A very smart young person came from the neighbouring market town once,
and tried the pond with the fly. He had just reached his third dozen
when he was caught by old Sam, the gamekeeper, and three fishermen. They
tied a cart-rope round his waist and threw him into the pond; they then
pitched the whole of the trout back into the water, and after that they
dragged the trespasser out, floured him carefully, and sent him on his
road.

These incidents are not idyllic, but they serve to show what kind of a
hold a strong, just man may obtain upon simple people if he only shows
that he is ready to work for them. The whole of the tenantry and the
villagers knew that their stern old master gave up his life for their
sake. They knew that he worked like a common bailiff; they knew that he
drank nothing but water; they knew that he put by money every year with
the sole object of making improvements which might better their
condition, and they respected him accordingly.

When he reached the age of ninety-six years he was no longer capable of
guiding his pony: the pony guided him. On one afternoon the beast turned
just at the end of the Fisher Row and walked the old man quietly back
to the stables. He could not dismount without assistance, and he had to
wait in the stall, while Matchem munched his oats, until one of the
stable boys came and released him. From that day the Squire rode no
more, and the occasion was memorable, alike for fishers and hinds.

When the old man died he was followed to his grave by the entire
population from nine farms and two fishing villages. Old men of eighty,
who remembered him when he was a bright young fellow in George the
Third's time, went and stood round his grave. Everybody wanted some