His eyes narrowed and blazed like those of a madman.

He stood up on his porch, clenched his fists and launched into the most violent fit of cursing I ever heard.

The sight of those holiday-makers had turned him into a demon.

He thought they were capitalists.

Here was the hated tribe of rich men, the idle classes, all dressed up with flags flying, riding across the country on a jamboree.
"The blood-sucking parasites! The bleareyed barnacles!" yelled Comrade Bannerman.