174 The Great Presentation Day. 



Bess, the retriever, who was fast asleep in front of the 

 fire. " By Jingo, I've got it ! We'll have a drag ! So 

 we will ! A drag ! The very thing, of course. They 

 never find at Old Money-bag's (as he irreverently called 

 Mr. Yellowboy). Nobody cares either on such an occa- 

 sion if they do or not, besides which everyone will 

 have their skins full of pop ; and won't they ride ! Oh, 

 my eye, my eye ! what a lark it will be ! " and th^ 

 depraved young man rang the bell for a brandy and soda, 

 and threw himself on the sofa in an ecstasy of delight. 

 Over another weed he very soon arranged all his plans, 

 and before his dressing bell rang he had got everything 

 as nearly pat as possible. 



'* Who should he get to run with the drag ? Why long 

 Tom Springer, one of his uncle's under-keepers, would be 

 the very man. He knew he could run like a lamplighter. 

 Yes, he'd be the very chap — would know every inch of 

 the ground, too. What a lark it would be, to be sure ! " 

 and he went off to dress for dinner, as happy as a king. 



The House of Yellowboy is, indeed, in an uproar, and 

 the banker is in a fever of excitement. His lacqueys have 

 got their State liver}'" on — white coats with blue small 

 clothes and pink silk stockings, and are running up against 

 each other, sending their powder flying about in so doing 

 in every direction. The stout butler is perfectly crimson 

 in the face with his exertions, and looks more like apoplexy 

 every moment. 



Our Croesus has certainly done the thing well, for in 

 the dining room is set out a truly magnificent breakfast. 

 Everything the heart of man — or stomach of man, I 

 should say — can possibly desire is there. The sideboard 



