Joe Butterman and the rats

JOE BUTTERMAN was the kind of fellow that everybody respected at a distance, but nobody liked. He was a cold customer, straight as a die, mark you, honest to the last halfpenny and a good neighbour too, but cold as an east wind in March.

He was shrewd, always. He had a tractor earlier than most and made the price of it 10 times over by cutting meadows for neighbours still without one. He had about five extra blades, always as sharp as himself, and a stock of spare parts he was well able to fit himself, to avoid lost time. He also fitted the tractor with extra headlights so he could cut by night, even through the whole night sometimes, when the real madness of the haymaking season came.

He loved money, the way some men love drink or cards. They tell me he would fondle a fiver with his fingers when he was paid.