And then,
again, nothing in East Barsetshire could be equal to anything in West
Barsetshire. Isn't that it; eh, Fothergill?" Mr. Fothergill professed
that he had been brought up in that faith and intended to die in it.
"Your exotics at Boxall Hill are very fine, magnificent!" said Mr.
Sowerby.
"I'd sooner have one full-grown oak standing in its pride alone,"
said young Gresham, rather grandiloquently, "than all the exotics in
the world."
"They'll come in due time," said the duke.
"But the due time won't be in my days. And so they're going to cut
down Chaldicotes Forest, are they, Mr. Sowerby?"
"Well, I can't tell you that. They are going to disforest it. I have
been ranger since I was twenty-two, and I don't yet know whether that
means cutting down."
"Not only cutting down, but rooting up," said Mr. Fothergill.
"It's a murderous shame," said Frank Gresham; "and I will say one
thing, I don't think any but a Whig government would do it."
"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed his grace. "At any rate, I'm sure of this," he
said, "that if a Conservative government did do so, the Whigs would
be just as indignant as you are now."
"I'll tell you what you ought to do, Mr. Gresham," said Sowerby: "put
in an offer for the whole of the West Barsetshire Crown property;
they will be very glad to sell it.
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