There was Frank, the richest farmer in the parish, whose great grandfather had been knocked on the head many years before, in a squabble between the parish and a former landlord.

There was Dick, the merry-andrew, rather light-fingered and riotous, but a clever droll fellow.

Above all, there was Charley, the publican, a jolly, fat, honest lad, a great favourite with the women, who, if he had not been rather too fond of ale and chuck-farthing, would have been the best fellow in the neighbourhood.
"My boys," said Charley, "this is exceedingly well for Madam North;--not that I would speak uncivilly of her; she put up my picture in her best room, bless her for it! But, I say, this is very well for her, and for Lord Caesar, and Squire Don, and Colonel Von;--but what affair is it of yours or mine?
It is not to be wondered at, that gentlemen should wish to keep poor people out of their own.

But it is strange indeed that they should expect the poor themselves to combine against their own interests.

If the folks at St Dennis's should attack us we have the law and our cudgels to protect us.