After examining the state of the affairs as narrowly as he could, Lord Anglachelm had the mortification to find that the household stock of foodstuffs was low, much lower than expected, and asked his Ambassador to replenish the larder. Bar-en-Vanimar did not run the hazard of starving, but his news had so distressed Parnard that he awakened twenty times in the night in disorder. But, at last, having resolved himself against a meatless future, and realizing that the stomachs of the House could not depend on any but himself, a discontented Ambassador betook himself to the market to satisfy his curiosity for the reason for the shortages of beef, veal and pork.
This summer, he was told, it has been dry, and bad news ever-flowing from the lands south and east; therefore, we must pay higher prices for meat, and there is nothing of prime quality to be had, and as long as present conditions prevail, the same state of things may be expected, according to the general belief. Asked if there was no remedy for these affairs, the meat merchant replied, “Oh yes, eat more vegetables.”
Nothing would induce Parnard to eat more vegetables. “What is the use of getting up early to be told to change one’s diet?” he irritably said to himself, and oblivious of the annoyed looks and the jostling carts, strolled away from the marketplace singing in a high voice,
It is more fun to play than work,
In August,
Days spent sleeping in the hay,
In August,
Though the heat is fiercer still
In August,
Ever Duty must be done,
In August,
Which we would rather shirk
In August.
All the while Parnard was thinking of the upcoming merry-making, and how the Hammers would soon gather around a long table groaning under a mountain of roasted meats, and that a banquet of paper-thin slices of cold boiled chicken on leaves of lettuce might not be succulent enough for the Feast of Ingathering, which was in a few weeks’ time. “Everyone,” thought he with a sigh, “loves to have good things furnished to them without any trouble.”
