The Best Fourteen-Hander in England. 189 



solved, I did not, as most prudent men would have done, tear my- 

 self away from him, but, merely answering his question as to 

 whether " I wanted to buy the best fourteen-hand pony in Eng- 

 land ?" with, " Not if it be anything like the last I had of you, 

 Joe," I quietly waited to hear his explanation of the mysterious 

 sentence. 



Before, however, I proceed with my story, I must beseech the 

 reader's patience, and travel back over a period of more than a 

 twelvemonth, in order to explain why I answered Mr. Cox in the 

 manner I did, and I trust this digression will be pardoned, be- 

 cause it touches upon rather an eventful episode in my life, and one 

 which, if it had turned out right, would probably have given quite 

 a different influence to my future career. It will at least describe 

 a race such as very few of my readers have probably ever ridden 

 in, and, moreover, a race for a heavy stake a wife and a fortune. 



Early one fine morning in the beginning of May, in the year 

 preceding the meeting just alluded to, I espied Mr. Joe ride up to 

 my gate, leading one of the very prettiest little chestnut mares it has 

 ever been my lot to cast eyes upon. That she was as handsome as a 

 picture, I could see with my own eyes, although I might be a little 

 sceptical as to whether she strictly answered Joe's description ; for 

 according to his account she was such a treasure as no man could 

 hope to possess more than once in his life, arid very few, even that. 

 According to his account, she was nearly thorough-bred, perfectly 

 sound and free from vice ; and had for the last two years been carry- 

 ing a young lady, who, however, had become too consumptive to be 

 allowed horse exercise, and who was therefore reluctantly obliged 

 to part with her favourite pony. It was beautiful to listen to Joe's 

 pathetic account of the parting between this " dear young lady" and 

 her little pet. He declared it was solely on account of his solemn 

 Dromise that he would put her into the hands of a man who would 

 use her kindly, that he ever became possessed of her ; and it was 

 with the laudable wish to keep his promise that he had troubled 

 himself to bring her over a matter of twenty-five miles for me to 

 look at. And the cunning rascal wound up with, " I had you in 



