ABOUT BUYING A HORSE. 73 



For " Drunk as a Fiddler," I would substitute, allitera- 

 tively, " Tight as a Trombone-player," or would supplement 

 it, without the alliteration, with " Screwed as a Flautist." 



The Sort-of- Farmer notices me making notes. " You're 

 writing a prescription ? " he asks. 



" A prescription ? No. What for ? " 



" O, I thought you might be. Your Guv'nor gave us one 

 t'other morning, an' I was going to tell you as 'twarn't hardly 

 of no use." Here Mr. Trott steps up. 



" Your young man don't seem to make much out of the old 

 cow," says the Sort-of-Farmer. 



He has mistaken me for Mr. Trott's assistant. 



The error being explained, the man only laughs, doesn't 

 apologise, and says, " I thought he didn't seem to know 

 much about a Cow." 



Whereat Mr. Trott smiles too. 



Now, here would be a first-rate opportunity for a repartee, 

 and I should make it, if I didn't, luckily, look well ahead, 

 and realise what he^d say in reply. In one flash of thought I 

 figure to myself the dialogue thus : — 



Farmer {jeeringl}'). You don't know much about Cows .'' 



Myself {J)oiiitedly). No ; I know more about Donkeys. 



\Mcaiiing, that I know him, the Farmer, to be a 

 Donkey.'] 



Farmer. Ah ! I should ha' thought as that was more in 

 your line. 



And what could I reply to this ? There ends the repartee. 

 You can't have anything after this. It would be an anti- 

 climax. Consequently, as it stands, the Farmer would get 



