have tempted him.
It was with some especial pleasure that Tom took advantage of one of
Laurence's rare visits to the farm to lead him down to the enclosure
where Clover Fairy kept solitary state--the grass widower of a grazing
harem. Tom felt some of his old dislike for his half-brother reviving;
the artist was becoming more languid in his manner, more unsuitably
turned-out in attire, and he seemed inclined to impart a slightly
patronising tone to his conversation.
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