254 THE HUNTING FIELD 



exhibited the sunken, dejected eye, pecuHar to stopped and 

 over-marked horses. By slackening Milksop's horse's girths 

 turning his head to the wind, rinsing out his mouth, and 

 other little attentions, the Captain was soon enabled to 

 pursue the chase on foot with his horse in his hand. 



Hunting on foot is only poor sport at best, pursued in top 

 boots lamentably poor, and the Captain was not sorry to see his 

 new acquaintance returning on the line of the run. Great was 

 his joy when the proud trophy waved over Milksop's head 

 proclaimed the glorious finish, and greater still, though more 

 suppressed, his delight at hearing that Lambkin had "carried 

 him well." 



What an opportunity was here for a man of Shabbyhounde's 

 enterprising qualities — what a field for the exercise of his 

 " insinivating " talents. A youth, as fresh and verdant as 

 a turnip-field — a splendid horse — a clear stage, and no opposi- 

 tion. Could but the Captain have had a peep at the banker's 

 book, he would indeed have been elated. That was his only 

 fear. He had once been bit by an apparent greenhorn in the 

 matter of a post obit, and he rather dreaded the innocence of 

 youth. " Nothing venture nothing gain," however, thought the 

 Captain, and he " at him "again with the virtues of his horse. If 

 ever animal had cause to be proud of the favours of a master, it 

 surely was Lambkin — Shabbyhounde did butter him up — did lay 

 it on thick. Not but that the horse deserved praise; for he was a 

 "good-un," and nothing but a "good-un," barring the little play- 

 ful propensity already related. Indeed, Shabbyhounde laid it on 

 so thick that Milksop, who was most "jolly green," thought it 

 useless asking if he would sell such a piece of perfection. The 

 consequence was the Captain was obliged to throw out the bait 

 himself, a decidedly unskilful move in the grand game of " do." 

 However, there is no help for it, where such verdancy does 

 exist, and the Captain was obliged, after sundry beatings about 

 the bush, to put it to Milksop rather pointedly " If he would 



