movere'!"

"Bother!" said the squire. "I suppose I am to be held up as a tyrant, a
Nero, a Richard the Third, or a Grand Inquisitor, merely for having
things smart and tidy! Stocks indeed! Your friend Rickeybockey said he
was never more comfortable in his life,--quite enjoyed sitting there.
And what did not hurt Rickeybockey's dignity (a very gentlemanlike man he
is, when he pleases) ought to be no such great matter to Master Leonard
Fairfield. But 't is no use talking! What's to be done now? The woman
must not starve; and I'm sure she can't live out of Rickeybockey's wages
to Lenny,--by the way, I hope he don't board the boy upon his and
Jackeymo's leavings: I hear they dine upon newts and sticklebacks, faugh!
I'll tell you what, Parson, now I think of it, at the back of the cottage
which she has taken there are some fields of capital land just vacant.
Rickeybockey wants to have 'em, and sounded me as to the rent when he was
at the Hall. I only half promised him the refusal. And he must give up
four or five acres of the best land round the cottage to the widow--just
enough for her to manage--and she can keep a dairy. If she want capital,
I'll lend her some in your name,--only don't tell Stirn; and as for the
rent--we'll talk of that when we see how she gets on, thankless,
obstinate jade that she is! You see," added the squire, as if he felt
there was some apology due for this generosity to an object whom he
professed to consider so ungrateful, "her husband was a faithful servant,
and so--I wish you would not stand there staring me out of countenance,
but go down to the woman at once, or Stirn will have let the land to
Rickeybockey, as sure as a gun. And hark ye, Dale, perhaps you can
contrive, if the woman is so cursedly stiffbacked, not to say the land is
mine, or that it is any favour I want to do her--or, in short, manage it
as you can for the best." Still even this charitable message failed.
The widow knew that the land was the squire's, and worth a good L3 an