146 Ralph Duckworth of the Wild Farm. 



have known better, who, putting up a lot of horses at 

 Bulletron, was in the habit of mounting all his rough 

 riders on them, and sending them out with my lord's 

 hounds, with orders to ride over everything they came 

 across, with a view to sale. The farmers very naturally 

 objecting to having their fences broken down and their 

 wheat ridden over when hounds were not running, com- 

 plained to Lord Daisyfield, who spoke to the dealer on 

 the subject, declaring if it happened again he would take 

 his hounds home. Mr. Dealer, being a bumptious young 

 cockney of the most aggressive type, was not a bit put 

 out, and fairly staggered my lord by his impudence. 

 There was no alternative but to set Ralph Duckworth at 

 him. This he did, the result being a slanging match 

 between the two, in which, we are bound to say, the 

 cockney dealer got far and away the best of it. Ralph, 

 however, was not to be done. Later on in the day, the 

 dealer himself was riding leisurely at a fence, when who 

 should cannon up against him (accidentally, of course) but 

 Ralph Duckworth, with the effect of nearly sending him 

 horse and all into the ditch. A fresh interchange of 

 compliments took place, the affair ending by the irate 

 farmer fetching his adversary such a crack between the 

 eyes with the butt-end of his hunting-whip, as caused 

 that worthy to vacate his saddle and roll on to mother 

 earth in an insensible condition. The victory was a 

 decisive one, for the dealer removed his horses from 

 Bullerton shortly after, and Lord Daisyfield's hunt con- 

 sequently knew him no more. 



Let us now bid adieu to our old friend ; and long may 

 it be before that stout old figure in the roomy black frock- 

 coat, very open at the chest, the Bedford cords, and the 



