4 OCCASIONAL HAPPY THOUGHTS. 



I, too, look round with an air of satisfaction, as much as to 

 say to those who didn't know it before, " I'm a bit of a 

 sportsman ; I can drive, I can ride, and I'm — keep your eye 

 on me — I'm going to do quite the Country-Squire-like sort of 

 thing — I'm going to buy a horse. You'll hear Gloppin 

 mention the sort of thing, and you'll hear me close with 

 him." 



I am silent, regarding Gloppin expectantly. The guests 

 too are listening to what he's going to say next. 



He examines me critically, as if he were going to, subse- 

 quently, paint a portrait of me, from memory, half-length, the 

 remainder being cut off by the dinner-table, or write an 

 article on my personal appearance, and then he remarks, 

 " Hm ! Yes — he must be up to weight." 



"Well," I demur, pleasantly, for I feel we are getting on a 

 delicate subject, only sporting men are so fond of expressing 

 themselves roughly, and with unnecessary bluntness even 

 before ladies, " Well, of course, I couldn't ride a mere pony." 



The youngest Miss Wheeble, v/hom I have taken in to 

 dinner, and with whom I have been keeping up a gay con- 

 versation about parties, dresses, yachting, military balls, 

 cricket-matches, polo, tent-pegging, and pic-nics (all these 

 subjects under a great mental strain, being entirely foreign to 

 my usual serious line of thought connected with my seventh 

 volume of Typical Developments), smiles, and observes that, 

 of course I couldn't get any hunting on a pony. 



Happy Tho2igJit. — Good excuse, though, for not hunting. 

 Not a bad idea to keep a pony, and be always regretting he 



