{NOVEL PREVIOUSLY NAMED: "PALE EYES"}
𑁍Julius Cadwell is a pauper from an impoverished village, Porlock of Somerset in England. Julius journeys to Wellington to work as a footman for the Duke of Wellington, Somerset.
♕︎Reuben Griffith is the only s...
❝He came in ruddy anger, and he flung Quick, deeply-stabbing words, nor measured wounds❞
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❝None may win by the grey stone bound To my heart of hearts with its rose and rue❞
•Ruby Archer.
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Was it not odd? And yet you did it...
Cadwell Householdꨄ︎ 30th October 1842.
Julius was grateful for his mate Wallace, and his gratitude augmented after he came to know that Wallace had been assisting his mother with household chores after he had left for Wellington. Wallace was a busy carter and also worked with a seine boat, yet he made time for Julius's family when he was not occupied. Julius's gratitude for Wallace morphed into some sort of hatred for himself. He left for Wellington for greener pastures, but with him being the man he was and thought as he did, he believed he had abandoned his family during such difficult and now dangerous times.
"How was your stay at Wellington?" Wallace asked softly with lowered head.
Wallace and Julius's backs were pressed against a brick wall at the dark back alley of his mother's kitchen. The young men stood side by side with cigar sticks hanging loosely between their lips.
"It was certainly a different scene," muttered Julius, exhaling a thick mist of smoke with a tilt of his head to glance lazily at his friend. As with any other paradox; smoking cleared the fog in his mind. "In Wellington, there is so much that occurs, so much that distracts. I missed the quiet and calm of Porlock."
"You are the only fellow I know who would complain about one of the most affluent counties in Somerset. Have you forgotten about the poverty and hardships in Porlock already?" Wallace grunted, good-humouredly.
The street was mostly empty because of the outbreak. A light smog formed over the atmosphere of the nippy night. A man and woman walked by with stamping feet and with charred rags tied across their faces. The woman tossed her head back at something the man had said and a hideous muffled laughter broke from the man's lips
Something about the sight made Julius feel uneasy.
"I have not forgotten the poverty nor the hardships of Porlock," Julius began. "Life for even the poor in Wellington is much favourable; the Duke of Wellington procure many servants, with which all his domestic workers obtain minutes intervals between duties and with whom are all well fed. They even occasionally enjoy the freedom for leisure ⏤ While men in Porlock spend countless hours working on docks or other trades in vigorous exertion for grim selfish unsypathetic men, half starving and mightily fatigued with barely any farthings not to dare talk about pennies to send back home. Many counties cannot surpass Porlock in poverty and I am aware of that. It is only that I appreciate the calm and hospitality of those of us in Porlock."
