IN SEARCH OF A HORSE. 31 



I had taken no warranty, for where was the value 

 of one from a man confessedly insolvent ? I had no 

 remedy, but for the farrier to make the best of it. 

 He was examined — not a trace of disease appeared ; 

 his shoes were removed, and then we found the 

 marks of an old wound that had no doubt established 

 his fair fame "in the Surrey;" some time or other, 

 though not recently, he had staked his foot. I was 

 well assured that the brute was lame for hfe, and I 

 sold him to the farrier himself for £15 on specula- 

 tion ! 



Nothing daunted, I set off once more to examine 

 "a sweet mare got by Tickleback out of Muley's 

 dam, by Fireaway, sire by Cockchafer, Skyscraper, 

 Run-the-rig," and so on; a pedigree as long as her 

 tail. She too belonged to "a gentleman." I was 

 determined to see my "gentleman" this time. A 

 sort of nondescript, half gentleman, half jockey, but 

 with the word rogue as legibly written on his face 

 as if it had been tattooed there, came forward. 

 "Bought her for breeding. Sir; won't do; dropped 

 three fillies running. Sweetest creature that ever 

 was crossed, but won't breed a colt, and she must 

 go." 



