Now, Jemmy Trailcudgel was an honest man, whom every one liked; but he was also a man of spirit, whom, in another sense, most people feared.

Among his family he was a perfect child in affection and tenderness--loving, playful, and simple as one of themselves.

Yet this man, affectionate, brave, and honest, because he could not submit in silence and without vindication, to the wanton and overbearing violence of his landlord, was harassed by a series of persecutions, under the pretended authority of law, until he and his unhappy family were driven to beggary--almost to despair.
"Trailcudgel," said Sir Thomas to him one day that he had sent for him in a fury, "by what right and authority, sirra, did you dare to cut turf on that part of the bog called Berwick's Bank ?" "Upon the right and authority of my lease, Sir Thomas," replied Trailcudgel; "and with great respect, sir, you had neither right nor authority for settin' my bog, that I'm payin' you rent for, to another tenant." The baronet grew black in the face, as he always did when in a passion, and especially when replied to.
"You are a lying scoundrel, sirra," continued the other; "the bog does not belong to you, and I will set it to the devil if I like." "I know nobody so fit to be your tenant," replied Trailcudgel.

"But I am no scoundrel, Sir Thomas," added the independent fellow, "and there's very few dare tell me so but yourself." "What, you villain! do you contradict me?
do you bandy words and looks with me ?" asked the baronet, his rage deepening at Trailcudgel's audacity in having replied at all.
"Villain!" returned his gigantic tenant, in a voice of thunder.

"You called me a scoundrel, sirra, and you have called me a villain, sirra, now I tell you to your teeth, you're a liar--I am neither villain nor scoundrel; but you're both; and if I hear another word of insolence out of your foul and lying mouth, I'll thrash you as I would a shafe of whate or oats." The black hue of the baronet's rage changed to a much modester tint; he looked upon the face of the sturdy yeoman, now flushed with honest resentment; he looked upon the eye that was kindled at once into an expression of resolution and disdain; and turning on his toe, proceeded at a pace by no means funereal to the steps of the hall-door, and having ascended them, he turned round and said, in a very mild and quite a gentlemanly tone, "Oh, very well, Mr.Trailcudgel; very well, indeed.