mily;
and hinting that it would be better the park should be cut up into
small farms and kitchen gardens, or feed good mutton instead of
worthless deer.

[Illustration: The Village Politician]

He is a great thorn in the side of the squire, who is sadly afraid that
he will introduce politics into the village, and turn it into an
unhappy, thinking community. He is a still greater grievance to Master
Simon, who has hitherto been able to sway the political opinions of the
place, without much cost of learning or logic; but has been very much
puzzled of late to weed out the doubts and heresies already sown by
this champion of reform. Indeed, the latter has taken complete command
at the tap-room of the tavern, not so much because he has convinced, as
because he has out-talked all the established oracles. The apothecary,
with all his philosophy, was as nought before him. He has convinced and
converted the landlord at least a dozen times; who, however, is liable
to be convinced and converted the other way by the next person with whom
he talks. It is true the radical has a violent antagonist in the
landlady, who is vehemently loyal, and thoroughly devoted to the king,
Master Simon, and the squire. She now and then comes out upon the
reformer with all the fierceness of a cat-o'-mountain, and does not
spare her own soft-headed husband, for listening to what she terms such
"low-lived politics." What makes the good woman the more violent, is the
perfect coolness with which the radical listens to her attacks, drawing
his face up into a provoking supercilious smile; and when she has talked
herself out of breath, quietly asking her for a taste of her
home-brewed.

[Illustration: The Landlady]

The only person who is in any way a match for this redoubtable
politician is Ready-Money Jack Tibbets, who maintains his stand in the
tap-room, in defiance of the radical and all his works. Jack is one of
the most loyal men in the country, without being able to reason about
the matter. He has that admirable quality for a tough arguer, also, that
he never knows when he is beat. He has half a dozen old maxims, which he
advances on all occasions, and though his antagonist may overturn them
never so often, yet he always brings them anew into the field. He is
like the robber in Ariosto, who, though his head might be cut off half a
hundred times, yet whipped it on his shoulders again in a twinkling,
and returned as sound a man as ever to the charg