THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 113 



"Poor Tommy! what a silly fool he is to get into debt," 

 said the high falsetto. "Which is a sentiment largely in vogue 

 with all people who, like Binkie Jmiior, have more money 

 at command than they know what to do with, and conveniently 

 ignore the fact that others are not alwaj's so happily placed 

 as themselves. 



As they were sitting on the corn -bin, dangling their legs 

 at their ease, chatting and smoking, another conversation was 

 taking place over the partition of two stalls in front of them, 

 between Jack's hireling hmiter — standing well over at the 

 knees, spare of flesh, and pretty well ' tucked up ' with hard 

 work — and the new, cobb}' little black horse. As the colloquy 

 was conducted in cquinesi', it was, of course, unintelligible to our 

 two friends. We will, however, venture on an interpretation. 



"You look prett}' fat and well, young fellow!" said the 

 hireling, laying his muzzle across the top of the partition. 

 " I'm as lean as a rake, and the hunting season not yet a 

 month old." 



"Yes, but you see I've not reall}' been doing any hunting. 

 Fact is, I'm a fraud — don't jump, you know," answered the 

 new comer, chewing at a straw. 



" Eeally ! But you'll have to hunt here, you know. I 

 expect you'll be detailed (no offence to 3'our caudal appendage, 

 my friend, though it is a bit like a shaving brush) for duty 

 next hunting day. I hope you won't be as hard-worked as 

 I am." 



" Not me. Y'ou can put your last feed of Scotch oats, to a 

 handful of dusty Russians, on that ! " 



" Well, how do you work it ? I wish I knew the trick." 



" Oh, it's easy enough. I go along gaily till we come to the 



H.H. I 



