CAPTAIN SHABBYHOUNDE 275 



deal with Mr. Milksop, therefore he saved Strutt the 

 expense of a " rule to compute " by not returning any 

 answer to the letter. 



The showman will now change the shade, and the 

 intelligent and accommodating reader will have the 

 kindness to accompany us to the "Cow" at Dun- 

 church. 



It was midday, and Mr. Strutt was airing his little 

 round stomach before the inn door, indulging in one 

 of his master's Havannahs. The weather was still 

 fine, rather unseasonably so if anything, and Strutt, 

 like a good servant, was also airing a cut tartan velvet 

 waistcoat of his master's, which fitted him marvellously 

 well, considering the disparity of their corporations. 

 He had also a shirt with a very finely-worked front 

 on, and three diamond studs secured by a diminutive 

 chain down the middle. Altogether he looked as full 

 of beans and consequence as man could possibly do, 

 a gentleman that none but a public body — the Bank 

 of England, South Sea House, or some such estab- 

 lishment, could purchase, if taken at his own valuation. 

 What a contrast to the lean, haggard, lank-haired, 

 one-eyed man coming up on a worn-out pony with 

 the redoubtable Lambkin in his hand. The old, 

 napless, seen-better-days looking hat of the stranger 

 is put out of all countenance by the spic-and-span, 

 fresh-from-the-band box, blooming-looking affair on 

 the well-anointed curls of the smoker. "Well to do " 

 must the man be who turns out a new tile in February, 

 tempting not only the snow, but Jupiter Pluvius. 

 This, too, Strutt did, in spite of the redoubtable 

 Moore having prophesied in his wonderful weather 

 column, " Now dull with frequent downfall." Strutt, 

 of course, found his own clothes, and affected a sort 

 of mixture of the foreigner and the country gentleman. 

 Not so the stranger, whose seedy old drab coat and 

 broad blue-and-white striped livery waistcoat, put all 

 idea of concealment of servitude out of the question, 



