"Than _that's what I end with_."

"Ah," replied M'Loughlin indignantly, "you think you have the ball at
your own foot, now that old Topertoe is gone, and his son has made you
his under agent. A nice job indeed it was, that transformed old drunken
Tom Topertoe into Lord Cumber, and made his son, the present Lord, too
proud to live on his own estate. However, I'd be glad to see the honest
man that ever envied the same old Tom his title, when we all know that
he got it for selling his country. As for you, Vulture, I defy and
despise you; when my rent's due, thank God I am able to pay it, so you
may do your worst. While Mr. Hickman's over you, the tenants have some
protection, in spite of your villainy, you unprincipled scoundrel."

"Our farms lie snugly together, Mr: M'Loughlin, and _that's what I end
with_."

It was from the town of Castle Cumber, which we have described at the
opening of our narrative, that old Tom Topertoe, a squire of the true
Irish kidney, took his title. Topertoe, or Lord Castle Cumber, as we
must now call him, like many others, had the high honor of being a Union
Lord--that, is to say his attachment to his principles was so steady,
that he did not hesitate to sell his country for a title, and we may
add, something besides. It is not our intention, at this distance of
time, to discuss the merits of either the union or its repeal; but in
justice to truth and honor, or, perhaps, we should rather say, fraud and
profligacy, we are constrained to admit, that there is not to be found
in the annals of all history, any political negotiation based upon such
rank and festering corruption, as was the legislative union. Had the
motives which actuated the English government towards this country been
pure, and influenced by principles of equality and common justice, they