On his father's death at a very advanced age he came, a
comparative stranger, to Norton, the first half of his life
having been spent abroad. He was then a middle-aged man,
unmarried, and a bachelor he remained to the end. He was of a
reticent disposition and was said to be proud; formal, almost
cold, in manner; furthermore, he did not share his neighbours'
love of sport of any description, nor did he care for society,
and because of all this he was regarded as peculiar, not to
say eccentric. But he was deeply interested in agriculture,
especially in cattle and their improvement, and that object
grew to be his master passion. It was a period of great
depression, and as his farms fell vacant he took them into his
own hands, increased his stock and built model cowhouses, and
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.
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