The Best F our te en-Han der in England. 213 



as he said, ^'searching for me higb and low." He had heard thau 

 I had been seen in company with "that Joe Cox," and could not 

 rest easy till he had seen me. However, he was glad that he had 

 found me, and we sat down together. I hardly knew how to break 

 my speculation to him, for I could not help thinking I had 

 acted a little rashly 3 and although if the party were to decamp in 

 the night, taking the mare with them, 50/. would cover all my 

 losses, still ^ol. was a risk, and if I should be done by Joe a second 

 time, I should never hear the end of it. I therefore fidgeted a 

 little in my chair, thinking how I could best open the ball. 1 have 

 no doubt many of my younger readers will know exactly how I felt, 

 for how few of us who have reached the age of twenty have not 

 had some little matter or other in our time to break to " the 

 governor," and hardly knew how to do it ! My old friend was not 

 in a ver}^ good humour, he had found the field would be much 

 stronger than he anticipated, and as the Cambridge pony had 

 already beaten The Rejected, and it was considered by most good 

 judges that the little Belper nag could give the Cambridge mare 

 41b. and a beating, and as it was whispered that the Wiltshire pony 

 could run away from either of them, he saw little chance of bring- 

 ing the cup home this time. I told him exactly what I had done. 

 He was not a man of many words, but what he did say were to the 

 purpose. He told me plainly that I was not only born a fool, but 

 that I should die one j and if I went on in this way, the sooner we 

 closed accounts the better. I knew the old man's passion would 

 be of short duration, and I moreover knew that he was a true 

 friend. So I merely observed " this was quite a private matter 

 of my own, and I did not wish him to have any share in it." 

 For the first time in our lives we parted unfriendly. He hopped 

 off on some business of his own, and I went to join the parlour 

 company, to hear Mr, Cox sing " A southerly wind and a cloudy 

 sky," "Tom Moody," and "The death of Nelson," in a style 

 which few, even professionals, could beat. He was in great force 

 on this occasion, and we spent a capital evening. 



I did not see my old friend again that nighty but about six in the 



