THE LIFE OF A HUNTER 57 



hard by. As it was, I knocked his hat off 

 and hit the end of his nose. I was surprised 

 to find that he was my owner, about three 

 o'clock the same afternoon. I had made such 

 an exhibition of my heels that with that, and 

 my extreme youth, I was knocked down to 

 him at sixty guineas. A new career now 

 opened to me, and I was sent down to Cam- 

 bridge, where my new master then was, and 

 so I commenced life at the University. My 

 owner was in Newman's stable-yard talking 

 to Tom Hill, a very stout, short, horsey 

 little man, who generally stood in the yard, 

 scolding the lads, giving orders in highly 

 persuasive language, or addressing his clients 

 as if they had given him mortal offence. As 

 I was led in, he turned to my new owner and 

 said, " Wot's this ? " and after looking at me 



