Struck with the air of comfort
common among these people, and the marks of fertility and cultivation
in the country around them, Lady Mabel hoped that Moodie had at last
met with something to please him; so she asked the opinion of that
high authority on the rural prospect and the farming around them. But
he at once condemned it as unskillful, wasteful, and slovenly; in
short, just what was to be looked for in this benighted land.
"What a pity it is, Moodie, you cannot speak Portuguese," said Lady
Mabel; "you might seize many a chance of giving these benighted people
a valuable hint, particularly how to ferment their wine, and press
their olives."
"I am sure," replied Moodie, "I could make as sour wine and rancid oil
as the best of them, and they make no other."
"You are a fault-seeking traveler," said Lady Mabel; "and so will find
nothing to please you, while I enjoy all around me, and see nothing to
find fault with, except the abominable custom of the women riding
astride on their _burras_, which I am glad to see is not universal."
"Nay, my lady, the country pleases me well enough. The pasturage is
poor and parched, yet the oxen are fine in spite of their monstrous
horns; and I see corn land that might yield good oats or barley in
Scotland.
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