And the person who imagines that the Squire of whom Washington Irving and Mounseer Montalembert wrote all sorts of pretty things has a jolly good time of it in these de—testable days,
Is a sentimental ass,
Says the fine Old Country Gentleman, one of the present time.
The fine Old Country Gentleman has an Elizabethan mansion,
But what the dickens is the good of that if his means continually narrow in proportion to
His family's expansion?
If he gives up his deer, and sells his timber, dismisses his servants, and thinks of advertising his house for a grammar school,
Or a lunatic asylum
(As he often has to do), what is there in his lot to excite the jealousy of those darned Radicals, though the common comfort of that poor caput lupinum, the Land Owner, on however little a scale
Seems invariably to rile 'em?