Mud and Gold (51 page)

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Authors: Shayne Parkinson

Tags: #family saga, #marriage, #historical fiction, #victorian, #new zealand, #farming, #nineteenth century, #farm life

BOOK: Mud and Gold
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22

 

November 1890 – January 1891

If Lizzie had thought Frank would soon
forget the idea of improving his herd, she was in for a surprise.
He read and re-read his farming magazines, and pored over all the
newspaper advertisements for stock, until he had decided how many
cows he would need to buy and from whom he should buy them.

‘There’s a bloke south of Auckland who’s
advertising cows,’ he told her one evening while Lizzie washed the
dishes. ‘They talked about him in the
Farmer
, his herd’s
meant to be really good. I think he’d be the one to buy them
off.’

‘Mmm,’ Lizzie said, scrubbing at a plate.
Frank could tell that she was only giving him a small part of her
attention.

‘I think I’d better write to him,’ he
said.

Lizzie put the plate down with a thump.
‘What did you say?’

‘This bloke with the cows—I’m going to write
to him, see if I can order some. What’s wrong?’ he asked, seeing
Lizzie’s mouth hanging open.

‘You really mean it, don’t you?’ she said,
shaking her head in disbelief. ‘You’re really going to buy those
cows.’

‘Lizzie, I’ve been talking about it for
weeks. Didn’t you believe me?’

‘I thought it was just something to talk
about. I didn’t know you really meant it. If you’re going to write
a
letter
you must be serious. You never write to
anyone.’

‘I’ve never had to before. You’ll have to
help me with the letter, see I do it right.’

‘How would I know? I’ve never written to
anyone either.’

‘That doesn’t matter, all we have to do is
tell him we want to buy some cows. Three cows and a bull, that’s
what I want. That should be enough to set up a bit of a herd—I’d
buy a dozen cows if I could, but I wouldn’t have a show of
affording that many.’

Lizzie dried her hands on her apron and sat
down beside him, a worried look on her face. ‘Frank, those cows
cost a lot, you told me that. Where on earth are you going to get
all the money?’

Frank slipped his hand over hers. ‘That’s
the hard part. You’ll have to help me with that, too.’

‘Me? I don’t know anything about money.’

He gave her a rueful grin. ‘More sums,
Lizzie. Even harder ones this time.’

 

*

 

Mr Callaghan looked mildly surprised when
Frank marched purposefully into the bank and asked for a private
word in his office, but when he heard what Frank had come about he
was openly astonished.

‘Am I understanding you properly, Frank?’ he
said when he had recovered something of his composure. ‘You want to
borrow money to buy some cows?’

‘That’s right,’ Frank said, hoping he
appeared more confident than he felt.

‘A hundred and fifty pounds—for four cows?’
Mr Callaghan’s voice cracked for a moment. ‘It seems an awful lot.
And… well, we both know you got in a bit of strife with that loan
you already have. I wouldn’t like to see that happen again.’

‘Neither would I,’ Frank said fervently.
‘This is different.’

‘Is it?’ The bank manager looked dubious.
‘You’d better explain it all to me slowly. What’s given you the
idea of buying cows?’

Frank launched into his explanation with
enthusiasm. ‘They’re special cows, these ones are. I’ve read
everything I can find about them. They produce more cream, you
see—the richest milk of any cow there is, Jerseys give.’

‘That’s interesting, but is it
important?’

‘Yes, it is. The factory doesn’t pay by how
much milk we produce, not since they started making butter instead
of cheese. They pay us for the cream. The
cream
,’ Frank
repeated. ‘The more cream I produce, the more money I make.’

‘I begin to see what you’re getting at,’ Mr
Callaghan said, a glimmer of interest in his face. ‘But these cows
are rather expensive—very expensive, judging by the amount you want
to borrow.’

‘The really good ones are,’ said Frank. ‘I
don’t want to get just any old Jerseys, I want these real pedigree
ones. I need a bull as well as some cows, then I’ll be sure to get
decent calves out of the cows I’ve already got.’

‘A hundred and fifty pounds, Frank. It’s a
good deal of money.’

‘I know. But I can pay it back, I’m sure I
can. Take a look at this.’ Frank reached into his jacket and
brought out two carefully rolled sheets of paper covered with
Lizzie’s neatest writing. He spread them out on the bank manager’s
desk, handling the pages almost reverently as he recalled the
labour that had gone into producing them. Mr Callaghan was not to
know how many rough copies, full of crossings-out and sums that
refused to add up, had gone before this impressive-looking
document.

‘We worked it all out. Look, here’s the
money for the cows up the top. And here’s what I’ll get for the
extra cream the first year—it’s not much, because I’ll only have
the three Jerseys producing. The second year’s the same—I wouldn’t
be able to pay anything back the first two years.’ He glanced at Mr
Callaghan, then went on speaking quickly so as not to give the
older man time to remonstrate.

‘But the year after that the calves from the
first three Jerseys—they’ll be in calf when I get them, and I’m
sure to get at least one heifer—will be producing, so that’s a
little bit more money, see?’ He pointed a few lines down the page.
‘I’ll be able to start paying back a bit on the loan then. And I’ll
put the bull in with my cows next year, so I’ll have a bunch of
half Jersey calves the second year. That means in four years when
that lot are producing milk I’ll be earning a lot more… let’s see,
that starts on this other page. And after that it’ll just get
better and better as there’s more and more Jersey blood in the
herd.’

Explaining the figures to Mr Callaghan had
given Frank a clear picture of Lizzie sitting at the kitchen table
painstakingly drawing up the good copy by lamplight, the tip of her
tongue poking out between her lips as she concentrated on the task.
He smiled at the memory as he sat back in his chair and looked
expectantly at Mr Callaghan. ‘What do you think?’ he asked.

Mr Callaghan’s eyebrows had risen in
surprise as Frank had begun his explanation; now he studied Frank’s
figures carefully, not speaking for some time. At last he looked up
from his desk.

‘Did you work all this out by yourself?’

‘Lizzie helped me with the sums. And she
wrote it out nice and neat, she’s got much tidier writing than me.
But us two did it by ourselves,’ Frank said proudly.

‘I’m impressed. Very impressed indeed.
You’ve obviously thought this all through most carefully. I’m not
used to seeing this amount of preparation when someone asks for a
loan.’ Mr Callaghan bent his head to scrutinise the figures once
again. ‘Hmm, no repayments for three years… it’s a long time, but…’
He looked across the desk at Frank. ‘How old are you, Frank?’

The unexpectedness of the question took
Frank aback. ‘What? I’m… um, I’m twenty-eight. Why?’

‘Twenty-eight,’ Mr Callaghan mused. ‘Your
whole life before you, eh?’

‘I’ve had quite a bit of it already,’ Frank
said, not sure just what the bank manager meant but unwilling to
have marriage and the fathering of three children ignored.

‘I think perhaps the best is yet to come,’
Mr Callaghan said with a smile. ‘Frank Kelly, if this country is
ever going to drag itself out of the slump we’ve been in for so
long, it’s going to be young men with a bit of gumption like you
who’ll do it.’

‘Does that mean…’ Frank said, hardly
allowing himself to believe it.

‘Yes, Frank. The money’s yours.’

 

*

 

‘I don’t know whether to be pleased or
annoyed,’ Lizzie said when Frank told her the news. ‘I sort of
hoped Mr Callaghan would say no—but I wanted him to say yes,
too.’

‘Be pleased,’ Frank urged her. ‘This is
really going to work out for us.’

‘But all that money, Frank. Aren’t you
worried about it?’

‘It scares the pants off me,’ Frank
admitted. ‘But it’s worth doing, I’m sure it is. I mean, Mr
Callaghan wouldn’t lend me the money if he didn’t think it was a
good idea.’

‘He doesn’t know anything about cows,
though. What say… oh, I don’t know, what say the cows don’t thrive
or something? It’d be awful to see all that money down the
drain.’

‘Don’t even think about it,’ Frank said with
a shudder. ‘I thought I might have a word with your pa before I
arrange ordering these cows, sort of run the idea past him and see
what he has to say.’

‘Hmm. I don’t think Pa will think much of
it. You know what he’s like, always so sure he’s right about
everything. He’ll go on at you about it.’

‘I know, but if I didn’t tell him he’d make
a heck of a fuss when he found out, eh? It’s better to let him know
now. Anyway, he might have some good advice.’

‘What’ll you do if he says you shouldn’t buy
them?’

Frank paused to consider. Arguing with his
father-in-law was not a prospect he relished, but his ideas for
improving the farm were more important than the risk of offending
Arthur. ‘If he’s got really good reasons why I shouldn’t buy the
cows, maybe I won’t buy them. Otherwise… well, I’ll listen to him,
then I’ll go ahead and do what I want.’

 

*

 

‘You’re going to do
what?
’ Arthur
exploded. ‘Pay a fortune for a few funny-looking cows? Frank, I’ve
stuck up for you over the years when people have said you’re a bit
dopey, but right now I’m wondering. Have you lost your senses,
boy?’

Well, they had not got off to much of a
start, Frank thought. He and Arthur had been having a pleasant
enough stroll around Frank’s paddocks with Maudie and Joey trotting
at their heels, Arthur proffering advice on improving the pasture
as they walked, until Frank had plucked up courage to raise the
subject. ‘I don’t think so. I just want—’

‘Now, I don’t mind telling you that you
weren’t much of a farmer till a couple of years ago, but you’ve got
a lot better. This place of yours isn’t too bad at all since you
woke your ideas up. As a matter of fact you’ve gone a bit silly
about it sometimes, out working after dark and all that, but I’ve
said nothing—I’m not one to interfere, you know that. But this
nonsense you’re on about now… Do you need more cows? Is that the
trouble? Frank, I’ll
give
you some cows if you need them,
you’ve only got to ask. You don’t want to go buying scrawny cows
from someone you’ve never met. They probably wouldn’t last the
season, anyway.’

‘Thanks a lot, Pa, but I don’t want more
cows—I’ve got as many as I can milk, anyway. I want better
ones.’

‘What’s wrong with my cows? I offer you some
of my cows and you tell me they’re not good enough for you!’

‘I’m really grateful, honestly I am, and
your cows are good, much better than mine. But Jerseys are better.
They give more cream.’

‘They’d have to give a hell of a lot more
cream to pay for themselves.’

‘Ooh, Grandpa,’ Maudie said, looking
wide-eyed at Arthur. ‘You said a bad word. You said
hell
,’
she said with relish.

‘Shh, Maudie, don’t give cheek,’ Frank
admonished, but Arthur patted his little granddaughter on the
head.

‘She’s all right. She’s got more sense than
some people around here,’ he said, giving Frank a stern look.

‘They
do
give a lot more cream. Me
and Lizzie worked it out, and after a few years I’ll be
getting—’

‘Lizzie?’ Arthur looked suspicious. ‘Is this
Lizzie’s idea?’

‘No, it’s mine—Lizzie thinks it’s a bit
mad,’ Frank admitted. ‘But it’s Lizzie I really want to do it for,
Pa. It’s her I want the money for.’

‘She’s not sick again, is she?’ Arthur
asked. ‘If it’s money you need, Frank, don’t be scared to ask. If
you and Lizzie are in trouble I expect you to come to me for help,
not go borrowing money for some hare-brained scheme.’

‘No, Lizzie’s not sick. But she looks so
tired sometimes. She works so hard all the time, I’d like to make
things easier for her. I want to get her nice things, too.’ Frank
had hoped Arthur might understand, but he saw only a growing
exasperation in his father-in-law’s face.

‘She’s been trying it on, has she?’ Arthur
shook his head. ‘Frank, I thought you knew how to handle Lizzie.
You’ve made a pretty good job of keeping her in line, I’ll give you
that. I didn’t think you were up to it at first, but you sorted her
out before she got out of hand.’

‘Lizzie’s all right—no, she’s great. I don’t
know what I ever did without her.’

‘Oh, she’s a good wife, I won’t dispute
that. Her ma brought her up properly, she knows how to do her work.
But remember what I told you, Frank—she likes her own way. You
settled her down back when you first got married, but it sounds to
me like it’s time you did it again if she’s trying to plague you
into buying her a lot of fancy nonsense. A belt across the backside
would do that girl no harm at all.’ Maudie gave a squeal of alarm,
but the men took no notice. ‘You mustn’t put up with nagging. You
can’t let your wife tell you what to do.’

‘She doesn’t really… not about the cows,
anyway. It’s my idea. Lizzie never asks for nice things. She
deserves them, though.’

‘You’re talking a load of rubbish, Frank.
I’m thinking of my daughter, you know. She’s the one who’ll suffer
when the mortgage men turn the lot of you off the place. Of course
I’d take you all in, but we none of us want that. See a bit of
sense, boy. Forget about those fancy cows, and next spring I’ll
give you a few decent calves if you still think you want more cows.
All right? That’s the end of it, then.’

Frank was silent for a few moments, choosing
his words with care. ‘Thanks a lot for the advice, Pa. I really
appreciate it. I’ll have a think about it.’

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