CAPTAIN SHABBYHOUNDE 255 



He once had a horse that he sold six times over in 

 one year, receiving from each purchaser a bonus for 

 taking him back. This was Lambkin, as he was 

 erroneously called, though we really believe the name 

 had considerable influence in selling him. Lambkin 

 was a finely-shaped black horse about fifteen two, or 

 rather under, a size adapted for hacking, hunting, or 

 harness. The Captain either got him in a gambHng 

 debt, or from some officer ordered to join his regi- 

 ment, we don't know whether. Suffice it to say, that 

 in the season of sea kale and spring captains, Shabby- 

 hounde cast up at Market Harborough with Lambkin 

 in his stud. Now Lambkin really was a nice-looking 

 horse — he was what we may call a creditable, 

 gentlemanly-looking horse, in contradistinction to 

 the blemished, iron-marked, knuckling, round-legged 

 Tom and Jerry seedy-looking screws that generally 

 composed his stud. With any man but Shabby- 

 hounde upon him, the horse would have looked like 

 a hundred and fifty or two hundred guineas, but 

 spring captains are always suspicious creatures — such 

 a spring captain as Shabbyhounde — suspicious beyond 

 all conception. Many people looked at the horse, 

 many admired him, many talked of him, and if 

 Shabbyhounde had not been at Harborough before, 

 he would very soon have sold him. As it was, he 

 rather hung fire — everybody was satisfied that there 

 was a screw loose somewhere, and most industriously 

 they set to work to discover it. One thought his 

 carcass was too big for his legs, another that his wind 

 wasn't good — that he didn't cough as he ought, a 

 third that there was an enlargement of the near knee, 

 a fourth thought he detected incipient spavin, a fifth 

 a little warmth in the off leg, a sixth that his feet 

 didn't match, a seventh suspected incipient cataract, 

 while the herd of greenhorns condemned his standing 

 over legs, which were in fact one of the best points 

 about him. We are not like Luke Lieall, the 



