65 



for a five-pound note. We have known men pretending to hunt coun- 

 tries at their own expense, and yet actually " living out of the 

 hounds." Next to the accomplishment of that — apparently almost 

 impossible feat — comes the dexterity required for living by horse- 

 dealing. 



A little lower down in the scale comes the income derived from 

 the profession of a " go-between " — the gentleman who can buy the 

 horse cheaper than you can. This was Caingey Thornton's trade. He 

 was always lurking about people's stables, talking to grooms and 

 worming out secrets — whose horse had a cough, whose was a wind- 

 sucker, whose was lame after hunting, and so on — and had a price 

 current of every horse in the place — knew what had been given, what 

 the owners asked, and had a pretty good guess what they would take. 



Waffles would have been an invaluable customer to Thornton if 

 the former's groom, Mr. Figg, had not been rather too hard with his 

 " reg'lars." He insisted on Caingey dividing whatever he got out of 

 his master with him. This reduced profits considerably ; but still, as 

 it was a profession that did not require any capital to set up with, 

 Thornton could afford to be liberal, having only to tack on to one end 

 to cut off at the other. 



After the opening Sponge gave as they rode home with the hounds, 

 Thornton had no difficulty in sounding him on the subject. 



" You'll not think me impertinent, I hope," observed Caingey, in 

 his most deferential style, to our hero, when they met at the News'- 

 room the next day — " you'll not think me impertinent, I hope ; but I 

 think you said, as we rode home, yesterday, that you didn't altogether 

 like the brown horse you were on ? " 



" Did I? " replied Mr. Sponge, with apparent surprise ; " I think 

 you must have misunderstood me." 



" Why, no ; it wasn't exactly that," rejoined Mr. Thornton, " but 

 you said you liked him better than you did, I think ? " 



" Ah ! I believe I did say something of the sort," replied Sponge, 

 casually — " I believe I did say something of the sort; but he carried 

 me so well that I thought better of him. The fact was," continued 

 Mr. Sponge, confidentially, " I thought him rather too light-mouthed; 

 I like a horse that bears more on the hand." 



" Indeed !" observed Mr. Thornton; " most people think a light 

 mouth a recommendation." 



" I know they do," replied Mr. Sponge, " I know they do ; but I 

 like a horse that requires a little riding. Now this is too much of a 

 made horse — too much of what I call an old man's horse, for me. 

 Bullfrog, whom I bought him of, is very fat — eats a great deal of 

 venison and turtle — all sorts of good things, in fact — and can't stand 

 much tewing in the saddle ; now, I rather like to feel that I am on a 

 horse, and not in an arm-chair." 



" He's a fine horse," observed Mr. Thornton. 



