CHAPTER VII 



THE WHIPPER-IN 

 ' ' High o'er thy head wave thy resounding whip. " 



SOMERVILLE. 



VERACIOUS French 

 gentleman, writing on 

 England, observed that 

 we were a cruel, melan- 

 choly nation, for in all 

 parts of London he saw 

 written up, "Horses taken 

 in to bait" and "Funerals 

 performed here." Doubt- 

 less the same observing 

 traveller would assert 

 that people keep hounds, 

 and servants to do nothing but whip them. The 

 name, "Whipper-in," certainly favours the supposition, 

 at all events as much as the sign-boards did the con- 

 clusions Johnny Crapaud drew from them. Indeed 

 others than Frenchmen might be of that opinion, 

 especially if they heard the noisy, clamorous ratings 

 that sometimes attend a half civilized scratch pack. 

 There is nothing, perhaps, so distinguishing as the 

 silent quiet manner of the well - appointed, well- 

 disciplined establishment, and the roaring, cut-them- 

 into-ribbons style of the omnium gatherum, refuse, 

 tear away, tear-'em up town pack. 



