124 William Waggleton. 



once a year, so why shouldn't the old muff enjoy himself 

 eh ? So let's go in and pitch into his pop." 



The breakfast over at last, to Lord Daisyfield's great 

 delight, the hounds proceed to draw for a fox in a plan- 

 tation in the park, where old Yellowboy says he knows 

 there is one. He ought to know certainly, seeing that 

 the noble animal in question only arrived the night before, 

 and was only turned out half an hour ago. Sure enough, 

 scarcely are the hounds thrown into covert when a halloa 

 from the far end proclaims the fox is away. Three times 

 round the park the poor half-stupefied brute goes. At 

 last he makes for the kitchen-garden, to the head- 

 gardener's great annoyance, and finally takes refuge in 

 one of the hot-houses. Old Yellowboy is delighted — like 

 the little dog in the nursery rhyme — to see such sport, 

 and the farce ends by the unfortunate fox being lugged 

 on to the lawn and broken up, amidst the plaudits of 

 Yellowboy and Co. — the band, who are now in a glorious 

 state of champagne, celebrating the event by a grand 

 performance of "See the conquering hero comes." A 

 thick voice in the crowd here cries out for three cheers 

 for Muster Yellowboy, and these having been given, that 

 worthy acknowledges them with a series of bows. He 

 would like very much to make a speech, but that Lord 

 Daisyfield, who has had more than enough of it all, bids him 

 good-bye just as he is clearing his throat to begin, and 

 trots his hounds off best pace to Cocklefield Spinney, to 

 try for a fresh fox. 



To return to our friend and the Banker. They met 

 one fine day at the usual weekly gathering of the magis- 

 trates, and, as they were discussing different matters in 

 their private room, it chanced that William Waggleton 



