THE POMPONIUS EGO DAY 



shaped gray upon the heath. ' This is not a 

 bad chap, Haimes the saddler, and I'll tell ye a 

 story 'bout him that may come into your palar- 

 varment, if you like. His trade lies a good deal 

 'mong the saints, who wouldn't 'prove of his 

 'tinting, so he always christens his 'oss Business, 

 and when any on 'em call when he's out, his 

 foreman says his master 's away on " business " 

 haw, haw, haw! he, he, he!' a chuckle in which 

 the great journalist joined. 'This is a shabby 

 screw,' said Mr. Jorrocks, pointing to a man in 

 a rusty Bath-bricky scarlet, riding a badly-clipped 

 ewe-necked dun. 'He's 'unted all his life, they 

 say, and never given a copper to 'ounds, always 

 declarin' that each season was to be his last. 

 And, by the way, reminds me,' continued Mr. 

 Jorrocks, turning short on his secretary, "ow do 

 the chaps buck up now that they've got wot 

 they want in the way of an 'untsman ? ' 



'Why, only very middling, I'm sorry to say, 

 Sir,' replied Mr. Fleeceall. 'Somehow or other, 

 I never can find a man with any money in his 



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