came at last to be known throughout his own country, and
eventually everywhere, as one of the biggest cattle-breeders
in England. But he was famous in a peculiar way. Wise
breeders and buyers shook their heads and even touched their
foreheads significantly, and predicted that the squire of
Norton would finish by ruining himself. They were right, he
ruined himself; not that he was mentally weaker than those who
watched and cunningly exploited him; he was ruined because his
object was a higher one than theirs. He saw clearly that the
prize system is a vicious one and that better results may be
obtained without it. He proved this at a heavy cost by
breeding better beasts than his rivals, who were all
exhibitors and prizewinners, and who by this means got their
advertisements and secured the highest prices, while he, who
disdained prizes and looked with disgust at the overfed and
polished animals at shows, got no advertisements and was
compelled to sell at unremunerative prices. The buyers, it
may be mentioned, were always the breeders for shows, and they
made a splendid profit out of it.

He carried on the fight for a good many years, becoming more
and more involved, until his creditors took possession of the
estate, sold off the stock, let the farms, and succeeded in
finding a tenant for the furnished house. He went to a
cottage in the village and there passed his remaining years.
To the world he appeared unmoved by his reverses. The change
from mansion and park to a small thatched cottage, with a
labourer's wife for attendant, made no change in the man, nor
did he resign his seat on the Bench of Magistrates or any
other unpaid office he held. To the last he was what he had