INTERVIEW WITH JORROCKS'S GHOST 361 



" No, it's the fashion that 'as done it ! " said my 

 visitor siadly. " The King don't 'unt now, more's the 

 pity, though no one looked better than he did in his 

 bit o' pink when Charles Payne 'unted the Pytchley ; 

 but the Royalties seem more on for shootin' than 

 'untin' now. 'Owever, though fashion keeps the red 

 coat out of the field, it flourishes in the ball-room, 

 where ingenious youth, though he dresses like a rat- 

 catcher out 'untin', now swaggers about in scarlet 

 with facings of warious colours to catch the heyes o' 

 the gals, who are supposed to be unable to resist the 

 red. But I blames the gals, too, mind you ! Not 

 'cos they don't turn out properly, for they're just the 

 ones that does. 'Ow smart they do look ! What neat 

 'abits, what shinin', braided 'air coiled away beneath 

 a glossy silk 'at or saucy bowler ! See the carefully 

 folded, snow-white ties with their pretty pins, and 

 twig a fairish glimpse of a 'ighly polished boot showin' 

 under the skirt ! 'Ow smart and 'ow workmanlike ! 

 Wot a contrast to 'arf the men ! But I blames 'em, 

 'cos if they liked they could quickly make the lads clap 

 on the glorious old red coats they all admires. 



" But I tell you what, my friend," said Mr. Jorrocks, 

 bending forward earnestly, " if you comes in time 

 to 'unt with us (as I 'opes you will), you'll see no 

 khakis in the Helysian fields ! Some black coats no 

 doubt are wisible, for we have plenty o' parsons comin' 

 out — Harchbishops (Harchangels, I means). Jack 

 Russell, Froude, Kingsley, and cetera. And of course, 

 the Duke's men sticks to the blue and buff — nothing 

 will change them from that. But scarlet's the rule, 

 and no one complains of the 'eat." 



