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Economics Ethics and Power From

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Economics, Ethics and Power

Economic theory in its neoclassical form is sometimes regarded as free from values; it
is simply the theory of economic exchange. This can only hold true if we accept the
idea of “Homo Economicus” and the equilibrium economy. But in the real world,
away from neoclassical models, there is no intrinsic stability as such. Instead, stability
is created by the surrounding social, cultural and political structures. Clearly, it is
imperative that ethics features in the analysis of these economic and socio-political
structures.
Drawing on Aristotle, Kant, Hume and others, this book conceptualizes the
analysis of ethics and economic and social structures. It first considers the key
philosophical underpinnings and categories which frame the discussion of ethics
in economic theory and then considers individual ethics, social action, financial
structures and war. Throughout, ethics are examined in a multicultural context
with structural complexities, and the difficulties in finding a coherent set of ethics
which provides social cohesion and an open society are considered. A key part of
this is the comparison of two ethical principles which can be adopted by societies:
ius soli or loyalty to constitution, and ius sanguinis or loyalty to “Blood and Soil”.
The latter is argued to lead to problems of Us and the Other.
Introducing the possibility of integrating microscopic ethics into socio-political
structures and proposing the eventual existence of a global ethics, this volume is a
significant contribution to the emerging literature on economics, social structures
and ethics. It will be of particular interest to those working in business and public
administration and who have an education in socio-economic areas, but it also has
a broad appeal to students and academics in the social sciences.

Hasse Ekstedt is a Senior Researcher at the School of Public Administration at


the University of Gothenburg, Sweden.
Routledge Frontiers of Political Economy

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Resisting Financialization with Deleuze and Guattari


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Class and Property in Marx’s Economic Thought


Exploring the Basis for Capitalism
Jørgen Sandemose

Economics, Ethics and Power


From Behavioural Rules to Global Structures
Hasse Ekstedt

For a full list of titles in this series, please visit www.routledge.com/books/


series/SE0345
Economics, Ethics
and Power
From Behavioural Rules to
Global Structures

Hasse Ekstedt
First published 2019
by Routledge
2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN
and by Routledge
711 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10017
Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business
© 2019 Hasse Ekstedt
The right of Hasse Ekstedt to be identified as author of this work has been
asserted by him in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright,
Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced
or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means,
now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording,
or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in
writing from the publishers.
Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or
registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation
without intent to infringe.
British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Ekstedt, Hasse, author.
Title: Economics, ethics and power : from behavioural rules to global
structures / Hasse Ekstedt.
Description: Abingdon, Oxon; New York, NY : Routledge, 2019. | Series:
Routledge frontiers of political economy | Includes bibliographical
references and index.
Identifiers: LCCN 2018013215 (print) | LCCN 2018013627 (ebook) |
ISBN 9781315271392 (Ebook) | ISBN 9781138281028
(hardback : alk. paper)
Subjects: LCSH: Economics—Moral and ethical aspects. | Economics—
Political aspects.
Classification: LCC HB72 (ebook) | LCC HB72 .E425 2019 (print) |
DDC 174/.4—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018013215
ISBN: 978-1-138-28102-8 (hbk)
ISBN: 978-1-315-27139-2 (ebk)

Typeset in Bembo
by Apex CoVantage, LLC
Contents

List of illustrations viii


List of tables x
Acknowledgements xi

Introduction 1
Structure of the book 7

Prologue 11
Introduction 11
Economic theory 12
Neoclassical axiomatic structure 14
The axioms 14
The axioms and aggregation 17
Barter and production 17
Homo Œconomicus, rationality and equilibrium 18
Arrow’s Impossibility Theorem 20
Methodological aspects 25
Disequilibrium 28
Money 31
The fundamental contradiction intrinsic to money 36

1 Ethics in philosophy 39
The myth 39
Ethics and epistemic cycles 41
Ethics and its connotations 42
Humans as moral creatures or calculating beasts 49
Aristotle 49
Thomas Hobbes 54
Reason and passion 57
Kant 57
Hume 66
vi Contents
Moore’s paradox 72
Kant – Hume – Russell 74
The art of defining and what we perceive 76

2 Philosophy and economics of the modern world 81


The heart of the matter 81
The direction of time 83
Space-time 86
The neoclassical trap: lessons from Arrow’s paradox 95
Structures and structural compositions 97
The problem of zero 99
Negative facts 103
Conclusion 105
Appendix on space-time 106

3 Economics and ethics in economic theory:


action and remorse 111
François Villon: Poésies Diverses 111
What is ethics? What is rationality? 113
The heart of the matter 114
Rationality and causality in space-time 117
Arrow’s paradox, the market principle and public government 121
Efficiency, growth and welfare 125
Production efficiency 127
Necessity and choice possibility 132
An economic interpretation 136
Some comments of ethical character 137
“In the long run we are all dead” 139
Stability, creativity and inventions and social goals 140

4 Faith and axiomatic structures 147


“Assensus intellectus veritati” 148
Holism versus atomism 157
Hume’s and Kant’s conflicting views 163
“Beantworten der Frage: Was ist Aufklärung?” 165
“Thou shalt . . .” versus “Thou shalt not . . .” 169
Utopias: dictatorship and/or evolution 170
Arrow’s paradox once again 174

5 Collective ethics and forms of government/governance 177


Retirement of Diocletian at Salona, as told by Edward Gibbon 177
Collective and private conceptualization and interpretation 179
Contents vii
Collective decisions – cultural and social homogeneity – knowledge 184
Forms of government 190
Alienation – anomie – anonymity 195

6 Money, financial structures and ethics 206


“Pecunia non olet” 206
Neoclassical theory, money and structures 210
Financial system: necessity, structure and output 214
Money 218
The structural changes of the financial market 224
Securitizing, uncertainty and trust 227

7 The Other and collective social action 232


Listen to the truth and grow up 232
Introduction 232
Collective ethics, the nation and Fides Punica 234
Ethnicity: racism and “untermenschen” 237
Blood and Soil versus social engineering 239
The dark shadows of the 20th century Swedish debate of racial hygiene 242
#MeToo 245
Power, loyalty and responsibility 247
Ethics, the state and the market 251
The breakdown of nations? 254

8 War 261
Introduction 261
Breakdown of ethics 263
The lessons from Clausewitz 265
Two examples from Sweden 268
Four generations of war 269
Is there a fifth generation of warfare? 270

Conclusions and epilogue 273


Conclusions 273
Epilogue 275

Bibliography 277
Index 282
Illustrations

Figures
P.1 A sketch of the proof of the existence of general equilibrium 15
P.2 Additive aggregation 21
P.3 Mathematics and causality 26
P.4 Epistemic cycle 29
1.1 Mixture of perspectives 62
2.1 Epistemic cycle 83
2.2 Space-time 88
2.3 A space-time illustration 92
2.4 Reduction of dimensions 99
2.5 Potentiality of dimensions 100
2.6 Relation between commodities and utilities 105
3.1 Development of structural unemployment 129
3.2 Lexicographic preferences 135
3.3 Illustration of the entropy principle 143
4.1 A coastline map 161
5.1 Daily average costs for hip operations 180
5.2 The complexification of society 189
6.1 Price of liquidity 215
6.2 Investment horizons, discount rates and expected rates of return 217
6.3 Monetarism/Currency School 225
6.4 Securitization system 225

Pictures
4.1 Bathos – Logos – Pathos 149
4.2 The beach 161
4.3 The non-beach 162
5.1 Volenti nil impossibile 181
5.2 Podestas iudicialis 194
Illustrations ix
Diagrams
A.1 The general space-time situation 106
A.2 Distinction between spatial distance and time distance 107
A.3 Illustration of distortion of mass 108
Tables

P.1 The neoclassical axioms of Arrow/Debreu 15


2.1 Derivation – integration 82
3.1 Reasons for not expanding the company 130
3.2 The development of Volvo 131
5.1 Consumption effects by income and education 188
5.2 Summarizing notations in public registers for the
A and C groups 202
Acknowledgements

Much of this book has its origin in more general conversations about recent
problems that have had a large impact on the world. It has not so much been a
matter of seminars and that kind of activities; it has more been quiet talks over
a glass of wine. Of course, I must as in earlier books pay my deep respect to my
teacher and very good friend, the late Professor Lars Westberg. He was never
under the illusion that the social sciences could be separated more than occa-
sionally, and he realized also that human beings are part of physics; so, as does
Aristotle, he could write both of physics and the soul.
In Lund I had a very inspiring conversation with Professor Johan Asplund
quite some years ago, but together with his writings, it has meant much to me.
I am also very grateful to Professor Björn Rombach, at the School of Public
Administration, for good discussions on Kant in general and particularly Kant’s
paper “Beantworten der Frage: Was ist Aufklärung?”, which appears in Chapter 4.
Since I read the German original, I discovered differences in different English
translations. Björn, who is bilingual in Swedish and German, helped me solve
the linguistic fox traps.
I also participate every year in the International Conference on Developments
in Economic Theory and Policy in Bilbao, Spain. These conferences are excel-
lent with respect to both intellectual standards and social standards. There is a
conscious ambition among the organizing group to contrast perspectives and to
introduce new ones. I have presented some parts of this book in the two latest
conferences and received very fruitful discussions and good suggestions.
Most important, however, has been my family. In particular, I have discussed
many things in this book with my daughter, Dr. Anna Ekstedt, who works as
a psychiatrist for children and adolescents, and we have had many discussions
about the problem of intellect and emotion and to what extent humans are
rational. She has provided me with background material of great value.
Most of all, my beloved wife, Barbro Ekstedt, former interpreter at the Euro-
pean Council, has supported me by reading outlines of ideas, checking my logic
as well as my language, and helping me in conceptualizations of aspects which
have been strange.
Introduction

“What is truth?”1
“What then is truth?” – From Pilate came the question:
Echo replied: From those sealed lips came forth
No word; but with the answer to the Riddle
The Nazarene went down beneath the earth.
But, God be praised, we have with us professors
To whom all knowledge of the truth is clear;
Legion their name – so many are their answers
Have reached by now the doubting Roman’s ear.
Strange, though, that Truth, the one and undivided,
So marvellously doth vary hue and shape,
That what is truth in Berlin or in Jena
at Heidelberg is but an idle jape.
It reminds me of Prince Hamlet and Polonious,
And that chameleon cloud – you know the tale;
“Do you see yonder cloud so like a weasel?
– So like a camel? – Very like a whale!”

It is 20 December 2017. I am looking out of the window; the day is indeed


gloomy. I happened to read during my morning coffee an article from The
Guardian a couple of days ago (Sunday, the 17th), which I saved. It was about the
linguistic cleaning in the US health system ordered by the current president of
the USA. The Guardian referred to a report published in The Washington Post on
the 15th. The top leaders of the US public health agency, the Centers for Disease
Control and Prevention, were told not to use seven specific English words in
public documents: diversity, entitlement, fetus, transgender, vulnerable, evidence-based,
and science-based. After I read the article, the day turned definitively and most
probably irrevocably gloomy.
I went to my bookshelf and looked for a book written by Victor Klemperer
in 1946. It was first published in 1957, under the title Lingua Tertii Imperii: A
Philologist Notebook, and was translated to English in 2000, with the title The
Language of the Third Reich.
2 Introduction
I read in the introduction (p. 2):

And this too will be the fate of that most serious and decisive of words of
our own epoch of transition: one day the word Entnazifizierung will have
faded away because the situation it was intended to end will no longer exist.
But that won’t be for some time yet, because it isn’t only Nazi actions
that have to vanish, but also the Nazi cast of mind, the typical Nazi way of
thinking and its breeding ground: the language of Nazism.

A bit further in the book (pp. 13–14), Klemperer discusses Nazi propaganda
and the powerful speeches of Hitler and Goebbels and their influence, but he
concludes:

No, the most powerful influence was exerted neither by individual speeches
nor by articles and flyers, posters and flags; it was not achieved by things
which one had to absorb by conscious thought or conscious emotions.
Instead Nazism permeated the flesh and blood of the people through
single words, idioms and sentence structures which were imposed on them
in a million repetitions and taken on board mechanically and unconsciously.
...
But language does not simply write and think for me, it also increasingly
dictates my feelings and governs my entire spiritual being the more unques-
tioningly and unconsciously I abandon myself to it. And what happens if
the cultivated language is made up of poisonous elements or has been made
the bearer of poisons?

Thus, when the central power starts to change the language either by preferring
words or abandoning words, we can draw two conclusions: first, that the central
power is in for a very deep-going structural change of the ruling culture, and
second, that the systematic changing of words is not an occasional whim but a
thoroughly premeditated action.
This is a book on ethics in relation to individuals and macroscopic struc-
tures, so why bother about language? Why not tell how to behave as an ethical
creature? There is a huge variety of courses and consultants to explain how to
apply ethics to different areas. Many of them are probably valuable and some
are probably of less value. We have, however, no intention to discuss practical
applications of a concept called ethics, which appears to be a basic concept to
social life and consequently of the highest possible complexity. Aristotle treats
it as a basic tool to reach the highest good for the individual as for the society.
A course on ethics may need to be lifelong in order to cover some of the more
essential aspects of ethics.
Thus, ethics concerns every single aspect of human life, both for individuals
and for social creatures affecting the collective structures. It is not something
we learn but something we live. Therefore, we also have to analyze different
structures affecting our lives and setting the boundaries of our behaviour. It also
Introduction 3
concerns the difficult question of how the interrelation between microscopic
levels and macroscopic structures are created and developed. Since language is
the prime means of communication among individuals and between individuals
and collective bodies, language is certainly as important from an ethical point of
view as actions. But what happens, then, with the freedom to express oneself in
a democracy? Another good question is from the poem by Gustav Fröding that
began this introduction: What is Truth? If we should have some sort of ethical
standard, it is indeed practical to ask that question.
Currently we are in the middle of the worldwide #MeToo movement against
sexual harassment, which has had a particular impact in Western Europe and the
USA. The movement started in the US with the revelation that a powerful film
producer was using his power to force women to submit to his sexual desires. In
Sweden it has had an enormous effect and shaken the most prestigious institu-
tion in the country, the Swedish Academy, which selects the Laureates for the
Nobel Prize in Literature. The #MeToo movement has not only shaken society
with respect to sexual harassment; it has also been enlarged to other kinds of
abuse of formal power in order to force other people to submit to private plea-
sures or inappropriate professional behaviour. From an ethical point of view, the
campaign should be unnecessary, since the behaviour it focuses on is not any
form of acceptable behaviour in Europe or the USA. That also explains why
the effects have become so strong, why people in powerful positions in each
society have resigned and some organizations have run into a state of confusion
regarding what is going on. The campaign has occurred within ethical areas
where codes of behaviour have been pretty clear and consequently the breaking
of these codes are regarded as completely inappropriate by most people brought
up in Western civilization.
The ethics of a society are a mixture of explicit and implicit rules of behav-
iour. Aristotle defined ethics as a form of tool to achieve the highest good, since
no individual in a society can achieve the highest good for himself without the
assistance of other members of the society. This implies that human beings are
not to be regarded as independent atoms, which is at variance with the neoclas-
sical foundations of economic theory; rather, they need collectively accepted
rules of behaviour, some codified and some implicit, both belonging to an ethical
superstructure which is an integral part of culturally dependent socialization.
In this book, we will not analyze the different contents of ethical systems
but rather discuss the structures and particularly structural conflicts intrinsic to
any form of ethical system or between different forms of ethical systems. An
example of intrinsic conflicts are the two bases of any ethical system, the prin-
ciple of “thou shalt” and “thou shalt not”, where we will have conflicts between
doing good to other people even if we break the law. This was actually raised to
the highest level during the Nuremberg trials after WWII, when people were
sentenced to death because they obeyed the explicit and/or implicit wishes of
Hitler. Their defence was that if they had not obeyed, they would have been
killed, but that was not a relevant enough defence. We have many examples of
clashes between conscious human considerations and explicit law. Later in the
4 Introduction
book, we will discuss two important events: Kant’s small paper from 1784 on
“Beantworten der Frage: Was ist Aufklärung?”, and Herodotus’ summary of a dis-
cussion of different forms of government from 486 BC, which exactly analyze
this problem from different views.
With respect to clashes between ethical systems, we will discuss the classical
problem of Fides Punica initiated by Romans, first in relation to Carthage, then
to all societies not aligning to the principles of Roman culture and laws. This
is the problem of the Other and is of utmost importance in a globalized world.
Two fundamental concepts with respect to ethics are power and war. The
power structure of a society fundamentally affects the ethical structure, and
consequently, we have the problem of how to judge between ethical approaches
or systems. The American political scientist Robert Kaplan wrote a book on
intrinsic ethics and ethics towards the environment, where the survival of the
intrinsic ethics of a society, in his case the USA, considered a pagan ethos suit-
able in relation to the rest of the world necessary. We will compare and partly
contrast this view with the approach by Carl von Clausewitz with respect to
war as the continuation of politics by other means. War is the ultimate violence
between two countries, but what happens if the concept of a nation loses its rel-
evance and is replaced by other lines of demarcation? Clausewitz presumed that
the continuation of politics into war by other means was followed by a reversal
movement back to politics. Will such reversibility be possible?
From a scientific point of view, we may ask if it is possible to give a precise
definition of the concept of ethics. Unfortunately, we have to answer: prob-
ably not.
That is due to the intrinsic contradictions of the concept which are implicit
in the distinction between the principles “thou shalt” and “thou shalt not”.
However, not to be totally bewildered, we can continue Aristotle’s thoughts
on humans as subjects and local and temporal final causes: A necessary, but most
probably not a sufficient, condition for an ethical principle is that all humans must be
regarded as subjects and thus a final cause.
Consequently, we expect as human beings that our free will is somehow
recognized.
For those who have the opinion that free will does not exist, I would expect
a refutation of our basic principle without assuming that any human being has
better contacts with some sort of god than other human beings do. Or, to use
George Orwell’s words in Animal Farm: “All animals are equal, but some animals
are more equal than others”. Thus ethics as well as causality, alluding to Hume’s
distinctions, contradicts determinism, the need for ethical behaviour to appear
as some form of ordering life in an uncertain environment, where the human
being is the main source of uncertainty. It is, given that the humans are subjects
and thus final causes.
Although the general principle is probably incomplete, since it is basically an
abstract formulation of a part of “thou shalt not”, it is of such a generality that
it comprises both physical and mental assault, which should ideally be regarded
as equally serious.
16 Prologue
can use as representatives real numbers. From a mathematical point of view this is
of outmost importance. However, when we are outside the realm of the axiomatic
structure, concerning the character of the agents, we also leave the possibility of
representing the economic goods and agents as real numbers. That is why we
can say that if we are in general equilibrium, we are in a separate universe which
has no neighbourhood. Thus if we are thrown out of general equilibrium, we
implicitly say that we are in a space where we cannot represent goods and agents
by numbers; consequently there most probably does not exist a general theory
of disequilibrium, as opposed to general equilibrium in the neoclassical sense.
The first three axioms, which by all means are said to define rationality, which
is true in a very limited meaning, define an equivalence relation, together with
the presumption of symmetry: A = B ⇒ B = A. The equivalence relation implies
that if we have two sets X and Y, then to each Xi there exists one and only one Yj.
Thus:

P1: Let X represent a preference set and Y a choice set. We can then define a
function P on X and a function C on Y such that for any two x: xi P xj,
there exist two y: yk C yl.
P2: If now the preference set and the choice set are defined on the same
set X of elements, we will have a preference relation between two ele-
ments: xi P xj ⇔ xi C xj.

In Figure P.1 we sketch the skeleton of the proof of the existence of general equi-
librium. It is important to note that the fundamental mathematical issue underlying
the proof is to show that both the preference space and the choice space belong to
the same Euclidian space. That means that some of the axioms may look redundant
from an economic point of view, as Hausman (2012:13, footnote 1) writes:

Reflexivity is trivial and arguably a consequence of completeness, whereas


continuity, which is automatically satisfied for any finite set of alternatives,
is needed to prove that preferences can be represented by a continuous util-
ity function.

The point, however, is that the proof of general equilibrium is purely mathemati-
cal and that none of the axioms are redundant.
The last three axioms imply together with the equivalence relation that we
define an ordered Euclidian (Cartesian) space.
Important correlates to this exercise are:

Corr. 1: P2 is independent of any xk in X where k ≠ xi and k ≠ xj.

This correlate is called Independence of Irrelevant Alternatives.

Corr. 2: For any i and j for a preference function Pa and a choice function
Ca holds that xi Pa xj ⇒ xi Ca xj and conversely xi Ca xj ⇒ xi Pa xj.
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The Project Gutenberg eBook of A little gipsy lass
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you are located before using this eBook.

Title: A little gipsy lass


A story of moorland and wild

Author: Gordon Stables

Illustrator: W. Rainey

Release date: September 29, 2023 [eBook #71755]

Language: English

Original publication: Edinburgh: W. & R. Chambers, Limited, 1907

Credits: Al Haines, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed


Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A LITTLE


GIPSY LASS ***
The girl simply lifted the latch and entered without ceremony.
LASS. Page 20.

A Little Gipsy Lass


A STORY OF MOORLAND AND WILD

By

GORDON-STABLES, M.D., C.M., R.N.


Author of
'Peggy M'Queen,' 'The Rover Caravan,' &c.

WITH SIX ILLUSTRATIONS

by

William Rainey

LONDON: 47 Paternoster Row


W. & R. CHAMBERS, LIMITED
EDINBURGH: 47 Paternoster Row
1907

Edinburgh:
Printed by W. & R. Chambers, Limited.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
I. LOTTY LEE 1
II. HOW ANTONY HAPPENED TO BE THERE 11
III. IN GIPSY CAMP AND CARAVAN 18
IV. 'EVER BEEN AN INFANT PRODIGY?' SAID LOTTY 34
V. THE QUEEREST SHOW.—A DAY IN THE WILDS 47
'THERE IS THAT IN YOUR EYE WHICH CRONA
VI. LOVES' 59
VII. POOR ANTONY WAS DROWNING! 69
VIII. THE MYSTERY OF THE MERMAN 79
IX. 'THE NEW JENNY WREN' 90
X. A LETTER AND A PROPOSAL 99
XI. BLOWN OUT TO SEA 111
XII. 'OUT YONDER, ON THE LEE BOW, SIR' 121
XIII. ON BOARD THE 'NOR'LAN' STAR' 132
XIV. A LITTLE STRANGER COMES ON BOARD 142
XV. 'I WANT TO DREAM THAT DREAM AGAIN' 154
XVI. SAFELY BACK TO ENGLAND 163
XVII. LIFE ON THE ROAD IN THE 'GIPSY QUEEN' 172
XVIII. SNOW-BOUND IN A MOUNTAIN-LAND 182
XIX. SPORTING-TIME IN WOODS AND WILDS 193
XX. IN THE DARK O' THE NEAP 204
XXI. THE WRECK OF THE 'CUMBERLAND' 214
XXII. THE AMBITIONS OF CHOPS JUNIOR 226
XXIII. 'WELL, CHOPS, TO RUN AWAY' 236
XXIV. 'I SAVED IT UP FOR A RAINY DAY' 248
XXV. 'WE'VE GOT A LITTLE STOWAWAY HERE, GUARD' 260
XXVI. THAT CROOKED SIXPENCE 272
XXVII. 'GAZE ON THOSE SUMMER WOODS' 283
XXVIII. 'HO, HO, HO! SET HIM UP' 290
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
The girl simply lifted the latch and entered without ceremony Frontispiece.
Then that huge brown bear began to dance 50
He found himself in the water next moment ... with the Jenny
Wren on her side 71
And they had special tit-bits which they took from her hands 92
Presently the black hull of the bark was looming within fifty
yards over her 129
'Father, father,' she cried, 'I cannot, will not do this' 224
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W. & R. Chambers, Limited, London and Edinburgh.

A Little Gipsy Lass.


CHAPTER I.

LOTTY LEE.

T HE young man stood on the deserted platform of the small, north-


country station, just where the train had left him, on that bright August
evening. Yonder she was speeding east-wards against the breeze.
Against the breeze, and along towards the cliffs that o'erhung the wild,
wide sea, the end of the last carriage gilded with the rays of the setting sun,
the smoke streaming backwards and losing itself over the brown-green
woods that stretched away and away till lost in a haze at the foot of the
hills.
He hailed a solitary porter.
'This isn't a very inviting station of yours, Tom, is it?'
'An awful good guess at my name, sir,' said the man, saluting.
'Your name is Tom, then?'
'No, sir—George,' he smiled. 'But any name does; and as for the station,
weel, it's good enough in its way. We only tak' up or pit doon by signal. But
you'll be English, sir?'
'That's it, George; that's just it. I'm only English. But, so far, I am in luck;
because I understand your talk, and I thought everybody here ran about raw,
with kilts on and speaking in Scotch.'
'So they do, sir, mostly; but I've been far south myself. No, sir, no left-
luggage room here; but if you're going to the inn I'll carry your
portmanteau, though ye'll no' find much accommodation there for a
gentleman like yourself. Besides, it's the nicht of the fair, and they'll be
dancin' and singin' in the road till midnicht.'
'But,' said the stranger, 'I'm bound for Loggiemouth, if I can only find the
way. I'm going to a gipsy encampment there—Nat Lee's or Biffins'. You
know Nat Lee?'
'Well, and curly-headed Lotty too. But, man, you'll have ill findin' your
road over the moor the nicht. It's three good Scotch miles, and your
portmanteau's no' a small weight—a hundred and twenty pounds if an
ounce.'
This young man, with the sunny hair, square shoulders, and bravely
chiselled English face, seized the bag with his left hand and held it high
above his head, much to the admiration of the honest porter.
'You're a fine lad, sir,' said the latter. 'An English athlete, no doubt. Weel,
we all love strength hereabouts, and Loggiemouth itself can boast of bonny
men.'
'Here!' cried the stranger abruptly, as he looked to the west and the sun
that was sinking like a great blood-orange in the purple mist of the
woodlands, 'take that portmanteau, George, in your own charge. I suppose
you live somewhere?'
'I'll lock it up in the lamp-room, sir. It'll be safe enough there.'
'Well, thanks; and to-morrow I'll either stride over for it myself or send
some one. Now, you'll direct me to the camp, won't you?'
'Ay, ay, sir, and you've a good stick and a stout heart, so nothing can
come o'er ye. But what way did nobody meet you, sir?'
'Nat Lee said he would send some one, but—hallo! who is this?'
She ran along the platform hurriedly but smiling—a little nervously
perhaps, blinking somewhat moreover, for the sun's last beams lit up her
face and eke her yellow hair. Her colour seemed to rise as she advanced.
Blushing? No. Lotty Lee was barely twelve.
'Oh, please, sir, are you Mr Blake?'
'I am. And you?'
'Me? I'm only Lotty Lee, and that's nobody. But father sent me to meet
you, and lead you home to our pitch across the Whinny Moor. You couldn't
find the way by yourself, never, never, never!'
'Good-night, sir.—Good-night, Miss Lotty,' cried the porter, throwing the
portmanteau on his shoulder and marching off with it.
'Well,' said the young fellow, 'I have a sweet little guide anyhow; but are
you sure that even you can find the way yourself, Lotty?'
'Oh yes, Mr Blake, please.'
Hers was a light, musical, almost bird-like laugh.
She tossed back her head a little, and all those impossible little crumply
curls caught by the evening breeze went dancing round her brow and ears.
'If you have any—any big thing, I will carry it for you, sir.'
It was his turn to laugh now. 'Why, Lotty,' he said, 'I shouldn't wonder if
I had to carry you before we get to camp.'
'Come,' she answered, with an uneasy glance at the west. She took his
hand as if he'd been a blind man. 'Father said I was to lead you, sir.'
'But I don't think he meant it in so literal a sense, Lotty. I think I can see
for quite half an hour yet.'
He kept that warm hand in his, nevertheless. So on they went, chatting
together gaily enough now, for she did not seem a bit afraid of her tall
companion.
'I would have been here much sooner, you know, but Wallace followed
me. Wallace is a very naughty boy sometimes, and father doesn't like him to
be out of camp at nights.'
'And where is the young gentleman now?'
'Oh, I had to take him back, and that is what kept me.'
It was getting early dark to-night, and one great star was already out in
the east. Whinny Moor was beginning to look eerisome enough. The
patches of furze that everywhere hugged the ground were like moving
shapes of strange and uncanny antediluvian monsters, and here and there
stood up the dark spectre of a stunted hawthorn-tree waving black arms in
the wind as if to forbid their approach.
Sometimes they had to creep quite sideways through the bushes of
sturdy whins and bramble; sometimes the moor was more open, and here
and there were little lakes or sedgy ponds of silver sheen, where black
things swam or glided in and out among the rustling rushes. Flitter-mice
darted over their heads or even between them, and from the forest now and
then came the doleful cry of the great barn-owl.
'On the whole,' said young Blake, 'I'm glad you came, Lotty. I doubt if
ever I could have made my way across this moor.'
'Nor through the forest yonder. Ah! the forest is much worse, Mr Blake.'
'Dark and dismal, I suppose?'
'It is dark; I don't know about dismal, Mr Blake. But I know all the road
through this moor; because when things come to the station father often
sends me for them.'
'At night?'
'Oh yes, often at night. Only, there is a little winding path through among
the pine-trees, and one day Chops went in daylight and marked all the trees
in white paint for me. But father thrashed him for it, because white paint is
one of the show properties, and we mustn't waste the properties. But I cried
for Chops.'
'And who is Chops, Lotty?'
'Oh, Chops is the fat boy; he is a property himself, but nobody could
waste him.'
'No?'
'No; and Chops is fifteen, you know, and so good and so fond of me; but
he is so fat that he can't look at you, only just blinks over his cheeks. But
Chops is so kind to me—quite loves me. And so does Wallace. But I love
Wallace better than anybody else, and everybody else loves Wallace.'
'And Wallace and everybody love Lotty, I'm sure of that.'
'Oh, Wallace loves me, and would die for me any day. But, of course,
everybody doesn't. I'm only just a property, you know.'
'But your father and mother?'
Frank Antony Blake felt the small, soft hand tremble in his.
'There is no mother, sir. Never was a mother in my time. But father'——
The child was crying—yes, and sobbing—as if her heart would break.
Then, though Frank Antony was tall and strong for his eighteen years, he
didn't really know what to do with a girl who burst into tears at night on a
lonesome moor. He could remember no precedent. It mightn't be correct, he
thought, to take her in his arms and kiss her and try to soothe her, so he
merely said, 'Never mind, Lotty; never mind. It is sure to come all right
somehow.'
For the life of him, however, he couldn't have told you what was wrong
or what there was to come right. In the fast-waning light Lotty looked up at
him ever so sadly, and he could not help noticing now what he had not
noticed before—Lotty was really a beautiful child.
'You talked to me so kindly like,' she said, 'and hardly anybody does that,
and—and that was it. Don't talk to me kindly again, sir, ever, ever, ever!'
He patted her hand.
'That's worse,' said Lotty, feeling she wanted to cry again, and she drew
the hand away. 'You'll have me crying again. Speak gruff to me, as others
do, and call me "Lot!"'
But at that moment Antony had a happy inspiration. He remembered that
in his big coat-pocket he had a large box of assorted chocolates, and here
close by on a bare part of the moor was a big white stone.
'Come,' he cried, 'there is no great hurry, and I'm going to have some
chocolates. Won't you, Lot?'
Down he sat on the big white stone, and Lotty stood timidly in front of
him. But Antony would not have this arrangement, so he lifted her bodily
up—'how strong he is!' she thought—and seated her beside him, then threw
a big handful of the delicious sweets into her lap.
She was smiling now. She was happy again. It was not the chocolates
that worked the change; but the chance companionship of this youth of
gentle blood, so high above her, seemed to have wakened a chord long, long
untouched in that little harp of a heart of hers.
Was it but a dream, or had there been once a time, long—ever so long—
ago, when voices quite as pleasant and musical and refined as Antony's
were not strange to her? And had she not, when young—she was twelve
now, and that is so old—lived in a real house, with bright cushions on real
sofas, and lamps and mirrors and flowers everywhere? No, that must have
been a dream; but it was one she often dreamt while she swung by night in
her cot, as the winds rocked the caravan and lulled her to sleep.
The autumn evening was very beautiful now; bright stars were shining
so closely overhead that it seemed as if one could almost touch them with a
fishing-rod. Besides, a big, nearly round moon had managed to scramble up
behind the bank of blue clouds in the east—a big, fat face of a moon that
appeared to be bursting with half-concealed merriment as it blinked across
the moor.
It wasn't the lollies that had enabled Lotty to regain her good spirits; but
she felt quietly happy sitting here on the stone beside this newly found
friend. Oh yes, he was going to be a friend; she felt certain of that already.
Young though Lottie was, she had a woman's instinct. Perhaps she
possessed a woman's pride as well, though only in embryo; for she felt half-
ashamed of her awkward, bare brown legs that ended not in shoes but rough
sandals, and of the pretty necklace of crimson hips and haws that she had
strung for herself only yesterday.
They had been sitting in silence for some time, both thinking, I suppose,
when Lotty's keen ear caught the weary call of some benighted plover.
'They'll soon be away now!' she sighed, more to herself than to her
companion.
'What will soon be away, Lotty?'
'Oh, the plovers and the swallows and the greenfinches, and nearly all
my pretty pets of springtime, and we'll have only just the rooks and the
gulls left.'
Antony laid his hand on hers.
'Lotty loves the wild birds, then?'
'I—I suppose so. Doesn't everybody? I wish I could go south with the
birds in autumn, to lands where the flowers are always blooming.'
'Who knows what is before you, child!'
The child interested him.
'Look, Lotty, look!' cried Antony next moment; 'what on earth can that
be?'
He was genuinely startled. About two hundred yards from the place
where they sat a great ball of crimson-yellow fire, as big as a gipsy pot, rose
slowly, waveringly, into the air. It was followed by five others, each one
smaller than the one above it. They switched themselves towards the forest,
and one by one they went out.
'It is only will-o'-the-wisps,' said Lotty, 'and they always bring good
luck. Aren't you glad?'
'Very,' said Antony.
Then, hand in hand, as if very old acquaintances indeed, they resumed
their journey. And, as they got nearer and nearer to the forest, the tall pine-
trees, with brown, pillar-like limbs, grew higher and higher, and finally
swallowed them up.
CHAPTER II.

HOW ANTONY HAPPENED TO BE THERE.

A NTONY BLAKE—or Frank Antony Blake, to give him the benefit of


his full tally—was the only son and heir-apparent of Squire Blake of
Manby Hall, a fine old mansion away down in Devonshire; thousands
of acres of land—no one seemed to know how many—rolling fields of
meadow-lands divided by hedgerows and waving grain, woods and wolds,
lakes and streams, and an upland of heath and fern that lost itself far away
on the nor'-western horizon.
The mansion itself, situated on a green eminence in the midst of the
well-treed old park, was one of the stately homes of England; and though
antique enough to be almost grim—as if holding in its dark interior the
secrets of a gloomy or mayhap tragic past—it was cheerful enough in
summer or winter; and from its big lodge-gates, all along its gravelled
avenues, the wheel-marks bore evidence that Manby Hall was by no means
deserted nor the squire very much of a recluse.
The gardens of this mansion were large enough to lose one's self in,
silent save for the song of birds, with broad green walks, with bush and tree
and flower, and fountains playing in the centre of ponds only and solely for
the sake of the waterfowl or the gold and silver fish that hid themselves
from the sunshine beneath the green, shimmering leaves of lordly floating
lilies, orange and white.
A rural paradise was Manby Hall. Acres of glass too, a regiment of semi-
silent gardeners, and a mileage of strong old walls around that were gay in
springtime and summer with creeping, climbing, trailing flowers of every
shape and shade.
If there was a single grim room in all this abode it was the library, where
from tawny, leather-bound shelves the mighty tomes of authors long dead
and gone frowned down on one, as one entered through the heavily draped
doorways.
Whisper it! But Antony was really irreverent enough to say one day to a
friend of his that this solemn and classic library was a jolly good billiard-
room spoiled.
Anyhow, it was in this room that Frank Antony found himself one
morning. He had been summoned hither by his father.
The squire was verging on fifty, healthy and hard in face, handsome
rather, with hair fast ripening into gray.
'Ha, Frank, my boy! come forward. You may be seated.'
'Rather stand, dad. Guess it's nothing too pleasant.'
'Well, I sent for you, Frank'——
'And I'm here, dad.'
'Let me see now. You're eighteen, aren't you?'
'I suppose so, sir; but—you ought to know,' replied Antony archly.
'I? What on earth have I to do with it? At least, I am too busy a man to
remember the ages of all my children. Your mother, now, might; but then
your mother is a woman—a woman, Frank.'
'I could have guessed as much, dad. But as for "all" your children, father,
why, there are only Aggie and I. That comprises the whole lot of us; not
very tiresome to count, I reckon.'
'There! don't be quizzical, boy. I sent for you—er—I sent for you to—
to'——
'Yes, father, sent for me to—to'——
'I wish you to choose a career, you young dog. Don't stand there and to—
to at me, else I'll—I don't know what I mightn't do. But stand down, sir—I
mean, sit down—and you won't look so precious like a poacher.'
Antony obeyed.
'You see, lad, I have your interest at my heart. It is all very well being an
athlete. You're a handsome young fellow too—just like me when I was a
young fellow. Might marry into any county family. But cricket and football
and rowing stroke aren't everything, Frank, and it is high time you were
looking ahead—choosing your career. Well, well,' continued the squire
impatiently, 'have you nothing to say?'
'Oh yes,' cried Frank Antony, beaming now. 'I put that filly at a fence to-
day, father, and'——
'Hang the filly! I want you to choose a career; do you hear?'
'Yes, father.'
'Well, I'm here to help you all I can. Let us see! You're well educated; too
much so for the Church, perhaps.'
'Not good enough anyhow, dad, to wear a hassock. Whew! I mean a
cassock.'
'Well, there are the civil and the diplomatic services.'
Antony shook an impatient head.
'And you're too old for the army. But—now listen, Frank. I expect your
eyes to gleam, lad, when I mention the term: a parliamentary career! Think
of it, lad; think of it. Just think of the long vista of splendid possibilities that
these two words can conjure up before a young man with the blood of a
Blake in his veins.'
Frank Antony did not seem at all impressed; not even a little bit.
'I'm afraid, father, I'm a lazy rascal,' he said, almost pitying the
enthusiasm which he himself could not appreciate. 'I'm not so clever as my
dear old dad, and I fear the House would bore me. Never could make a
speech either, so'——
'Speech!' roared the squire, 'why, you'll never be asked to. They wouldn't
let you. They'd cough you down, groan you down, laugh you down.
Besides, clever men don't make speeches nowadays—only the fools.'
Young Antony suppressed a yawn.
'Very good, my boy, very good!'—his dad was shaking hands with him
—'and I honour you for your choice. And I'm of precisely the same opinion.
There's nothing like a seat in the House.'
'Rather have one on the hillside though, daddy, all among the grouse.'
His father didn't hear him.
'And now, Frank, I'm not an ordinary father, you know; and, before
entering the House, I don't see in the least why you shouldn't have your
fling for a year or two. I maintain that all young fellows should have their
fling. A hundred years or so agone I had my fling. Look at me now. Am I
any the worse? Well, I've just put a bit in the bank for you, lad, so go and do
your best.'
Frank was laughing merrily.
He put his hand in what he called his rabbit-pocket and handed out a
book: The Gamekeeper at Home. 'That is my lay, dad,' he said. 'I only want
to potter around and fish and shoot, or hunt in season. Don't like London.
Hate Paris. Not at home in so-called society. I'll just have my fling in my
own humdrum fashion, daddy, thank you all the same. I'll have my fling,
depend upon it.'
The young man was smiling to himself at some recollection.
'What is it, Frank?'
'Only this, dad. The black keeper—Tim, you know—weighs two
hundred and twenty pounds. The other day he was stronger than I. I threw
him last eve—Cumberland. This morning I lifted him with my left and
landed him on the west side of the picket-fence. How's that for a fling,
daddy?'
'Go on, you young rogue. Listen, I hear Aggie calling you!'
'Oh, but you listen to me, father. I really don't see enough life down
here.'
'Well, there's London, my lad. London for life!'
'No, no! For the next few months, with your permission, I'm going to
live a life as free as a swallow's. I'm going on the road in my own house-
upon-wheels. I'll see and mingle with all sorts of society, high and low, rich
and poor. I'll be happy in spirit, healthy in body, and by the time I come
back my mind will be quite a storehouse of knowledge that will better fit
me for Parliament than all the lore in this great library, father.'
'You're going to take up with gipsies, Frank?'
'Be a sort of gip myself, daddy.'
'Bother me, boy, if there isn't something really good in the idea. But how
are you going to set about it? Build a caravan for yourself?'
'Not build one, father. Nat Biffins Lee—a scion of the old, old gipsy Lee,
you know—owns a real white elephant'——
'Bless my soul! is the lad going mad? You don't mean seriously to travel
the country with a real white elephant, eh?'
'You don't understand, daddy. This Nat Lee has a splendid house-upon-
wheels which belonged to the Duchess of X—— She went abroad, and Lee
has bought it. But as it needs three powerful horses to rattle it along, it is
quite a white elephant to Nat. So I'm going up north to Loggiemouth in
Nairnshire, and if I like it I'll buy it. Is it all right?'
'Right as rain in March, boy. Go when you like.'

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