142 IRiMmj IRecollcctious ant) Uxxvt Stories 



rather surprised me, as we had had a good day, and 

 the mare had carried him well. I asked him, 

 " What's the matter ?" 



He immediately answered : " I have been in- 

 sulted." 



"What do you mean ?" I inquired. 



Then he told me what had happened. He went 

 to the inn at Tilton, and whilst waiting- in the stable 

 an occasional ostler, a bucolic who did duty on hunt- 

 ing days, said, on seeing- someone pass by, '' Is that 

 Captain Powell ?" and also asked him for information 

 about several other gentlemen who rode past. My 

 friend, who was rather " starchy," had got himself 

 up in the very best style he possibly could, having 

 on a new black Melton cloth coat, with monogram 

 buttons, and a blue-and-white striped waistcoat, 

 which evidently the makeshift ostler had mistaken 

 for livery. As my friend hadn't condescended to 

 answer, the chap at last said to him, " I suppose you 

 are waiting for your governor, then, are you .'*" This 

 was the grievance my friend was suffering from. 

 As we had our dinner, I consoled him as best I 

 could, but, naturally, he begged of me not to men- 

 tion it. 



Just before I finished this tale, Sam Mordan re- 

 marked, "What a funny thing! I will just tell you 



