Old Tricker came to Worcestershire originally with a farmer who migrated from Suffolk, which proves him to have been a valuable man.  But he was worn out even when he first came to work for me, though as willing and industrious as ever.  My bailiff often praised him—­for his work was excellent, if somewhat slow on account of his age—­and used to tell him that “All as be the matter with you, Tricker, is that you was born too soon,” which was only too true, for he must have been the oldest man on the farm by at least twenty years.  He was a steady worker, and was often so absorbed in his job, such as hoeing, that, being, moreover, somewhat deaf, he was not aware of my approach until I was quite close.  On such occasions, with a violent start, he always said:  “My word, how you did frighten I, to be sure!  Shows I don’t look about me much, however, don’t it?”

He was fond of fairs, wakes, and “mops”—­no doubt they were reminiscent of old days, for he lived in the past—­and he would often beg a day off for such outings; he was a subject for the chaff of the other men for his gaiety when these jaunts took place.  They pretended that, as a widower for many years, it was time for him to think of another courtship.  On a festive occasion, when we were giving a dinner to all the men and their wives, great amusement was caused by crackers, which the guests, I think, had never seen before, containing paper caps and imitation jewellery; and it was a merry scene when all around the tables were decorated in the most incongruous fashion.  Old Tricker happened to become possessed of a plain gilt wedding-ring, and of course chaff was levelled at him from all sides:  “Ah, Tricker; sly dog, sly dog!” and so on.  He was greatly pleased, accepting good-naturedly the part of pantaloon of the piece; and I am sure, from his beaming smiles, he felt, for a time at least, dozens of years younger.

Years before, when still able to do a good day’s work, he walked to Ipswich to revisit his old home, a distance of about 160 miles, which he accomplished in four days, and returned in the same time.  He had been specially struck by the building of a new post-office there—­this must have been at least thirty years before the time of which I am writing.  One of my brothers who lived near Ipswich was visiting me, and I introduced him to the old man, knowing that they would have common interests.  No sooner did Tricker hear that my brother had just come from Ipswich than he inquired anxiously if the new post-office was finished.  “Oh yes, and pulled down some years ago, and a new one built!” Tricker was astonished; the years had evidently slipped by him unnoticed, and no record of dates remained in his memory.

Tricker often got a little mixed in the names of novelties or in unusual words.  I chanced to pass him one day along the road, on my omnicycle, and next time I saw him he referred to it, adding:  “I didn’t know as you’d got a phlorsopher (velocipede and philosopher)”!  Some of my land had been occupied by the Romans in very distant days, and coins and pottery were frequently found.  Tricker, having heard of the Romans, also of Roman Catholics, jumbled them together, and “reckoned” that the former inhabitants of these fields were “some of those old Romans or Cartholics.”