The Sport of Our <Ancestors 



customer like you have that horse ior jefty. Fefty guineas, 

 or even pounds J sir, to you. I got him in a bad debt, you see, 

 sir ; — it 's Bible truth I 'm telling ye ; — and he only stood 

 me in forty-seven pounds ten, and a sov. I gave the man 

 as brought him over. He 's not everybody's horse, Mr. 

 Sawyer, that isn't ; but I think he '11 carry you remarkably 

 well.' 



' I don't think I '11 ever give him a chance,' was the 

 rejoinder. ' Come, Job, we 're burning daylight ; let 's 

 go and have a look at the crack.' 



One individual had been listening to the above conver- 

 sation with thrilling interest. This was no less a personage 

 than Barney, Mr. Sloper's head groom, general factotum, 

 and rough-rider in ordinary — an official whose business it was 

 to ride anything at anything, for anybody who asked him. 

 He was a little old man, with one eye, a red handkerchief, 

 and the general appearance of a post-boy on half-pay ; a 

 sober fellow, too, and as brave as King Richard ; yet had 

 he expressed himself strongly about this said brown horse, 

 the previous evening, to the maid-of-all-work. ' He 's the 

 wussest we 've had yet,' was his fiat. ' It 's nateral for 

 'em to fall ; but when he falls, he 's all over a chap till he 's 

 crumpled him.' So his heroic heart beat more freely when 

 they adjourned to the neighbouring box. 



Mr. Sloper threw the door open with an air. It must 

 be confessed he seldom had one that would bear, without 

 preparation, a minute inspection from the eye of a sports- 

 man ; but he knew this was a sound one, and made the most 

 72 



