His Own Petard 95 



off into a burst of laughter, if the yaw-haw by which he 

 gave expression to his merriment can be so described. 

 Perkinson had the wit to see that abuse w^as worse than 

 useless. He had struggled to an upright position once, 

 but the attempt to take a stej) had thrown him down 

 again, nor did he perceive in his state of confusion in 

 which direction firm ground was to be gained. 



' Whoy ! ' said the yokel, ' yow've gotten inter bog ! ' 

 an all too obvious discovery. 



' Look here ! Help me and my horse out, and I'll 

 give you half a sovereign,' Perkinson, utterly defeated, 

 at length called out, and this put a new aspect on the 

 affair in the rustic's eyes. He ran and got a hoe, the 

 handle of which he proffered, but it was not nearly long 

 enough. A rope was the only thing likely to be useful, 

 and he ran to fetch one, splashing up water as he went 

 in a manner which explained much as to the state of 

 the field, whilst Perkinson ignominiously sat down and 

 felt himself sinking deeper and deeper as he sat. At 

 length the rope was brought, a second rustic helping to 

 carry it ; the master, and finally the horse, were rescued, 

 and the half-sovereign, with half-a-crown for his assistant, 

 paid. Breathing out vague threats of vengeance— for 

 it was not easy to see who was to be blamed — Perkin- 

 son set off walking homewards and leading his horse, 

 his damp and sticky garments clinging to him, feel- 

 ing, it may be assumed, much as an eel feels in a 

 pond, only the eel probably likes it, and Perkinson cer- 

 tainly did not. Presently he thought that he might as 

 well get on his horse. One stirrup-leather, the near one, 

 was gone, left behind in the bog, but he managed to 

 clamber up into the saddle and so reached home, a 

 spectacle which vastly astonished the groom who took 



