Volume 103 — On an Irish Landlord.
Reading edition
"Love thou thy Land!" So sang the Laureate. Were that sole Landlord duty, you'd fulfil it! But land makes not a Land, nor soil a State. Loving your land, how sullenly you hate— The People—who've to till it! Of the earth, earthy is that love of soil Which for wide-acred wealth will sap and spoil The souls and sinews of the thralls of Toil. Churl! Bear a human heart, a liberal hand! Then thou may'st say that thou dost "love thy Land."
When a Stag has once been uncarted, and has been given so many minutes law to get away, the Huntsman may correctly allude to him as "The Deer Departed."
"DAVY JONES'S LOCKER."
Davy Jones. "AHA! SO LONG AS THEY STICK TO THEM OLD CHARTS, NO FEAR O' MY LOCKER BEIN' EMPTY!!"