"You'd far better hold your tongue, Dagley," said the wife, "and not
kick your own trough over. When a man as is father of a family has
been an' spent money at market and made himself the worse for liquor,
he's done enough mischief for one day. But I should like to know what
my boy's done, sir."
"Niver do you mind what he's done," said Dagley, more fiercely, "it's
my business to speak, an' not yourn. An' I wull speak, too. I'll hev
my say--supper or no. An' what I say is, as I've lived upo' your
ground from my father and grandfather afore me, an' hev dropped our
money into't, an' me an' my children might lie an' rot on the ground
for top-dressin' as we can't find the money to buy, if the King wasn't
to put a stop."
"My good fellow, you're drunk, you know," said Mr. Brooke,
confidentially but not judiciously. "Another day, another day," he
added, turning as if to go.
But Dagley immediately fronted him, and Fag at his heels growled low,
as his master's voice grew louder and more insulting, while Monk also
drew close in silent dignified watch. The laborers on the wagon were
pausing to listen, and it seemed wiser to be quite passive than to
attempt a ridiculous flight pursued by a bawling man.
"I'm no more drunk nor you are, nor so much," said Dagley. "I can
carry my liquor, an' I know what I meean. An' I meean as the King 'ull
put a stop to 't, for them say it as knows it, as there's to be a
Rinform, and them landlords as never done the right thing by their
tenants 'ull be treated i' that way as they'll hev to scuttle off. An'
there's them i' Middlemarch knows what the Rinform is--an' as knows
who'll hev to scuttle. Says they, 'I know who _your_ landlord is.'
An' says I, 'I hope you're the better for knowin' him, I arn't.' Says
they, 'He's a close-fisted un.' 'Ay ay,' says I. 'He's a man for the
Rinform,' says they. That's what they says. An' I made out what the
Rinform were--an' it were to send you an' your likes a-scuttlin' an'
wi' pretty strong-smellin' things too. An' you may do as you like now,
for I'm none afeard on you. An' you'd better let my boy aloan, an'
look to yoursen, afore the Rinform has got upo' your back. That's what
I'n got to say," concluded Mr. Dagley, striking his fork into the
ground with a firmness which proved inconvenient as he tried to draw it
up again.