“Just so,” said Linton, laughing; “if the cur could speak, he 'd tell us a laborer was as tender as 'my lord.' I've come over to see you,” added he, after a moment's pause, “and to say that I 'm sorry to have failed in my undertaking regarding you; they are determined to turn you out.”
“I was thinking so,” said Tom, moodily.
“I did my best. I told them you had been many years on the estate—”
“Forty-two.”
“Just so. I said forty and upwards—that your children had grown up on it—that you were actually like a part of the property. I spoke of the hardship of turning a man at your time of life, with a helpless family too, upon the wide world. I even went so far as to say that these were not the times for such examples; that there was a spirit abroad of regard for the poor man, a watchful inquiry into the evils of his condition, that made these 4 clearances,' as they call them, unwise and impolitic, as well as cruel.”
“An' what did they say to that?” asked Tom, abruptly.
“Laughed—laughed heartily.”
“They laughed?”
“No—I am wrong,” said Linton, quickly. “Kennyfeck did not laugh; on the contrary, he seemed grave, and observed that up at Drumcoologan—is there such a name?”
“Ay, and nice boys they 're in it,” said Tom, nodding.