Lord God Made Them All by James Herriot

Author:James Herriot [Herriot, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781453227930
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 1981-03-19T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter

20

THERE IS NOTHING VERY exciting about tuberculin testing, and I was quite pleased when George Forsyth, the insurance agent, came into the byre and started to make conversation.

I was doing the annual test on the little farm of the Hudson brothers. Clem, the elder, about forty years old, was painstakingly writing the numbers in the book, while Dick, a few years younger, was rubbing the inner surfaces of the ears to find the tattoo marks.

As I clipped, measured and injected, I listened to George’s observations on the weather, the latest cricket scores and the price of pigs. He was leaning against a wall, taking leisurely pulls at a cigarette as though he had all the time in the world, but I had a fair idea he had come along for something more than idle talk.

After a few minutes he got round to the point.

“You know, Clem,” he said, “you fellows should be properly insured.”

Clem carefully rounded off a figure in the book. “What are ye talkin’ about? We’ve got the car insured and we’re covered for fire and lightnin’. That’s enough, isn’t it?”

“Enough!” George was shocked. “That’s nothing. You should both have life policies, for a start.”

“Nay, nay.” Clem shook his head. “Don’t believe in all that. In fact, I don’t believe in insurance at all except what we’ve got to have.”

Dick raised his head from the front of the cow. “And ah don’t believe in it either. You’re wastin’ your time, George.”

“Honestly,” the agent said, “you two are living in the past. Don’t you think it would be a good thing for your dependants to have a nice sum of money in the event of your deaths?”

“Not goin’ to die for a long time yet,” Clem grunted, moving along to the next cow.

“How the heck do you know that?”

“All the Hudsons is long-lived,” Dick said. “They nearly have to shoot some of ’em. Our old dad’s over eighty, and he’s fightin’ fit. He passed the farm over to us, but ‘e could be workin’ now if he wanted.”

George tiptoed daintily to one side in his patent leather shoes as a cow raised her tail dangerously in his direction. “You don’t seem to get the point, but I won’t press the matter. However,” he raised a finger, “you should certainly have sickness policies.”

Both the brothers had a good laugh at this.

“Sickness?” Clem said, a pitying smile creasing his craggy features. “Neither of us ’ave ever ailed a thing in our lives. Never even had a cold. We ’aven’t missed a day’s work since we started on this place.”

“But how do you know that’s going to continue?” the agent replied weakly. “As you get older, you’ll be more liable to illness.”

“Oh, leave off, George.” Dick pushed his way out from between two cows. “We’ve told you—we don’t believe in insurance, and that’s all about it. And we’re not goin’ to chuck our money away on any of your fancy policies.”

George narrowed his eyes. This was a challenge, and I could see he was going to rise to it.

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