2 26 SKETCHES IX THE HUNTING FIE ID. 



the inside of the establishment did not look by any 

 means inviting, I lit a cigar and lounged about outside, 

 awaiting the advent of Smithers. 



He didn't arrive ; and in the course of wandering to 

 and fro I found myself against a window. Restlessly 

 I was just moving away when a voice inside the room 

 repeated the name of Blankucy. I started, and, turning 

 round, looked in. It was a small apartment, with a 

 sanded floor, and two persons Avere seated on chairs 

 before the fire conversing earnestly. One of them was 

 a middle-aged man, clad in a brown great-coat with a 

 profusion of fur collar and cuffs which it would scarcely 

 be libel .to term " mangy." He was the owner of an 

 unwholesome, pasty face, decorated as to the chin with 

 a straggling crop of bristles which he would have 

 probably termed an imperial. 



" Wust year I ever 'ad ! " he exclaimed (and a broken 

 pane in the window enabled me to hear distinctly). 

 " The Two Thousand 'orse didn't run ; got in deep over 

 the Derby ; H ascot was hawful ; and though I had a 

 moral for the Leger, it came to grief." 



His own morals, judging from his appearance and 

 conversation, appeared to have followed the example of 

 that for the Leger. 



" I can't follow your plans about this race down here, 

 though," said his companion, a younger man, who 

 seemed to hold the first speaker in great awe despite his 

 confessions of failure. "Don't you say that this young 

 Blankney's horse can't get the distance ? " 



