"As far as worldly wealth goes," continued his father, "you will no
doubt stand far superior to your brothers in a few years."
This considerateness on old Mr Clare's part led Angel onward to the
other and dearer subject. He observed to his father that he was
then six-and-twenty, and that when he should start in the farming
business he would require eyes in the back of his head to see to all
matters--some one would be necessary to superintend the domestic
labours of his establishment whilst he was afield. Would it not be
well, therefore, for him to marry?
His father seemed to think this idea not unreasonable; and then Angel
put the question--
"What kind of wife do you think would be best for me as a thrifty
hard-working farmer?"
"A truly Christian woman, who will be a help and a comfort to you in
your goings-out and your comings-in. Beyond that, it really matters
little. Such an one can be found; indeed, my earnest-minded friend
and neighbour, Dr Chant--"
"But ought she not primarily to be able to milk cows, churn good
butter, make immense cheeses; know how to sit hens and turkeys and
rear chickens, to direct a field of labourers in an emergency, and
estimate the value of sheep and calves?"
"Yes; a farmer's wife; yes, certainly.
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