Mr. Poskitt's Nightcaps: Stories of a Yorkshire Farmer
“ When that particular comet had come and gone Bartholomew was a sorely disappointed man; whether he really had reason to be, no one will ever know.As regards Bartholomew's status in the world, he was a smallish farmer at Orchardcroft—a middle-aged, raw-boned, hatchet-faced man, whose greatest difficulty in life was to make up his mind about anything. If an idea about sowing spring wheat or planting potatoes came into his head as he walked about his land, he would stand stock still wherever he was and scratch his ear and think and consider until his mind was in a state of chaos. ”
