“’Tis a shame to see what you get for your goodness in letting folks go up an’ down your field-path, Mr. Yelland,” he says.
But Nick looked at him sideways, for he knowed Ben was his rival, an’ didn’t feel like trusting him a yard.
“They wouldn’t be here if I could help it. But seemingly I can’t,” he answered back.
Ben nodded.
“The law won’t help ’e? ’Tis a crying shame; but if I was you, I’d help myself an’ hang the law.”
“I’ve tried often enough, surely. I’ve done every mortal thing that I can think of. I wish to God us was allowed to use man-traps, like landowners did in the old time. But the law’s got so weak as water nowadays. A man mayn’t even shoot a burglar, they tell me. ’Twill be a penal offence next to ax a housebreaker to leave the family Bible behind him.”
“Well, there’s man-traps an’ man-traps. The meadow be yours to do what you please with, ban’t it?” says Ben, very artful like.
“It did ought to be.”
“You can graze sheep in it?”
“Yes.”