All in doo season.

But," he performed a circle with his pipe stem, and darted it as from the centre thereof toward Stephen's breast, with the poser, "do we s'pport thieves at public expense for them to keep thievin'-- black, white, or brown--no matter, eh?
Well, then, if the public wunt bear it, dang me if I can see why individles shud bear it.
It ent no manner o' reason, net as I can see; let gentlemen have their opinion, or let 'em not.

Foxes be hanged!" Much slow winking was interchanged.

In a general sense, Farmer Wainsby's remarks were held to be un-English, though he was pardoned for them as one having peculiar interests at stake.
"Ay, ay! we know all about that," said Stephen, taking succour from the eyes surrounding him.
"And so, may be, do we," said Wainsby.
"Fox-hunting 'll go on when your great-grandfather's your youngest son, farmer; or t' other way." "I reckon it'll be a stuffed fox your chil'ern 'll hunt, Mr.Steeve; more straw in 'em than bow'ls." "If the country," Stephen thumped the table, "were what you'd make of it, hang me if my name 'd long be Englishman!" "Hear, hear, Steeve!" was shouted in support of the Conservative principle enunciated by him.
"What I say is, flesh and blood afore foxes!" Thus did Farmer Wainsby likewise attempt a rallying-cry; but Stephen's retort, "Ain't foxes flesh and blood ?" convicted him of clumsiness, and, buoyed on the uproar of cheers, Stephen pursued, "They are; to kill 'em in cold blood's beast-murder, so it is.

What do we do?
We give 'em a fair field--a fair field and no favour! We let 'em trust to the instincts Nature, she's given 'em; and don't the old woman know best?
If they cap, get away, they win the day.