Cold Comfort Farm Page #4

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talking quite so loudly, please?

Some of us are

trying to sleep.

Oh.

Ohh.

Wife, where's Elfine?

Not up yet,

I expect, Amos.

Godless habit, lyin' abed

of a workin' day.

The reekin' fires lie waiting

for them as do.

What a family

I'm cursed with.

You'll fritter and fry

in hell, the lot of you!

Meriam passed out

this morning.

Oh, bless her.

Ah. Reckon her time's

come, eh, Seth?

Robert Poste's

child here, innit she?

After your inheritance,

eh, Reuben?

Robert Poste's child.

Well, some of us

has farmin' to do.

rk, time the barren field were

gone over with a prunin'snoot.

Reuben, get plowin'

down Nettle Flitch. Seth,

you drain the well.

There's a neighbor missin'.

So you're the little lady from London...

with your

smart ways, eh?

I know your sort.

Drain away a man's blood

soon as look at him.

Seth, after you've

done the well,

you get scrattlin'

up at Ticklepenny Corner.

Come on, Miss Poste.

Adam will get you breakfast.

Is there any bread and

butter and some tea, Adam?

I don't much care

for porridge.

Bread and butter in the

crocket. Tea in the pot.

Now leave me in peace. I mun cletter

the dishes, Robert Poste's child.

That's a twig. What you want is

a nice little mop with a handle.

It would get the dishes cleaner

and be so much quicker too.

Don't want no mop with a

handle. I've clettered dishes...

with an old thorn twig

nigh on 50 year.

And what was good enough then

is good enough now, is it?

Aye.

Adam, I've been thinking

about the Starkadders' doom.

Why doesn't Cousin Amos just sell this and

buy a farm that doesn't have a curse on it?

In Berkshire or Devon, perhaps. Nay.

There's always been Starkadders

at Cold Comfort Farm.

'Tis impossible for any

of us to dream of leavin'.

Mrs. Starkadder's set on us stayin'. 'Tis her life

- the very life in her veins.

Cousin Judith, you mean? She

doesn't seem very happy here.

No, I mean the old lady,

old Mrs. Starkadder.

Is she dead?

No.

[ Laughing ]

No, miss, she's

alive right enough.

Her hand lies on us

like iron,

but she never

leaves her room,

never sees no one

but Miss Judith.

Ain't left the farm these 20 year. That be her tray

- [ Chickens Squawking ]

Oh, there she is,

my little wennit.

- Gracious. Who's that?

- That's my cowdlin'.

That's Elfine Starkadder.

Does she always charge about like that?

She's as wild and shy

as a pharisee of the woods.

Days, she's gone

wandering the downs...

with only the spyin'magpies

and little rabbits for company.

No thought for them as loved her

and cowdled her in their bosom...

when she were a mommet.

- [ Bell Ringing ]

- How trying. I'll take the tray, Adam.

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