"
Goarly was the man who had proposed himself as a client to Mr.
Masters, and who was desirous of claiming damages to the amount of
forty shillings an acre for injury, done to the crops on two fields
belonging to himself which lay adjacent to Dillsborough Wood, a
covert belonging to Lord Rufford, about four miles from the town,
in which both pheasants and foxes were preserved with great care.
"Has Goarly been to you?" asked Twentyman.
Mr. Masters nodded his head. "That's just it," said Mrs. Masters.
"I don't see why a man isn't to go to law if he pleases--that
is, if he can afford to pay for it. I have nothing to say against
gentlemen's sport; but I do say that they should run the same
chance as others. And I say it's a shame if they're to band
themselves together and make the county too hot to hold any one as
doesn't like to have his things ridden over, and his crops
devoured, and his fences knocked to Jericho. I think there's a
deal of selfishness in sport and a deal of tyranny."
"Oh, Mrs. Masters!" exclaimed Larry.
"Well, I do. And if a poor man,--or a man whether he's poor or no,"
added Mrs. Masters, correcting herself, as she thought of the money
which this man ought to have in order that he might pay for his
lawsuit,--"thinks himself injured, it's nonsense to tell me that
nobody should take up his case.
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