A RUM DISTILLER. 143 



Carlo looked very much like wondering what the devil 

 he meant. " Hie away ! " cries his master in a louder 

 tone. Carlo looked up in his face, and wagged his 

 tail. His master said he was a timid, meek dog. He 

 patted, and encouraged him. Carlo, in gratitude, 

 saluted him with his dirty paws on the white cords. 

 " Hie on, good dog ! " Carlo did now poke his nose 

 into a furrow, very much as if he was looking for a 

 mouse. My poor City friend could stand it no lon- 

 ger : he flew into a rage ; and while I was bursting 

 my sides laughing, he gave Carlo a whack with his 

 gun, who in return gave an awful yell, and then incon- 

 tinently took to his scrapers, topped the field-gate 

 like a greyhound, and on our going to the hedge to 

 look after the valuable animal, we saw him half a mile 

 on the London high road at top speed ; and as it was 

 but twenty miles to town, I doubt not but Carlo r got 

 safe back to his kennel in the City Koad before even- 

 ing. I had asked a couple of friends to meet my City 

 acquaintance ; but spared him by not even mentioning 

 Carlo. However, he could not stand the thing. My 

 boy had told the story in the stable and kitchen, and 

 off the Epping hero went the next morning. I dare 

 say I lost a good thing by not seeing him go with 

 hounds. 



Now, though I am no shot, I know when a pointer 

 behaves well or not ; and as Carlo certainly afforded 

 me ten times the amusement I should have enjoyed 

 from the best dog Osbaldeston ever shot over, it is 

 ungrateful in me to say a word in his dispraise. But 

 I must candidly allow, that, if I did shoot, he was 

 not just the sort I should like. Head was wanting 

 in this case, either in the dog or his tutor, or both. 



With many apologies to my Readers for this digres- 



