Cranford

either fairly frightened to death by being the only man in the Cranford
evening parties, or he is accounted for by being with his regiment, his
ship, or closely engaged in business all the week in the great
neighbouring commercial town of Drumble, distant only twenty miles on a
railroad. In short, whatever does become of the gentlemen, they are not
at Cranford. What could they do if they were there? The surgeon has his
round of thirty miles, and sleeps at Cranford; but every man cannot be a
surgeon. For keeping the trim gardens full of choice flowers without a
weed to speck them; for frightening away little boys who look wistfully
at the said flowers through the railings; for rushing out at the geese
that occasionally venture into the gardens if the gates are left open;
for deciding all questions of literature and politics without troubling
themselves with unnecessary reasons or arguments; for obtaining clear
and correct knowledge of everybody’s affairs in the parish; for keeping
their neat maidservants in admirable order; for kindness (somewhat
dictatorial) to the poor, and real tender good offices to each other
whenever they are in distress,—the ladies of Cranford are quite