'60 CONFESSIONS OP A HORSE DEALER. 



aye, and cart, too ; but he'll never tell any of his neigh- 

 bours how much he loses ; it is only the amount of his 

 gains which reaches their ears. But by far the greater 

 part of this assemblage is made up of horse-copers and 

 their confederates, who soon find out which are buyers 

 and which mere gazers. 



" Now, gentlemen, favour me with an offer for this 

 fashionable and most useful chesnut gelding," said the 

 auctioneer, looking anxiously round the motley crowd ; 

 "but no answer is made at present. 



The poor devil of a horse stands quivering every 

 cubic inch of his body in front of the rostrum, and the 

 auctioneer being the most prominent object within 

 range of his eyes, which are so expressive of anxiety 

 from fear of the whip in the hands of that lop-eared 

 specimen of human kind, in tight gaiters and capacious 

 inexpressibles, standing behind him, that, like a half 

 throttled cat, they appear ready to start out of their 

 sockets, or burst. 



" Run him on a few yards, Joe," said the auctioneer. 

 The bullet-head of Joe (covered with a skull cap) is 

 nodded ; and Lop-ears flourishes his cat-gut flag, drop- 

 ping the cord with a sharp cut on the point of the 

 shoulder. "Hooroo! hooroo ! Care! care!" Bullet- 

 liead, the runner, chucks up the horse's head with the 

 deep-levered curb bridle, raising, at the same time, his 

 left hand before the horse's eyes, to check his pace, 

 and thereby make him bend his knees, and exhibit a 

 false display of action. Lop-ears, with the whip, keeps 



