"And this is the way, sir, the land gets eaten up by a set of tinkers, and cobblers, and money-lending jobbers, who suck the blood of the aristocracy!" The oaths we omit, leaving the reader to pepper Mr.Trebooze's conversation therewith, up to any degree of heat which may suit his palate.
Tom sympathised with him deeply, of course; and did not tell him, as he might have done, that he thought the sooner such cumberers of the ground were cleared off, whether by an encumbered estates' act, such as we may see yet in England, or by their own suicidal folly, the better it would be for the universe in general, and perhaps for themselves in particular.

But he only answered with pleasant effrontery-- "Ah, my dear sir, I am sure there are hundreds of good sportsmen who can sympathise with you deeply.

The wonder is, that you do not unite and defend yourselves.

For not only in the West of England, but in Ireland, and in Wales, and in the north, too, if one is to believe those novels of Currer Bell's and her sister, there is a large and important class of landed proprietors of the same stamp as yourself, and exposed to the very same dangers.

I wonder at times that you do not all join, and use your combined influence on the Government." "The Government?
All a set of Whig traitors! Call themselves Conservative, or what they like.