278 THE HUNTING FIELD 



watchful, without being inquisitive, he served even 

 Shabbyhounde with all the faithfulness of affection ; 

 yet he had never risen much above the rank of a 

 horse-dealer's man. The reader will see why. Job's 

 manner and appearance were against him he had 

 but one eye and no tongue. 



Strutt, however, was not deficient in that respect. 

 Having abused every limb and every look about the 

 horse, he turned the voluble battery of his tongue 

 upon poor Job, whose master he belaboured, through 

 him, in a most exemplary way. Job, however, as we 

 said before, cared little for that sort of thing, and 

 having retraced his steps to Harborough, and returned 

 the pony to the butcher from whom he had borrowed 

 it, he betook himself to his stable, just as if he had 

 only been along at the post office. 



" Well, Job, you've got back," observed his master, 

 entering the stable at four o'clock. 



" Yes," replied Job, as he knelt, hand-rubbing one 

 of the ticklish-legged stud. 



" Did you see the groom ? " 



" Yes," was the answer. 



"What did he say?" 



"> d me well," replied Job. 



Change the shade again, Mr. Showman, and put us 

 in the one exhibiting Strutt coming out after dinner 

 fuller than ever of beer, brandy, baccy, and black- 

 guardism. 



That's your sort, Mr. Showman ; now we'll go on 

 again. 



" Let's see the d d cripple out," says Mr. 



Strutt, swaggering into the yard, hallooing out, " Here, 

 Tom ! John ! James ! ostler ! what are you all 

 about ? " " Saddle me that orse," exclaims he, as his 

 authoritative voice brings out the whole crew with 

 their mouths full, they having been regaling in the 

 kitchen with what had come from the " bar table." 



"Take off my straps," said he, cocking up a leg to 



