The Trotter. i 53 



old banqueting-room, which now served for the sitting-room and 

 parlour, left me. The boy would not part with the whip, so I let 

 him carry it away with him. 



It was a splendid room, and the wainscot and polished floor were 

 altogether of old British oak, now nearly as black as ebony. This 

 room was in tolerable repair, for it lay in the best wing of the 

 house ; and as the chamber above had been converted by Sam into 

 a granary, the ceilings were sound. The walls were garnished with 

 old-fashioned portraits of Sam's ancestors and other celebrities of 

 bygone ages. Mighty bold did those old knights look, as they 

 frowned down upon me, many of them clad in mail, with his 

 gloved hand upon his sword hilt. And mighty fine were those high- 

 born dames in ruff and bodice, who with meaningless eyes seemed 

 to follow me wherever I went. But there was not a knight or 

 lady in any one of those old frames who for proud, manly, real 

 English good looks and bearing, could compare with the two that 

 seemed fairly to stand out of the canvas at the far end of the room, 

 representing the present squire and his lady, taken as large as life, 

 at the period of their marriage. Old Morgan hung over the 

 mantelpiece j and one or two old-fahioned hunters, in the short 

 dock and crop-eared style of the last century, kept him company. 



Presently a bold, fine-looking, over-dressed female servant brought 

 in the materials for a substantial lunch, and about ten minutes later 

 the squire and his friend the captain came in. He welcomed me 

 most cordially, hoped I had made myself at home, and we sat 

 down. Mr. West was looking as fresh and handsome as ever, and 

 the way in which he went in at the cold pigeon pie and phea- 

 sant proved that his appetite was still unimpaired. It really seemed 

 as if no amount of dissipation could ever undermine that iron 

 frame. Of course we had some ale, such as you cannot get out 

 of " the shires j" and we topped oft* the heartiest lunch I had made 

 for a long time with a glass of brown sherry, of which Sam 

 remarked, " You wont find a headache in a hogshead of it." 



After lunch we went the round of the premises. It was a treat 

 to go round the stables and kennels with such a conductor as Sam 



