The Harkaway Hunt Steeplechases, i6 



J 



ever since them blessed beaks come down on me, that I 

 h'am. Lor' bless me, if the Dook was 'ere, and I h'asked 

 'im for a fiver, why, he'd say, ' A fiver ! ' he'd say, * why, 

 d — n yer eyes, Billy,' he'd say, 'here's a pony for yer,' 

 that he would." 



'^ Well, d — n your eyes, Billy," politely rejoins Wild- 

 oats, who is quite equal to the occasion, '' here's a 

 sovereign for you, then. I aint a dook, don't you see ; 

 sich is life, eh, William ? " and Billy Daw, pocketing his 

 sovereign, a grin pervading his unprepossessing counten- 

 ance, moves off in quest of a fresh victim. But we must 

 jog on or we shall be late. The races are held about two 

 miles from the town. The course is nearly all grass, and 

 under the great Mr. Shrub's superintendence a temporary 

 stand has been erected, so that all is thoroughly business- 

 like. A piece of ground enclosed with hurdles does duty 

 for a paddock; there is a steward's stand, a saddling-bell — 

 in short, everything all complete ; and Lord Daisyfield's 

 huntsmen and whips keep the course. 



All the world and his wife seem to have collected to- 

 gether. Such eating and drinking is going on, such 

 chaffing and laughing. Tom Chirpington has got a tent 

 pitched, to say nothing of the luncheon on the top of the 

 drag, and it's — ''Do have another plover's ^gg, Miss 

 Brown," ** You bet me a dozen gloves against Mr. Wild- 

 oats ; that's it, is it not, Captain Smith ? " " I'll take a 

 wing, please." ''What, Jack, you here! Come up, old 

 man. How's the mare ? Take a pull at the cup. Put some 

 more cura^oa in. Where's the sherry? " " Take you two 

 ponies to one." *' Jolly day, ain't it ? " — all over the 

 place. 



The numbers are up for the Innkeepers* Plate, and 



