He swarmed with game, and, though he was liberal, his hares and his birds were immensely destructive: computation could not fix the damage done by them.

Probably the farmers expected them not to eat.

'There are two parties to a bargain,' said Everard, 'and one gets the worst of it.

But if he was never obliged to make it, where's his right to complain ?' Men of sense rarely obtain satisfactory answers: they are provoked to despise their kind.

But the poacher was another kind of vermin than the stupid tenant.
Everard did him the honour to hate him, and twice in a fray had he collared his ruffian, and subsequently sat in condemnation of the wretch: for he who can attest a villany is best qualified to punish it.
Gangs from the metropolis found him too determined and alert for their sport.