24 Tom Tootler. 



says. 'The Squire told me hisself he only give 

 forty pounds for him at Tattersall's, and he was dead 

 beat — could 'ardly wag, indeed.' ' Well,' says Joe, 

 a bustin' out a larfin', ' well, you are a old softy. The 

 Squire must a bin a gammonin' on you to some toon. 

 Why, now,' says Joe, a gettin' confidential like, ' I'll tell 

 you something private about the screw in question. The 

 Squire bought him last week, that's right enough, but he 

 didnt buy him at Tattersall's, and he didn't give forty 

 pund for 'im neither, for he bought the 'oss from 

 Noocome Mason, and he gave the small sum, the small 

 sum,' says Joe, getting quite sarcastic like, ' of three 

 'underd and fifty guineas for 'im.' So you see the Squire 

 got the best of the chaff, after all, didn't he, sir ? " * 



"Maybe," continued Tom, "you noticed the Hurl of 

 Hacklefield out with us, that same day at the Cross Roads. 

 Very glad to see him I was, and he seemed pleased to see 

 me too, and came up as hearty as possible. The sight 

 of him reminded me of a thing that happened, pretty 

 near the very last time as I saw him, when I was 

 huntin' them staghounds, and his Lordship kept as he 

 does now, the Vale of Hogwash. My ! what a day that 

 was to be sure. My hounds was running, but not 

 hard, for there was a bad scent — being it was just 

 the end of the season, you see sir, and the ground 

 being very dry — when all of a sudden my lord's 

 pack, after their fox, makes their appearance, and 

 before you could say Jack Robinson the two of 'em — the 

 Foxhounds and the Staggers — gets mixed up alltogether. 1 



* In relating this little anecdote, no slur is intended to be cast on the good 

 name of that celebrated dealer, the late Newcombe Mason. The horse no 

 doubt was a clipper (the Squire was too good a judo^e to buy a bad one), but 

 was presumably not fit on this particular day.— F. M. 



