Three generations

VILLAGE ORACLES 147
fetch him covered with such a will that the horse he
rode lost every shoe from his feet on the way.
The attack was slight, and my father speedily rallied,
but he was never the same man again. He used to
say, quoting a remark of Sir Humphry Davy's, that
from that day he felt the cold touch of death upon him.
The lease of Grange Farm had nearly expired ; no
more surface damages were likely to occur ; the old
mansion-house, unless in the holidays, was a world
too large for the shrunk household. My father
resolved not to renew the lease, but to retire with
my mother to one of the better-class houses in the
village of Elie, which was sufficiently near the coal-
works to prevent any great inconvenience from the
change.
But it was not only the younger generation, some
of whom had grown up in the old house, who felt
a pang at the disruption. My father, who had begun
by disliking all that had to do with the farm, and by
finding nothing congenial in his farming neighbours,
had learned to think differently. When little more
than a raw lad he had been taken into the exceptional
society of the county town, which could be compared
in its advantages of culture and progress to Edinburgh
on a small scale. Naturally he had been fascinated
when the lines first cast for him were thrown in a
brilliantly pleasant place. When the lines were with-
drawn, and reaction, which seemed little better than
the old primitive surroundings, set in, he had recoiled
with distaste from all which was uncouth, ignorant,
and rough in the material. But he learned to admit
that he had only held part of the truth, and that
mother - wit and original shrewdness had at least
something to say for themselves in disputing for