The reason of these things is that Sarsen has no great landlord. There
are fifty small proprietors, and not a single resident magistrate.
Besides the small farmers, there are scores of cottage owners, every one
of whom is perfectly independent. Nobody cares for anybody. It is a
republic, without even the semblance of a Government. It is liberty,
equality, and swearing. As it is just within the limit of a borough,
almost all the cottagers have votes, and are not to be trifled with. The
proximity of horse-racing establishments adds to the general atmosphere
of dissipation. Betting, card-playing, ferret-breeding and dog-fancying,
poaching and politics, are the occupations of the populace. A little
illicit badger-baiting is varied by a little vicar-baiting; the mass of
the inhabitants are the reddest of Reds. Que voulez-vous?
The edges of some large estates come up near, but the owners would
hardly like to institute a persecution of these turbulent folk. If they
did, where would be their influence at the next election? If a landlord
makes himself unpopular, his own personal value depreciates. He is a
nonentity in the committee-room, and his help rather deprecated by the
party than desired. The Sarsen fellows are not such fools as to break
pheasant preserves in the vale; as they are resident, that would not
answer. They keep outside the _sanctum sanctorum_ of the pheasant
coverts.
Pages:
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100