But your son, if you have one--that'll be another pair of
boots!'
'You and your pals would be much better employed in stopping this
accursed war than in talking revolutionary drivel like that,' said
the Squire, with energy.
'Oh ho! so you want to stop the war?' said the other, lifting his
eyebrows. 'I should like to know why.'
The Squire went off at once into one of his usual tirades as to
'slavery' and 'liberty.' 'You're made to work, or fight!
willy-nilly. That man's turned out of his farm--willy-nilly. I'm
made to turn him out--willy-nilly. The common law of England's
trampled under foot. What's worth it? Nothing!'
The Squire's thin countenance glowed fanatically. With his arms
akimbo he stood towering over the younger man, his white hair
glistening in the sun.
The other smiled, as he looked his assailant up and down.
'Who's the revolutionist now?' he said quietly. 'What's the war cost
_you_, Mr. Mannering, compared to what it's cost me and my pals?
This is the first holiday I've had for three years.
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