William Waggleton. 121 



to that domestic's astonishment, not to say disgust, 

 announced his intention of staying until our return, 

 which intention he carried out to the letter. 



*' The first time I ever met him — confound him ! " 

 relates old Colonel Bludyer, " was one September, sir, 

 many years ago, and I was going up to town by the after- 

 noon coach that used to run in those days from Bullerton 

 to London. Well, we stopped to take up Waggleton, 

 who was waiting by the roadside, with a pointer dog at 

 his heels, and a gun in his hand. The inside of the coach 

 was empty, so he and his dog got in. Well, sir, we were 

 going down Brockley WiW— you know Brockley Hill, and 

 what a devil of a steep hill it is, eh ? Well, we were going 

 down steadily enough, the two chestnut leaders (rum uns 

 to drive, sir, I can can tell you), for a wonder, going as 

 quiet as sheep, when, bang, bang ! went two loud reports 

 from inside the coach. Away went the horses, frightened 

 out of their wits, and no wonder. It's only a mussy we 

 weren't upset, and all killed or drowned, for there was 

 a thundering great pond at the bottom of the hill in those 

 days. It's done away with now. Well, as soon as Tom 

 HoUystick, the coachman, could stop 'em, he pulled up to 

 see what was the matter, and what do you think it was, sir ? 

 Why, that dashed fellow, Waggleton, had loosed off his Joe 

 Manton out of winder — both barrels — to clean 'em, as he 

 said; and he then had the audacity, dash him, to ask 

 what the devil we were stopping for, and told Tom to 

 look sharp and make up for lost time, as he was going to 

 the opera that night, and didn't want to be late." 



Everybody in the county, indeed, has got a story of some 

 sort to tell of our friend's sayings or doings. Even those 

 two dear old things, the Misses Primleigh, sisters of the 



