The Vicar of Bullhampton
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Trollope Anthony. The Vicar of Bullhampton
PREFACE
CHAPTER I. BULLHAMPTON
CHAPTER II. FLO'S RED BALL
CHAPTER III. SAM BRATTLE
CHAPTER IV. THERE IS NO ONE ELSE
CHAPTER V. THE MILLER
CHAPTER VI. BRATTLE'S MILL
CHAPTER VII. THE MILLER'S WIFE
CHAPTER VIII. THE LAST DAY
CHAPTER IX. MISS MARRABLE
CHAPTER X. CRUNCH'EM CAN'T BE HAD
CHAPTER XI. DON'T YOU BE AFEARD ABOUT ME
CHAPTER XII. BONE'M AND HIS MASTER
CHAPTER XIII. CAPTAIN MARRABLE AND HIS FATHER
CHAPTER XIV. COUSINHOOD
CHAPTER XV. THE POLICE AT FAULT
CHAPTER XVI. MISS LOWTHER ASKS FOR ADVICE
CHAPTER XVII. THE MARQUIS OF TROWBRIDGE
CHAPTER XVIII. BLANK PAPER
CHAPTER XIX. SAM BRATTLE RETURNS HOME
CHAPTER XX. I HAVE A JUPITER OF MY OWN NOW
CHAPTER XXI. WHAT PARSON JOHN THINKS ABOUT IT
CHAPTER XXII. WHAT THE FENWICKS THOUGHT ABOUT IT
CHAPTER XXIII. WHAT MR. GILMORE THOUGHT ABOUT IT
CHAPTER XXIV. THE REV. HENRY FITZACKERLEY CHAMBERLAINE
CHAPTER XXV. CARRY BRATTLE
CHAPTER XXVI. THE TURNOVER CORRESPONDENCE
CHAPTER XXVII "I NEVER SHAMED NONE OF THEM."
CHAPTER XXVIII. MRS. BRATTLE'S JOURNEY
CHAPTER XXIX. THE BULL AT LORING
CHAPTER XXX. THE AUNT AND THE UNCLE
CHAPTER XXXI. MARY LOWTHER FEELS HER WAY
CHAPTER XXXII. MR. GILMORE'S SUCCESS
CHAPTER XXXIII. FAREWELL
CHAPTER XXXIV. BULLHAMPTON NEWS
CHAPTER XXXV. MR. PUDDLEHAM'S NEW CHAPEL
CHAPTER XXXVI. SAM BRATTLE GOES OFF AGAIN
CHAPTER XXXVII. FEMALE MARTYRDOM
CHAPTER XXXVIII. A LOVER'S MADNESS
CHAPTER XXXIX. THE THREE HONEST MEN
CHAPTER XL. TROTTER'S BUILDINGS
CHAPTER XLI. STARTUP FARM
CHAPTER XLII. MR. QUICKENHAM, Q.C
CHAPTER XLIII. EASTER AT TURNOVER CASTLE
CHAPTER XLIV. THE MARRABLES OF DUNRIPPLE
CHAPTER XLV. WHAT SHALL I DO WITH MYSELF?
CHAPTER XLVI. MR. JAY OF WARMINSTER
CHAPTER XLVII. SAM BRATTLE IS WANTED
CHAPTER XLVIII. MARY LOWTHER RETURNS TO BULLHAMPTON
CHAPTER XLIX. MARY LOWTHER'S DOOM
CHAPTER L. MARY LOWTHER INSPECTS HER FUTURE HOME
CHAPTER LI. THE GRINDER AND HIS COMRADE
CHAPTER LII. CARRY BRATTLE'S JOURNEY
CHAPTER LIII. THE FATTED CALF
CHAPTER LIV. MR. GILMORE'S RUBIES
CHAPTER LV. GLEBE LAND
CHAPTER LVI. THE VICAR'S VENGEANCE
CHAPTER LVII. OIL IS TO BE THROWN UPON THE WATERS
CHAPTER LVIII. EDITH BROWNLOW'S DREAM
CHAPTER LIX. NEWS FROM DUNRIPPLE
CHAPTER LX. LORD ST. GEORGE IS VERY CUNNING
CHAPTER LXI. MARY LOWTHER'S TREACHERY
CHAPTER LXII. UP AT THE PRIVETS
CHAPTER LXIII. THE MILLER TELLS HIS TROUBLES
CHAPTER LXIV. IF I WERE YOUR SISTER!
CHAPTER LXV. MARY LOWTHER LEAVES BULLHAMPTON
CHAPTER LXVI. AT THE MILL
CHAPTER LXVII. SIR GREGORY MARRABLE HAS A HEADACHE
CHAPTER LXVIII. THE SQUIRE IS VERY OBSTINATE
CHAPTER LXIX. THE TRIAL
CHAPTER LXX. THE FATE OF THE PUDDLEHAMITES
CHAPTER LXXI. THE END OF MARY LOWTHER'S STORY
CHAPTER LXXII. AT TURNOVER CASTLE
CHAPTER LXXIII. CONCLUSION
Отрывок из книги
I am disposed to believe that no novel reader in England has seen the little town of Bullhampton, in Wiltshire, except such novel readers as live there, and those others, very few in number, who visit it perhaps four times a year for the purposes of trade, and who are known as commercial gentlemen. Bullhampton is seventeen miles from Salisbury, eleven from Marlborough, nine from Westbury, seven from Haylesbury, and five from the nearest railroad station, which is called Bullhampton Road, and lies on the line from Salisbury to Ycovil. It is not quite on Salisbury Plain, but probably was so once, when Salisbury Plain was wider than it is now. Whether it should be called a small town or a large village I cannot say. It has no mayor, and no market, but it has a fair. There rages a feud in Bullhampton touching this want of a market, as there are certain Bullhamptonites who aver that the charter giving all rights of a market to Bullhampton does exist; and that at one period in its history the market existed also, – for a year or two; but the three bakers and two butchers are opposed to change; and the patriots of the place, though they declaim on the matter over their evening pipes and gin-and-water, have not enough of matutinal zeal to carry out their purpose. Bullhampton is situated on a little river, which meanders through the chalky ground, and has a quiet, slow, dreamy prettiness of its own. A mile above the town, – for we will call it a town, – the stream divides itself into many streamlets, and there is a district called the Water Meads, in which bridges are more frequent than trustworthy, in which there are hundreds of little sluice-gates for regulating the irrigation, and a growth of grass which is a source of much anxiety and considerable trouble to the farmers. There is a water-mill here, too, very low, with ever a floury, mealy look, with a pasty look often, as the flour becomes damp with the spray of the water as it is thrown by the mill-wheel. It seems to be a tattered, shattered, ramshackle concern, but it has been in the same family for many years; and as the family has not hitherto been in distress, it may be supposed that the mill still affords a fair means of livelihood. The Brattles, – for Jacob Brattle is the miller's name, – have ever been known as men who paid their way, and were able to hold up their heads. But nevertheless Jacob Brattle is ever at war with his landlord in regard to repairs wanted for his mill, and Mr. Gilmore, the landlord in question, declares that he wishes that the Avon would some night run so high as to carry off the mill altogether. Bullhampton is very quiet. There is no special trade in the place. Its interests are altogether agricultural. It has no newspaper. Its tendencies are altogether conservative. It is a good deal given to religion; and the Primitive Methodists have a very strong holding there, although in all Wiltshire there is not a clergyman more popular in his own parish than the Rev. Frank Fenwick. He himself, in his inner heart, rather likes his rival, Mr. Puddleham, the dissenting minister; because Mr. Puddleham is an earnest man, who, in spite of the intensity of his ignorance, is efficacious among the poor. But Mr. Fenwick is bound to keep up the fight; and Mr. Puddleham considers it to be his duty to put down Mr. Fenwick and the Church Establishment altogether.
The men of Bullhampton, and the women also, are aware that the glory has departed from them, in that Bullhampton was once a borough, and returned two members to Parliament. No borough more close, or shall we say more rotten, ever existed. It was not that the Marquis of Trowbridge had, what has often delicately been called, an interest in it; but he held it absolutely in his breeches pocket, to do with it as he liked; and it had been the liking of the late Marquis to sell one of the seats at every election to the highest bidder on his side in politics. Nevertheless, the people of Bullhampton had gloried in being a borough, and the shame, or at least the regret of their downfall, had not yet altogether passed away when the tidings of a new Reform Bill came upon them. The people of Bullhampton are notoriously slow to learn, and slow to forget. It was told of a farmer of Bullhampton, in old days, that he asked what had become of Charles I., when told that Charles II. had been restored. Cromwell had come and gone, and had not disturbed him at Bullhampton.
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"How can I make too much of anything that regards you? You will be at home to-morrow?"
"Yes, I fancy so."
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