i6 OCCASIONAL HAPPY THOUGHTS. 



and you'll be nearer the mark. Two hundred guineas, Sir, 

 they want for that animal." 



I am incredulous. 



" It's a fact," he says, getting out, having to change car- 

 riages ; " and if you're going in for horseflesh now-a-days, 

 by Jove ! you'll have to pay for it. Good day." 



Happy Thought.— JjQtier not "go in for horseflesh." 

 But my Casual Acquaintance must be mistaken. By the 

 way, I'll find out who he is. If he isn't a sporting man at 

 all, what on Earth should he know about it? By this time 

 there's no one to ask. He always carries, I notice, a hand- 

 bag. If I might look into his hand-bag, I might find out 

 who he is. He can't be a bag-man, because he's invariably 

 first-class. 



Happy Thought. — He's evidently a Hand-bag-man, which, 

 of course makes all the difference. 



After this I meet five persons, each within a quarter of an 

 hour of the other, who all, being consulted by me upon this 

 engrossing subject, put on an air of extreme vexation, and 

 express their wish that they'd only known it three weeks 

 or even a fortnight ago, when, it appears, several people 

 living in remote districts were so anxious to get rid of horses 

 (always exactly the sort I wanted, of course) that they'd rather 

 have given them away than been obliged to keep them. 



" And now .^" I asked, hoping against hope. 



"Ah ! now I^'' they all said, and shook their heads, as if 

 these opportunities were lost for ever — as, indeed, they were. 



