IN SEARCH OP A HORSE. 15 



in London. " A charming goer : so docile that a 

 lady- might drive him with a pack-thread," found me 

 seated on his back within eight and forty hours. 

 His charms were thrown away upon me, and mine 

 were equally powerless with him ; his fault was two- 

 fold — he had neither legs to carry him, nor wind to 

 go ; much less with twelve stone on his back ; and 

 after much solicitation, equally painful on both 

 sides, I discovered, to my chagrin, that he would 

 make an excellent gig-horse, but had an insurmount- 

 able objection to the saddle ! He was sold at the 

 Bazaar to a butcher, who seemed as well satisfied 

 with his purchase, as I was to get rid of him. 



Another "charming" brute attracted my atten- 

 tion. I am not much of a dandy at any time, but 

 by some confounded ill-luck, I went to the stables on 

 this occasion, in a new coat, new hat, new trowsers, 

 and with as fashionable an exterior as the gloss of a 

 tailor's shop can give. To make matters worse, I 

 wore, what I seldom use, an eye-glass. The conse- 

 quence was inevitable. The "sweetest little park 

 horse that ever was crossed" was of course the 

 " very thing I wanted." I thought so too ; but the 

 good nature of the dealer saved my pocket, whatever 



