io8 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 



I — don't think I like the look of this horse. Jack. We'll try 

 some other, I think; " and 'Honest Edward,' rather astonished, 

 passed on to a box at the other end of the stable. 



" Good-looking young horse this, and as good as he's good- 

 looking, so they tell me. I don't hunt myself, so of course I 

 can't say, but my man he tells me this is a surprisin' horse 

 with hounds." 



"Oh, really!" said Travers, dubiously. He had no 

 particular fancy for ' surprisin' ' horses ; in fact, he enter- 

 tained the very strongest preference for quiet ones. 



" Strip this horse," said the dealer to an attendant satellite, 

 and the clothing was taken off a very good-looking bay, with 

 black points. A well-topped horse, with legs like bars of 

 steel, a grand shoulder with great girth and power visible 

 everywhere, he looked a hunter all over. Jack gazed at him 

 spell-bound with admiration. 



" Can we see him out '? " he asked. 



' Honest Edward ' slightly raised his hat and scratched his 

 head, as though not quite prepared with an answer to the 

 query. 



" We — ell, you see, now, as to that horse — you see, I'm 

 half afraid of taking him out of the stable to-day. Horse 

 has had a narsetty cold, on him — a real narsetty cold, it is 

 — for a fortnight, and he's hardly, as you may say, got rid 

 of it yet. I should be a'most afraid for you to gallop or jump 

 him just yet." 



" Touched in the wind," said Jack to himself, as they 

 turned away. "Now here's a neat, cobby-looking, little 

 black. Let's have him out, Mr. Fobbs." 



" Certainly, sir, certainly," replied that worthy, with 



