}
Or farm-yard load, tugg'd fiercely from the stack;
And as these wrongs to greater numbers rose,
50
The more he look'd on all men as his foes.
He built a mud-wall'd hovel, where he kept
His various wealth, and there he oft-times slept;
But no success could please his cruel soul,
He wish'd for one to trouble and control;
He wanted some obedient boy to stand