HUNTS WITH JORROCKS 



' 'Ave you seen my 'ounds, ould gal ? ' inquired 

 he, pulling up short. 



* Bless your beautiful countenance, my cock 

 angel ! ' exclaimed the woman, in astonishment at 

 the sight of a man in a scarlet coat with a face to 

 match ; ' bless your beautiful countenance, you 're 

 the very babe I Ve been looking for all this blessed 

 day cross my palm with a bit o' siller, and I '11 tell 

 you sick a fortin ! ' 



' Cuss YOUR FORTIN ! ' roared Mr. Jorrocks, 

 sticking spurs into his horse, and grinning with 

 rage at the idea of having pulled up to listen to 

 such nonsense. 



'I hope you'll brick your neck, ye nasty 

 ugly ould thief!' rejoined the gipsy, altering her 

 tone. 



"Opes I sharrit,' muttered Mr. Jorrocks, trot- 

 ting on to get out of hearing. Away he went, 

 blob, blob, blobbing through the deep holding clay 

 as before. 



Presently he pulled up again with a ' Pray, my 

 good man, 'ave you seen my 'ounds Mr. Jorrocks's 



54 



