68 Charlie JVildoats. 



Aylesbury with the Baron, riding with a loose rein, at the 

 doubles in the vale, utterly regardless of his own neck and 

 his horse's, and, probably, in the course of the day coming 

 to immortal grief in the Rousham or some other equally 

 celebrated brook. Another day, strolling into your gun- 

 maker's, you'll find him talking away like a house 

 afire to the proprietors of the establishment, and 

 ordering express rifles and other murderous weapons, 

 regardless of expense. ''Sick of England, old man," 

 he will say, "going in for big game — elephants, 

 tigers, and what not, eh ! Tom Blazer and Billy Camp- 

 bell, that's the party. Why don't you come too, old 

 chappy? And, lo and behold, a week after, as we are seated 

 quietly in the stalls of the Frivolity Theatre, looking on 

 at the new burlesque, who should come swaggering 

 in, rather red in the face, with a huge camellia, 

 as big as a cauliflower in his coat, and late, of course, 

 but our erratic young friend. "Not going, old man, after 

 all," he tells us in a hoarse whisper. " Uncle old, and 

 all the rest of it. Didn't like to leave him, you know — 

 hard lines on the ancient. What ? " Miss Nelly de Vere, 

 nee Baggs, who has a part in the extravaganza, is in a 

 great state of excitement, we notice, directly she catches 

 sight of him in the stalls. She sings straight at him, and 

 even goes so far as to wink at him occasionall}^ while 

 Charlie, who hasevidently been dining, applauds vigorously, 

 more especially after her walk round and breakdown in 

 the fifth scene. 



We left our young friend at his uncle's front door, 

 late as usual, just starting off for the meet. The reader 

 can imagine how he hustles his unfortunate hack 

 along. Not a soul is in sight as he pulls up at the 



