" I want to show Mr. Hieover tlie horses^ 

 Forester/^ said my friend. 



" Humph ! aristocratic and fox-hunting enough 

 as to name/^ thought I^ " if the blood was in the 

 right strain." 



Mr. Forester took from his waistcoat pocket 

 a very neat gold hunter^ to which was attached a 

 very corresponding chain fixed to the button-hole 

 and finished off by a fox^s head key. 



" It will be stable-hour^ Sir, in twenty mi- 

 nutes/^ said the lord, not valet, d^ecurie. 



" Very Avell," said my friend, taking my arm, 

 and leading me away from the hallowed precincts 

 of Mr. Forester^ s dominion, in a manner that 

 plainly showed me any advice on my part would 

 be of no avail; inasmuch as, if given to my 

 friend, he would not dare to act on it, and if 

 given to ^Ir. Forester, it would be considered 

 about as necessary (though a little more pre- 

 sumptuous on my part) as holding a candle to the 

 sun. 



" Forester is very particular," remarked his 

 master. 



" In his dress I perceive he is," said I ; " and, 

 I presume, does not often disturb its arrangement 

 by any plebeian exertion." 



But Mr. Forester was too important a per- 

 sonage for me to have passed over without proper 

 notice of his dress, which I now describe. His 



G 



