"Nay, nay," said old Martin, "I'n gi'en up to my son; I'm no tenant now: let my son take my place. Th' ould foulks ha' had their turn: they mun make way for the young uns."
"I should ha' thought the biggest tenant had the best right, more nor th' oldest," said Luke Britton, who was not fond of the critical Mr Poyser; "there's Mester Holdsworth has more land nor anybody else on th' estate."
"Well," said Mr Poyser, "suppose we say the man wi' the foulest land shall sit at top; then whoever gets th' honour, there'll be no envying on him."
"Eh, here's Mester Massey," said Mr Craig, who, being a neutral in the dispute, had no interest but in conciliation; "the schoolmaster ought to be able to tell you what's right. Who's to sit at top o' the table, Mr Massey?"
"Why, the broadest man," said Bartle; "and then he won't take up other folks' room; and the next broadest must sit at bottom."
This happy mode of settling the dispute produced much laughter—a smaller joke would have sufficed for that. Mr Casson, however, did not feel it compatible with his dignity and superior knowledge to
