The squire never went into the turnip field, and seemed quite oblivious that he carried a gun, for when a covey rose at his feet he did not fire, but simply marked them down.

His mind, in fact, was busy with more important matters, and, fond as he was of shooting, he wanted the birds for some one else's delectation.

After he had had the place a little while, there was not a square inch of waste ground to be found.

When the tenants were callous to hints, the squire gave them pretty clearly to understand that he meant his land to be improved, and improved it was.

He himself of his own free motive and initiative ordered new buildings to be erected where he, by personal inspection, saw that they would pay.