20 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 



with his master that same day he took his revenge upon him 

 by ' crabbing the deal,' coolly informing the intending 

 purchaser that the horse was unsound in his wind — which was 

 a lie. Mr. Jaggett, the dealer, had brought over no less than 

 four different animals without success. But some three or 

 four days after Mr. Yarboro's call, recorded in the last 

 chapter, one of the gorgeous men-servants came up to his 

 young master's bedroom (it was only 11.30 a.m., so, naturally 

 that gentleman was still seeking repose), and informed him 

 that a man in livery was waiting at the hall-door with a 

 horse from the Honourable Mr. Crocker's stables, for him to 

 see. Mr. Binkie, truth to tell, was hardly disposed to the 

 trying of new horses, for he had not gone to bed overnight till 

 very late, and the — the — er — well, the lemon in the whisky 

 and water had caused his head to ache and his mouth to feel 

 like the back of a Latin Grammar this morning. But with a 

 mighty effort he pulled himself together, and feebly murmured 

 that if the groom would wait half-an-hour, he would be down 

 and look at the animal. The man, with a pitying smile, left 

 the room just as Mr. Jack Dashwood entered it. 



"What, ho, my merry Travers," he exclaimed, "rather 

 thick-in-the-clear to-day ? Got a kick in your gallop, eh ? 

 Buck up, my gay and festive sportsman, never say die ; you'll 

 be as right as rain when you've had a dash at the tub, and a 

 strong Bohea." 



Travers, from under the bedclothes, groaned feebly. His 

 friend's hilarity was extremely displeasing to him under the 

 circumstances. One always does feel more or less injured 

 when somebody else is extremely well, and we ourselves are 

 ' feeling like death.' 



