This was the first word spoken by the Goarlys that had pleased the Senator, and this set him off again.  “Just so;—­and I admire a man that will stand up for his own rights.  I am told that you have found his Lordship’s pheasants destructive to your corn.”

“Didn’t leave him hardly a grain last August,” said Mrs. Goarly.

“Will you hold your jaw, woman, or will you not?” said the man turning round fiercely at her.  “I’m going to have the law of his Lordship, sir.  What’s seven and six an acre?  There’s that quantity of pheasants in that wood as’d eat up any mortal thing as ever was grooved.  Seven and six!”

“Didn’t you propose arbitration?”

“I never didn’t propose nothin’.  I’ve axed two pound, and my lawyer says as how I’ll get it.  What I sold come off that other bit of ground down there.  Wonderful crop!  And this ’d’ve been the same.  His Lordship ain’t nothin’ to me, Mr. Gotobed.”

“You don’t approve of hunting, Mr. Goarly.”

“Oh, I approves if they’d pay a poor man for what harm they does him.  Look at that there goose.”  Mr. Gotobed did look at the goose.  “There’s nine and twenty they’ve tuk from me, and only left un that.”  Now Mrs. Goarly’s goose was well known in those parts.  It was declared that she was more than a match for any fox in the county, but that Mrs. Goarly for the last two years had never owned any goose but this one.

“The foxes have eaten there all?” asked the Senator.

“Every mortal one.”

“And the gentlemen of the hunt have paid you nothing.”

“I had four half-crowns once,” said the woman.

“If you don’t send the heads you don’t get it,” said the man, “and then they’ll keep you waiting months and months, just for their pleasures.  Who’s a going to put up with that?  I ain’t.”

“And now you’re going to law?”

“I am,—­like a man.  His Lordship ain’t nothin’ to me.  I ain’t afeard of his Lordship.”

“Will it cost you much?”

“That’s just what it will do, sir,” said the woman.

“Didn’t I tell you, hold your jaw?”

“The gentleman was going to offer to help us a little, Dan.”

“I was going to say that I am interested in the case, and that you have all my good wishes.  I do not like to offer pecuniary help.”

“You’re very good, sir; very good.  This bit of land is mine; not a doubt of it;—­but we’re poor, sir.”

“Indeed we is,” said the woman.  “What with taxes and rates, and them foxes as won’t let me rear a head of poultry and them brutes of birds as eats up the corn, I often tells him he’d better sell the bit o’ land and just set up for a public.”

“It belonged to my feyther and grandfeyther,” said Goarly.

Then the Senator’s heart was softened again and he explained at great length that he would watch the case and if he saw his way clearly, befriend it with substantial aid.  He asked about the attorney and took down Bearside’s address.  After that he shook hands with both of them, and then made his way back to Bragton through Mr. Twentyman’s farm.