William Waggleton. 125 



asked if anyone had a pencil. '' Who's got a pencil ? '* 

 quoth he. " Here is one, very much at your service," 

 replied Mr. Yellowboy, in his pompous manner from 

 the top of his black and white checked, stiff-looking neck- 

 cloth. '' Here is one, very much at your service, Mr. 

 Waggleton," handing him, as he spoke, an elaborate, 

 heavy-looking gold one, with his crest on a large onyx 

 on the top. '' Pah ! " said William, with a sneer, taking 

 it up and sniffing it with an air of the deepest disgust. 

 '' Pah ! stinks of Lombard-street ! — stinks of gold ! Who 

 the dickens would use a thing like that ? Here, give 

 me another, somebody." 



Mr. Yellowboy turned pale with anger. " Well, Mr. 

 Waggleton," said he, after a pause, " after that speech, 

 either you or I must leave the room." 



''Very good. You leave it then," rejoined Waggleton. 

 ''I shant, that's very certain." And the infuriated 

 banker, whose hair stood on end at such behaviour to 

 one of his importance and wealth, actually did leave the 

 room there and then, to the secret delight of the other 

 beaks. 



Another of his great delights is to get hold of some 

 stranger out hunting who can't ride much, and pilot him. 

 And pilot him he will too, to such a tune that the novice may 

 think himself remarkably lucky if he gets through the 

 day without coming to grief, for William Waggleton is a 

 consummate horseman himself, and seems to be able to 

 creep and crawl (if he can't jump over) through any con- 

 ceivable place. He wears out hunting a high-collared 

 scarlet coat, a large yellow handkerchief is folded round 

 his neck, and he sports a velvet cap. There is not a field 

 or a fence in the country that he does not know. In a 



