fowls into their pockets, and cane
the poor man himself. If he went up to the great house to complain, it
was hard to get the speech of Sir Lewis; and, indeed, his only chance of
being righted was to coax the squire's pretty housekeeper, who could
do what she pleased with her master. If he ventured to intrude upon
the Lord of the Manor without this precaution, he gained nothing by his
pains. Sir Lewis, indeed, would at first receive him with a civil face;
for, to give him his due, he could be a fine gentleman when he pleased.
"Good day, my friend," he would say, "what situation have you in my
family?" "Bless your honour!" says the poor fellow, "I am not one of
your honour's servants; I rent a small piece of ground, your honour."
"Then, you dog," quoth the squire, "what do you mean by coming here? Has
a gentleman nothing to do but to hear the complaints of clowns? Here!
Philip, James, Dick, toss this fellow in a blanket; or duck him, and set
him in the stocks to dry."

One of these precious Lords of the Manor enclosed a deer-park; and, in
order to stock it, he seized all the pretty pet fawns that his tenants
had brought up, without paying them a farthing, or asking their leave.
It was a sad day for the parish of St Dennis. Indeed, I do not believe
that all his oppressive exactions and long bills enraged the poor
tenants so much as this cruel measure.

Yet for a long time, in spite of all these inconveniences, St Dennis's
was a very pleasant place. The people could not refrain from capering
if they heard the sound of a fiddle. And, if they were inclined to be
riotous, Sir Lewis had only to send for Punch, or the dancing dogs,
and all was quiet again. But this could not last forever; they began
to think more and more of their condition; and, at last, a club of
foul-mouthed, good-for-nothing rascals was held at the sign of the
Devil, for the purpose of abusing the squire and the parson. The doctor,
to own the truth, was old and indolent, extremely fat and greedy. He had
not preached a tolerable sermon for a long time. The squire was still
worse; so that, partly by truth and partly by falsehood, the club set
the whole parish against their superiors. The boys scrawled caricatures
of the clergyman upon the church-door, and shot at the landlord with
pop-guns as he rode a-hunting. It was even whispered about that the Lord
of the Manor had no right to his estate, and that, if he were compelled
to produce the original title-deed