MR. ROMFORD'S 
 HOUNDS. 
 
 AUTHOR OF "HANDLEY CROSS," "SPONGE'S SPORTING 
 TOUR," "ASK MAMMA," ETC. ETC. 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY JOHN LEECH AND H. K. BROWNE. 
 
 LONDON : 
 BRADBURY, AGNEW. & CO., 8, 9, 10, BOUVERIE ST. 
 
Her 
 
 
 

 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 OUR HERO 1 
 
 THE WOMAN IN BLACK 4 
 
 A FRIEND IN NEED 8 
 
 THE SPONGE CIGAR AND BETTING-ROOMS „ 14 
 
 THE BRIGHT IDEA . 18 
 
 THE H.H., OR, HEAVYSIDE HUNT 22 
 
 GONE AWAY ! 2G 
 
 MINSHULL VERNON 29 
 
 THE H. H. HOUNDS 32 
 
 THE DEBUT 36 
 
 OAKENSHAW WOOD 39 
 
 THE TENDER PARTING ... 47 
 
 MR. GOODHEARTED GREEN 50 
 
 SWIG AND CHOWEY 54 
 
 CUB HUNTING 57 
 
 MRS. ROWLEY ROUNDING . 59 
 
 LUCY ON LEOTARD GG 
 
 THE LADY WHIPPER-IN 69 
 
 THE FRACAS 77 
 
 THE LARKSPUR HUNT IN DOUBLEIMUPSHIRE 80 
 
 THE HONORARY SECRETARY TO THE LARKSPUR HUNT .... 82 
 
 TURNING OVER A NEW LEAF 88 
 
 LUCY BAMBOOZLES THE MASTER 91 
 
 INDEPENDENT JIMMY 93 
 
 BELDON HALL 100 
 
 MRS. MUSTARD'S MISCELLANY 103 
 
 MR. PEOUDLOCK, THE KEEPER. — LORD LONNERGAN AND HIS SON, 
 
 COMMONLY CALLED THE HONOURABLE LOVETIN LONNERGAN . 108 
 
 THE INTERNAL ECONOMY OF BELDON HALL 115 
 
 GOODHEARTED GREEN AGAIN 118 
 
 MR. AND MRS. WILLY WATKINS AND MISS WATKINS . . . 124 
 
 THE MORNING CALL . 130 
 
 MR. ROMFORD'S DEBUT IN DOUBLEIMUPSHIRE 138 
 
 214509 
 
ME. FACEY EOMFOED'S HOUNDS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 OUR. HERO. 
 
 It was lucky for our friend Mr. Romford, — or Facey Romford as he 
 is sometimes familiarly called, — that there was another Mr. Romford 
 in the world of mnch the same tastes and pursuits as himself, for our 
 Mr. Romford profited very considerably by the other Mr. Romford's 
 name and reputation. In the first place they were both called Prank,* 
 and in the second place they both kept hounds ; on different principles, 
 to be sure, but still they both kept hounds, and the mere fact of their 
 doing so was very confusing. Added to this, our friend Facey being 
 of the pushing, acquisitive order, accepted the change without doubt 
 or hesitation. 
 
 We don't mean to insinuate that he went about saying "I am the 
 rich Mr. Romford, owner of Abbeyfield Park, patron of three livings, 
 J.P., D.L.," and all that sort of thing ; but if he found he was taken for 
 that Mr. Romford, he never cared to contradict the impression. Indeed, 
 if pressed, he would mount the high horse and talk patronisingly of the 
 other Mr. Romford — say he was a deuced good fellow, if not much of 
 a sportsman, and altogether pooh-pooh him considerably. To hear 
 Facey talk, one would think that he had not only persuaded himself 
 that he was the right Romford, but had made the right Romford 
 believe so too. 
 
 Of the Pacey pedigree we would gladly furnish the readers of this 
 work with some little information, but unfortunately it does not lie in 
 
 * Our friend was called Charley at school, but his real name was Francis—- 
 hones, perhaps, "Facey." 
 
 B 
 
2 mk. facey romford's hounds. 
 
 our power so to do, and for the self-same reason that prevented Nimrod 
 from detailing that of Mr. Jorrocks', namely, that we do not happen 
 to know anything. "When in his cups (which, however, is but seldom), 
 Facey has been heard to observe that he was "nobbut well bred on 
 one side cf his head." " My moother," he used to say, '•' was 
 a lady, but my fatther was a gardener." The illiberal, indeed, 
 have asserted that the parentage was pretty equal on both sides of 
 the head, for that the moother was a lady's-maid, and the fatther 
 a gardener, a union that certainly does not seem so inconsistent as 
 the other. 
 
 Be that however as it may, Facey in early life had constituted him- 
 self heir to a maternal uncle, one Mr. Francis Gilroy, a farmer in the 
 country, and a great cattle jobber in London. Gilroy was his godfather, 
 and Facey was called Francis Gilroy Romford out of compliment to 
 him. Now a cattle jobber is to the bovine world what the dealer is to 
 the horsey world, and it requires an uncommonly cute, sagacious sort 
 of chap to make a successful jobber. All this " Oncle Gilroy" was. He 
 had a pair of little penetrating beady black eyes, set in a great red- 
 faced chuckle-head, that could almost look into an animal, see what 
 sort of an interior it had, what sort of a thriver it was going to be, 
 and tell what weight it was likely to get up to. He was a capital 
 judge of stock, and had a fine discriminating genius that taught him 
 the propriety of charging a gentleman customer a good deal more than 
 a farmer. " jSTothin' like changin' your stock often," he used to say 
 to the former, which, considering that Gilroy had a commission at both 
 ends, to say nothing of very comfortable pickings in the way of luck 
 pence, and market charges, &c, in the middle, was a very judicious 
 recommendation. He was supposed to have choked more gentlemen 
 off the cattle department of farming than any other salesman going. 
 Indeed, so pleased were the graziers in one county with his perform- 
 ances in that line, that they presented him with a testimonial — a silver 
 tankard. It did not make the noise these absurdities usually do, either 
 from a lack of eloquence on the part of the chairman, or because 
 
 " This eternal blazon must not be," 
 
 but came off very quietly. 
 
 " Francis Gilroy," said the Chairman, producing a silver cup from 
 his pocket after the market dinner, and stripping it of its pink tissue 
 and whity-brown paper. "Francis Gilroy, there's the mug," handing 
 it to him. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said Gilroy, taking it, "I tkank you for the jug;" 
 
OUR HERO. 3 
 
 and so ended the ceremony. But they all knew what it meant. The 
 inscription, " Gilroy, the Farmers' Friend," told that. 
 
 Now Gilroy, who lived very economically in the country, was sup- 
 posed to have accumulated a vast deal of money, and Facey Romford, 
 who had hcen apprenticed or articled, or whatever they call it, to a 
 civil engineer, thought there was no use in his toiling and slaving too ; 
 so he gave up the theodolite, intending to wait for his uncle's shoes, 
 which Facey reckoned Gilroy would not be long in being done with. 
 And having a decided turn for sporting in all its branches, he laid him- 
 self out for it by fair means and foul, doing a little poaching when he 
 couldn't get it otherwise. And being a bit of a Vet, he generally had 
 an old horse to cobble up, on which he used to scramble after the 
 hounds, and sell when he would pass for sound. So he went on from 
 year to year, living, as Gilroy said," verra contagious to his farm," now 
 fluting to and nattering the old fellow that he would live for ever, now 
 most devotedly wishing that he would, what he called, " hop the 
 twig. " And the neighbouring farmers and people, seeing the terms 
 they were on together, put up with a good deal more trespass and non- 
 sense from Facey than they would otherwise have done. Thus Gilroy 
 increased in years and corpulence, and Facey matured to a man, each 
 trusting the other just as far as he thought right. Gilroy never said 
 in as many words to Facey, "Francis, my dear fellow, all you see here 
 and a great deal more will be yours," but he always directed his letters 
 F. Gilroy Romford, Esq., as if proud of the connection, encouraged 
 him to look after his farm in his absence, to protect his Talavera 
 wheat from Squire Gollarton's pheasants, and see that he got a fair 
 day's work out of his women people at harvest and turnip time. And 
 as there is perhaps no man so happy as an heir-apparent, Facey lived 
 on in little village lodgings, beguiling his days with his rod and his 
 gun, and his evenings with a tune on the flute, varied with mental 
 calculations as to how much Gilroy was worth. 
 
 "There must be lots of money somewhere," Facey used to say, as 
 he sat smoking his cavendish in his diminutive sitting room; "there 
 must be lots of money somewhere — bills, bonds, post obits, I U's; " 
 ■for Facey reckoned rightly, his uncle was too good a judge to put his 
 money out to ordinary interest. " Shouldn't wonder if there was twent}- 
 thousand pund," he used to say confidentially to himself. "Fancy me 
 with twenty thousand pund, boy jingo ! " 
 
 Nay, he has been known, under the influence of his third glass of 
 gin, to get it up as high as thirty thousand, on which occasions his 
 imaginings were very magnificent. He would have the best kennel of 
 pointers aud setters in the kingdoni ; and, like Mr. Sawyer, would go to 
 
 b 2 
 
4 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 the Shires with such a stud of hunters as never were seen. Money . 
 Money would be no object to him! He'd give anything for a good 
 horse ! Hope deferred never made the Romford heart sick ; on the 
 contrary, he rose with the occasion, flattering himself that the cash was 
 only accumulating.* 
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 THE WOMAN IN BLACK. 
 
 One dull winter afternoon, on which day had scarcely gained its 
 supremacy over night, as Facey Eomford was taking a stroll with his 
 dog and gun round his absent uncle's farm, — the dog down in the dell 
 on Squire Gollarton's side, Facey all right for a shot either way, — what 
 should he see but the unwonted apparition of a dark luggage-laden 
 vehicle crawling leisurely up the rutty lane leading to the house. 
 Facey stood transfixed, like a pointer to its game, regardless of Juno's 
 feathering below. 
 
 "Who have we here?" muttered he, stopping and grounding his gun 
 on his navvy-shod foot. The dingy looking vehicle went crawling on 
 as before. 
 
 "No go, there," continued Facey, as the driver now stopped and 
 descended from his box to open the last gate, which, having propped 
 back with a bit of stick that he found lying on the ground, he 
 re-mounted and drove up to the door with as much dash as he could 
 raise. Facey stood looking, and calculating how long it would be ere 
 the white horse's head re-appeared at the end of the variegated holly 
 hedge, that protected the Gilroy hereditaments from the cutting east 
 wind. Then he wondered whether the fellow would have the sense to 
 shut the gate, or would just leave it open as it was. 
 
 " Dash it, I shouldn't wonder if he was to leave it as it is," said 
 Facpy 'wutcnrng ; "these town fellows have no idea of cattle trespass, or 
 anything of that sort, and think gates are just put to divide people's 
 properties, or for larking foxhunters to leap over." So Facey looked and 
 looked, keeping one eye on the gate and the other on the old red cow, 
 who knew just as well as a Christian when there was the chance of a 
 dash at the great Scotch cabbages at the back of the garden. Still no 
 
 * For further particulars of Mr. Facey Romford's antecedents, consult "Mr. 
 Sponge's Sporting Tour," p. 345. 
 
THE WOMAN IN BLACK. 5 
 
 horse's h<jad, no vehicle appeared. "Devilish odd," said Romford, 
 staring; "must be me Oncle Gilroy with a friend. Some one prapa 
 come down to see some stock. But it's never like him to hire a fly with 
 his own gig mare only doing half day's works. Hope his friend pays for 
 it. Never do to have him wasting the inheritance in that way. Must go 
 and see," continued Facey. Whistling up Juno, and shouldering his Joe 
 Manton, he went striding away, closely followed by Juno, looking 
 somewhat disconcerted at being done out of her fun. Facey was a 
 capital hand across country, whether on foot or on horseback, and 
 soon put the intervening fields between him and the house behind 
 him. His heart beat quicker as he advanced, for he felt there was 
 something unusual in the sight. He had never seen a shut cab at his 
 uncle's before. It couldn't be that the long expected event had hap- 
 pened. Hardly, he thought. "What was all the luggage for ? However, 
 he would soon see. On he went for the purpose. Kicking the little prop 
 out from under the gate, so as to let it close on the swing, he hurried 
 round the corner, and soon had the familiar house full before him. 
 The fly was gone, gone to the stables behind. Couldn't be Oncle Gilroy, 
 he wouldn't stand that, Facey knew. !No fly-horses baited there, Red 
 Lion was the place. Hark ! sounds of mirth proceed from the parlour, 
 children's voices screaming and shouting, Barley me this, Barley me 
 that. " Oh, what a drum this will make ! " exclaimed another, thump- 
 ing away at Uncle Gilroy' s hard hat. 
 
 " "Who the deuce have we here ? " muttered Facey, now lost in aston- 
 ishment. Pushing through the partially opened sash door, he traversed 
 the passage, and presently stood in the widely opened portals of the 
 parlour. A great coarse-looking woman in deep mourning was 
 arranging her crape bonnet in the diminutive mirror above the little 
 imitation marble mantel-piece just opposite the door, while a perfect 
 sliding scale of children, all clad in black too, were romping and rioting 
 about in a way quite inconsistent with grief, — one had the Gilroy tes- 
 timonial in its hand. The lady started as she saw Romford in the 
 glass, and wheeling round turned a very brandified face, surmounted by 
 a most palpable flaxen front, full upon him. 
 
 "Who are you?" ejaculated Facey, eyeing her intently. 
 
 " And who are you ? " demanded she, putting her arms a-kimbo, 
 and staring him full in the face. 
 
 She was a great masculine knock-me-down-looking woman, apparently 
 about five-and-forty, red faced, grey eyed, with a strongish shading of 
 moustache on her upper lip. Facey trembled as he looked at her. He 
 got the creeps all over. 
 
 " Me Oncle Gilroy's not at home," at length ejaculated Facey. 
 
6 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 " Hut, you and your uncle Gilroy ! D'ye s'pose I don't know that?" 
 exclaimed she, with a horse laugh. 
 
 " "Well, hut who are you ? " demanded Facey, bristling up. 
 ""Who am I ! " retorted she. ""Who am I ! I'm the mistress of 
 ;his 'ere 'ouse," replied she; "and this is the young Squire," patting a 
 boy on the head, so painfully like Gilroy as to be perfectly ridiculous — 
 big bristly head, beady black eyes, capacious mouth, and lop ears. 
 
 The truth flashed upon Facey with terrible velocity. His uncle wad 
 dead, and had deceived him. Frightful idea ! Facey quivered all over. 
 His knock knees smote each other. It was but too true. Gilroy, 
 instead of retiring to the Eoyal Oak, or the Xing and Queen on 
 Paddington Green, there to enjoy a quiet frugal glass before turning in 
 to his seven-shilling-a-week lodgings, as he always represented to 
 Facey and his friends, had a regular establishment in the sylvan 
 retirement of Lisson Grove, St. John's "Wood, where he had reared the 
 covey of little Gilroys who now disported themselves profusely over 
 his parlour. Gilroy was dead. 
 
 "While Facey stood as it were transfixed, the lady had dived into her 
 pocket and fished up a document that Facey saw at a glance was the 
 will. " There ! " exclaimed she, flourishing it open, so as to display 
 the well-known Gilroy signature, "there's the writin's. Now have 
 you got anything for to say ? " demanded she. Facey was mute. 
 
 "I've heard of you, you nasty sneakin' mean-spirited wretch," con- 
 tinued she, " thinkin' to rob me and mine of their dues. I've eat your 
 cock fizzants and your 'ares, you nasty warmint, and laughed at your 
 folly for sendin' them ;" and thereupon she set up a chuckle that shot 
 through Facey' s every nerve. A waft of the will would almost have 
 been enough to knock him down. 
 
 Just then old Mother Meggison, the housekeeper, who had already 
 attorned to the new regime, came hurrying in with a red-hot poker to 
 light the fire, and Facey gladly availed himself of the opportunity to 
 beat a last retreat. He rushed frantically through the familiar fold 
 yard, nearly upsetting the fly-man, who was crossing with a pail of 
 water for his horse, then struck down the deep lane past the Lizzards, 
 swung through "Woodgate Marsh, and on to Ballishaw Barn, bottling 
 up his grief until he got home. Arrived at his little lodgings at Dame 
 Trotter's, he rushed up-stairs, disregarding the liver and bacon he 
 heard hissing for dinner, and entering his little partitioned-off room, 
 threw himself on the stump bed, and groaned loud and audibly. 
 
 " Oh, dear me ! Oh, dear me ! Oh, dear, what shall I do ! " Just aa 
 if he had got the stomach-ache. Then clasping his right knee with both 
 hands, as he lay on his back, he held his leg up towards the ceiling, 
 

THE WOMAN IN BLACK. 7 
 
 and apostrophised himself as follows : — " Oh, Francis Gilroy Romford, 
 moy beloved friend, you are reglarly floored — done brown! That 
 wretched old Oncle has sold you ! Oh, Francis Gilroy Romford, discard 
 the detested name of Gilroy, and be for ever after Romford only. 
 Oh, Francis Romford, Francis Romford, what are you now to do — 
 what are you now to do ? Here for years have you been feasting and 
 serving that vicious old man, sending him fish, sending him game, 
 looking after his farm, nearly breaking your wind by playing the flute to 
 him, and now — Oh, heavens, that it should ever have come to this!" 
 and thereupon relinquishing the leg, he buried his face in his hands. 
 Just then Dame Trotter, who had heard his groans and his moans, came 
 hurrying in with her never-failing specific, a glass of hot gin and 
 bitters, which Facey bid her set down on the drawers and retire. 
 Then finding he was overheard, he moderated the expressions of his 
 grief, well knowing that very little clamour would raise a troublesome 
 body of creditors about him. Taking the gin and bitters, therefore, 
 into his sitting-room, he halloaed down-stairs to Mrs. Trotter to give 
 his dogs their dinners, adding that he didn't want any himself; and 
 drawing his wooden-bottomed semicircular chair to the fire, with a foot 
 on each hob, and a pipe of tobacco, he quietly contemplated his con- 
 dition. It was very bad ; there was no denying that. Gilroy had 
 been too many for him. He now understood why he so often had 
 cattle left from one market-day to another, and which he must 
 needs stay in town to look after. The woman in black explained all 
 that. 
 
 Wicked old man, where could he expect to go? "Would surely 
 get quilted below. It was not only the money Facey had lost, — the 
 thousands and tens of thousands, — but all the fine chances of preferment 
 he had thrown away on the strength of being Gilroy's heir. He might 
 have married Susan Burtree, who was reputed to have five thousand 
 pounds, — three certainly, — with great expectations from an aunt. Miss 
 Cropsey, now Mrs. Jimmy Dobson, would have been delighted to have 
 had him ; and the rich widow Sago had set her cap at him, only she 
 as Facey said, was past mark of mouth. In the hey-day of heirship he 
 was rather particular and difficult to please. Moreover he was a pru- 
 dent Facey, and would never make up to a girl until he knew exactly 
 what she had, because — as he used to explain to the mammas, — his 
 Oncle Gilroy would be sure to disinherit him if he made an impro- 
 viden t match. So he never laid himself open to an action, or the charge 
 of having used a girl infamously. He now felt he had built too much 
 on Oncle Gilroy, and too little on himself. If he was not altogether 
 handsome, he was of goodly stature — six feet high — and there waa 
 
8 MR. FACET ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 something about him, he said, that the girls couldn't resist. But 
 perhaps the reader would rather have his portrait drawn by a more 
 impartial hand than his own. Well, then, at the time the aforesaid 
 calamity befell him, he was just turned of thirty-one, tall and muscular, 
 with a broad expansive chest, heavy round shoulders, and rather 
 knock knees. His large backward-growing -all-round-the-chin-gingery- 
 whiskered face was lit up with a pair of little roving red-lidded pig 
 eyes, that were constantly on the watch, — sideways, lengthways, 
 cornerways, all ways save frontways. He looked as if he was always 
 premeditating a parable, but somehow never produced it. Xot that he 
 was a fool — far from it, as those who had had anything to do with 
 him in the betting or horse-dealing lines could testify ; but he looked 
 like a satirist who could cut a man in two with a sarcasm, only, like a 
 generous giant, he refrained from doing so. In short, a sort of you'd- 
 better-leave-me-alone-looking man. 
 
 "Well, then, this stout strong able-bodied man, without a grey hair in 
 his head, was suddenly thrown on his beam-ends without the slightest 
 notice, or provocation on his part. A long weary apprenticeship to his 
 uncle Gilroy's fortune regularly thrown away. The position was critical, 
 for the woman in black would be sure to proclaim it, after which Facey 
 felt there would be no quietus for him. And deeply he pondered on his 
 alarming condition, and voluminous were the clouds of smoke he raised 
 in his aid. Dame Trotter's cuckoo clock chimed three before he turned 
 into bed, and the bird announced four, and the bird announced five, ere 
 he dropped off into an unquiet sleep, greatly dreading the terrors of 
 the coming dawn. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 A FKJEXD !TN NEED. 
 
 Somehow Facey Romford awoke better than he expected. The 
 reality of his position was mercifully continued to him, instead of 
 having to be gathered in disjointed fragments and put together again. 
 His quick apprehension, too, suggested a resource. 
 
 On the south side of the village of Hezelton, where Facey lived, 
 about equidistant from his uncle Gilroy's, was Puddingpote Bower, 
 the seat of Mr. Jogglebury Crowdey, or Jogglebury Crowdey, Esq.,* as 
 
 • Vide u Mr. Sponge's Sporting Tour," p. 274. 
 
A FRIEND IN NEED. 9 
 
 we suppose he ought to be called ; a fat, estimable gentleman, who 
 devoted himself to the administration of the poor law, the propagation 
 of his species, and the manufacture of fancy-headed walking-sticks. 
 Of children, he had twelve, with the prospect of more, to each of 
 whom he nattered himself if he could leave a sufficient number of 
 walking-sticks he would make them very independent. So he 
 cut and hacked and hewed and fashioned ashes, hollies, black- 
 thorns, &c, into the heads of great people, — poets, authors, statesmen, 
 and so on. 
 
 To this and his other pursuits Mr. Jogglebury Crowdey had at one 
 time united those of shooter and occasional fox-hunter, more perhaps 
 to promote the grand object of stick-hunting than from any decided 
 inclination for either sport ; but his waistband increasing in size he had 
 long relinquished the saddle and had latterly entered into an arrange- 
 ment with Mr. Facey Romford, whereby the latter was to have the free 
 range of his manor (which indeed Facey had long taken without 
 leave), in consideration of a certain equivalent in the way of game 
 So Crowdey, who was a good shooter, but a bad hitter, got a small 
 supply of birds — as many as Facey thought were good for him — while 
 he saved not only the cost of his certificate, but also of his powder and 
 sbot, to say nothing of the exertions of himself and his plethoric dog, 
 Ponto, who like his master had become fat and lazy. This gunning 
 arrangement of course brought Mr. Romford occasionally to Pudding- 
 pote Bower, and Mrs. Crowdey, ever anxious for the welfare of her 
 numerous progeny, and perhaps rayther mistrusting Jog's sticks, had 
 conceived the notable idea of securing the Gilroy fortune, after Facey 
 ■was done with it, for one of her youngsters. So she made up to Facey 
 a good deal, always had him to dine when there was a goose (not her 
 husband, but the bird), and put Master Marcus Aurelius forward as 
 the most promising boy in the parish. 
 
 And Facey feeling all this, and thinking that perhaps the Pudding - 
 pote intimacy might now end, resolved to conclude it with a loan, which 
 present circumstances favoured the prospect of getting. So, arraying 
 himself immediately after his porridge breakfast in a glossy suit of 
 black that he had long kept in lavender to be ready for his Oncle, he 
 craped his Sunday hat deeply, and drawing on a pair of new black 
 kid gloves, took the way across the fields, avoiding Bickerton and 
 Branshaugh, to the Bower. Arrived there he found Jog feeding his 
 Cochins, who started at the sight, and nearly broke the brown earthen- 
 ware bowl in which he had the barley-meal. 
 
 " Oncle dead," whispered Facey, with a knowing look and a solemn 
 shake of the head. 
 
10 mr. facey romford's hounds. 
 
 "Poor (puff) I" ejaculated Jog; "-when did it (puff, wheeze) 
 happen ? " 
 
 " Only heard of it last night," replied Facey lowly. 
 
 " (Pttff) in, and (gasp) Mrs. Jogglebury," said Jog, taking Facey' a 
 muscular arm and leading the way through the back kitchen to the 
 dining-room, where Mrs. Jog was just sweeping the chips Jog had 
 made in cutting a Lord Palmerstonian-headed stick under the grate. 
 
 " My (puff) dear, here's (gasp) Mr. Eomford," said Jog, opening 
 the door and putting his friend forward to bear the brunt of the action 
 in case it should be wrong. Mrs. Jog started, too, for she had never 
 seen Facey in anything but his somewhat miscellaneous coloured 
 clothes, and the contrast was rather appalling. She soon jumped to a 
 conclusion. 
 
 "Poor man!" exclaimed she, clasping her hands, "when did it 
 happen ? " 
 
 " Only heard of it last night," replied Facey sorrowfully, as the 
 woman in black flashed across his mind. 
 
 " Indeed ! Then was he from home ? " 
 
 " Been away for a week," replied Facey ; " was to have come home 
 on Tuesday." 
 
 " Only think ! " ejaculated Mrs. Jogglebury, turning her eyes up to 
 the ceiling, as if with a fine moral reflection, but in reality calculating 
 Aurelius's chances. ""What, died in London, did he ? " 
 
 "Died in London," assented Facey. 
 
 "Then you'll be going up to see about things, won't you?" asked 
 Mrs. Jogglebury, anxious for Marcus Aurelius's interest. 
 
 " That's just it," said Facey, looking out of the corners of his little 
 ferretty eyes at Jogglebury, " that's just it. Tou see the bankers 
 won't let me have any money till the will is proved, and I've just 
 come down to see if you can let me have a " 
 
 "Oh (gasp, puff, wheeze) yes, they will," ejaculated Jog. ""When 
 my (wheeze) uncle (gasp) Crowdey died, Blunt and Buggins let me 
 have as much as I (gasped)." 
 
 "Ah, that was in the country," observed Mrs. Jog, thinking to 
 clench the Aurelius interest with a loan. 
 
 "That was in the country," said Facey, adopting the idea. 
 "London is a very different place; they'll hardly change you a fi' pun 
 note without a reference." 
 
 "Well, but your (gasp) uncle would have an account in the (wheeze) 
 country as well," observed Jog. 
 
 "Not he," replied Facey ; "meOncle wasn't the man to tell his 
 right hand what his left hand did. However," continued he, raising 
 
A FRIEND IN NEED. 11 
 
 the craped hat from the floor, "I must just see what the Londoners 
 will do, for time is precious, and things must he looked after." So 
 saying, Facey rose as if to depart, whereupon Mrs. Jog essayed another 
 coup at her husband. 
 
 "Well, hut Jog, my dear, I dare say you could let Mr. Romford 
 have what he wants." 
 
 " My (puff, gasp) dear, I have only (gasp) pound in the house," 
 replied the excited Jog, stamping, and turning perfectly scarlet. 
 
 Now (gasp) pounds being an indefinite sum, and having the missus on 
 his side, Facey did not like to say it would do, so, pretending indiffer- 
 ence, he said he was only providing against possible contingencies, and 
 did not know he might want it at all. That comforted Jog considerably, 
 for he did not like lending money to anybody ; but Mrs. Jog speedily 
 dispelled the delusion by observing that perhaps he could give Mr. 
 Romford a cheque for what he required. 
 
 "Ah, that might do," said Facey, brightening up, "and then I could 
 cash it or not, as I wanted it;" and Jog, seeing that a storm was 
 imminent, after a long leisurely hunt for his keys, at length found 
 them, and proceeded to unlock a great brass-bound mahogany writing- 
 desk, out of a secret drawer of which he produced the important little 
 money sheaf of a cheque book. Then he had to look for a pen that 
 would write, next for some ink that would mark, after that for his 
 almanack, and finally for his spectacles. Still Romford, though in such 
 a desperate hurry, did not back out. So Jog, having consumed all the 
 time that he could, at length filled in the date, and then came to the 
 next blank after the word pay. Messrs. Blunt and Buggins, pay — 
 " Pay who ? " asked Jog, looking up. 
 
 "Oh, pay me," replied our friend. "Pay me — Mr. Romford — pay 
 Mr. Romford or order — say, fifty pund — not that I dare say I shall want 
 it, but it will make even money, and I can send you down a fifty pun 
 note — cut in two, you know;" adding, " dessay I shall find plenty of 
 specie when I get there — only one likes to be provided." 
 
 This last observation had a consolatory effect upon Jog, who, after a 
 hunt for his blotting-paper, at length found it, and stamping it severely 
 on the cheque as if he would knock its wind out, took a last farewell, 
 and tearing it abruptly from the book handed it over to Pacey, with a 
 feeling as though he were parting with his heart's blood. 
 
 " All right," said Romford, glancing at it, and then folding it up he 
 placed it in his betting-book and pocketed it. 
 
 ''You'll let us hear from you in London, I suppose," observed Mrs. 
 Jogglebury Crowdey, as Facey prepared to depart. 
 
 "Certainly," replied Facey, "certainly — write to ycu as soon as I 
 
12 mk. facet romford's hounds. 
 
 get there — most likely send you your cheque back." So saying he 
 shook each heartily by the hand and hurried away through the 
 kitchen. 
 
 Without waiting for the bang of the back door, Jog's pent up wrath 
 exploded with a "I wonder you are such a {gasp) as to {puff) away 
 money in that way." 
 
 "Oh, nonsense, Jog, you are so suspicious. You have no spirit or 
 enterprise about you. I declare the poor children might be all paupers 
 for anything you do." 
 
 "Paupers {puff) ! enterprise {ivheeze) ! I think you are much more 
 likely to make them {p>uff) paupers than {wheeze) me." 
 
 " Nonsense, Jog ; I tell you you don't know the men as well as I do. 
 Leave me to manage these matters. Just as Marcus Aurelius's chance 
 is at the best, you try to throw all my endeavours away." 
 
 "Ah, {puff) that's just what you used to say with regard to 
 Gustavus {wheeze) and Mr. Sponge. Nothin' was too {puff) for Mr. 
 Sponge — he was sure to {wheeze) Gustavus James everything he had, 
 and must have the best of everything, — all the delicacies of the 
 season, — and then he goes and marries a {gasp) actress. "Wish I had 
 the {puff) expenses of that {wheeze) visit in my {gasp) pocket. "Would 
 come to a pretty round sum, I know." 
 
 This agreeable dialogue was at length interrupted by a double 
 knock at the half-open door, indicating the presence of a listener. It 
 was the cook, come to say that Betty the fishwoman was in the 
 scullery with soles, haddocks, and skate. Mrs. Jog gladly beat a 
 retreat to hold a conference with her, for Betty dealt in gossip as well 
 as fish, and always had the latest intelligence. So, after a slight 
 survey of the fish, she asked her if there was anything going on. 
 ""Well, no, I think not, mum," replied Betty, who was more 
 tenacious about the freshness of her news than that of her fish, and 
 always opened as if the news was old, ""Well, no, mum, I think not. 
 You'll have heard of the doin's at Mr. Gilroy's, doubtless ? " 
 
 "Doings ! " exclaimed Mrs. Jog, " why, he's dead." 
 
 "Dead, yes, and left a widdy and large family," replied Betty. 
 
 ShrieJc ! screech ! scream / went Mrs. Jog, rushing to a vacant chair 
 by the cistern. 
 
 "Oh, mum, what's happened?" exclaimed Betty, standing aghast. 
 
 ""What's the {puff)?" demanded Jog, rushing in with the Palmer- 
 stonian stick in his hand. 
 
 "Oh, tell him — tell him, take him away and tell him," shrieked 
 Mrs. Jog, covering her face with one hand and motioning them away 
 with the other. 
 
A FRIEND IN NEED. 13 
 
 "When Jog heard the sad news he was quite beside himself. 
 Summoning his man-boy the two got the phaeton ready, and drove off 
 at such a rate, to stop the cheque at the bank, that they threw down the 
 old family mare, breaking one of the shafts and both her knees. But 
 Facey was too many for them. He never went near the bank, but j ust 
 walked round to Mr. Holmside, the treasurer to the Poor Law "Onion, 
 saying, as that worthy appeared at his door, "I say, here's one of your 
 old broken- winded Chairman's cheques — just give me money for it, that's 
 a good fellow." And Jog being a very great man in the eyes of Mr. 
 Holmside (Chairman of the Stir-it-stiff Union, comprising no less than 
 ten townships), immediately produced his money-bags, and asking Mr. 
 Romford how he would have it, handed him five five-pound notes and 
 five-and-twenty sovereigns. Facey then telling Holmside that there 
 were a brace of partridges and a hen pheasant (one of Squire 
 Gollarton's) at Mother Trotter's that he might have for sending for, 
 bade him adieu, and was quickly out of sight. Arrived at home, 
 Facey trundled his clothes into his box, and consigning his dogs to 
 the care of his landlady, drove off in the postman's gig to catch the 
 mail train at the Hyndleyburn Station. And the almost broken- 
 hearted Jog vowed that he would never have anything more to do 
 with Faceys or Soapeys or men of that sort, for the interests of bis 
 children would be much better promoted by sticking *o the sticks. So 
 he hacked and hewed and carved away with redoubled rigour, and is 
 hacking and carving away to this hour for aught we know to the 
 contrary. Last scene of all that closes this portion of our sad eventful 
 history was the coming of the county court bailiff, who swept away 
 all that friend Facey had left at his lodgings — his wide-awake hat, 
 his "flay craw" clothes, his shabby mackintosh, his mud boots; above 
 all, his valuable library — his "Boxiana," his "Fistiana," his "Bell's 
 Life," and "White's Farriery." 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE SPONGE CIGAR AND BETTING ROOMS. 
 
 Arrived in the great metropolis, Facey's earliest visit was to the 
 well-known Soapey Sponge, in Jermyn Street, St. James's. Soapey in 
 bygone days had been a guest of Facey's, and had lost a certain sum 
 of " sivin pun ten " to him at Blind Hookey, which no amount of 
 coaxing or bullying had ever been able to extract from him. Indeed, 
 latterly the letters had been returned to Facey through the dead-letter 
 office. This was not to be borne, and Facey was now more than ever 
 determined to have his dues, or to know the " reason why." "We may 
 mention that Soapey, on his marriage with the fascinating actress, 
 Miss Lucy Glitters, had set up a cigar and betting shop, a happy 
 combination, that promised extremely well at the outset, but an 
 unfeeling legislature, regardless of vested interests, had presently 
 interposed, and put a stop to the betting department. So Soapey had 
 to extinguish his lists, and Lucy and he were reduced to the profits of 
 the cigar shop alone, — "wholesale, eetail, and for exportation," as 
 the circular brass front and window blind announced. 
 
 Now, though Lucy's attractions were great, and though she never 
 sold even one of her hay-and-brown-paper cigars under sixpence, or 
 ever gave change for a shilling, still Soapey and she could not make 
 both ends meet ; and when poverty comes in at the door, love will fly 
 out of even a glittering cigar-shop window. So it was with the 
 Sponges. Deprived of his betting recreation, Soapey took to idle and 
 expensive habits ; so true is the saying that 
 
 " Satan finds some miscnief etiil 
 For idle hands to do." 
 
 He frequented casinoes and billiard-rooms, danced at Cremorne, and 
 often did not come home till daylight did appear. All this went sadly 
 against the till ; and the rent and the rates and taxes, to say nothing 
 of the tradesmen's bills, were more difficult to collect on each suc- 
 ceeding quarter. "With this falling fortune friend Facey arrived in 
 town to further complicate disasters. He took twopennyworth of 
 Citizen 'bus from Lisson Grove as far as the Piccadilly Circus, and 
 
TEE SPONGE CIGAR AND BETTING ROOMS. 15 
 
 then, either not knowing the country, or with a view of drawing up 
 wind, threw himself into cover at the St. James's Street end of Jermyn 
 Street, instead of at the Haymarket end, where one would have thought 
 his natural genius would have suggested the Sponges would be found. 
 To be sure he had not been much about town ; Oncle Gilroy, for obvious 
 reasons, having kept him as much as he could in the country. As we 
 said before, it being the winter season, when day is much the same as 
 night in London, Facey lounged leisurely along the gaslit street, one 
 roguish eye reading the names and callings of the shops on his left, the 
 other raking the opposite side of the way ; but though he drew along 
 slowly and carefully, examining as well the doors as the windows, no 
 Sponge sign, no cigar warehouse, greeted his optics. Fish, books, 
 boxes, bacon, boots, shoes, everything but Sponges. 
 
 So he came upon the 'bus-crowded Regent Street, not having had a 
 whiff of a cigar save from the passers-by. There then he stood at the 
 corner of the street biting his nails, lost in astonishment at the 
 result. "Reg'lar do," muttered he; "beggar's bolted," looking back 
 on the long vista of lamps he had passed. " Well, that's a nice go," 
 said he ; " always thought that fellow was a sharper." Just then an 
 unhandsome Hansom came splashing and tearing along the way he 
 had come, and dashing across Eegent Street pursued the continuous 
 route beyond. 
 
 " May as well cast across here," said Facey to himself, picking his 
 way over the muddy street, taking care of his buttoned boots as he 
 went. His sagacity was rewarded by reading "Jermyn Street" on 
 the opposite wall. " For-rard ! for-rard ! " he cheered himself, think- 
 ing the cigar shop scent improved as he went. Indeed he quickly 
 came upon a baccy shop, green door, red blinds, all indicative of a 
 find, for no sooner does one tradesman get well-established than 
 another comes as near as he can get to pick away part of his custom. 
 
 Just then Facey' s keen eye caught sight of two little over-dressed 
 snobs stopping suddenly at a radiant shop window a few paces further 
 on, and advancing stealthily along, as if going up with his gun to a 
 point, the words " Devilish 'andsome " fell upon his ear. Looking 
 over their shoulders there appeared the familiar figure of Mrs. Sponge 
 behind the counter. Mrs. Sponge, slightly advanced in embonpoint 
 since he saw her, but still in the full bloom of womanly beauty. She 
 was dressed in a semi-evening costume, low-necked lavender-coloured 
 eilk dress, with an imitation black Spanish mantilla thrown gracefully 
 over her swan-like neck and drooping well-rounded shoulders. The 
 glare of the gaslight illumined her clear Italian-like complexion, and 
 imparted a lustre to a light bandeau of brilliants that encircled her jet 
 
16 ME. FACEY ROMFORD'S HOUNDS. 
 
 black hair. Altogether she looked very bewitching. There was a 
 great hairy fellow in the shop, as big as Facey, and better made, who 
 kept laughing and talking, and " Lucy"-ing Mrs. Sponge in the familiar 
 way fools talk to women in bars and cigar rooms. The little snobs 
 were rather kept at bay by the sight; not so friend Facey, who brushed 
 past them and boldly entered the once famous " Sponge Cigar and 
 Betting-Eooms." Lucy started with a half-suppressed shriek at the 
 sight, for Romford at any time would have been formidable, but a 
 black Eomford was more than her nerves could bear. Added to this 
 she knew who had returned the dunning letters, and feared the visit 
 boded no good. 
 
 ""Well, and how goes it?" said Facey, advancing, and tendering his 
 great ungloved hand. 
 
 " Pretty well, thank you, Mr. Eomford," replied Lucy, shaking 
 hands with him. 
 
 "And how's the old boy ? " asked Facey, meaning Soapey. 
 
 " He's pretty well, too, thank you," replied Mrs. Sponge. 
 
 " At home? " asked Facey, with an air of indifference. 
 
 " Well — no — " hesitated Lucy, " he's just gone out to his drill. 
 He is one of the West Middlesex." (He was up-stairs dressing to go 
 to the billiard-room.) 
 
 The hairy monster seeing he was superseded presently took his 
 departure, and the little snobs having passed on, the two were left 
 together, so Facey taking a chair planted himself just opposite the 
 door, as well to stare at her as to stem the tide of further custom. It 
 was lucky he did, for Sponge coming down-stairs peeped through the 
 dun-hole of the little retiring-room, and recognising his great 
 shoulders and backward-growing whiskers, beat a retreat and stole out 
 the back way. 
 
 "And may I ask who you are in mourning for ? " inquired Lucy, as 
 soon as the first rush of politeness was over. 
 
 " Oh, me Oncle, me Oncle Gilroy," replied Facey. 
 
 " Gone at last, is he," said Lucy, who recollected to have heard 
 about him. 
 
 " Gone at last," assented Facey, with a downward nod. 
 
 ""Well, and I hope he's left you something 'andsome," observed Lucy. 
 
 " Leave ! Oh, bless you, I never expected nothin' from him. He 
 had a wife and ever so many bairns." 
 
 "You don't say so !" exclaimed Lucy, clasping her beautiful hands; 
 " I always understood he was a bachelor. Well, Mr. S. will be 
 astonished when he hears that," added she, turning her lustrous darkly- 
 fringed eyes up to the ceiling. 
 
THE SPONGE CIGAR AND BETTING ROOMS. 17 
 
 "Fact, however," said Facey, significantly. 
 
 " You surprise me," said Lucy, fearing the little debt would not be 
 wiped off. " "Well," continued she, "it's lucky for those that can do 
 without." 
 
 " Ah, that's another matter," muttered Facey, who saw how it bore 
 on tbe sivin pun ten. " Money's always acceptable," continued he, 
 Looking round the sbining sbop and wondering if he would ever get 
 paid. There seemed plenty of stock, provided the barrels and canisters 
 were not all dummies. How would it do to take it out in kind ? 
 Better get money if he could, thought he. Facey then applied himself 
 to sounding Lucy as to where Sponge was likely to be found. Oh, he 
 would be sure to find him at any time ; could scarcely come wrong. 
 He hadn't been gone five minutes when Mr. Romford came. "Would 
 be so vexed when he returned to find he'd missed him. Facey 
 rather doubted this latter assertion, and was half inclined to ask why 
 Soapey had not answered his letters, but Lucy being too pretty to 
 have any words with, and appearing to believe what she said, he 
 pretended that he did too, and shortly afterwards left to get a beefsteak 
 dinner at the Blue Posts in Cork Street. As he turned out of the 
 shop he encountered a blear-eyed brandy-faced man, with a numbered 
 badge on his breast, and an old red cotton kerchief twisted carelessly 
 round his battered hat, whose seedy greasy clothes seemed greatly in 
 want of a washing. The wearer started at the sight of our friend. 
 It was none other than Soapey Sponge's late job stud groom, Mr. 
 Leather, crawling from the cab-stand for his weekly stipend of 
 eighteenpence of hush money for a certain horse robbery he had been 
 engaged in with Mr. Sponge before he married Lucy, and the aged 
 head within the battered hat was the one that butted the Romford 
 stomach, and knocked its owner neck and crop backward down-stairs.* 
 Romford, however, did not recognise it, and Leather wisely thinking 
 the reminiscence would not be productive of a tip, let him pass ; so, after 
 strolling into the Haymarket, Leather returned leisurely to Lucy, and 
 told her that he reallie did believe he'd seen that Mr. Romford Facey 
 wot wanted to steal his old master's clothes. And Lucy said he had. 
 The fact was that Romford Facey, as Mr. Leather called him, had 
 wanted to detain the clothes for this identical sivin pun ten he now 
 came in quest of, and Leather showing fight had ultimately been the 
 victor, butting Facey backward down-stairs and putting his shoulder 
 out. Leather had long tried for sixpence a week extra for this service, 
 but had not succeeded in getting it. 
 
 • Vide "Mr. Sponge's Sporting Tour." 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE BKIGHT IDEA. 
 
 Lojvdoit was very empty. There were as many waiters as guests at 
 the Carlton, and White's was equally deserted. A man might walk a 
 long time before he would be hailed, — a very long time, before anybody 
 would a.sk him to dine. 
 
 Mr. Facey Eomford vacillated between the Blue Posts in Cork Street, 
 John o' Groat's in Rupert Street, and Soapey Sponge's in Jermyn Street. 
 Still he never could find Soapey at home. Call early, call late, call when 
 he would, he was never to be seen. Lucy was charged with excuses, and 
 she did her spiriting so kindly and gently that Facey almost began to 
 be reconciled to not seeing him. Still, sivin pun ten was a deal of money, 
 a deal at any time, a great deal to a man who had just been defrauded 
 of an ample fortune, and had to begin the world afresh. Ah, indeed ! 
 groaned Facey, as he lay in his attic bed above the ham and beef shop 
 at his new lodging in Beak Street, thinking it over. What should it be ? 
 If that old scoundrel hadn't deceived him he might have made a great 
 fortune as a civil engineer; been a second Stephenson or Brunei; for our 
 friend had a good opinion of his abilities, — few men better. Facey was 
 quite puzzled what to do. He couldn't return to his theodolite, to levels 
 and surveys — 
 
 "And drag at each remove a lengthening chain." 
 
 He wouldn't mind being an auctioneer, or station-master, if there was 
 a good salary and he could steal away for a little shooting now and then. 
 He wouldn't mind being a chief constable, or even a super, if they would 
 let him hunt his horse occasionally, — could trap a thief with any one. 
 Iiis decided forte, however, was for dogs and horses. He wouldn't 
 mind a farm, provided he had the game also ; but then, under this 
 confounded new system of improvement, it required capital ; so did a 
 horse-dealer, so did everything. That was what floored him. In vain 
 he thought of something horsey, out-of-doorish, and exhilarating, that 
 could be worked without any money; nothing of the sort ever occurred 
 Lu him. 
 
THE B1UGHT IDEA. 19 
 
 A man's bright ideas generally come when he least expects them ; 
 they occur to some in shaving, some in smoking, some in drinking, some 
 in batting, some in boating. Romford caught inspiration by staring 
 into a saddler's shop window in Oxford Street. There he saw sundry 
 busy men in their shirt sleeves, sewing and stitching and hammering 
 away at saddles and horsey things. These being interesting to horsey 
 men, he stuck his thumbs into his armlets and stood straddling and 
 eyeing the operation, looking at saddles in every stage of advancement, 
 from the trees up to the final finish. " Dash it, why shouldn't I be a 
 3addler ? " thought he ; " could fit one on as well as any man." And 
 then the confounded money question arose again. 
 
 "Well, but he might be master of the horse to some great man who 
 had not as much leisure and experience as himself. That would do f 
 Mr. Eomford master of the horse to an earl or a duke say. That would 
 3ound well ! Would buy the horses and the forage, pocket the per- 
 centage, and ride for nothing. And he was half inclined to step into 
 Wilkinson and Kidd's, and ask if they knew of anything of the sort, — ask 
 as if it were for a friend, — a young man in whom he took an interest. 
 While he was thus cogitating, his keen eye caught sight of a man 
 fitting a hunting-horn to a saddle, which carried him away on the 
 moment. From the horse to the hound is an easy and natural transition, 
 which, coupled with the mastership of the horse, then uppermost in 
 Facey's mind, struck the train of thought right into the kennel line, and 
 caused him to hit off the idea of being a master of hounds. A master of 
 hounds! That was the thing — the very thing for bis money! — or rather, 
 his no money — and he gave his great thigh a slap that sounded like the 
 report of a pistol. " Well done, ingenuity ! " cried he, swinging his 
 right arm about, sending an old apple-woman into the gutter, as he 
 rolled away from tbe window, feeling a new, renovated, regenerated 
 man. A pack of hounds was the very thing to his mind, the very 
 thing of all others that he would have liked best if he had got that 
 wicked old man's money, though he now thought it had been so ill 
 made that it would never have prospered with him. And Facey won- 
 dered that the idea had never struck him before : it seemed so natural 
 and obvious, that he could not think how it had happened. Money ! It 
 required no money ! The people who wanted the sport would find the 
 money. He would find discretion and judgment. He knew all the ins 
 and outs of management, — how a twenty pund horse was made into a 
 fifty, — where to buy meal, where to buy oats, where to buy hay, where 
 to buy everything. Then he would hunt the hounds himself, — do foi 
 pleasure what others did for pay, — and could soon fashion a light, active, 
 cute lad with brains in bis head into a whip. He knew how to get 
 
 c 2 
 
20 MR. FACEY ROMFORD'S HOUNDS. 
 
 helpers at the exact market price, — he would be his own stud-groom, — 
 master of horse to himself. His hunting would get him shooting, and 
 shooting would get him fishing, and the three would get him into so- 
 ciety, and there was no saying but he might get an heiress after all. And 
 Facey congratulated himself uncommonly on his sagaeity, and retraced his 
 steps to the Blue Posts, and then back to Soapey's, with a light elasticity 
 that he had never known since the death of Oncle Gilroy. Still there was 
 no Soapey to be seen in Jermyn Street. Lucy was there, neat and pretty 
 as usual, with the accustomed levee of nincompoops, all looking out for 
 a smile. A mortgagee to the extent of sivin pun ten might well 
 exercise acts of ownership, and Facey rolled in with such an air of 
 importance that several of the small fry slunk away in alarm, thinking 
 Facey was Soapey, and might perhaps spin them into the street. And 
 as Soapey knew better than appear when Facey was there, the latter 
 had the shop pretty much to himself; a presence, however, that did not 
 at all contribute to the increase of custom. But as Facey had no share 
 in the profits, and found the shop a very convenient lounge, lie just 
 dropped in whenever it suited him, getting his pipe and his porter from 
 the Black Horse over the way. Lucy was always neat and nicely dressed, 
 and partly from having an excellent figure of her own, and partly 
 because the space behind the counter was rather contracted, she did not 
 counteract Nature's gifts by making herself into a haystack with hoops, 
 but just put on as much something as made her clothes stand out below. 
 She was always busy with her needle, — always either making her own 
 clothes or mending Soapey's, which latter were sometimes rather 
 dilapidated. 
 
 Facey on his part kept the mastership project firmly and steadily in 
 view. The letters M. F. H. met him in the morning, they accom- 
 panied him throughout the day, and closed his eyes at night. He 
 apostrophised the Bow bells' address to "Whittington — 
 
 "Turn again, Whittington, 
 Thrice Lord Mayor of London," 
 into, 
 
 " Turn again, Romford, 
 Thrice Master of Fox-Hounds." 
 
 He felt fully persuaded he would be a master, just as Mr. Disraeli 
 felt fully persuaded he would be an orator, and Louis Napoleon that 
 he would be an emperor — it was fated so. He visited all the likely 
 haunts of horsey and hunting men, from Tattersall's down to some of the 
 enterprising gentlemen who offer invduable horses for half nothing, 
 with every opportunity of investigation and trial. Though most of 
 these thought Facey looked like a clown yet there was scmething about 
 
THE BRIGHT IDEA. 21 
 
 his roguish phjsiognomy that prevented their trying it on with him. 
 One thought he was a coper in disguise, and asked him, with a know- 
 ing wink, if he wasn't in their line himself. And though Facey had 
 gone into the yard with a considerable swagger, he did not resent the 
 imputation, but said, in a low confidential sort of tone, " Well, no, but 
 p'raps I could give you a lift." And the man being ever anxious to do 
 some one, after feeling his way a little further, fraternised with Facey, 
 and put him up to a thing or two. So Facey went about from place 
 to place, always with an eye to the main chance- -that of getting a 
 country, and talking as if he had lately abandoned one. 
 
 Still, running about and making inquiries instead of advertising for 
 what one wants, is very much like sending one's letters by a special 
 messenger instead of availing oneself of the post. One good advertise- 
 ment in the right quarter, the right medium of communication, will 
 do more towards suiting people than whole reams of letter paper, and 
 months of personal effort and inquiry. 
 
 Of course Romford, wanting a country, did not advertise in the 
 " Record," or the " Saturday Review," but went to the appropriate 
 office of " Bell's Life in London," where with the aid of a clerk he 
 combed out a very taking advertisement. It stated that a gentleman, 
 to whom subscription was a secondary consideration, was ready to 
 treat for a country where he could get a little shooting and fishing as 
 well. ' ' All letters and communications to be addressed to Francis 
 Romford, Esq., at the Sponge Cigar "Warehouse, Jermyn Street, St. 
 James's, S.W.," Facey thinking that Jermyn Street, St. James's, 
 sounded better than Jermyn Street, Haymarket, which perhaps 
 it does. And having thus laid the foundation of future fame he 
 went about with a copy of the paper in his pocket, pricing saddles 
 and bridles, and things, showing the fortunate victim by the advertise- 
 ment where to send them to ; and sportsmen being always in high 
 repute with tradesmen, he very soon got a goodly collection together. 
 He looked in at Bartley and Hammond's, intending to have his boots 
 and breeches from them; but somehow, though these great professors- 
 took his measure, and complimented him on his proportions, they did not. 
 care to execute his orders. Bartley told him he would back him to.* 
 lick Sayers, but still he would not make him a pair of boots to fight 
 in However, as Facey said, there was no harm done, and he inwardly 
 wished himself better luck another time 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 TEE H.H., OK, HEAVYSIDE nU>'T. 
 
 Eeuto about the middle of the hunting season it was not to be 
 expected that friend Eomford would have many applications for his 
 immediate services ; but these being the days for getting one's sport out 
 of other people's pockets, he had plenty of feelers as to what he would 
 do against the next one. Some of the writers evidently thought 
 tbey were communicating with the other Mr. Romford, who if they 
 could but get to adopt their country, it would save them all further 
 trouble about subscribing — sport being evidently the object of the 
 advertiser, not subscription — indeed, Mr. Romford was known to be 
 very rich. Facey entered into correspondence with some of these, and 
 one gentleman came all the way from Uttoxeter to see him, to the seri- 
 ous detriment of a five pound note ; when finding they were both of the 
 same kidney, he was weak enough to try to get Facey to pay half his 
 expenses — a light for a cigar was all he got out of Romford. Still, our 
 friend continued his advertisement, and at length it brought forth, — if 
 not golden, — at all events some fruit. The members of the old-estab- 
 lished Heavyside Hunt had quarrelled among themselves, and it had 
 been resolved to re-cast the establishment altogether, and have a dictator 
 instead of many masters. 
 
 The hunt, as many of our readers are perhaps aware, is one of very 
 great antiquity, being called after its founder, Mr. Simon Heavyside, 
 of Heavyside Hall. From one of his capacious clasped red pockets in 
 which he used to dot down the doings of the day, the horses he 
 bought, the corn he sold, the lambs he reared, we learn that, so far 
 back as 1751, he had hired a youth called Mark Buck to go with 
 Harry the huntsman and hounds, the same being, as Mr. Heavyside 
 noted, " cappital when settled to their fox, but rather mettlesome 
 before," most likely very riotous, and Buck was to be whipper-in 
 under the inferior title of couple-boy. The hunt therefore must have 
 been in existence sometime before this, though how long we are 
 unable to say. Mr. Heavyside kept the establishment, such as it was, 
 and having the whole county to operate upon he used to make roya'i 
 (sporting progresses wherever he heard there was good wine to drink 
 
THE H.H., 01{, HEAVYSIDE HUNT 23 
 
 and foxes to hunt. Very cheery and jolly the old cocks were, hunting, 
 and drinking, and talking enthusiastically of the sport. Very circum- 
 spect they were about their port — four years in wood and twenty in 
 bottle was the youngest they could drink, and solemn and sententious 
 were the judgments they delivered ere a pipe was considered perfect. 
 Then they went a-head till it was finished. They never hunted two 
 days together — three days a week was considered very handsome ; but 
 they used to assemble at the kennel on the intervening ones, and chat 
 over the pedigrees and merits of those hounds that had particularly 
 distinguished themselves on the preceding days, — how Firebrand led up 
 to the Gibbet on Harrowden Heath, and how Trimbush and Trueman 
 took it up and maintained the lead all the way to Billington Hill. It 
 was all the hounds they talked about, not themselves or their horses. 
 jNo telling of how Brown beat Smith, or how Tomkins set the field. 
 Indeed, the horses were not adapted to that description of work ; being 
 merely what would be called machiners at the present day, but they 
 could trot and clamber along, and a hunt not being a hunt unless it 
 lasted three hours, there was great harmony between them and the 
 hounds. They would paw and whinny with delight as some sage 
 veteran of the chase made long-drawn proclamation of the scent, to 
 be ratified and confirmed by each particular hound for himself. They 
 used not to take much upon credit. Each hound had to be satisfied, 
 and enthusiastic would he be when he was so — not a yard would they 
 go without a scent. 
 
 We have been favoured with a sight of a picture of old Mr. Simon 
 Heavyside painted about the fortieth year of his reign, in which the 
 old bottle-nosed hero is depicted on an old crop-eared grizzled horse 
 with a whitening-brush tail, a flat flapped saddle, and a snaffle bridle in 
 his mouth. The squire, a good eighteen stoner, is attired in a velvet 
 cap with a squarish peak, from whose black sides a profusion of snow- 
 white locks protrude, gathered and tied into a comprehensive pig-tail 
 behind. His abundant, almost superabundant, single-breasted scarlet 
 coat-laps reach a long way below the mahogany-coloured boot-tops, 
 which are kept over the calf of the leg by a pair of broad tanned 
 straps across the knee, thus showing a sufficiency of the bright blue 
 woollen interregnum, a buff vest high in the throat and long in the 
 waist, with ample flap-pockets, a straight spur, a spare stirrup leather 
 across the shoulder, and a most formidable-looking hammer-headed 
 whip, the thong dangling at the side of the leg, complete the costume of 
 t his ancient worthy. Around him are several couple of hounds, great 
 long-eared lumbering animals, and in the distance sundry stacks of 
 chimneys are seen in full smoke rising among the trees, indicative of the 
 
21 MB. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 extent of hospitality at the Hall. It was said that no one ever left it 
 either sad or sober — it was a sort of free public house for the country 
 at large, and as the squire brewed his own ale, killed his own meat, 
 and made his own cheese, there was a great deal of wear and tear for 
 the teeth at no very serious sacrifice. At length the old trump being 
 unable any longer to partake of the pleasures of the chase himself, 
 bethought him of providing for the amusement of posterity by 
 securing the continuance of his hounds in the country to which he 
 was so much attached. To this end he made his will, of which the 
 following is an extract — 
 
 "I Simon Heavyside, of Heavyside Hall, Esquyer, being of hole 
 and perfect mind and memorie, thoughe verie craysed and sore 
 wounded in body, do make this my last will and testament in 
 manor and forme folowienge; that is to say: To my well beloved 
 friends and brother sportsmene Oliver Rookeburn, of BAngland Hill, 
 and Thomas Dawson, of Chaldon Hall, Esquiers, and their Heirs, 
 all my most truly valuable hounde dogges, with the cooples them 
 thereunto belonging, together with £62 by yere, or as much more 
 as my landes in Lamsheles and Allenton will let for by the yeare, 
 for the keep and maintenance of the saide hounde dogges, and their 
 desendents for ever." 
 
 And he gave to his friend Tom Tidswell of Hayford for a token, his- 
 racking gray nage, alsoe to Joe Smith, of "Westfield, his donne horse, and 
 to Ned Armstrong, of "Windrush, a browne horse that he bought of 
 Nicholas Rattler. 
 
 And he ordered that his huntsman, George Grimwell should have 
 meat and drink in his house during his life, with 40s. by the yere for 
 tobacco and snuff. 
 
 And Simon being greatly respected, as most men with bottle noses 
 are, the hunt resolved itself into a Heavyside club at his death, the 
 members of which all took the surname of Heavyside, and addressed 
 each other by the title of brother, sinking their own surnames and 
 using the prefix to their Christian ones only, thus, brother Nicholas 
 Heavyside, brother Solomon Heavyside, brother Timothy Heavyside, 
 the parties' real names being Fairbank, "Woodney, and Heaton. Then 
 at the hunt dinners, the memory of their great founder was drunk 
 ptanding with solemn silence, and those who had hunted with him 
 and those who had wined with him shook their grey beads, and said 
 they should never see his like again. But Time, the soother and 
 reconciler, gradually lessened the veneration, as younger men with 
 smaller iraists and greater activity began to supply the places of th« 
 
THE H.H., OK, HEAVTSIDE HUNT. 25 
 
 original members. Then they wanted a younger huntsman, quicker 
 hounds, shorter runs, and smarter cords. 
 
 At first the mere mention of any innovation was looked upon as- 
 rank heresy, and the irritated elders peered over their formidable 
 broad rimmed spectacles (for specs were specs in those days) to see 
 who was guilty of such treason; but as the specs gradually gave way 
 to eyes that could see, there was a growing inclination in favour of 
 pace. 
 
 But Lawyer Lappy, who was an original Keavysider, and moreover 
 had attained the distinguished weight of nineteen stone, insisted 
 that according to the terras of the will the hounds must be the lineal 
 descendants of the old stock, or they w T ould forfeit the endowment, so- 
 they could do little in the way of improvement as long as the lawyer 
 lived. At length Brother Lappy paid the debt of nature, whereupon 
 the new generation abolished the term brother, and substituted a 
 smart hunt button — dead gold with a bright border, and the letters 
 H. H. entwined so affectionately and hieroglyphically together as 
 to make it extremely difficult to say what they were. Then old 
 Grimwell was turned adrift on his baccy and beer, the throaty old 
 patriarchs of the pack were put in repose, and swallow tails superseded 
 the flowing bed-gow T n like coats. Crop-eared horses disappeared,, 
 and whitening-brush tails were succeeded by long swiches. 
 
 Still there were always two parties in the hunt, those who admired 
 the old system, and those who advocated the new, and Lawyer Lappy's 
 oracular decision operated very prejudicially upon pace. They would 
 not like to lose the rents, which had increased amazingly since Mr. 
 Heavyside's time. So they jangled and wrangled on season after 
 season, each side declaring the others were the most stupid and imprac- 
 ticable people imaginable. At length they got to the point of dissention 
 that resulted in the application to Mr. Bomford. They could bear 
 each other no longer, and wrote to know if Mr. Bomford would under- 
 take to hunt their country three days a week for £800 a year, each 
 side being determined to screw the other up to the utmost. 
 
 Now though £800 a year seems a very small sum when compared 
 with the book estimates, and considering the great opportunities 
 a pack of hounds afford for spending money, yet £800 a year well 
 administered will go a good way towards sport, especially with a man- 
 like Mr. Bomford, who knew the value of money, and meant to work 
 the thing himself. Then too the H. H. had a fat huntsman, one 
 Jonathan Lotherington, who absorbed the best part of £100 a year, 
 and yet wouldn't ride over a water furrow, an aggravating circumstance 
 to gentlemeu who liked to see a man come gallantly over a hedge, and 
 
26 ;\IR. FACEY ROAIFOIID'S HOUNDS. 
 
 calculate what tliey themselves would do or try to do it for. This £100 
 Eacey would save by hunting the hounds himself, and there were many 
 other little items that he knew how to lop off or reduce. Of course he 
 didn't tell the H. H. gentlemen this; on the contrary, he pooh-poohed the 
 subscription, declaring it would do nothing for him, but that was only to 
 excite them to further endeavours, and enforce the propriety of early 
 and punctual payment. He determined from the first not to miss it, 
 unless of course he saw his way to something better. 
 
 Indeed he talked, or rather wrote, so magnificently that some of them 
 wished he mightn't be too great a man for their money. Lucy, who 
 wrote a good hand and managed the literary department for him, was 
 much struck with the grandeur of his views, and wondered that a 
 gentleman who could do so much should make such a noise about 
 a trumpery sivin pun ten. Meanwhile the H. H. gentlemen wer Q . 
 staunch and anxious, only too eager to close with such a desirable 
 gentleman, and the anxiety was not diminished by a reference to 
 Burke, which showed that the owner of Abbeyfield Park was a 
 bachelor, heir presumptive, his brother Augustus Umfreville. 
 
 Some of the young ladies thought they would like to save Augustus 
 Umfreville the trouble of thinking of it. At length they got a bargain 
 struck : So much money down, so much more in the middle, so much 
 at the end of the season, and Facey strutted up Regent Street as if 
 both sides of the way were his, and the middle too. It was Mr. 
 Romford, M. F. H., Mr. Romford, master of the Heavyside hounds. 
 And he drank his own health in a copious bowl of Blue Posts baked 
 punch, and then bought Lucy a splendid tiara of brilliants in Burling- 
 ton Arcade. Price two pound ten. Hoo-ray ! for Mr. Romford ! 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 GONE AWAY ! 
 
 As ill-luck would have it, the very day that saw Mr. Romford elevated 
 into a master of hounds, placed him in an awkward position with Mrs. 
 Spouge. Soapey, as we said before, had not been a good husband. So 
 long as the betting lists lasted, and he could pigeon the greenhorns, he 
 was all very well, and attended to the shop, but when they were abolished, 
 and Sir Richard Mayne's cab-fares superseded those of his favourite 
 author Mr. Mogg, Soapey grew more and more out-of-door-ish, horsey, 
 
GONE AWAY i 27 
 
 and Hornsey-wood-ish, until at last upon Lucy devolved the entire 
 Responsibility of making the pot boil. Still, they might have done pretty 
 well with the cigar shop alone ; for the abolition of the betting lists 
 operated favourably in the baccy line by drawing a goodly number of 
 young swells into the shop, who had theretofore been kept at bay by 
 the appearance of Sponge ; but unfortunately he spent more than the 
 swells brought in, so the concern was rapidly retrogi-ading. At this 
 juncture came Facey Romford, as before mentioned, whose great athletic 
 frame and keen watchful eye cleared the course like a constable. The 
 lawful owner even, too, durstn't show, for there was thai sivin pun ten 
 scored against him, and as the take in the till grew dail) less, the less 
 Sponge cared to come to count it. And now, on this auspicious day, 
 when Facey came to crown her with the tiara on the glorious termina- 
 tion of the hound treaty, he was met by Lucy with the serious announce- 
 ment that Mr. S. (for she did not care to mention the name) had bolted, 
 — bolted with the spoons and all the loose cash. 
 
 She had just received a letter with the Euston Square post-mark 
 upon it, saying, he was off to Liverpool, to catch one of the Black Ball 
 liae of clipper packets for Australia, and would write to her again 
 when he got there. 
 
 "Bolted!" exclaimed Facey, his lively imagination realising the 
 position as quickly as did that of the old gentleman who had the child 
 pawned off upon him in the City omnibus.* "Bolted! " repeated he, 
 twitching out a liberal sample of his cane-coloured beard as he spoke, 
 and examining it by the fan gas-light of the counter. 
 
 Facey did not like it ; Lucy neither. Though Soapey had not been 
 a good Sponge to her of late, still she now realised her old aphorism, 
 that a bad husband was a deal better than none. Facey feared to have 
 a woman thrown upon him just at this critical moment of his 
 preferment, when he thought he saw heiresses rising in shoals to 
 contend for his hand. He now wished he had forfeited the sivin 
 pun ten. 
 
 " Whatever am I to do?" exclaimed poor Lucy, clasping her hands, 
 with tearful upturned eyes. " Nathan Levy has fixed to be here at 
 
 * "Would you have the goodness to hold the baby while I get out ?" asked a 
 young woman of a respectable-looking gentleman sitting next her, at the same 
 time placing it on his knee. The next thing he saw, was the young woman 
 disappearing in the thick of the crowd by the Mansion House. The omnibus 
 went on, the gentleman sitting with his little charge, saying nothing. When, 
 however, it stopped again, at the end of Cheapside, he repeated the operation on 
 liis next neighbour, saying, "Would you have the goodness to hold the child while 
 I get out." When, having done so, he instantly disappeared up St. Mr.rtiu's-lo- 
 Unuid. 
 
23 MR. FACEY ROJIFORD'S H0UND3, 
 
 twelve o'clock to-morrow for his rent, and there isn't a halfpenny to 
 meet it with." 
 
 " Humph ! " growled Facey, taking another pull at his beard. 
 
 "He'll seize whatever he finds," ejaculated Lucy. 
 
 " Then the less you leave him to find the better," replied Facey. 
 " Whose are these things?" asked he, knocking the mahogany counter 
 with his knuckles, and nodding promiscuously at the gas and general 
 tittings around. 
 
 " Some are his, and some are ours," replied Lucy. 
 
 ""Well, then, I'll tell you what, you just go and convert them," 
 said Facey, "and bolt too." 
 
 " But where am I to go ? "What am I to do ? " 
 
 "Plenty of places to go to! — plenty to do," rejoined Bomford, with 
 the confidence of a man well established himself. 
 
 Lucy hesitated assent. 
 
 " Set up a register-office, start a school, teach dancing, give lessons 
 in riding, return to the stage, — a hundred ways of making money in 
 this great, rich metropolis." 
 
 Facey determined that, come what might, he would not be encum- 
 bered with her himself. He was a very moral man, especially 
 when it was his interest to be so, and was not going to prejudice 
 his chance of getting an heiress by — even the semblance of an illicit 
 connection. 
 
 "But why not go to your mother?" asked Facey, who he knew 
 was a theatrical dresser, living at Hart Street, Covent Garden. 
 
 " Oh, my mother has a3 much as she can manage to keep herself," 
 sighed Lucy. 
 
 " "Well, but you can stop there, at all events, for the present," 
 observed Facey, "till summut turns up." 
 
 The result of a long conference was, that the little slip-shod girl of 
 the house was sent to Wardour Street for a furniture broker, to whom 
 Lucy sold everything for ready money, with a stipulation that it was 
 all to be cleared away that night, and, having packed up her clothes, 
 together with the remaining stock of cheroots and manillas, she drove 
 off in a four-wheeled cab to her mother in Hart Street, there to rumi- 
 nate on the past and contemplate the future. 
 
 Next morning, "The Sponge Cigar "Warehouse, wholesale, eetatl, 
 and foe exportation," was closed ! 
 
 And when Nathan Levy heard the said news, he wrung his hands in 
 anguish, vowing that he was utterly and inextricably ruined. Never ! 
 no never, should he get over it. 
 
 And selfish Facey, having established Mrs. Sponge, presently took 
 
MINSHULL VERNOff. 29 
 
 his departure to look after his hounds, very glad that things had 
 terminated as they had done, for at one time he thought they looked 
 very ominous. 
 
 The reader will therefore now have the goodness to accompany 
 Mr. M. F. H. llomford into the country. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 MIXSHULL VERNON. 
 
 Railways have destroyed the romance of travelling. Bulwer him- 
 self could not make anything out of a collision, and trains, trucks, 
 trams, and tinkling hells are equally intractahle. No robbing, no 
 fighting, no benighting, no run-away-ing. One journey is very much 
 like another, save that the diagonal shoots across country are dis- 
 tinguished by a greater number of changes. But with the exception 
 of certain level crossings, certain mountings up, certain divings down 
 like a man changing his floor at a lodging, there is really nothing 
 to celebrate. It's, " Away you go ! "or, " Here you are ! " 
 
 The H. H. country had scarcely been screeched and whistled awake 
 by the noise of railways. It had few requirements that way. 
 
 There were no factories, no tall chimneys, no coal pits, no potteries, 
 no nothing. The grass grew in the streets of what were called the 
 principal towns, where the rattle of a chaise would draw all heads to 
 the windows. The people seemed happy and contented, more inclined 
 to enjoy what they had than disposed to risk its possession in the 
 pursuit of more. In fact, they might be called a three per cent, sort of 
 people in contradistinction to the raving rapacity of modern cupidity. 
 
 It was long after dark ere the little dribbling single line branch 
 railway, that Mr. llomford had adopted by means of a sort of triumphal 
 arch on quitting the main one at Langford Green, deposited him at 
 the quiet little town of Minshull Vernon, the nearest point to the H. 
 H. kennel. He had been in and out of so many trains, paced the 
 platforms of so many stations, and read the announcements of so many 
 waiting rooms, that he felt as if he had traversed half the kingdom, 
 and was thankful to get his luggage out for the last time in a quiet, 
 unhurrying way. The train was twenty minutes behind time as it 
 was, and the guard did not seem to care if he made it thirty before he 
 got to the end of his short but slow journey. Minshull Vernon was a 
 
30 mi?, facey eomford's hounds. 
 
 very small station, too insignificant for any advertiser save a Tempe- 
 rance Hotel keeper and a soda-water maker to patronize. Even their 
 placards looked worn and dejected. There wasn't a bu3 or a cab or a 
 fly or a vehicle of any sort in attendance, only a little boy, who how- 
 ever was willing to carry any quantity of luggage. Such a contrast 
 to the leaving in London. 
 
 Finding there were but two Inns in the place, The "White Swan, 
 and The "West End Swell, our friend, true to his colours, patronised the 
 latter, and was presently undergoing the usual inquiry "what he 
 would like for supper," from a comely hostess, Mrs. Lock wood, the 
 widow of a London groom, who in all probability had christened the 
 house after his master. Romford wasn't a dainty man, and having 
 narrowed the larder to the usual point of beef steaks and mutton chops, 
 he said he'd have both, which he afterwards supplemented by a large 
 cut of leathery cheese. Two pipes and two glasses of brandy and water, 
 one to his own health, the other to that of the hounds, closed the per- 
 formance, after which he rolled off to bed in a pair of "West End Swell 
 slippers. He was soon undressed, in bed, and asleep. 
 
 Facey couldn't tell where he was in the morning. The excitement 
 of the journey, the rapidity of events, all tended to confuse him. 
 
 He wasn't at Mother Maggison's, for he had no curtains to his bed 
 there, besides, that game was all up. It wasn't Beak Street ; for those 
 were brown and these were green ; then it came across him where he was, 
 and with a victorious swing of his great muscular arm, he bounded out 
 of bed with a thump that nearly sent him through the old dry rotting 
 floor. Mrs. Lockwood thought it was the chimney-stack coming 
 down. 
 
 Never having heard of Minshull Vernon before, of course Facey had 
 not formed any expectations as to appearance ; but when he came to 
 look out of his window he found quite a different sort of place to what 
 it looked over night. In lieu of a dull formal street he found himself 
 on the reach of a beautiful river with its clear translucent streams 
 sparkling in the morning sun. "Dash it but here's fishing," said 
 Facey as he eyed the still trout holes — adding, " I'll be in to you, by 
 fair means or foul." Having made a general survey of the scene, 
 he then halloaed down- stairs for hot water just as he used to do at 
 old Mother Maggison's, and forthwith proceeded to shave and array 
 himself. 
 
 Having ordered his breakfast, coffee and sausages, for which latte;- 
 Minshull Vernon is famous, Facey put on his buttoned boots and 
 turned out for a stroll in the street. It was a seedy -looking place, all 
 the shops doing double duty, with no apparent pre-eminence among 
 
MINSHULL VERNON. 81 
 
 them. Jugs and basins commingled with ladies' hoops, flour and fruit 
 stood side by side, marbles and mustard were in the same bowl. 
 Jjesom makers and beer shops seemed to predominate. At length 
 Facey found a saddler's, or rather half a saddler's, for he dealt in 
 cheese as well, far different to the saddler's in whose window he drew 
 in inspiration in Oxford Street. This was Toby Trotter, a first-rate 
 gossip and liberal tipper of servants who brought work to his shop. 
 To hear the tippees talk, one would think there wasn't such another 
 shop in the kingdom. Such leather, such sewing, snch workmanship 
 generally. Toby was what they call a jobbing saddler, a man who 
 worked out by the day, either so much money and his meals, or so 
 much money without his meals; but as people found that Toby 
 managed to get his meals either way, they mostly adopted the system 
 of paying and feeding him. This gave him a fine opportunity for 
 picking up news, and many a story and many an arrangement that 
 people thought quite snug all among themselves was promulgated at 
 Toby's shop. All the queer rumours and scandals in the county could 
 be traced up to him. He had heard when taking his usual night-cap 
 that there was an arrival at the AVest End Swell, and was on the look 
 out for a view. He now saw Facey coming, and began busying himself 
 with the arrangement of a bunch of brass nailed cart whips hanging at 
 the shop door. Toby was a little bald turnip-headed roundabout whitc- 
 aproned man, who looked as if you could trundle him down street like 
 a beer barrel, it first he thought Facey was a bagman — we beg 
 pardon, representative of a commercial establishment — a conjecture 
 that was speedily dissipated by his stopping short and asking for a set 
 of spur straps. Toby had none by him, but would make him a set in 
 a minute, which was just what Facey wanted, the imparlance, not the 
 leathers, being the object of his visit. A saddler's is always the place 
 to pick up sporting news, just as a confectioner's is the one to pick up 
 matrimonial intelligence. So our friend entered and took a seat on a 
 stool wbile Toby busied himself for what he wanted. Nay more, 
 Facey made a mental inventory of the shop, and estimated its contents, 
 cheese and all, at some eighteen pound odd. This, too, while he was 
 talking on indifferent subjects with Toby. Our friend's honours were 
 too novel and recent to admit of his keeping them to himself; and 
 Toby, who was a bungler, had scarcely begun to cut ere Facey let out 
 that he was the new master of the Heavy side hunt. Great was Toby's 
 awe and astonishment, and his hand shook and his cutter jibbed in a 
 ^ay that made very slovenly workmanship. Nevertheless his tongue 
 «vent glibly enough, and he presently inducted Facey into his country, 
 told him who kept a good house, who kept a middling one, who kept 
 
32 mr. facey romford's hounds. 
 
 a slj abby one, whose keeper shot the foxes, whose sold the pheasants, 
 whose trapped the hares, whose wanted palming. Altogether, gave 
 him a very satisfactory insight into what he might expect. And Toby 
 declined taking payment for the spur leathers, handing Facey a card, 
 and hoping he would allow him the honour of opening an account 
 with him, a request that Facey was obliging enough to grant. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE H. H. HOUNDS. 
 
 There are few things so faithful as a dish of sausages, not the indi- 
 gestible leadeny things cooks make in the country, but the light savoury 
 productions of the practised hand; and friend Facey having eaten about 
 a pound and a half of Minshull Vernon ones felt equal to any emergency, 
 he didn't think he would ever be hungry again, so he didn't pocket his 
 customary crust. Finding that the kennel was only seven miles off by 
 the fields, he determined to attempt the expedition by the usual 
 mystifying directions of the local bumpkins : "Ye mun gan to the Old 
 "Wood toll-gate and then torn to the left and then to the reet, and then 
 keep straight endways till ye come to the pound, and then take the Hay 
 Bridge Hill road till ye come to a four lane ends, after which ye cross the 
 common and come oot by Newbiggin toon end," all very plain sailing 
 to a practised person, but quite bewildering to a stranger. However, 
 Facey was used to country people's directions, and by dint of keeping 
 the kennel question steadily in view, he succeeded in reaching it in 
 about double the distance he expected. Still, he did not care much for 
 the detour, consoling himself with the reflection that he was seeing the 
 country, and would be able to rectify his mistakes in returning. He 
 now pulled up on a rising ground, a short way off, to contemplate the 
 unmistakeable brick and slate structure standing on the slope of a cor- 
 responding hill opposite. 
 
 11 Its courts 
 On either hand wide opening to receive 
 The sun's all-cheering beams, when mild he shines 
 And gilds the mountain tops." 
 
 "Vary good," muttered Romford, eyeing it, "vary good, the 
 stables I see are behind, clock in the middle, corn lofts above — have 
 
THE H. H. HOUNDS. 33 
 
 seen many a worse-looking place than that." Facey feeling his own 
 consequence involved in the appearance. 
 
 He then sunk the hill, and crossing along a little rustic foot bridge 
 over a gurgling stream, presently deserted the foot path for the more 
 generous amplitude of the kennel-surrounding carriage way. 
 
 Our friend was now at one of the hunt-endowed farms, Allerton by 
 name, greatly altered and improved since Mr. Heavy side's time. 
 Indeed, its value had been more than quadrupled. 
 
 A bright green door with a highly polished brass knocker placed 
 between diamond -patterned paned windows, now announced the 
 huntsman's house, and making for it, a very slight rat-a-tat brought a 
 little hooped servant girl to answer it. 
 
 " Mister What' s-his-name at home ? " asked Facey, who had either 
 never heard, or had forgotten, the huntsman's patronymic. 
 
 " Mr. Lotherington's in the kennel, sir," replied the girl, dropping a 
 curtsey. 
 
 " Then tell him Mr. Romford's here," said Facey, thinking to have 
 the whole establishment all out in a rush. 
 
 "Please sir, Mr. Bamford' s here," said the girl. 
 
 " Bamford, Bamford, know no such name; tell him to coom in," said 
 the Yorkshireman, who was busy in a kennel conference. 
 
 Jonathan Lotherington was a self-sufficient man, who firmly 
 believed in the perfection of everything around him, consequently he 
 never went from home, for change or advice. People might imitate 
 him, he said, but he copied nobody. His was the glass to dress 
 by. Jonathan had been many years with the Heavyside hounds, and 
 though he came out beef-ier and beef-ier every season, he never 
 recognised any change in himself. He thought, indeed, he rather 
 improved than otherwise. He now rode eighteen stone, a grand 
 weight, he said, for making horses steady and careful at their 
 leaps. 
 
 Still, he had his admirers among the H. H., few more sincere than 
 Colonel Chatterbox, with whom he was then conversing. The Colonel 
 had been one of the old "Brothers Heavyside," and always regretted 
 the change that had taken place in the name. When Jonathan and he 
 joined their sapience together they were very convincing. They could 
 unravel a run and kill foxes over again. They were in the middle of a 
 long towl about a twenty years' old run from Lovedale Gorse to Brierly 
 Banks, when the little girl interrupted the narrative. Though they 
 were both very " 'cute," according to their own accounts, and were in 
 daily expectation of the new master, yet they neither of them thought 
 Bamford might be Romford, and so returned to the point where the 
 
S4 MR. FACET ROMFORD'S HOUNDS. 
 
 confounded coursers headed the fox on Frankton open fields and drove 
 him off the finest line of country that ever was seen. 
 
 When Romford rolled in, the fat huntsman was standing before the 
 fat Colonel, each poking away at the other's ribs, as they made their 
 -successful hits and recollections of the run. They were quite enthu- 
 siastic on the subject. Romford had no difficulty in recognising the 
 huntsman, for he was attired in the last year's .robes of office, viz., a 
 purply lapped coat, warm breeches and boots — a hat instead of a cap, 
 and the absence of spurs, was all that denoted the non-hunting day. 
 The Colonel was green-coated, buff- vested, white- corded, and leather- 
 gaitered. Carmelite had taken the liberty of wiping his feet on his 
 cords, leaving him the only consolation that they were the second day 
 on. Jonathan and he were now both prepared against farther assaults 
 in the shape of kennel- whips held under their arms. 
 
 Though they both saw Romford coming, they neither of them 
 thought a man in such a shabby hat, and seedy paletot, with his 
 Sydenham trousers turned up at the bottom, worth their attention, so 
 they just went on poking and talking as before. 
 
 " Well, old boy," said Romford, laying his heavy hand on Jonathan 
 Lotherington' s shoulder, " I've come to see these 'ere canine dogs." 
 
 "Presently, sir, presently," snapped Lotherington, as much as to 
 say, who are you, pray, that thus interrupts? 
 
 "Presently!" retorted Romford; adding, "I'm Mr. Romford, the 
 new master." 
 
 Lotherington started at the announcement. Off went the hat with 
 a sweep, commensurate with a five pound tip, looking as if it would 
 never be restored. The Colonel, too, raised his a little, and salutations 
 being over, Faeey renewed his application to see the hounds. 
 
 " Certainly, sir, certainly," replied Lotherington, presenting Facey 
 with a dress-protecting switch, holloaing at the same time, " Michael ! 
 here, lad ! coom ! " to his whip. 
 
 The lad, who was about sixty, came shambling along in the peculiar 
 manner of dismounted horsemen, and' passing out of the flagged court 
 in which the Colonel and Lctherington had been having their kennel" 
 lecture, they entered the nrsc lodging-house yard beyond. The door 
 being opened, the hounds were turned off their warm benches by the 
 lad, and came yawning and stretching themselves, giving an occasional 
 bay, as much as to say, what are you bothering us about now ? Mr. 
 Romford, like a general at a review, then took up a favourable position 
 from which he could criticise their looks. There were several throaty 
 splay-footed crooked -legged animals among them, and Mr. Romford 
 thought there was scarcely one that he could not find a fault in. 
 
THE H. H. HOUNDS. 35 
 
 Howe, rer, that he kept to himself, pretending to imbibe all Lothering- 
 ton and the Colonel said in their praise. At length the Yorkshireman, 
 having rather over-egged the pudding with his praise, Mr. Romford 
 observed that he thought some of them must be kept for their goodness 
 rather than their beauty. This only made the parties more vehement, 
 and as Facey had not the means of confuting them, he made what he 
 thought the amende honorable by saying they might be better than 
 they looked. They then proceeded to the other yard. It was ditto 
 repeated. More blear eyes, more flat sides, more weak loins. But 
 Lotherington assured him he could carry their pedigrees right back 
 into the last century. 
 
 " So much the worse," muttered Romford. Then he continued hio 
 silent criticism. "Well," at length said he, "the proof of the 
 puddin's in the eatin', and I'll see them in the field before I say any- 
 thing. Let me see," continued he, diving into his paletot and fishing 
 up his "Life," "Wednesday, that's to-morrow, Shivering Hill; 
 Saturday, Oakenshaw Wood. What sort of a place i3 Oakenshaw 
 Wood?" asked Romford. 
 
 " Very good, sir," said Lotherington. 
 
 "Very good," assented the Colonel. 
 
 " Then I shall most likely be there," said Romford, returning 
 Lotherington his switch, adding, "and now I must be off, for the 
 days are short, the road's dirty, and I don't know my way." So 
 saying, with a sort of half bow half nod to the Colonel, he rolled out 
 of the kennel. 
 
 But that Abbeyfield Park kept it down, the Colonel would have 
 said "he's a rum un." Lotherington, less awed, thus expressed his 
 opinion to his friend Grimstone, the head groom, who, as usual, came, 
 crab-like, down from the stables to hear what was up. 
 
 " Ar think nout o' this Romford, mister," said he. " Why, he cam 
 to kennel i' buttoned boots ! cam to kennel i' buttoned boots ! " as if it 
 was impossible for a man to be a sportsman who wore such things. 
 And Grimstone shook his head as much as to say he " wouldn't do." 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE DEBUT. 
 
 No man -with money in his pocket need ever be long in want of a 
 harse, this Mr. Facey Romford well knew, having bought four-legged 
 ones, three-legged ones, and two-legged ones; all sorts of horses, in fact. 
 He had bought horses with money and without — more perhaps with- 
 out than with. He would take them on trial, buy them if he saw be 
 could sell them for more than was asked, or pay or promise so much 
 for their use if returned. And being a bold resolute rider, people had 
 no objection to seeing him shove their horses along, feeling perhaps 
 that they came in for part of the credit of the performance. Many of 
 them thought what they would give to be able to spin them along as 
 Facey did. 
 
 Having regained Minshull Yernon, with the omission of several of 
 the angles he had made in going to the kennel, he refreshed bis inner 
 man, and then bethought him of farther cultivating the acquaintance 
 of his morning friend, Toby Trotter. Toby was in the "West-end 
 Swell, being a member of the Jolly Owls' Club, which met there every 
 other night, and gladly availed himself of the invitation to drink at 
 Mr. Romford's expense instead of his own. Besides, the honour of the 
 thing was very considerable ; A Master of Fox Hounds ! — He had 
 drank with many eminent men — commercial gentlemen — represen- 
 tatives as they called themselves, — but never with anything approach- 
 ing such eminence. So he pulled up his pointed gills, readjusted his 
 cameo brooch, and proceeded to answer the summons. At first the 
 Owl was inclined to stand, but Romford insisted upon his sitting, and 
 each having got his favourite beverage, rum to the Owl, gin to the 
 Master, together with pipes, they drew to the fire and had a very 
 discursive discussion with regard to the country and its sporting 
 capabilities generally. From him Facey learned that there were 
 several young farmers with goodish-like horses who might be equitably 
 dealt with — men who wouldn't ask three hundred when they meant 
 to take thirty — and Facoy having got the names and addresses of 
 Bome of these, borrowed Bullock the butcher's pony the next 
 morning and set off in quest of the needful. He wanted a mount 
 
THE DEBUT. -37 
 
 for the Saturday, and almost the first place he came to, viz., youn<» 
 Mr. Dibble of Cumberledge, supplied the deficiency : Dibble was 
 going to be married to the pretty Miss Snowball and wouldn't want 
 his horse during the honeymoon, and finding who he had for a 
 customer, he unhesitatingly placed him at Mr. Romford's disposal, 
 declining all mention of money. If Mr. Romford liked him, well and 
 good — they then could talk about it after; if not, he could return 
 him, and would be welcome to the loan. Dibble was not one of the 
 6well order of farmers, who ride in scarlet and spurt the mud in 
 their landlords' faces, but a quiet-going respectable young man, who 
 got his day or two a week out of a great raking, snaffle-bridled, cock- 
 thropped, chestnut horse, with white stockings; like Facey, himself 
 rather deficient on one side of his head, his "fatther" being the 
 gentleman, and his " moother " a cart mare. However, he could 
 "gollop," as Lotherington said, and leap almost anything when he 
 was not blown. Independently of the usual trimming these sort of 
 animals always want about the heels, a farmer's condition is seldom 
 first rate, and the Dragon of Wantley, as the horse was called, would 
 have been better for a little trimming all over; but this was precisely 
 where Facey was deficient — he had no idea of neatness, let alone 
 style, and put hunting upon much the same rough footing as shooting. 
 "What's the use of dressing up fine when one's going to dirty oneself 
 directly?" he used to say, so the Dragon of Wantley and his rider were 
 much upon a par. Facey not having thought it worth his while to 
 get the dribbling cow-boy ostler of the "West End Swell to take the 
 >iong hairs off the horse any more than to try to put any lustre upon his 
 own rusty Napoleons ; and being quite a man for the morning, our 
 friend, having made a most substantial sausage breakfast, mounted 
 betimes to ride the Dragon of "Wantley quietly on to the meet, calling 
 as he went down street at Toby Trotter's for one of his pig-jobber- 
 Like whips in lieu of the Malacca-cane-sticked one he had left at 
 Mother Maggison's for the inexorable County Court Bailiffs. And 
 now, being fully accoutred, Facey got the Dragon by the head, and 
 giving him a touch of his persuasive spurs, tried his pace along the 
 Westfield road. He was a strong light-going horse for his size, above 
 sixteen hands, and seemed rather pleased than otherwise at carrying 
 a pink, making Facey hope for his better acquaintance before night- 
 fco they proceeded gaily along through highways and byeways accord- 
 ing as the pioneering grooms directed the course, from whom, how- 
 ever, Facey did not receive many complimentary caps. He arrived at 
 the meet just as the hounds came up. 
 
 It having transpired that Mr. Romford would be out at Oakenshaw 
 
38 MR. FACET ROMFORD'S HOUNDS. 
 
 "Wool, there was a great gathering of the H. H. to greet the new 
 master, and many were the times Lotherington was asked by ambling 
 up horsemen if " Mr. Romford had come," the inquirers taking the 
 shabby old scarlet sitting slouching among the hounds to contain young 
 Tom Snowball, the bride's brother, going to take his change out of 
 the Dragon of Wantley, during the aforesaid honeymoon. And of 
 course there was a good deal of awkwardness and many pantomimic 
 gestures necessary to prevent further explosion, and stop people from 
 saying what perhaps they ought not to say. It is very disagreeable to 
 be talked of as if one was absent. 
 
 And, as ill luck would have it, neither of the gentlemen with whom 
 Facey had corresponded were out, and Colonel Chatterbox, the only 
 member of the hunt who had seen him before, had got a bad attack of 
 rheumatism from his day on the flags, where they met. So that there 
 was really nobody to receive and introduce the owner of Abbeyfield 
 Park to the field. However, Facey didn't care much about that sort 
 of thing, and having stared at the hounds as much as the field stared 
 at him, he asked Lotherington if they hadn't better be moving. 
 
 " Generally give a quarter-of an-hour's law," replied Lotherington,, 
 with a semi-touch of the cap. 
 
 " Do you," retorted Facey, " devilish bad plan — I'd advertise an 
 hour, and keep to it." 
 
 "Well, sir, what you please, sir," rejoined Lotherington, in a more 
 subdued tone, for there was a determination about Facey that as good 
 as said he meant to be master. 
 
 " Be off, then," said Facey, getting the Dragon of Wantley short by 
 the head, giving him at the same time a refresher on the shoulder with 
 the pig jobber whip, and a touch of the spur in the flank. This then 
 gave the field, who had only hitherto enjoyed a side and a back view 
 of our friend, the benefit of a front one also, thus exhibiting his 
 watchful pig eyes, a peculiar expression of countenance, his battered 
 hat and shabby shirt. No one knows how ungentlemanly he can 
 look, until he has seen himself in a shocking bad hat. The field drew 
 into line as he passed with the hounds to have a good stare, which 
 Facey returned with a scrutinising sidelong glance at them all, em- 
 bracing both riders and horses, with a running commentary in his own 
 mind, as to which were the fifties, which the twenties, and which the 
 ten pound subscribers to the hounds. But there was no salute or re- 
 cognition on either 6ide, and as the Dragon of "Wantley was well 
 known, there was great curiosity excited on the subject. " Where 
 the deuce did he get the Dragon of Wantley?" asked one. " Did you 
 ever see such a coat?" asked another. "Bought it off the pegs. 
 
OAKENSHAW WOOD. 39 
 
 I should think," observed a third. "Boots and breeches are a dead 
 match," observed a fourth. "How much for the lot?" exclaimed a 
 fifth. " Hard-bitten -looking beggar," observed a sixth. "Let's be 
 on and see what he does," added another, spurring in front and thus 
 leading the field. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 OAKENSHAW WOOD. 
 
 If Jonathan Lotherington thought little of Mr. Romford in his 
 buttoned boots, he thought less of him now that be saw him in his 
 hunting costume mounted on the familiar Dragon of "Wantley. He 
 hadn't seen such a coat, such a hat, such breeches and boots, he didn't 
 know when. They looked fitter for an earth-stopper, or a cad down 
 TattersalTs entry, than for a master of hounds. Jonathan on his part 
 was spicy and gay, having on his first-class coat, first-class cap, first- 
 class everything, in addition to which he was mounted on his best 
 horse, North Star, and sat as corkily in his stirrups as a man of 
 his years and weight could do. In fact there was a little affected 
 activity in his movements, as if he wished to make Mr. Romford 
 believe he was young. But for Facey's impudence at the kennel, 
 Jonathan would rather have pitied him riding solitarily along with 
 nobody noticing him ; as it was, he thought to patronise him through 
 the medium of his horse. 
 
 "Got Mr. Dibble's old hoss, I see," observed he, looking the Dragon 
 of "Wantley over. 
 
 "Ay, what sort of a nag is he ?" asked Romford, giving the horse a 
 familiar slap on the ribs with his hand. 
 
 " Good hoss — gallops well," replied Jonathan. " Loups too." 
 
 This was satisfactory to Romford, who hoped to put both qualities 
 to the test before evening. So they trotted on familiarly as before, 
 each party examining the other critically, Jonathan thinking there 
 wouldn't be much credit in serving buttoned boots, buttoned boott 
 thinking Jonathan was not at all like a man for his money. 
 
 " P'raps you'd like to see me find my fox," now said Jonathan, 
 consequentially, as they neared the little bridle gate leading into the 
 east end of Oakenshaw Wood. 
 
 " Go along," replied Facey, and at a wave of the hand away wont 
 
40 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 the hounds, distributing themselves equably over the ground, sniffing 
 and snuffing and questing as they went. Then Jonathan, who had a 
 musical voice and could find a fox if he couldn't hunt one, began 
 yoicking and cheering and cracking his whip, little doubting that 
 buttoned boots would be very much struck with his skill, — if he wasn't, 
 Jonathan thought he wouldn't give much for his judgment. And as 
 hounds know where the fox lies nearly as well as their masters, 
 Pillager and Pilgrim were quickly feathering on the line, but not yet 
 venturing to speak. At length Pillager gives a whimper, Pilgrim 
 gives a challenge which Driver and Duster endorse with their usual 
 vehemence, and Jonathan caps the whole with one of his XX. 
 stentorian cheers. Then the chorus fills, hounds come tearing pell- 
 mell to the place, horses jump and plunge with delight, while their 
 riders funk or rejoice according to the stuff of which they are made. 
 The wood rings with the melody, driving every denizen out save the 
 fox, who takes a liberal swing of its ample dimensions to see which 
 side affords the most convenient point of egress. He is a long -toothed 
 full-brushed gray-backed old fellow, who has had many a game of 
 romps with Jonathan and his followers, and does not despair of beating 
 them again (though he has had rather a heavy supper) as he has 
 beaten them before, only he wants a fair start and not to be bullied on 
 leaving, chased by a cur or a lurcher, or turned over by a great daft 
 greyhound whose followers take him for a tiger. Twenty couple of 
 hounds are enough for any animal to contend with, even when light 
 and full of running. So he plods diligently along, eyes well forward, 
 ears well back, listening to where he hears his noisy friends and their 
 vociferous huntsman. Coston Corner is blocked by a great leather- 
 legged man with a gun. Three or four unfortunates who never come 
 to the meet arrive at the high gate just as the fox comes up, or he 
 would have tried his luck for the third time over Amberley Common 
 and away for the main earths at Frankton "Wood. However, the fall 
 of the ground here gives him a view of the adjacent country, and the 
 grjen fields of Longville look very inviting, so running the wood well 
 as long as it served, he drops quietly down into the deep Dillington 
 Road, and presently swerving to the left, by keeping the low ground, is 
 never seen until he is half over "VVarrenlaw Hill. And the hounds 
 having been brought to a check at the wall, Jonathan, never suspecting 
 such an unhandsome cat-like performance, is holding them back into 
 the wood, thinking the fox may have lain down in a drain, when the 
 first distant note of surprise ripens into a nearer holloa, and the man 
 with the gun next gives a most unmistakeable Tallyho ! as he views 
 him stealing quietly over the crown of the hill. Oakenshaw "Wood is 
 
OAKENSHAW WOOD. 41 
 
 again electrified, horses are got shorter by the head, seats adjusted, and 
 riders prepared to follow their respective leaders. Some men are quite 
 lost in a wood. 
 
 And now friend Romford, who has kept well down wind hearing 
 every note and cheer that was given, gets the Dragon of Wantley hard 
 by the head, and lets in his Latchfords, determined to see what he is 
 made of. He presently gets into a deep clanging ride, whose distance 
 was closed by a group of flying red coats, ami setting the Dragon's 
 head straight that way, he scuttled up its length, and emerged with the 
 last of the tail into the Billington road. 
 
 "Which way?" "which way?" was the cry as the sportsmen 
 looked right and left for the double line of hedgerows denoting a 
 road. 
 
 The first thing Mr. Facey saw on coming up was the hounds con- 
 siderably in advance of the huntsman, the next thing was said hunts- 
 man dancing and prancing at his fence. At length he went over, and 
 a great show of activity then took place as he spurted up a wet 
 furrow. Then there came another fence and another furrow, so that 
 if the hounds had been a quick mettlesome pack they would infallibly 
 have run clean away from him. 
 
 As it was they were laboriously respectable, like the merchants of old, 
 who made their fortunes more by saving than by rapid dashing adven- 
 ture. Give the hounds time and they would generally wind up their fox, 
 but they must do it carefully and systematically, taking nothing on 
 trust, retaining in fact a good deal of the old Heavyside style of 
 suspicious proceeding. 
 
 Their noses were always in the right place, they had plenty of 
 music, were very truthful, and could get on with a bad scent better 
 than many ; but they were a lobbing set of goers, that a light-drawn 
 fox would leave immeasurably in the lurch. They were quite a petp- 
 of-day pack, notwithstanding their pretension to later hours. Lawyer 
 Lappy and the Brothers Heavyside had effectually kept them back. 
 
 Romford seeing at a glance how things were going, readily accepted 
 1 the pas the hesitating field seemed disposed to yield him, and 
 ' ramming the Dragon at a high mortar -coped wall, sent his coat laps 
 and bis character flying up together. 
 
 "Well done, seedy boots!" exclaimed dandy Captain Hollybrook, 
 v ho however did not offer to follow him. 
 
 ' Dash my buttons, but he can ride ! " exclaimed ugly Tom Slam, 
 with a jerk of his head, as he pulled his dun horse sharp round 
 preparatoiy to clattering along the Billington road. Then a greater 
 length of tail followed suit. In truth the H. H. were not rash men 
 
42 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 across country. They retained much of the prudence and caution of 
 the original Brethren, and always liked to see which way the fox 
 inclined before they began to bump. On this occasion there were 
 Peel's three courses open to him, Frankton Woods, Gatheridge Craigs, 
 and Bewley Hills. The fox was evidently undecided at first which 
 line to take, and until he settled the point, the field hesitated to 
 commit themselves to the perils of the chase. The roads weie very 
 convenient. Jonathan was more venturesome than usual, but that was 
 because he thought to astonish Mr. llomford, whose going powers he 
 greatly doubted. It was therefore with no very pleasurable sensations 
 that on looking back he saw our Herculean master sailing along on the 
 Dragon of Wantley, shoving him at his fences regardless of the gaps, 
 in a very determined sort of way. 
 
 Worst of all he began "for- ward, for -ward, forward-ing ! " to the 
 hounds as he came up, as though he were huntsman as well as master. 
 
 " Gently, hurrying ! " exclaimed Lotherington, holding up his hand 
 as if afraid Romford would drive them beyond the scent. 
 
 "Hurrying ! " exclaimed Romford, cracking his cart- whip, " why, 
 man, you don't call this going ! " adding, " a fox will last them a week 
 at this pace." 
 
 And Jonathan's broad back heaved with anger at the speech. 
 M Was there ever such a man ? " thought he. 
 
 The run then continued without further incident over Soberton 
 Meadows, past Holden Mill to Marwell, the pace somewhat better, with 
 easy fencing, and most accommodating gates. Here a short check 
 occurred which the hounds hit off by themselves, and then a swerve 
 to the left is answered by a turn of the upward road to the right, and 
 they cross the Little Pax ton Lane just as the ecstatic field come clatter- 
 ing along full of enthusiastic delight. 
 
 " Hold hard ! " is the order of the day, horses are pulled up, and all 
 eyes are strained to see the Invincibles carry the scent over the road. 
 Beautiful ! beautiful ! were there ever such hounds ? Truest pack in 
 the world ! as each particular Solomon issued his proclamation, that 
 the fox was on. 
 
 Up then comes Mr. Jonathan Lotherington on North Star, Jonathan 
 6adly out of his bearings, for he has been tempted into a field excur- 
 sion, instead of leaving the throaty old line-holders to carry the scent to 
 Bickwood Thicket, where they are evidently going, while he trotted 
 gallantly round by the road. Worst of all, they have crossed at a most 
 unfavourable place, there being no way out of the field, on the lane 
 side, save over a very uninviting ragged blackthorn fence with a wido 
 ditc^ "i the far side Jonathan had often contemplated it from tho 
 
OAKENSHAW WOOD. 43 
 
 road, but nev( r with any eye to leaping it ; now he began dancing and 
 prancing and wishing himself well over. 
 
 " Clear the course, old man ! " now exclaims Mr. Romford, coming 
 up at a canter, holding the Dragon of "Wantley well by the head, with 
 his cart whip brandishing on high, to give him a refresher. 
 
 " Old man ! " snapped Lotherington, looking round irately. 
 
 "Then old woman ! " retorted Romford, giving the cock-tail a cut 
 that sent him over with a bound — horse and rider landed well in the 
 road before the assembled field. "Without waiting 1o pick up the com- 
 pliments, Facey then rammed the Dragon at the opposite fence, a stiff 
 stake and wattle, with a rail beyond, and was again in the same field 
 as the hounds — Lotherington then led over. 
 
 And Eomford, being now in possession of the pack, shot alongside 
 the head hounds, capping and cheering the tail ones on the line. The 
 pace improved with the encouragement, and they went brisker and 
 keener over Otterton Moor, past Thatcham Hill, skirting Lockham 
 Green, and down into the depths of Fursdon "Wood, than they had done 
 any period of the run. 
 
 Meanwhile Mr. Jonathan Lotheiington, having accomplished his 
 lead over, being highly enraged at buttoned boots' interference with 
 the pack, and knowing the run of the fox, hustles North Star along, 
 and comes up the low ride just as the pack are swinging a cast at the 
 brook at the bottom of the wood ; some thinking the fox was back, 
 others that he was forward, Facey that he had caught sight of a 
 shooter, and turned short to the left. 
 
 And Lotherington being determined to have the hounds from Facey, 
 even if he rode them astray, out with his horn and blew a discordant 
 blast as he cantered past, pretending he was going to a holloa. But 
 certain of the sages being of Romford's opinion that the line was to 
 the left, persevered on that way, in spite alike of Jonathan's horn and 
 Michael's holloa. And scarcely had they got clear of the cold rutty 
 oart road than Affable struck a scent on some very indifferent seeds, 
 which Dashwood immediately endorsed with clamorous energy, and 
 away they went, followed by about half the pack who had hesitated 
 which side to obey. And Facey off with his shocking bad hat, and 
 cheered them to the echo. The field, too, thinking better of him 
 than they did at the meet, adopted his line ; so the now greatly 
 disconcerted Lotherington had to return at his leisure. " Oh, dear ! 
 oh, dear!" exclaimed he, knocking his horn mouth against his 
 cords, as he eyed Facey tearing away. "Too mony huntsmen mak 
 bad work, — too mony cooks spoil the broth, — too mony huntsmen 
 mak bad work." So he trotted sulkily along with the field, while 
 
44 MR. facet romford's hounds. 
 
 Mr. Romford stuck to the hounds along Bleaberry Banks, past Duck 
 End, and Lawford Grange, cheering and encouraging them to run as 
 he went. 
 
 The chase has now lasted about an hour, which, according to Mr. 
 Romford's ideas, ought to be about enough ; but had the fox been 
 light with the start he got, and never having been pressed, he was 
 well qualified to go on for a week. The country, too, was favourable, 
 the fields being large, the hedges easy, and the population small. Rut 
 the hounds didn't get on as they ought under the circumstances, and 
 the fox has more than once stopped to listen if they were coming at all. 
 "Facey sees their defects and pities their infirmities. " Rash it, but ye 
 want heading and tailing," says he, "and then I don't know that I'd 
 give much for the middle." Some of them, he thought, would run if 
 the others would only let them ; but they were a devilish tiresome set. 
 11 G-a-r away, ye loiterin' lumberin' beggars ! " exclaimed he, cracking 
 his cart whip to set them forward. And away they went at a some- 
 what amended pace. 
 
 Now if Mr. Romford missed his fox it is quite clear he would have 
 been set down as a humbug, at all events as an officious intruder. 
 Mr. Lotherington would have declared he could have killed him if 
 master would only have let him alone, just as a cow leach always says 
 he could have cured a horse if the groom had sent for him instead of the 
 vet. And now with this evident issue before him, the Dragon of 
 Wautley shut up at the time he was most wanted in a very summary 
 and unexpected manner. 
 
 Facey had been so anxious pressing and forcing the hounds, that he 
 did not feel the occasionally turnip-fed Dragon gradually sinking 
 beneath him, until on putting him at a very low fence, he stood stock 
 still, tail erect, nostrils distended, eye staring and fixed. "Rot it ! " 
 exclaimed Romford, jumping off, "that's a bad job!" looking at the 
 horse's heaving sides and wooden frame. It was clear he was beat. 
 
 "Here! " exclaimed he to a countryman, who now came running 
 down the hill in a pair of very impeding clogs. " Take this horse up 
 to yon house," pointing to a whitewashed one on the left, " and see 
 him taken care of till I come." 
 
 As luck would have it, this was a led farm of Mr. Dibble's, and the 
 countryman having scratched his head and given a good stare, 
 exclaimed, " Whoy deare me it surelie be our master's huss." 
 
 "Ah, Mr. Dibble's," replied Romford. 
 
 " Yeas ! " said the man. 
 
 " "Well then take and use him kindly," rejoined Mr. Romford, 
 adding, " there's sixpence for you, and I'll give you another when I 
 
OAKENSHAW WOOD. 45 
 
 come for him if 1 find him all right ; " so saying he resigned the horse 
 to the man and was preparing to follow the hounds on foot. 
 
 "Fox be doon the Quarry Banks," observed the man, pointing to 
 the right. 
 
 " How d'ye know ? " demanded Mr. Romford. 
 
 " Mar dog torned him," replied he, thinking Jowler had done a 
 very clever thing. 
 
 " Tell me where ? " rejoined Mr. Romford. 
 
 " Just by yon bit bush beyond the stone heap." 
 
 Facey then off with his hat and holloaed the now baffled hounds 
 back on the indicated line. It was as the man said. Craftsman hit 
 off the scent with vehement energy, bringing all his comrades to the 
 cry, and away they went round the end of Preston Hill and up the 
 rough gorse-grown quarry banks. The pace and the music here 
 slackened. The rougher the banks became the less vehemence there 
 was. Romford soon saw they would require all the encouragement he 
 could give them. The Heavyside hounds were not fond of gorse, it 
 pricked their sides too much. They had plenty of natural covers and 
 preferred drawing them. Besides, going in now after the fatigue of a 
 long and to them very sharp run was rather unreasonable. If anybody 
 would kick the fox out for them they would pursue him in the open, 
 but routing him out for themselves was both hard and sharp. Facey 
 saw this, and though he had very indifferent cords on and no drawers, 
 and much of the gorse was of vigorous growth, in he went as though 
 it were a field of oats 
 
 11 Moo in there ! Moo in /" cheered he, trying to get the reluctant 
 hounds to give cry. Just as he was in the midst of his endeavours up 
 came General Lotherington with the combined forces, and distributed 
 themselves along the brow of the hill. Lotherington laying himseli 
 ten shillings to one that the fox beat the new master. Facey then 
 continued his exertions down below with the eyes of England upon 
 him — Argus himself in fact. The cover was long and straggling, 
 lying against the rather steep slope of the hill, thick here and open 
 there, through which a quick mettlesome pack would soon force a fox, 
 but where a judicious dodger was pretty safe from the Heavysides. 
 
 In vain Romford hooped and holloaed and dashed forward on the 
 line, trying to bring the nearest forces to bear on the scent. When 
 the ground was open they put in a bustling appearance, but soon with- 
 drew when the prickles were troublesome. And the fox knowing his 
 ground and watching his opportunity, at length slipped back upon the 
 foiled ground, thus making the difficulties doubly greet. Still. 
 Romford continued his exertions, and if the gentlemen on the hill wero 
 
46 ME. FACEY ROMFORD'S HOUNDS. 
 
 cold, h 3 was warm. He also coaxed in several of the now assembled 
 foot people, assuring them the pricks were nothing, and they'd catch 
 the fox amongst them directly. He didn't say anything about paying 
 them. Mr. Jonathan Lotherington sat sulkily on the hill contemplating 
 the commotion below. 
 
 " If Mister What's-his-name kills this fox I'll eat him pads and 
 ull," said the huntsman, making the bet twelve to one instead of 
 ien. Then some of the field began to slink off. " All U. P." said one, 
 " Starvation work," said another, "Home sweet home," sang a third. 
 
 And certainly appearances were now greatly against Mr. Ilomford, 
 for the fox had got into strong quarters, while the number of ejectors 
 became fewer and fewer. There were not above two couple of hounds 
 in earnest. Still Romford persevered on, now scrambling, now diving, 
 now swimming as it were through the sea of almost impervious gorse to 
 where the light whimper told him the fugitive was ensconced. He 
 spared neither his arms nor his legs, nor his lungs. At length even 
 the light whimper failed, and Facey was left alone in his labours. 
 " Cow-found the beggar ! " muttered he, as he stood scratching his head 
 in the high gorse. 
 
 " Told you so /" said Mr. Lotherington, triumphantly, adding with 
 a smile and a knowing shake of his head, " taks a huntsman to kill a 
 fox, taks a huntsman to kill a fox." And Jonathan began fumbling 
 at his horn as if to blow the hounds out of cover. 
 
 Yap, yeau, scrunch ! the gorse shakes violently about ten yards from 
 Romford, and taking a header he disappears in the thick of it. 
 
 Up he comes with a great ruddy dog-fox in his hand, whooping and 
 holloaing as hard as he could shout. 
 
 " Hoo-ray ! " cheered the horsemen on the hill. 
 
 " Hoo-ray ! " cheered the foot people below. 
 
 " Hoo-ray ! " responded Romford, holding him up. 
 
 Away Facey went dragging his prize along amid the baying of the 
 lazy hounds, who now seemed inclined to eat him without onions. 
 Making up to Lotherington he says, "There, old man ! there's your fox," 
 giving it to him, and while the last obsequies of the chase are performed, 
 jtir friend receives the compliments and congratulations of the field. 
 " Never saw anything better! wonderful performance! deserves to be 
 immortalised ! " 
 
 So ended Mr. Romford's first day with the Hcavysid cs. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 TILE TENDER PARTING. 
 
 The reader will observe that we have not "Brown, Jones, and 
 Robinson" in the field, Mr. Brown, Mr. Romford; Mr. Jones, Mr. 
 Romford; Mr. Robinson, Mr. Romford ; and for this reason, that, with 
 the exception of an earnest and not uncommon desire to take care of 
 their necks, there was nothing very particular about the 11. II. gentle- 
 men ; and the fact was Mr. Facey did not stay very long with 
 them. Of course, after the run described in the last chapter, he rose 
 rapidly in public estimation, and his fame kept increasing every time 
 he went out — increasing with everyone save Mr. Lotherington, who 
 liked Facey less every time he saw him. At length, having ridden 
 another borrowed horse to a stand still, Facey most unhandsomely 
 dismounted Lotherington, under pretence of assisting at a mutual 
 " lead over," when, getting on to Lotherington' s horse, Facey galloped 
 away, leaving the huntsman in the lurch. This indignity Lotherington 
 could not brook ; and having feathered his nest pretty well, the 
 expenditure of the hunt having been a good deal under his control, 
 he anticipated Romford's dismissal by giving him up, which he did 
 rather cavalierly — so much so, indeed, that Facey, who was by no 
 means fastidious, told him he was uncommon welcome to go, addiny 
 that he need not apply to him for a character. Whereupon, Lother- 
 ington, embodying all the slights and contumely he had received at 
 Facey's hands — the old man'd, old woman'd, slandered as no fox- 
 killer, robbed of his horse — embodying all these, we say, in one bitter 
 pill, Lotherington replied — 
 
 " I'm sure, sir, if you never mention I've lived with you, I never 
 shall, for I'm most heartily 'shamed of it." 
 
 Facey, however, cared little for that sort of thing ; indeed, it was 
 rather in his favour, for it put him in possession of Lotherington's 
 horses, which belonged to the hunt, thereby saving him the trouble of 
 begging and borrowing others. And Minshull Vernon being rather 
 wide of the kennel, he presently removed to more convenient quarters 
 at the snug little hostelry known by the sign of the " Dog and Par- 
 tridge" inn, by the side of the Marlingford and Rockland road. 
 
48 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 It was a quiet little solitary, stone-slated, six-roomed house, and 
 Btanding in a clump of venerable elms ; and Facey got a comfortable 
 carpeted parlour, with, the usual complement of stuffed birds, samplers, 
 and sand-boxes, with a bed-room above, for ten shillings a- week, fire 
 and cooking included. And here he did very well, getting his hunting 
 and shooting for nothing, without the persecution of visitors ; for though 
 the H. H.'s were a most respectable twenty shillings in the pound set 
 of men, they did little or nothing in the way of extraneous gaiety. 
 No balls, no breakfasts, no dinners, no nothing, and it is much to be 
 questioned if they had not the endowment whether they would have 
 had any hunt either. This, then, seemed just the very thing to suit a 
 rough and ready customer like friend Facey, and why it did not must 
 be reserved until we have introduced one or two more of our dramatis 
 persona to the reader. "We may, however, state that Facey did 
 uncommonly well in the country. He was most assiduous in showing 
 sport, no day being too long or distance too great for him ; and he 
 rode in a way that astonished the natives, saving his horse where 
 saving was right, but never saving him to the detriment of sport. 
 They had never seen such a pounder before. He never turned away 
 from anything, and if he couldn't leap he would lead over, his only 
 anxiety being to get to his hounds. Even these he improved consider- 
 ably, getting them to come quicker to holloas, and not lie on the scent, 
 as old Lotherington had let them. So Facey really seemed to have 
 benefited by the loss of his "oncle's" fortune. If he had got it, in 
 all probability he would have been nothing but a mere farmer, whereas 
 now he was a master of hounds, courted and consulted, with people 
 touching their hats to him, and paying him for enjoying himself in 
 hunting the country. Nothing could be better. He only wished the 
 woman in black could see him, and tho?e terrible little imps of hers that 
 he still saw dancing in his mind. And Jog, poor old Jog ! what an ass 
 the old stick-cutter was. He wondered what Jog would think of him, 
 and what he would take for his chance of getting his (Jog's) fifty 
 pounds back again. Soapy Sponge had hit Jog hard — he (Facey) had 
 eclipsed Sponge altogether. 
 
 The H. H. being an early country, and the season whose doings we 
 are recording an unusually dry one, Facey did not care to prolong it 
 to the prejudice of the vixens, especially as there were no itinerant 
 sportsmen who must either hunt or sleep, all the H. H.'s having some- 
 thing to do either in the way of farming, or draining, or driving, cr 
 doctoring, or what not. 
 
 So Facey having killed his ten brace of foxes, making, with Lother- 
 ington's five foxes, twelve brace and a half, shut up by giving tv© 
 
THE TENDER PARTING. 49 
 
 grand entertainments to the keepers and earth-stoppers, at the "Dog 
 and Partridge " inn, at -which he himself presided, thereby making the 
 acquaintance of a very important class of men, with a good deal oi 
 summer amusement in their power ; and though Facey was a tig 
 hen-speckled fellow, none of them could ever sec him doing what he 
 ought not to do, either in the way of fishing, shooting, netting, or 
 what not. So he seemed landed in clover, and being a wise man, set 
 about improving his position. 
 
 And Facey having a good idea of what a pack of hounds should bo 
 — say, three -and -twenty inches high, with bone and substance, pressers, 
 but not hurryers, with plenty of music — bethought him of improving 
 the II. H.'s by heading and tailing the pack, and introducing a liberal 
 infusion of fresh blood among them. To this end he wrote to the 
 huntsmen of several of the best packs in the kingdom, the Belvoir, the 
 Beaufort, the Dramham, and others, engaging their draughts, young 
 and old, particularly mentioning in each letter that they were not to be 
 6cnt to Abbej-field Park, but to some quiet, out-of-the-way railway 
 6tation therein specified, where they would be met by people who knew 
 nothing about Facey, and again transferred to others who did ; and the 
 letters being written on good paper — best cream-laid — and sealbd with 
 the right Romford crest — a Turbot sitting upon its tail on a cap of 
 Dignity — the huntsmen had no hesitation in complying with the orders, 
 feeling, perhaps, rather nattered than otherwise at their draught going 
 into such good hands. The seal, we may mention, was a bread one, made 
 by Facey from an impression on a letter, or rather on an envelope from 
 the other Mr. Poroford, enclosing a dunning shoemaker's bill to friend 
 Facey, that somehow or other, after boxing the compass, had found 
 its way to Abbeyfield Park, in the extraordinary way that lost hounds 
 and letters do cast up. And a most useful adjunct this bread seal was ; 
 for, independently of other advantages, Facey got a most valuable lot 
 of hounds together by it, and, though perhaps rather anticipating our 
 story, we may add that he never paid for them, our independent 
 master either treating the letters with silent contempt, or writing such 
 abusive answers to the applications for the money, denouncing the hounds 
 as a skirting, babbling, over-running, sheep-worrying lot, not worth 
 hanging, as perfectly astonished the worthy huntsmen, who, thinking 
 they must be deceived in their judgment, or that the hounds had been 
 changed on the journey, felt rather sorry than otherwise at having 
 disappointed so good a sportsman as the Turbot on its tail, Mr. Pomford. 
 
 And Facey, being a thorough dog man, liked his bargains — or 
 rather presents — amazingly, and very different were the reflections 
 that passed in his mind as he stood weeding his cane-colouird beard oa 
 
 B 
 
50 mr. facey romford's hounds. 
 
 the flags whilst inspecting his pack, and the denunciations he had 
 hurled at the huntsmen when they ventured to ask for their money. 
 
 And having invested our hero with the material of a good pack 
 of hounds, let us now turn to the requirements of the necessary 
 adjuncts of horses. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 MR. GOODHEAHTED GRLEX. 
 
 Among other equestrian acquaintances made hy our friend Mr. 
 Homford while in London, was that of the extensive philanthropist 
 Mr. Francis Green, or Goodhearted Green, as he is commonly called, 
 Brown Street, Bagnigge "Wells Boad. Goodheart is a sort of horse- 
 dealing bat, veering between the plaited straw, yellow sand magnifi- 
 cence of Piccadilly and Oxford Street, and the queerly smeUing back 
 slum quarters of the check-stealing fly-by-night chaunters and copers. 
 Though Goodheart spurned the latter, he was on friendly terms with 
 many of the former, easing them of many objectionable horses that 
 mistaken judgment or ill-placed confidence had put them in possession 
 of, rearers, restives, runaways, wicked, vicious, unmanageable animals 
 generally. 
 
 We don't mean to say that Goodheart dealt in nothing but incurables, 
 for he had a happy knack of blending the useless with the dangerous, 
 and was always ready to exchange a low-priced slave for a high-priced 
 savage, or vice versa. And there was such a fine, frank, open-hearted, 
 taking manner about him, — coupled with his snow-white hair, his 
 roseate hue, sporting attire, Bedford-cords, and top-boots, with a green 
 cut-away, that, unlike the generality of dealers in cheap and damaged 
 articles, he has been known to do the same flat a second time. Then he 
 was so feeling and affectionate — quite the philanthropist in every thing. 
 "Really, sir, really," he would exclaim, after listening to a victim's list 
 of enormities perpetrated by some notorious offender. " You don't say 
 go — you don't say so. Well, I ham distressed. I did think, if there 
 was an oss I could 'scientiously 'commend a comely-looking gentleman 
 of some fifty years of age, residing and carrying on busiuess at jNo. 13, 
 Urown Street, it was that 'ere bay Sultan 'oss. But you are quite right, 
 sir — quite right," Goodheart would continue. "Don't keep him an 
 hour longer than you like him, sir — send him back by all means — 01 
 
ME. GOODHEAETED GEEEH. 5.1 
 
 ehall ] scud for him ?" stepping out as if about to appeal to the ostlers' 
 bell outside the little office -door, but in reality inveigling the customer 
 into a stable of soft ones, out of which he was welcome to choose 
 himself what Goodheart called a " cheery one." And if the too fas- 
 tidious customer did not like that, Goodheart would let him have 
 another of the same sort, always, of course, subject to the usual 
 penalty of a few five pound notes. But a man's hobby never costs 
 him anything, and Goodheart gained as much credit by the one transac- 
 tion as he lost by the other. 
 
 Loudon being now accessible to everybody — accessible either by the 
 flying Express, the moderate twopence-a-mile, or the still more reason- 
 able Parliamentary trains, according as time or money is most 
 valuable to the traveller, people get sucked up to the capital almost 
 incontinently, and talk of going to town just as their forefathers 
 talked of going to sessions or assizes. And there being little fatigue 
 consequent on the journey, there is no occasion for the prolonged stay 
 for recruiting that used to be considered necessary ere the intrepid 
 eoyageur again committed his precious person to the care of all the 
 jibbers, and kickers, and vicious horses in the country. People talk 
 of the dangers of railways, but all horse owners know that there was 
 no little danger attendant on the coaches. If a man had a vicious 
 animal he always sold it to a coach proprietor. 
 
 And Romford, ever anxious to be doing, and being now a great 
 man — a master of fox-hounds — sought the capital, like his equals, and 
 renewed his acquaintance with the large swelling bosom of Good- 
 hearted Green. Goodheart was well in stock with troublesome 
 auimals, having what Mr. Rarey would call some very incorrigible 
 offenders, constantly passing and repassing through his hands. Never 
 a week elapsed without his either receiving a most fuming letter from 
 some provincial dupe, or some resident cockney walking Lincoln and 
 Bennett in hand up his yard, to show the destruction done to his 
 head-gear. 
 
 Then Goodheart, inflating his canary-coloured vest, with grief 
 would sigh and exclaim, " Oh dear, dear, dear, was there ever sich 
 doings, was there ever sich doings! Here Michael! Robert! 
 William!" hallooing to his men, "did any of you ever see any 
 symptoms of vice or depravity about that 'ere cockolorum 'oss ?" Then 
 they all exclaimed, as with one voice, "Oh, never, sir! never! 
 quietest 'oss that ever was seen," and then retired to their respective 
 dens to watch the further proceedings. 
 
 "When Mr. Romford came, which was towards the close of the 
 London season, Goodheart had some seven or eight horses that a timid 
 
 k 2 
 
52 ME. FACET EOMFOED'S HOUNDS. 
 
 rider could make nothing whatever of, horses that, if the purchaser 
 wanted to go to Barking, would perhaps insist upon carrying him to 
 Urompton, or may be to Hoddesdon, instead of Hyde Park. Thero 
 were others with less objectionable properties, but still troubled with, 
 qualities that made them unmarketable to general purchasers. 
 
 Now Goodheart, who could read a man pretty quickly, recognised 
 in Romford the materials of a determined rider, and opened his 
 expanding breast accordingly, telling him the peculiarities of each, and - 
 recommending such as he knew were full of courage and endurance. 
 
 First on the list was that noble weight-carrying hunter, bought as 
 "The Cur," but re-christened by Goodheart " Honest Robin." The 
 C ur — we beg pardon—Honest Robin was a .bright, sixteen hands 
 chestnut, with light lively action, a capital fencer, and fast,, but 
 unfortunately having been ridden to a stand-still in his youth, and 
 not relishing the performance now shut up, whenever he thought he'd 
 had enough. In the middle of a run, when the rider thought he 
 was going gallantly, expecting to cut everybody down, the Cur would 
 suddenly collapse, and refuse to proceed a step further, leaving the- 
 laughing field to pass him like a mile -stone. jNo, neither bullying nor 
 coaxing had any effect on the Cur. He would kick, and strike, and 
 plunge, and wheel round and round, but as to going any further, 
 that he resolutely declined — it was quite out of the question. "A. 
 fair day's work for a fair day's food" was the horse's motto; and of 
 course the animal himself was the best judge of what was fair. And 
 this sort of performance not being at all relished in the hunting-field, 
 he passed quickly from country to country, becoming more hardened 
 in his profligate habits at each change — until he introduced the practice 
 of the hunting-field into his ordinary road performances. He wouldn't 
 go any further than he liked on a journey, and if his rider insisted 
 on pushing him forward, he would either run away or kick him ovei 
 his head, and return home without him. And a horse that will 
 neither ride nor drive not being of much use to anybody, he at length 
 came into Goodhearted Green's hands, who, knowing how the world 
 is governed by appearances, thought to turn him to account. 
 
 The Cur not being at all an endearing or marketable name, Good- 
 heart quickly changed it to its opposite, Honest Robin, a confidence- 
 inspiring one, which, coupled with his appearance (barring a certain 
 sulk of the eye), was well calculated to produce a favourable 
 impression. Then, to see Goodheart appraising him to a purchaser, 
 > baking his head, and drawing in his breath, as though he were taking 
 a prolonged suck at a stick of barley sugar, was a fine piece of acting. 
 
 Green had sold him for three hundred guineas, and thirty back ; lor 
 
MR. GOODHEAETED GREEN'. 53 
 
 two hundred, and twenty back ; for one hundred, with nothing back ; 
 and now put him into Romford at thirty pounds, or half of whatever 
 he made beyond that. Of course Faccy didn't put anything down, 
 " honour among thieves" being the motto. 
 
 The next of Goodhearted Green's horses that it will be necessary to 
 introduce to the reader, was a black horse called Brilliant, some sixteen 
 hands and a half high, and nearly a perfect model of a weight-carrying 
 hunter. At first sight, he appeared to be two inches lower than he really 
 was, his great frame having been well developed by good meat when 
 he was young. He stood slightly over before, rather an advantage to 
 Goodheart than otherwise, for suspicious purchasers invariably took 
 exception to his legs, and required to be specially guaranteed against 
 their going; a request that Goodheart readily complied with, for he knew 
 that the horse had been foaled so, and subscribed to the doctrine that 
 the legs of horses so foaled never failed. 
 
 Still Brilliant — and be it observed, he had never passed under any 
 other name — had his peculiarities, being, as Goodheart amiably 
 observed, a "playful rogue," that is to say, a most inveterate savage 
 in the stable. He would kick, and bite, and fly at even the man 
 with his food, in a way that was perfectly alarming, and Goodheart 
 had always to pay a helper two or three shillings a week more for 
 looking after Brilliant than the regular tariff of the yard. Still, 
 when at the door and in the hunting-field, Brilliant was quite quiet 
 and tractable; but then the difficulty was to get him to the door, it 
 being obvious to everybody that a horse is of no use to any one 
 unless he can be got there. And many a time Green's too sensitive 
 bosom had been wrung with recitals of the horse's malpractices ere 
 Mr. Romford's manly form relieved him of him. Brilliant had 
 nearly eat so many men, that Goodheart feared a " crowner's 'quest " 
 from him, and didn't know but he himself might be involved in the 
 consequences. So he put him in very low, twenty pounds, or half of 
 whatever Romford might get beyond that for him. 
 
 The third was Leotard, the wondrous Leotard ! a beautiful cream- 
 coloured lady's pad, with an Arab-like head, and silver mane and tail 
 — a picture to look at, but a profligate in practice. Leotard had no 
 notion of doing anything he didn't like, and as remonstrance wag 
 vain, and pretty sure to end in a backward over rear, it was Goodheart' s 
 humour to show him in a plain snaffle bridle, as if he could bo turned 
 with a thread. And there were times when Leotard would do exactly 
 what he was wanted ; at other times he seemed to be possessed of a 
 devil, and would do nothing but either run away or rear. Still, he 
 had the redeeming quality of generally showing off to advantage 
 
54 ME. FACET ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 before strangers, especially to purchasers, and had brought Goodheart 
 in considerable gains. But his peculiar colour was against him — as 
 was his character. He came back too often, and people began to quiz 
 Goodheart about the cream-colour's notorious performances, so that 
 altogether he wasn't sorry when Eomford decided upon making 
 Leotard the third in his horse-box. And having said that he wasn't 
 "altogether to be depended upon," he left Facey to find out what 
 were his deficiencies. Leotard was put in low, ten pounds, or half 
 profit as before. So the new friends parted, mutually pleased with 
 each other, Goodheart thinking he had done Eomford, and Eomford 
 thinking he had done Goodheart. 
 
 And now, humbly following in the footsteps of the immortal author 
 of the " House that Jack built," and having got some hounds to 
 follow the fox that stole the goose that Facey meant for his dinner, 
 and also some horses to live with the hounds that followed the fox 
 that stole the goose that Facey meant for his dinner, let us see about 
 getting some men to ride the horses and live with the hounds that 
 followed the fox that stole the goose that Facey meant for his dinner. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 SWIG AND CIIOWEY. 
 
 "What dilapidated specimens of horsey humanity one sees down 
 Tattersall's yard on a full Monday in the height of the Londou season. 
 Men in every stage of sporting decay, from the covered button roseate 
 groom of yesterday's dismissal, down to the threadbai-e, callless 
 scarecrow of irreconcileable garments, who does not look as if he had 
 had a meal for a month. "Were there ever such queerly-cut clothes, so 
 oddly put on; such shaggy heads, such baggy shorts, such faded, 
 careless ties, such uncouth vests, such extraordinary coats, so rich in 
 little oddly-placed pockets, made for holding the mythical never - 
 ccming coin ! What sticks, what legs, what sticks of legs ! Two to 
 one but every other man wants a back button to his coat. And yet 
 these incongruous garments often cover those who have been clad, 
 if not in purple and fine linen, at all events in pink — men who have 
 been hailed by my Lord and noticed by Sir Harry, as they jogged on 
 to cover with their hounds ; or may be they contain men who, in the 
 soberer costume of stud grooms, and the full arrogance of office, have 
 
SWIG AXD CHOWEY. 55 
 
 even refused their masters admission to their own stables, now perhaps 
 only too happy to lead a newly -purchased horse at the hammer all the 
 way to Hackney or Hoxton for a shilling. 
 
 If the talented author of Dick Christian's lectures could inveigle 
 a few of these men down into the Turf tap, and opening their hearts 
 with a little of Mr. Maish's best brandy, he might gain matter for 
 instruction on servitude that would be extremely useful both to master 
 and man — to the masters in teaching them not to give way to the men, 
 to the men as teaching them not to presume with their masters. "We 
 incline, however, to think the demon drink would be found to have 
 been at the bottom of most of their misfortunes. Not that the men 
 themselves would admit the fact, but would say they had been most 
 unhandsomely used, or made the victims of base conspiracy or un- 
 founded suspicions. Drink ! oh no, they never mention drink. 
 
 It was at Messrs. TattersalTs repository of bad legs and brandy 
 noses that Mr. Romford sought to supply the vacancies caused by Mr. 
 Lotherington's retirement, and the subsequent secession of his coad- 
 jutor Mr. Michael. Romford wanted two whippers-in to aid in break- 
 ing and entering the hounds so surreptitiously obtained, and our master 
 giving his own personal superintendence to every department of the 
 kennel, he did not care more about character than a groom generally 
 does when he engages a helper. Knowledge of their business, with 
 lightness of weight, were Facey' s principal requirements ; and as most 
 men out of place are light, and summer is the season for choice, he 
 soon had plenty of applicants — some with whole bones, some with 
 broken ; some with teeth, some without, some with a few scattered 
 here and there. They were all most willing to work ; no asking who 
 did this or that, or inquiring how many suits of clothes Mr. Romford 
 allowed in a year. Fancy old Facey giving his servants what he didn't 
 allow himself. He had so many remnants of humanity to choose 
 from, that he scarcely knew which to select. Now he thought Joe 
 Harford, late of the Blazers, whose face was his character, would 
 do ; then Harry, late of the Beckingham Bruisers, superseded Joe, and 
 was in turn eclipsed by the hard-riding — too hard-riding Rat from the 
 Cheshire. Just as he was closing with the Rat, who, as Facey said, 
 seemed as light as a bladder, up came the residuum of that hard-bitten, 
 hard-drinking creature Daniel Swig. Daniel, clad in three waistcoats, 
 and no coat, the outer waistcoat worn open, like a spencer, a pair of 
 very critical-looking cords, and dirty leather leggings, with sadly 
 patched shoes. Daniel had lived with the great Lord Scamperdale, 
 who had put up with his nonsense so long that he thought his Lord- 
 ship would stand him for ever, and now, finding his mistake, he could 
 
56 ME. FACEY ROMFORD'S HOUNDS. 
 
 never sufficiently atone for his faults by airing his Lordship's name on 
 ^11 drunken occasions. He seemed to think it a perfect talisman 
 against mischief, and would go hallooing out "Mind! I'm Daniel! 
 I'm the Eight Honourable the Hurl of Scamperdale's Daniel !" as if it 
 would be perfect high treason to meddle with such a man as Daniel. 
 Facey knew Daniel, and also that he knew his business, so he threw 
 the Rat over (who had but one eye), and installed Daniel instead. He 
 coon picked up a match for him in the forlorn figure of little Tom 
 Chowey. 
 
 Who doesn't know little Tom Chowey ? — ChoAvey, the man with 
 the india-rubber-ball-like mouth? — Chowey, the mildest-mannered, 
 civilest-spoken, most drunken little dog in the kingdom ? Chowey 
 has been with half the hunts going, thus forming a large acquaintance, 
 and so enabling him to earn a precarious livelihood when out of place, 
 by touching his hat, and re-introducing himself to itinerant sportsmen, 
 or gentlemen down Tattersall's yard. "Remembers your Lordship 
 when I lived with the Crammers," with a saw of the air with his arm. 
 41 Caught your 'os3, Sir Harry, when you got that -juice of a fall with 
 the Varickshire " ("juice " being the nearest approach to an oath that 
 Chowey ever indulges in). "Was out, Mr. Crasher, when you swam 
 the Lime on Lehander," and so on. A horsey scamp will generally get 
 a shilling out of a sportsman, while a combey or a staylacey one would 
 plead in vain. The most remarkable part of Chowey, however, was 
 his mouth. This, as we said before, was like an india-rubber ball, 
 and once seen could never be forgotten. In repose it was like the 
 neck of the ball tied; when, however, the owner was excited — say, 
 by the sight of a fox — it gaped again, just like one of the Dutch toys 
 into whose mouth children try to chuck balls. When he screwed it 
 up, it looked like the incipient trunk of an elephant. The whole of 
 the lower part of his face seemed to converge to that feature. It waa 
 a most remarkable one. 
 
 Swig, with his three waistcoats on, was a few pounds heavier than 
 Chowey, the two together weighing less than friend Facey. They 
 were as lean as laths, just like so many feet of galvanized gristle. 
 Doth had piercing grey eyes that roved in all directions, like Daniel 
 Forester's on dividend days. Their ages might be anything — anything 
 between thirty and sixty. Swig's wardrobe went into a little valise 
 that swung in the air as light as a pen- case, while Chowey carried 
 his in the crown of an extinguishing bell-shaped hat. These two 
 geniuses, Romford, after due deliberation and much cautioning, at 
 length engaged, and having paid their third-class fares by the Parlia- 
 mentary train, and giving them each a penny roll and sixpence a-piece, 
 
CUB HUNTING. 57 
 
 sent them off to Minshull Vernon, thinking they could not do much 
 harm till he came. And like a majestic master as he now began to be, 
 he followed next day with his newly-acquired horses. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 . CUB HTJXTIXG. 
 
 Havhtg already intimated that Mr. Eomford did not stay very long 
 with the Heavyside Hunt, and not haying Brown, Jones, and Robin- 
 son in the field, the reader will not expect us to dilate much on the 
 peculiarities of the country, or to tell who gave Mr. Eomford 
 
 " white bread, 
 Who gave him brown ; 
 Who gave him plum cake 
 And sent him out of town ; " 
 
 but would doubtless rather that we trotted on with our story to the 
 more permanent scene of his great sporting career. 
 
 To this end, therefore, we shall be very brief, merely observing that 
 he got through his summer very comfortably, fishing where he liked, 
 shooting where he liked, and, generally speaking, doing pretty much 
 what he liked. The harvest was early, the corn was cut and carried 
 in good order, and he satisfied himself that the litters of foxes were 
 both numerous and strong. He had heard nothing of Jog or his 
 check ; nothing of Mr. Holmside, the treasurer of the Stir-it-Stiff Poor 
 Law Union; nothing of Mr. Nathan Levy and his rent; and nothing 
 of Mr. Soapey Sponge, either about his shop or his wife. Altogether, 
 Mr. Eomford felt like a new man — like the Turbot on its tail himself. 
 If he ever thought of Oncle Gilroy, it was only to bless the day on 
 which he stared into "Wilkinson and Kidd's shop window, and was 
 instigated to become a master of fox-hounds. Thanks to the 
 generosity of his brother masters, or the gullibility of their hunts- 
 men, he had now a most promising entry of hounds. If they 
 were only as good as they looked, thought he, they would indeed be 
 hard to beat. And he would stand by the hour in the kennel, criti- 
 cising their shape and their make, incontinently culling samples of his 
 beard, until he was actually sore with the operation. And as the 
 glad day approached for trying the pack, he was more and more in 
 the kennel, until he seemed absolutely to begrudge himself hia 
 
5S MS. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 necessary rest and relaxation. At length, came the time for trying 
 their prowess, as also that of his horses and men. 
 
 Most masters would have felt rather nervous in taking the field with 
 two such coadjutors as Chowey and Swig, but Mr. Romford knew no 
 fear, for he looked carefully after them himself, and there being no 
 public-house within three miles of the kennel, save the " Dog and 
 Partridge " inn, where he himself lived, and whose every nook and 
 cranny he could command from his sitting-room, they dare not come 
 there, while he hardly gave them time to get elsewhere. Moreover, 
 they had no money, and were not likely-looking customers for people 
 to trust. So they had to "behave themselves" whether they were 
 inclined to do so or not. 
 
 "What with the H. H. and his own, Facey had nearly a hundred 
 couple of hounds in kennel, and meal being costly, it was his interest 
 to reduce their numbers as quickly as possible. So he would be at it 
 by daybreak, making the welkin ring with their melody, long before 
 Hodge and his ploughmen awoke from their slumbers. Often, as our 
 sportsmen have been returning home, all dust and perspiration, after 
 handling a cub or two, they have been asked when they were " gannin 
 to cast off?" And Swig and Chowey, seeing they had a master mind 
 in our friend, readily seconded his efforts, and played into his hands 
 with skill and enthusiasm. The presentation hounds were indeed 
 capital, and Facey, having satisfied himself that he couldn't do wrong 
 whichever he kept v again had recourse to the good bread-seal, offer- 
 ing most superior drafts to outlying distant masters, at what he 
 called the very moderate price of five guineas a couple ; and some of 
 them knowing the Turbot on its tail personally, others by character, 
 they readily accepted the offer, and Facey got a great number of five- 
 pound notes in a very easy, agreeable maimer. " Nothin' like bein' a 
 master of hounds," said he, as they came rolling in post after post. 
 And he revolved in his mind what other packs he could draw further 
 supplies from. It was clear that either his own credit or that of the 
 other Mr. Romford was extremely good, and he saw no reason why he 
 should not profit by it. It was lucky that he had dropped the name of 
 Gilroy, thought he. 
 
 At length, the Romford orchestra being properly tuned, and all 
 things ready for an opening, Swig and Chowey clad in good second- 
 hand clothes, bought off the pegs, the fox-hunting curtain arose early 
 in November, to the old familiar H. H. audience. 
 
 Facey had matched his hounds admirably ; they could both hunt and 
 run, and the foxes having been well disturbed, flew as they had never 
 done before. The new horses, too, were admired ; and, altogether, the 
 
MRS. ROWLEY ROUNDING. 59 
 
 Komford star seemed in the ascendant. Still, there was nothing flash 
 or showy in the establishment — indeed, our master had not even 
 treated himself to a new coat, the Romford theory being that a hunting- 
 coat, like a shooting-jacket, should be worn as long as it would hang 
 together. But the plum-coloured coats brought many a fox to hand, 
 one a day being the rule, instead of one a week, as it was in old 
 Lotherington's time. 
 
 "We now come to what broke up all this apparent prosperity ; and, 
 as there is a lady, or rather two ladies, involved in the case, we will 
 begin a fresh chanter. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 MES. COWLEY EOT7XDIXG. 
 
 "We do not know that we have ever mentioned it before, but if we 
 have, we venture the observation again, — that among other great advan- 
 tages afforded by railways, has been that of opening out the great 
 matrimonial market, whereby people can pick and choose wives all the 
 world over, instead of having to pursue the old Pelion on Ossa or Pig 
 upon Bacon system of always marrying a neighbour's child. So we 
 now have an amalgamation of countries and counties, and a consequent 
 improvement in society — improvement in wit, improvement in wine, 
 improvement in " wittles," improvement in everything. Among the 
 members of the Heavyside Hunt who profited by this state of things 
 during the summer of Mr. Romford's noviciate, was the rich Mr. 
 Rowley Rounding, of Grandaeres Hall, a good turnip-headed, turnip- 
 growing Squire, whose faculties generally served him about twenty 
 or five and-twenty minutes after they were wanted. Being on a 
 gaping excursion all along the Southern coast, he was perfectly gal- 
 vanised with the beauty of the fair-haired, blue-eyed, brisk young Avidow, 
 Madame de Normanville (n6e Brown), of Boulogne-sur-Mer, who came 
 upon him at Ramsgate, in such a succession of bonnets, as almost to 
 deprive him of reason, and at first prevented his laying that and that 
 together, and deciding that if he coiildn't be Monsieur do jSTormanville, 
 she, at all events, might be Mrs. Rowley Rounding. 
 
 For first of all, being a Madame, he had to ascertain and digest the 
 fact that she might be and indeed was single ; then it opportunely 
 occurred to him that he was single too, after which he came to thfl 
 
60 MB. FACEY EOUFOIID's HOUNDS. 
 
 conclusion that there was no reason why — though he wasn't in 
 search of a wife — he shouldn't try to catch the widow and carry her 
 down into the H. H. country. To be sure, Boh Ricketts, Billy Meadows, 
 and Charley "Westrope might laugh and deride him, but they had not 
 his means, and, moreover, had never been tempted by — such 
 extraordinary beauty and bonnets, as hers. If she wasn't an angel, 
 she was as near hand one as could be — but he thought she was one 
 entire. He only wished he could make up to her. But what the " 
 "juice," as Chowey would say, is a country gentleman with no 
 acquaintance but the landlord of his hotel to introduce, to do under 
 such circumstances ? 
 
 The lady, however, soon solved that mystery. Madame de Nbrman- 
 ville seeing she had Basilisk' d the booby, presently afforded him an 
 opportunity of making her acquaintance by dropping her finely-laced 
 and ciphered kerchief as she floated befoi'e him on the pier, when she 
 gave him such a pearly-teeth-showing smile of gratitude on restoring 
 it as immediately finished the business. 
 
 Next day she had him as handy as a French poodle, and looking 
 about as sensible as one. And widows being generally pretty good 
 men of business, short, sharp, and decisive, she brought him up to the 
 "what have you got, and what will you do?" gate, without giving 
 him a chance of leading her over it. Indeed, her beauty ought to 
 have exempted her from any such operation as that, for though 
 inclining to embonpoint, she had a beautiful figure and complexion, 
 set off by the best of modistes and milliners, as Rowley found when 
 the rather long-standing bills came pouring in — some dating even as 
 far back as the time when she was Miss Brown — or Brown Stout, aa 
 the impertinent young fellows of that day called her. 
 
 To make a long story short, however, which was more than Rowley 
 could do by the bills, he married her off hand, and then, of course, 
 according to the old needles and pins song — 
 
 "his sorrows began." 
 
 Of course lie took her down into the country, and here we may 
 observe that we cannot imagine a greater change than from the light 
 elastic gaiety of southern watering-places to the sober realities of dull 
 out-of-the-way country quarters, where the ladies were all prolific, and 
 their talk was of children or nurses, and cooks, and how many candles 
 each used in the kitchen. 
 
 Mr. Rowley Bounding, though a very good man, and a capital 
 judge of a cow, had very little in common with his sprightly wife, 
 who having no family, required the excitement that children supply. 
 
MRS. ROWLEY ROUNDIXQ. 61 
 
 A nd as it ia not often given to the same man to be a good judge of a 
 horse as well as of a cow, our Squire cared little about the former, 
 and could not enter into the spirit of the equestrian performances of 
 his wife, who was known for her capering qualities to all the small 
 riding-masters along the Southern coast. Indeed, at Brighton they 
 used to charge her rather more than other people in consequence of 
 her weight and galloping propensities. 
 
 Having exhausted her country circle, got all their histories and 
 grievances by heart, domestic economy included, she now took it into 
 her head she would like to resume her riding, alleging that it was no 
 use wasting a good habit; and although Mr. Rowley Rounding pointed 
 out that a habit ate nothing, and did not cost anything keeping, she 
 stood to her point firmly, and insisted that she ought to ride, that she 
 would be much better if she rode, that horse exercise would do her a 
 great deal of good, that Doctor Senna had strongly recommended her 
 to ride, the Doctor having said, in reply to her inquiry if he didn't 
 think she would be better if she rode, that " perhaps she might." 
 
 And she talked and teased so much about a horse, declaring she 
 couldn't do without a horse — that she must have a horse — that she 
 would be perfectly happy if she had a horse, that Mr. Rowley 
 Rounding, greatly appreciating peace and quietness, agreed to buy 
 her a horse, and forthwith she besieged all her friends and acquaint- 
 ance with inquiries if they knew 6f a horse, a lady's horse, a horse 
 with a iiowing mane and tail — a whole coloured horse with racing-like 
 points — that she wouldn't be ashamed to ride in Hyde Park, for she 
 had some notion of getting up to town in the spring if she could. 
 And a person wanting to buy a horse being a novelty in the H. H. 
 country, where they almost all bred their own, and wore them from 
 end to end, it was talked of a good deal, and it seemed to be the 
 general opinion that the wonderful Leotard was the likeliest horse to 
 suit our fair friend. Not that Romford had said anything about selling 
 him, but people thought he didn't seem to be of much use to him, and 
 he might perhaps be tempted to part with him. So our old friend 
 Colonel Chatterbox, who dearly loved a comrrission of that sort, and 
 also, with some ten or a dozen others, fancied himself a great favourite 
 of the lady's, deputed himself to sound our master on the subject; and 
 pretending the horso was for himself, Mr. Romford accommodated 
 Chatterbox with him for a hundred — a cool hundred — Facey observ- 
 ing that it was absolutely giving him away. And though Colonel 
 Chatterbox thought it was plenty of money, yet as he seemed the 
 very thing Mrs. Rowley Rounding wanted, and he knew she wouldn't 
 like to ride a cheap horse, he closed with the offer by giving Mr. 
 
fJ2 ME. FACEY EOMFOED'S HOUNDS. 
 
 Romford a draft on Checksby and Shorter' s bank at Rid well, which 
 of course Facey immediately cashed, and felt very comfortable in 
 consequence. So the wondrous Leotard again changed hands, and of 
 course furnished abundant food for comment and criticism in his new 
 quarters, no two connoisseurs agreeing in their opinion of him. 
 
 At first, Leotard, having been kept on low diet by Romford, and 
 exercised with the hounds, of which he was very fond, behaved pretty 
 well ; but common grooms being so fond of stuffing themselves, that 
 they think they can never sufficiently stuff horses, so crammed him 
 with corn that he soon began to relapse into his former bad ways. 
 After one or two minor ebullitions of temper, Mrs. Rounding and 
 Leotard came to a decided difference of opinion at the cross-roads 
 between Crowfield and Linghurst Hill, Mrs. Rowley Rounding wanting 
 to go to the right, Leotard evincing a decided preference for the left, 
 though there was no earthly reason why he should care for either. 
 And Mrs. Rowley Rounding being little accustomed to be thwarted, 
 and never considering that a pampered, over-fed, under-worked pad 
 differed from the obedient rocking-horse animals she had been ac- 
 customed to do what she liked with at the watering-places, struck 
 him rather smartly on the shoulder with a gold-mounted, amethyst- 
 vopped riding-whip, which Leotard instantly resented by rearing 
 almost perpendicularly, and sliding her down over his tail into a soft 
 newly-scraped mud-heap on the road-side. Then, having deposited 
 her as in a pudding, he struck off home, where he arrived to the terror 
 and consternation of the household, and rushing into his stable, pro- 
 ceeded to eat the remains of a feed of corn that he found in another 
 horse's manger. And Mrs. Rowley Rounding, with her dirty habit, 
 presently arrived in the postman's gig, none the w r orse, but very angry 
 at what had happened. Then there was a council of Avar held, as to 
 what should be done with the horse, one recommending that he should 
 be ridden back to the place and made to go the way he was then 
 wanted to go ; another, that he should be taken into the adjoining 
 fallow and well lathered for his pains ; a third, that he should be well 
 licked in the stable ; a fourth, that he should be beat at the door. 
 And as they were all very angry, and imparted a portion of their ire 
 to the horse by scolding and slapping him whilst he was eating, they 
 did not at all improve the prospects of his obedience, and when the 
 tea-tray-groom Postilion came to mount him to give him a good round 
 in the paddock, the active Leotard very soon sent him, pink jean jacket 
 snd all, flying over his head. Then there was a fresh commotion, fresh 
 anathemas at the horse, fresh recommendations as to what should ba 
 done with him. 
 
MRS. ROWLEY ROUNDING. G3 
 
 And as there is always some great, heavy-fisted horse -breaker in 
 itvery neighbourhood who will undertake to ride anything, Tom 
 Heslop, of the "Bee-hive" beer-shop, the hero of that district, was sent 
 for, who undertook to Rarey-fy the rebellious spirit forthwith. 
 
 Leotard let the dirty Heslop mount very quietly, and obeyed his 
 dictation pretty readily, until an unlucky brewer's dray happened to 
 come along the road, when, catching suddenly at the bit, he sidled up 
 to it and proceeded to rasp Tom's leg against the w r heel, rubbing it 
 backwards and forwards till he made him bellow like a bull. Then 
 the drayman got to the fractious horse's head, and after a desperate 
 conflict succeeded in rescuing the unfortunate man from his intolerable 
 oppression. Heslop then jumped off, and led the refractory horse home. 
 
 Another council of war was presently held, at which the butler, the 
 gardener, and Matilda Mary the lady's-maid severalty contributed 
 their quota of wisdom, when they all agreed that Leotard was vicious, 
 and a most improper 'oss for missus to ride. So Heslop and another 
 man were despatched to Colonel Chatterbox's with Leotard, and a 
 request that he would be good enough to return the horse to Mr. 
 Romford, and get back the money. 
 
 jSTow returning the horse was one thing, and getting back the money 
 was another, for Mr. Romford particularly refused te refund one single 
 farthing ; alleging first, that it was an out-and-out sale, without any 
 warranty or condition whatever ; secondly, that the horse was sold to 
 Colonel Chatterbox, and was quite quiet with anybody who could 
 ride, — a double reflection, seeing that it involved an imputation both on 
 the Colonel and Mrs. Rowley Rounding' s horsemanship. Rut Facey 
 politely added, that the horse might stand in his stable at the usual 
 remuneration of four-and-twenty shillings and sixpence a week, all of 
 which was repeated and commented upon by the gentlemen of the 
 H. H. hunt, to the disparagement of Facey, who was thought to have 
 been rather too sharp in the matter. But the Colonel having stretched 
 a point as well as Facej r , they could not make much of the transaction, 
 and Mr. Rounding was at length glad to take twenty pounds for his 
 bargain, in payment of which our master assigned him Mr. Tom 
 Slowcome's subscription to the hounds, which there was always great 
 difficulty in getting, — Facey alleging, as he gave the order on Slcwcome 
 for the money, that he never gave checks for such " trifles as twenty 
 pounds." So the wondrous Leotard returned to Mr. Romford's stable, 
 there on diminished fare to undergo fresh discipline. 
 
 Still, Mrs. Rounding being pretty and popular, and her husband 
 giving good dinners, the spleen of the country was not satisfied, though 
 it had not to wait long for an opportunity to break out in another 
 
64) ME. FACEY EOMFOED's HOUNDS. 
 
 quarter. Though Mr. Romford rode Leotard to cover himself, to show 
 he was quite tractable, they insisted that Mrs. Hounding had been 
 cheated. 
 
 It was quite a different thing, they said, being quiet with a great 
 Herculean monster like our master, and with a timid delicate woman 
 like Mrs. Rounding. 
 
 " It was a monstrous shame to sell a lady a horse that was vicious," 
 said one in Facey's hearing. 
 
 " And at such a price too !" exclaimed another, a hundred guineas 
 not being an evcry-day price in the country. 
 
 Lotherington went so far as to say, that a man ought to be hung 
 who sold a lady- such a horse. 
 
 All these sayings in due time came to our master's ears, with, of 
 course, a due allowance of exaggeration ; and though our friend was 
 not particularly thin-skinned, he yet feared that the Leotard transac- 
 tion might operate prejudicially, as well on future sales of horses, as 
 on his present position and popularity as a master of hounds. He 
 hadn't got on far amiss as it was, his undoubted keenness and great 
 money-reputation helping him along. 
 
 Facey, of course, didn't mean to contend, even to himself, that 
 Leotard was a perfect lady's pad ; but he well knew that, by judicious 
 management, he could be made sufficiently tractable to last long 
 enough to throw on the new owner the blame of spoiling him by bad 
 riding. And in the course of his cogitations, Lucy's beautiful horse- 
 manship, as seen with the late Sir Henry Scattercash's hounds, 
 occurred to recollection, and he said to himself, " Ah ! that is the 
 woman that could do it, if she liked." Twist him any way, and do 
 whatever she liked with him. Never saw such a hand on a horse as 
 she had. " She was a rider," said Romford to himself, twitching his 
 beard as he said it. " Dash it, but he would like to see her on him," 
 added he, throwing the sample away. 
 
 At length, galled by the reproaches and rebuffs which increased 
 rather than diminished, he thought seriously of having her down to 
 contradict their ungenerous assertions, by showing that Leotard was 
 perfectly tractable with a lady. It was only the dread of expense, 
 and the fear of exciting scandal, that prevented him ; but the expense 
 he, at length, thought might be previously settled, and the conse- 
 quences averted by judicious arrangement. He really thought it 
 feasible. He had still eighty of the hundred guineas to the goocj 
 and wouldn't mind standing a trifle to vindicate his character. 
 
 He should like to sec her cutting down some of the spurters who 
 thought they could ride, and leading the lumberers over the heavy 
 
MRS. ROWLEY ROUNDING. 65 
 
 into grief and humility. " Cutting them down and hanging them up 
 to dry," as they say in the Shires. 
 
 At length he took courage, and wrote to Lucy, directing to the care 
 of her mother in Hart Street, saying that, if she had a mind for a 
 mount with his hounds, he would " stand Sam" for the Parliamentary 
 train, directing her, if she came, to stop at the sign of the " West-end 
 Swell," at Minshull Vernon, whither the horse should be sent on the 
 morning of the meet ; but by no manner of means to think of coming 
 on to the Dog and Partridge Inn. 
 
 Lucy jumped at the offer, for she was well-nigh suffocated with fog 
 and bad air, and felt that a run into the country would do her an 
 infinity of good. Moreover, she had been keeping her hands in by 
 taking part in the monster steeple-chase at the Royal Agricultural 
 Hall at Islington, under the title of Madame Valentine de Morning- 
 ton, to the great admiration of crowded audiences. So her hat and 
 her habit were in very good order. She was presently packed and 
 away. 
 
 And the arrangement was most opportune, for Swig and Chowey, 
 we are sorry to say, had rather relapsed into their former habits, and 
 the Dog and Partridge Inn being closed against them by reason of Mr. 
 Pvomford's residence, they had been compelled to go farther a-field for 
 their liquid fire ; and a hunt servant, a man who rides where he likes 
 in a red coat and cap, being always an object of admiration in the 
 country, they had no difficulty in borrowing farmer Roughstubble's 
 dog-cart to drive to the sign of the "Bald-faced Stag," on the Ash- 
 combe Eoad, where the Old Tom rum was capital, the gin pure, and 
 the drink generally both strong and heady. Here, being Saturday 
 night, they fell in with several gentlemen of their acquaintance — ■ 
 Jack Arrowsmith the farrier, Peter Marston the mole-catcher, Jack 
 Miller, Squire Thompson's keeper, with Jacob the coachman, Geordy 
 Banks the standing sot of the house, and others, all of whom were 
 most desirous of trying the alcoholic test of friendship upon them, 
 which they did so effectually that our sportsmen required a good deal 
 of helping, and hoisting, and holding in their vehicle ere they ven- 
 tured to drive off, being then fully impressed with the conviction that 
 they were the two finest fellows under the sun. 
 
 It being a moonlight night, the road straight, and the horse steady, , 
 they had little difficulty in driving. Swig, who acted as charioteer, 
 giving the horse his head, who kept well on the middle of the road, 
 turning all approachers aside, until within a few miles of home, when 
 they had the misfortune to meet Billy Barber the flying higgler's 
 spring-cart, and Billy, being as drunk as themselves, charged right into 
 
66 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 them, shooting Swig one way, and Chowey another, then driving on 
 with a damaged steed, despite of Swig's vociferations that be was 
 "Daniel, the Right Honourable the Hurl of Scamperdale's Daniel!" 
 Vv'hile little Chowey lay on his back, his india-rubber-ball-like moutb 
 contracting and dilating as he muttered, in bis usual bland w r ay, " By 
 all means, shir, by all means," thinking he was helping a gentleman 
 through a hedge with his horse, and wondering whether be would get 
 half-a-crown or a shilling for his trouble. Both were put, what Chowey 
 elegantly called ''horse des combat," by the collision. So Mrs. Sponge 
 now took their place. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 LTJCT ON LEOTAKD. 
 
 A habit in the hunting-field was quite an unknown article in the 
 Heavyside country, where nearly all the ladies had ample domestic 
 duties to occupy them, and the gentlemen found it was about as much 
 as they could manage to mount themselves, and, moreover, had no 
 particular fancy for being outdone by their wives ; so the first flaunt- 
 ing of Lucy's elegant fan-tailed, blue and black braided habit, as she 
 rode along with Facey and the hounds, created quite a sensation, 
 which was little allayed by seeing it was borne by the refractory 
 Leotard. Not only was it borne by Leotard, but the fair equestrian 
 was absolutely going to act the part of whipper-in to the hounds : 
 Swig and Chowey having got such "juices" of shakes as Chowey 
 said, by their upset, as made them more like mummies than men. But 
 for this untoward accident' Facey might have passed Lucy off for a 
 chance lady who had come down to look at the horse. 
 
 The meet was on Caldeiiaw Common — not a common by courtesy, 
 as many now are, but a real unenclosed common of wildness and waste 
 — rather a favourite fixture, for the roads were most accommodating, 
 the country open, and, without being hilly, was undulating, very 
 favourable for seeing, in fact ; moreover, being mostly drained land, 
 there were no agonising ditches to add to the terror of too formidable 
 fences. So there was generally less " which way, Tomkins ? " — " w r hich 
 way, Jenkins?" when the hounds met there, than w r hen they wero 
 lower down in the vale. 
 
 The early birds of the hunt, those who rode their own horses on, 
 
LUCY ON LEOTARD. 67 
 
 Friar, Frisian, Coglin, and others, were now surprised by the un- 
 wonted appearance of a habit. 
 
 " What's up now ? " exclaimed Friar. 
 
 " "Woman, as I live ! " rejoined Frisian. 
 
 " Why, it's Mrs. Rowley Hounding," muttered Coglin, staring 
 intently. 
 
 " Not a bit of it," replied the first speaker, who knew her figure 
 better. 
 
 " It's her horse, however," observed Friskin, eyeing the cream- 
 colour as he ambled along. 
 
 " Was," rejoined Coglin, who knew all about the sale and return. 
 
 And now, as the widely-spreading pack came straggling along the 
 green lane leading on to the common, there was a general move that 
 way to see who it was. 
 
 "I'll tell you what, I shouldn't be 'sprised," said Coglin, seizing 
 Friar by the left arm, and whispering in his ear as they rode along 
 together, "I'll tell you what, confidentially, I shouldn't be 'sprised if 
 it's that Mrs. "What's-her-name from the 'West-end Swell.' " 
 
 "Not Mrs. Spicer?" 
 
 " Oh no, that's the landlady. This is the mysterious lady who has 
 just come down. My groom heard of her yesterday." 
 
 "Indeed!" exclaimed Friar, now staring intently, wondering what 
 Mrs. Friar would say when she heard of it. 
 
 Facey, who gave his hounds plenty of liberty on the road, now 
 rather contracted their freedom by a gentle rate to Favourite, who 
 had got somewhat too far in advance, and the head receding, while the 
 tail advanced, the pack came up in a perfect cluster of symmetrical 
 beauty. There's a lot of charmers, thought Facey, as he looked them 
 over, and then proceeded to nod to, and "how are ye?" the field. 
 Our master's greetings were responded to, but the parties evidently 
 seemed as if they expected something more; viz., to be introduced to 
 the lady. This, however, Facey had no notion of doing, keeping, as 
 he said, the coat's and the petticoat's account distinct, so he proceeded 
 up the common to the usual halting-place; viz., the guide-post, where 
 the Low Thornton and Hemmington roads intersected the waste. 
 
 Here was a fresh gathering — the cream of the hunt — the gentlemen 
 Who came late, in fact, Newton, and Snobson, and Hastier, and 
 Spooner, the two Ribbings, with Spencer Jones, and Burgess and 
 Scarratt, with the usual concomitant grooms. Great were the nudg- 
 ings, and starings, and what next-ings as the cavalcade approached. 
 The like had never been seen in the Heavyside Hunt. 
 
 " Well done, Komford ! " exclaimed one. 
 
 f 2 
 
68 MR. FACEY ROMFORD'S HOUNDS. 
 
 " Who'd ha' thought it?" muttered another. 
 
 " A lady whipper-in," observed a third. 
 
 " A deuced pretty one, too," observed young Spooner, drawing his 
 horse round to have a good stare at her. 
 
 And very pretty she was. Nicely hatted, nicely habited, nicely 
 horsed, nicely arranged altogether. 
 
 So thought they all as she passed along, looking down demurely, as 
 if she thought of nobody, and thought nobody thought of her. That 
 of course was a little acting. 
 
 " Mornin'," said Facey, " mornin', mornin'," continued he, giving 
 two or three random shots of nods at the different groups of sportsmen 
 as he passed, several of whom took off their hats to the lady. He 
 then made for a piece of rising ground a little to the left of the guide- 
 post, in order to give his hounds a roll on the greensward prior to 
 throwing off. And as he showed no symptoms of a desire to intro- 
 duce his fair friend to this the first-class portion of his field either, 
 they renewed their criticisms as soon as the cavalcade was past. 
 
 "Why, that's Mrs. Rounding' s horse," observed Jones. 
 
 "So it is," said Mr. Newton. "Thought there couldn't be two of 
 that colour." 
 
 " They say he's vicious," observed Hastier. 
 
 "Nothing of the sort," replied Newton. Mrs. Rounding has no 
 hand. See! that lady can do what she likes with him," added he, 
 watching Lucy's light hand, as she twisted and turned the horse about 
 at her will. 
 
 " Who is she?" asked Mr. George Ribbing, pressing up. 
 
 " Don't know," answered Hastier, with a shake of the head. 
 
 "I do," observed Jones, with a knowing wink. 
 
 " Well, who ? " asked several. 
 
 " The lady at the ' West-end Swell,' to be sure," replied he, after 
 a pause. 
 
 " Oh, nonsense," rejoined Bibbing, " not a bit like her." 
 
 " As like as ladies generally are in hats and habits to what they are 
 in dresses." 
 
 " Well, they do make a great difference to be sure," observed Snob- 
 son, who had mistaken Mrs. for Miss Noakes, once. 
 
 "But what is she doing here ? " demanded Spooner. 
 
 " Better ask the master that," replied Bibbing. 
 
 Facey, however, didn't look at all like a man to take liberties with, 
 as he sat in the midst of his hounds, his little watchful ferrety eyes 
 peeping and peering about in all directions, to " see how," as he said, 
 "the cat jumped." 
 
THE LADY WHIPPER-IN. 69 
 
 Lucy, on her part, took things very quietly, apparently paying mora 
 attention to the hounds than watching who was looking at her, though 
 of course she still kept an eye out for admiration. Leotard also 
 behaved most amiably, answering the touch of her light hand on the 
 plain snaffle-bit, now turning Pillager, now following Runimager, as 
 though he were personally interested in the order and decorum of the 
 pack. At length, time being up, — a quarter to eleven, — Facey gave 
 Lucy a nod, and after a wide-spreading run through the common, a 
 slight twang of the horn brought the hounds to his horse's heels, and 
 away they all jogged for Falcondale Wood. 
 
 CHAPTEK XVIII. 
 
 THE LADY WHirPEK-IK". 
 
 "Yotr take the high side," said Facey to Lucy, as they now 
 approached the cover — a long straggling wood, placed on a steepish 
 hill-side. "You take the high side, and blow this whistle if he 
 breaks," continued he, giving her a shrill dog- whistle as he spoke; 
 whereupon Lucy scuttled away up the rough side at the east end of 
 the wood, closely followed by sundry swells, who preferred watching 
 her to keeping along the low fields as usual. 
 
 " Cover, hoick!" cried Facey to his hounds, with a slight wave of 
 his arm, and in an instant they were tumbling and scrambling head 
 over heels through the blind fence into the wood. Facey, mounted on 
 Brilliant, then rode quietly along on the line, keeping a watchful eye 
 as well on the now wide-spreading pack in the cover as on the Lucy- 
 pressing youths up above. He had only sixteen couple of hounds out, 
 having brought nothing but what he could depend upon. They had 
 not been in cover many minutes, ere old black-and-tan Vanquisher, 
 who hud hurried along a path with a palpable but still unproclaimable 
 fecent, struck up a little fern-covered ravine, and as nearly as possible 
 had old Reynard by the neck. But the fox bounced with a desperate 
 energy that aroused the whole pack ; a crash sounded through the 
 wood as they hurried together, while the shrill sound of the whistle 
 presently proclaimed he was gone. Facey got his horse by the head, 
 and cramming into the ragged fence, cleared the wide water-channel 
 beyond, and forced his way up the wooded bank, regardless alike of 
 stubs, briars, and thorns. Another effort over a broad rail-topped 
 
70 MR. FACEY ROMFOhl/s HOUNDS. 
 
 mound, with, a yawner on the far side, landed him handsomely on 
 farmer Bushell's fallow, just as the hounds, closely followed by Lucy, 
 rrere straining over the large grass -field beyond. There was a rare 
 scent. Every hound threw his tongue, making the welkin ring with 
 the melody. So they raced up Amerton Hill, past Nutwell Grove 
 and Kellerton Law, through Oakley "Wood beyond. The pace pre- 
 sently slackened ; hunting became more the order of the day, to the 
 satisfaction of the majority of the field, who preferred seeing the 
 intricacies of the chase unravelled, to being borne furiously along at a 
 pace that did not allow ^hem to look after anything but themselves. 
 Thus they hunted steadily past Brackenhill Green, skirting Orton 
 Moor, leaving the Scar on the left, down the banks by the "Winwick 
 road, into the Yale of Heatherfield below. Lucy and Facey, or rather 
 Facey and Lucy, kept their places gallantly, Leotard going with the 
 greatest temper and moderatiou, as though he were the best-behaved 
 horse in the world. 
 
 Whatever Facey took, Lucy took ; and whatever Lucy took, the 
 young H. H.'s felt constrained to take, for the honour and credit of 
 the hunt. So there was more dashing riding and heavy fencing on 
 this occasion than usual. Romford, to do him justice, was always 
 with his hounds, though Daniel Swig and Chowey both knew how to 
 shirk. The steady hounds still kept pressing on, carrying the scent 
 over the sandy soil of Heatherfield Yale with laudable pertinacity. 
 This enabled the " heavy fathers " of the stage — the paterfamiliases 
 of the hunt — to come up, and presently the Westham and Studland 
 road resounded with the ringing hoofs of the horses, and the laughing 
 hilarity of the riders, each overjoyed at getting such a near view. 
 And the slower the pace, the more they enjoyed it. " Splendid 
 hounds ! Finest run that ever was seen ! By Jove ! they're away 
 again ! " And scarcely had the fatties given their horses the wind, 
 and the youngsters looked down for lost shoes, ere Harmony and 
 Desperate, having got upon a warm headland, gave such a proclama- 
 tion of satisfaction as brought all their fellows to the enjoyment, 
 making young and old again drop on their reins. The hunt was up ! 
 Facey' s round shoulders were again careering in the distance, and 
 Lucy's plump figure was equally conspicuous. So they raced away, 
 the hounds passing handsomely through the deer in Beechboi'ough 
 Park, round Sorrel Hill, past the limekilns at Dewlish, and into 
 Langlcy lordship beyond. And here the first check occurred. The 
 fox had been chased by a shepherd's dog, and the mischief waa 
 increased by a complication of sheep. The stupid muttons were just 
 wheeling into line as Facey slipped through the farmyard on the hilL 
 
THE LADY WHIPPER-IN. 71 
 
 "Hold hard!" cried he, raising his hand high in air, to enforce* 
 quiet from those behind, while his hounds made their own cast ere he 
 interfered with them. They spread and cast well to the front, to the 
 right, to the left, — but no scent. The fox has been forced back on his 
 line, and the field are all over the ground. The steam of the horses, 
 the chatter of the followers, and the clatter of the roadsters, increase 
 the disaster. Facey sits transfixed, one keen eye watching the 
 hounds, the other raking the country round. At length he sees the 
 block author of the mischief skulking along a hedgerow to his smock- 
 frocked master, who appears at a railing at the far corner of the field. 
 " Case for a cast," says Facey to himself; and getting his horse by 
 the head, he halloas " turn them," to Lucy, who forthwith gets round 
 them in a quiet but most masterly manner, and a single twang of 
 Facey' s horn, with a crack of her whip, sent them all flying the way 
 Facey wanted them. He then gave them plenty of swing, letting 
 them use their own sagacity as much as possible, and Avas rewarded at 
 the end of a semicircular cast by hitting off the scent at a meuse. 
 
 " Well done ! " " Devilish well done ! " " Capitally done ! " cried 
 the field, more to Lucy than Facey, as the hounds dashed over the 
 fence into the turnip-field beyond, and took up the running inside the 
 hedgerow. Being on turf, with a pleasant vista of white gates before 
 them, the field kept on that tack, and Facey went scuttling along, 
 throwing wide the portals as he passed. The best of friends, however, 
 must part, and the line of gates at length came to an abrupt termina- 
 tion in a very roiigh, tangled boundary fence between Mr. Pilkington's 
 and Emmerson Gunliffe's farms, at Shepherdswell Hill. It seemed as 
 if it was made up of all the rubbish and refuse of the country, and 
 zig-zagged like a lady's vaiidyked petticoat, wasting and spoiling a 
 great width of land. 
 
 For the first time in the run, Facey changed his mind as he 
 approached the fence, turning from a tangled black thorn, lapped 
 with mountain ash, to a still more impervious-looking ivy-blind place. 
 
 " Dash it ! but this is a rum customer," said Facey to Lucy, as he 
 stood erect in his stirrups, looking what was on the far side. 
 
 " Oh, throw your heart over it," said Lucy, " and then follow it as 
 quickly as you can." 
 
 " Heart ! " muttered Facey. " I shall never find it again if I do. 
 It would be like lookin' for a needle in a bundle of hay." 
 
 " Let me try, then," said Lucy, backing Leotard to give him a good 
 run at it. She then put his head straight, gave him a slight touch of 
 the whip and a feel of the spur, and was presently floundering in the 
 thick of the fence 
 
72 MR. FACET ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 " I thought how it would be," said Facey, jumping off his horse, 
 and running to her assistance. But before he got up, another 
 vigorous effort of the horse extricated her from her difficulties, and 
 landed her in the next field, with a considerable quantity of burrs and 
 briers in her habit. 
 
 " "Weil done the lady !" cried the panting Mr. Goldthorp, now 
 coming up, not only pleased, but grateful for the performance. 
 
 If Facey would but charge it too, the field might all be able to 
 get through. What a place it was ! 
 
 And Facey, having clambered back into his saddle, turned his horse 
 quick round, and thrusting his hat down on his brow, claimed his 
 right of saltation. They were all ready to yield him the pas, services 
 of danger being generally at a discount, and Romford was presently 
 planted in the midst of the thicket, which Leotard had done little to 
 enlarge. Scramble they went, the horse fighting and struggling as if 
 in the sea, Facey sitting with his feet out of the stirrups, ready to 
 throw himself off clear if required. It, however, was not necessary, 
 for "Brilliant, after many flounders, with a tremendous heave, 
 extricated himself from a woodbine-laced binder that held him, and 
 landed on his nose on the opposite side. He was up like lightning, 
 and Facey, who held on by the mane and his spurs, being chucked 
 back into his seat, gathered himself together, and ere he sat, gave a 
 cheering exclamation of " There's nothing on the far side !" But if 
 there was nothing on the far side, there was a great deal on theirs, as 
 many of them seemed to be aware. However, it was no time for 
 measuring, and Leotard's friend, Tom Heslop, comiug up on a three- 
 parts-broken cart colt, dashed manfully in, and fought a road safely 
 through in the miraculous way peculiar to drunken men. What 
 before was all doubt and obscurity, suddenly became clear and trans- 
 parent. It was then who should get at it first. No " I'll hold your 
 horse if you'll catch mine," or friendly negotiation of that sort. 
 Meanwhile, the hounds had shot sadly away, leaving not a trace of 
 theix melody behind ; and but for the clubbing of sheep and the staring 
 of cattle, the H. H. gentlemen would hardly have known which way 
 to ride. To be sure, an occasional countryman, after a prolonged stare, 
 in reply to the inquiry if he had seen the hounds, would drawl out, 
 " Ye-a-s, ar see'd them," but none of them could muster intelligence 
 enough to answer " where," ere the questioner was out of ear-shot. 
 However, they rode on, hopefully and manfully : the young ones, as 
 usual, abusing the fox for taking such a line, the old ones wishing they 
 might come up with them again before they killed. 
 
 Fortune, however, always favours the brave, and after clattering 
 
THE LADY WHIPPER-IN. • 73 
 
 through, the little straggling straw-thatched village of Reepham, 
 bringing all the women and children to the doors in bewildered 
 astonishment, Mr. Friar's quick eye caught sight of a red-coat topping 
 the hedge on the opposite hill, up whose sandy side ran the road they 
 were then pursuing. 
 
 " Yonder they go !" cried he, pointing it out with his whip, though 
 he did not know how far the hounds might be ahead of the coat. But 
 riding to anything was better than riding to nothing, galloping about 
 the country, exclaiming, " Have you seen the hounds ?" 
 
 They then clattered down Cockenhatch Hill, across the bridge over 
 the rushing stream, and laying hold of their horses' manes, proceeded 
 to stand in their stirrups, and hug them up the opposite bank. That 
 gained, some of the yovng ones, disdaining the road, dashed over a 
 quickset fence into a heavy fallow, and sought the line Mr. Rom- 
 ford was leading, or rather following, for Lucy was leading. The old 
 ones pounded away on the road, reaching the crown of Eccleston Hill 
 long before the seceders, when their admiring optics were greeted 
 with a sight of the hounds swinging down the green slope of Rippen- 
 dale Hill, closely followed by Lucy and Facey. Then there was a 
 burst of enthusiasm at the magnificent way the hounds were doing 
 their work, slightly clouded, perhaps, by the sight of the silvery 
 Kibble, meandering its tortuous course through the rich green fields 
 of the vale. "What if he should cross it, thought they. However, 
 it was no time for reflection. Meanwhile, Facey and Lucy had got 
 together, and Facey's keen eye descried the fox taking the water, 
 and floating down the stream so as to land a good way below the 
 taking-off place. 
 
 " Cunnin' beggar," said Facey, pointing him out to Lucy; "but 
 I'll have you in hand for all that," muttered he. 
 
 The fox then crawled out on the opposite side, and after shaking 
 himself leisurely among some dwarf willows, and listening to the 
 music of the hounds, he again set off on his travels, as if in no way 
 particularly concerned in the concert. He was an old dog-fox that 
 had beat Lotherington and his lumberers twice or thrice before, and 
 did not go in great fear of them. He was not aware that there had 
 been any change in the programme, or he might have put on a little 
 more steam. However, he kept on at a good steady pace, and being 
 now so far from home, thought he might as well go on to Addington 
 "Woods, where there were not only plenty of rabbits, but very comfort- 
 aole quarters and respectable keepers. And Facey, who saw the 
 woods in the distance, and knew their attractions, thought to terminate 
 the performance before they got there, not knowing when he might 
 
74. . MR. FACEY EOMFORDS HOUNDS. 
 
 get out again if lie once got in, with only his fair friend for a "whip. 
 So, riding inside the hounds, he cut off a wide angle, and met them at 
 the place where the fox had crossed. Up they presently came, lashing 
 and bristling for blood. 
 
 " Yoick, over he goes! " cried Mr. Romford, taking off his hat, as 
 Constance and Cruiser spoke to the scent on the exact track of 
 the fox. 
 
 Forthwith the whole pack took the water like a flock of sheep, and 
 went fighting, and splashing, and striving to be first out. Then, after 
 a scramble out, and a hearty preliminary shake, they again put their 
 inquiring noses to the ground to solve the problem, •• wnicn way has 
 he gone ? " Trumpeter struck the scent with an exulting flourish ; 
 the rest scorned to cry, and away they went, pressing and pushing as 
 before. 
 
 " For-rari, away!" cried Facey, turning Brilliant about to have a 
 run at the breok. " Well, how is it to be ? " said he to Lucy, ere he 
 dropped in his spurs to send his horse at it. "You first or I first?" 
 
 " Oh, both together," replied Lucy, turning Leotard round also to 
 take it in line. 
 
 "Bear to the left, then," said Facey, nodding to a narrower place 
 at an abrupt bend of the brook. "You take off by the bush there, 
 and I'll go a little higher up, so that we mayn't break the bank with 
 our weight." 
 
 It was a prudent resolve ; for the bank, which was a great resort for 
 water-rats, immediately gave way with the weight of one horse ; and 
 when the first of the H. H.'s came up, hoping to cross over it as our 
 master and his lady had apparently done, they found a very frowning, 
 yawning, formidable-looking place, that did not at all improve upon 
 acquaintance. 
 
 However, there was no help for it : a brook is a brook, and must 
 be either taken or let alone. Neither sober nor drunken men can 
 do anything for us, and some of the knowing elderlies boldly wheeled 
 round for Lowington Ford, while the younger ones charged here, there, 
 and everywhere, two getting in for one that got over. Great was the 
 splashing and snorting, and snatching at hats, and scrambling after 
 whips, and loud the exclamations of " Catch my horse ! " " Turn my 
 horse ! " " Help me out with my horse ! " But for the inconvenience 
 of being beaten by a lady, very few of them would have risked a 
 ducking. 
 
 The country now became wilder and opener, the scent worse, and 
 the seeing better. You looked into the landscape with minute distinct- 
 ness. The Addington Woods were darkly visible. He would like to 
 
THE LADY WHIPPER-IN. 75 
 
 lay hold of him before he got there. A fresh fox would he very 
 inconvenient at that hour. 
 
 " For-rard ! for-rard ! for-rard! " cheered Facey, to get his hounds 
 on ; hut the land was poor and exposed, and the line took a deal of 
 linding. 
 
 " To guide a scent well over a country for a length of time, and 
 through all sorts of difficulties, requires the best and most experienced 
 abilities," said Mr. Eomford to Lucy, as they now trotted on, watching 
 the proceedings. 
 
 " Dash it ! yonder he goes !" exclaimed Facey, pointing the fox out 
 to Lucy, stealing at a very steady, serviceable pace along the low side 
 of a rough gorse-grown pasture, some fields ahead. 
 
 " So it is," replied she, recognising her friend. 
 
 •' Put them on to me, and I'll give them a lift," said Facey, pulling 
 out his horn, and clapping spurs to his horse. 
 
 Tweet, tweet, tweet ! went the horn; crack, crack, crack went Lucy's 
 light whip, and away the willing pack flew after their master. 
 
 As long as Facey viewed the fox, he galloped and blew his horn, 
 and then stopped just at the place where he had seen him last. The 
 hounds then dropped their noses, and quickly hit off the scent on much 
 more favourable ground. They ran in good earnest. Galloper no 
 longer keeps his place — Brusher takes it. See how he flings for the 
 scent, and how impetuously he runs ! Now another takes it, and so it 
 is lost and caught, and caught and lost, by the compact phalanx of 
 competing mouths. Mr. Eomford cheers them on, for he is anxious to 
 kill the fox as well for the credit of his pack as the eclat of our fair 
 whipper-in. So he rides, all eyes, ears, and fears, looking anxiously 
 out for any indication of the line. A man on a hay -rick now holds 
 up his hat, and our master presently views the fox again, still pur- 
 suing the even tenor of his way towards the large sheltering woods. 
 He has a good steady stare, and calculates the respective paces of each, 
 thinking the balance of speed rather in favour of the fox. He is half 
 inclined to lift them again. If it weren't that they were hunting so 
 \\ ell, he would do it. Just then fortune favours him. A party of 
 practising riflemen, whom Pug mistakes for poachers, having been 
 most unhandsomely peppered by one of the tribe, begin bang, bang, 
 banging at the butt, causing him to make a long detour by Shirrington, 
 and through Brandsby stone pits to Sherley. That seals his doom, 
 lie gets into a more populous neighbourhood, is headed and bothered, 
 and driven from point to point, until baffled and flurried, he is almost- 
 driven into the mouths of the pack. Giving his horse to Lucy, Mr. 
 Romford dives among the worrying hounds, and picks him up a 
 
76 MR. FACEY ROMFORD'S HOUNDS. 
 
 lamentable victim of mistaken identity. He had had a very different 
 pursuer to Mr. Lothcrington. If he had known it was Romford, ha 
 would have made more sail. 
 
 " Who-hoop ! " hollows Mr. Romford, holding him on high. 
 "Who -hoop !" repeats he, with redoubled emphasis. ""Who-hoop !" 
 shrieked he for the third time. " Dash my buttons if I was ever so 
 pleased at killing a fox in my life !" continued our master, throwing 
 him on to the ground, and proceeding to examine his mouth. "A 
 reg'lar hen-stealin', goose -gobblin', turkey-worryin' old sinner," 
 announced he, rising, and diving into his long, baggy black-and-white 
 tartan vest for his knife. Off went the brush, head, and pads. 
 "There," said Mr. Romford, pocketing them, "you'll do no more 
 mischief." Then he again raised the now mutilated carcase high in 
 air with both hands, and with a profusion of " Who -hoops," threw it 
 to the clamorous pack, with an equal profusion of " Worry, worry, 
 worried." 
 
 " Clear the course there !" now exclaimed he, as the pull-devil pull- 
 baker pack, having broken the ring, were scrambling among the 
 crowding horses' legs. "Clear the course there!" repeated he, 
 driving the field back with his whip like a circus master. Then 
 tuere arose inquiries for the brush and the pads, and how long it had 
 been. 
 
 " Brush is bespoke," muttered Facey, advancing to Lucy, and deco- 
 rating Leotard's head with it. " Better than the baccy-shop, this," 
 said he, in an under-tone, with a knowing wink, as he adjusted 
 it. And Lucy thought of the time when another sportsman (Mr. 
 {Sponge) placed a well-won brush in her hat, and sighed. 
 
 He then distributed the pads, while the satisfied field expatiated on 
 the merits of the run, the time, the distance, and the severity of the 
 pace. Nothing could be better, they all agreed. Time, an hour and 
 twenty minutes ; distance, anything they like to call it. And they 
 were all extremely obliged to the lady, they said. So they at length 
 separated in various detachments, according to their respective destina- 
 tions, many of them " Which way-ing?" the country people, as though 
 they had just dropped from the clouds. And Lucy and Facey rode 
 home extremely well satisfied with themselves, and the hounds and 
 the horses, and with all they had done. Facey had no idea that Lucy 
 was such a fine horsewoman, not knowing she had been in a circus 
 before she took to the stage. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE FKA.CA.S. 
 
 TVe are sorry to say that the unanimity which prevailed in the 
 hunting-field, respecting Lucy and her equestrian performances, was 
 not shared in by the domestic circles of the H. H. hunt. Her appear- 
 ance, instead of propitiating matters as was expected, only fanned the 
 smouldering flame of discontent that had been lit up by the sale of 
 Leotard to Mrs. Rowley Rounding into a downright blaze of anger and 
 revenge. 
 
 "What! they were to have pretty horse-breakers down in the 
 country, were they ?" the ladies exclaimed. " They didn't care about 
 Mr. Romford's wealth or his pack, or his sporting prowess, or any- 
 thing about him. They would have no impropriety ? " 
 
 The "H. H." had always been a most respectable, well-conducted 
 hunt; and respectable it should be to the end of the chapter, or their 
 husbands should have nothing to do with it. And they talked, and 
 fumed, and stimulated each other into a grand phalanx of resistance. 
 "j\ T o pretty horse-breaker ! " was the cry. Swig and Chowey being 
 still hors de combat, Lucy continued to officiate in their places to 
 greatly diminishing fields, until one morning, at the meet at Mr. 
 Trollinger's, Emerald Hall, instead of the usual offer of hospitality, 
 they found the door shut, the window-blinds down, and the earths 
 open ; so when Facey thought the hounds were settling well to their 
 fox, and about to drive him from the round hill on the left into the 
 open, he popped into the honeycombed breeding earth behind the 
 home farm. Pretty nearly the same thing was repeated at Starcross 
 Court, much to Mr. Romford's chagrin; for though he cared nothing 
 about the breakfast inside, or the sherry and biscuits at the door, he 
 was always very anxious for what he called a "gollop." 
 
 And as the party most concerned is oftentimes the last to know the 
 real facts, so our friend was the talk of the country, without his having 
 the slightest idea that he had done anything wrong. At length, one 
 gentleman more venturesome than the rest volunteered to enlighten him, 
 and also to express the almost unanimous wish of the country that he 
 would be good enough to resign it. Mr. Romford was petrified. He had 
 
78 ME. FACEY ROMFORD'S HOUNDS. 
 
 no idea that ladies were prohibited from hunting with the H. H. Lucy 
 intruded upon no one, and why should they interfere with her ? He 
 didn't understand such work — dashed if he did. 
 
 All this was looked upon as the arrogance of riches, and made the 
 malcontents more than ever determined to sever the connection. 
 Facey at first was inclined to be pacific, not wishing to forfeit the 
 great eminence he had attained, and he was half inclined to concede 
 that Lucy should not come out any more ; but the ladies would not let 
 thp-ir husbands negotiate, and none of the fair dames being particularly 
 fond of fox-hunting, which they considered a veiy inferior sport to 
 shooting, they thought it would be a good thing to stop the adven- 
 turous amusement for a time, and also punish a purse-proud, arrogant 
 man for his impertinence in thus thinking to ride rough-shod over 
 them. So " go " was the word. 
 
 Then Mr. Eomford finding himself in a fix, dislodging the Turcot 
 for a time, mounted his own cap of dignity, and resolved, if he was 
 to lose the country, to sell himself as dearly as he could. So he said, 
 of course he should not think of remaining a moment if he did not 
 give perfect satisfaction, but they must all be aware of the enormous 
 sacrifice he had made in coming to them, and the great outlay he had 
 incurred in hunting the country, which would entitle him to the sub- 
 scription for the season the same as if he remained, — not that he cared 
 a farthing about money, and. would most likely give it to a charity, but 
 he did not choose to be snubbed or dictated to in that sort of way. 
 And he talked as if he was well bred on both sides of his head, instead 
 of only on one, and as if his pockets were full to repletion — talked till 
 he almost made himself believe he was a gentleman. So the H. H.'s, 
 not liking to contend with a man of Mr. Romford's means, were at 
 length obliged to succumb. And they closed just in time to enable him 
 to restore them some sixteen couple of the old H. H. hounds, which he 
 had out at -walk in various parts of the country, whose fate veered 
 between the members of that, famous scratch pack the Gatherley hounds 
 and the rope — the Gatherley' s wanting the hounds for less than Mr. 
 Romford chose to take. He had long since put down the most incor- 
 rigible of the old offenders, and, having now got his own pack well 
 made, could afford to dispense with the rest. So he drafted all those 
 with H. H. on their sides, and told his late followers, that he wished 
 them joy of their treasures. 
 
 Facey was now better in funds than he had ever been in the whole 
 course of his life ; better, indeed, he almost thought than if he had got 
 Oncle Gilroy's fortin' ; for if he hadn't got a fortin', he at all events 
 had learned how to acquire one, and that was by hunting a country, 
 
THE FRACAS. 79 
 
 keeping hounds, and getting his sport at other people's expense. Far 
 better than railway-making, turnip-sniggling, thief-catching, or any of 
 the promiscuous pursuits he had once thought of. Hunting a country 
 was the thing, and though the H. H.'s might take exception to his 
 menage, as Lucy called it, they could take none whatever to his prowess 
 as a sportsman. If they didn't know his worth, others would. It 
 must be a very "slee fox" that could beat him. And, though Mr. 
 Romford said it himself, there was a great deal of truth in the asser- 
 tion, for he had a wonderful knack at circumventing a fox, and if 
 there was not much style in his proceedings, there was a great deal 
 of execution. This the H. H. gentlemen felt, and recalled how often 
 they had seen him handling his fox when old Lotherington had been 
 nonplused, casting about without rhyme or reason — asking everybody's 
 opinion and advice — " Which way do you think he's gone, Mr. Brown ?" 
 "Which way do you, Mr. Green ? " That " which way " is a very posing 
 question. However, there was no help for it, and a penn'orth of com- 
 fort being worth three -halfpence to most of them, Romford, and Lucy, 
 and Leotard, and all had to go, and were presently back at the old 
 quarters at the " West-end Swell," Facey telling people that the H. H.'s 
 were such a set of confounded cock-tails he had given up the country 
 in disgust. He then took stock, and found himself master of fifty 
 couple of most efficient hounds, with the recipe for getting more, and 
 a comfortable sum of money in his pocket. Very well oif in fact. 
 What he called " a very able man." 
 
 " There are as good fish in the sea as ever came out of it," said 
 Facey, determining to take another try in the advertising line ; and 
 forthwith he concocted a very specious announcement, offering the 
 services of a gentleman with an excellent pack of hounds, to whom 
 6ubsci*iption was a secondary consideration to sport, to hunt a country, 
 either for a term of years or for the remainder of the season. And 
 having despatched the same to "Bell's Life" and tbe "Field," he 
 quietly waited the result — amusing himself as best he could at the 
 aforesaid Dog and Partridge Inn. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE LARXSPTJK HUNT IK DOTJULEIMUPSHIRE. 
 
 .Is luck would have it, the very first announcement brought 
 im application from a gentleman, signing himself "Simon Green- 
 held, of Greenfield House, Honorary Secretary to the Larkspur 
 Hunt," asking him what he could do that season — immediately, 
 indeed. The Larkspur Hunt, like the Heavyside one, had long 
 been a free-gratis establishment — so long that the natives had 
 ceased to look upon not subscribing as any accommodation ; and 
 when old Mr. Bloomfield at length died, they had no doubt that 
 plenty of people would be found ready to take the country on the 
 same terms as he had had it. But experience shows, that with the 
 great increase of wealth has not come a corresponding desire to support 
 hounds, subscriptions being more difficult to collect now than they 
 were fifty years ago. Formerly, hunting with shooting, satisfied a man : 
 hunting from home, and shooting from home, both in reason and 
 moderation. But now everybody must do everything: hunt in Leices- 
 tershire, shoot in Scotland, fish in Norway, race at Newmarket, and 
 yacht everywhere, to say nothing of the necessity of enjoying the 
 expenses of a London season, whether he likes town or not. As 
 to a resident taking the hounds, that is a thing not to be thought 
 of; hence, we have a breed of migratory masters — men like Mr. 
 Bomford — who alight upon a country, and live out of the establish- 
 ment. There were plenty of what Mr. Romford would call "able 
 men " in Doubleimupshire (the scene of the Larkspur Hunt opera- 
 tions), but they were all either gentlemen enjoying life's wholesale 
 recreations, or gentlemen most earnestly bent on making more money. 
 The former gave their subscriptions more from coercion than anything 
 else; while the latter found it more to their interest to subscribe 
 liberally than to waste time, which to them was money, in interfering 
 with what they didn't understand, and with which they would most 
 likely burn their fingers if they meddled. So they gave their money 
 and stuck to their trades, some hunting for fashion, some medicinally, 
 some for air and exercise, some they didn't know why. But as they 
 were all £. s. d.-men, men deeply imbued with the spirit of gain, who 
 had never been accustomed to the growing exorbitance of a pack of 
 
THE LARKSPUR HUNT IN DOUBLEIMUPSHIRE. SI 
 
 hounds, they always felt themselves imposed upon — never thought 
 they got half enough for their money — never believed the hounds cost 
 what they said, were always sure whoever had them was making 
 money out of them, and so they went on until none hut the worst 
 of the migratory masters would touch, and at last even they began 
 to fight shy. At length the country became vacant altogether, and 
 had got so far into the season without hounds, when Mr. Romford's 
 opportune advertisement appeared. It was looked upon as a very 
 apropos announcement, — one that ought to be cultivated, and forth- 
 with each man began screwing his neighbour to see if he could not 
 induce him to subscribe a little more. The usual stock-victims, — the 
 Lord Lieutenant, the County Members, and the Borough Members, — of 
 course, were applied to, it being part of their duty to find funds 
 for all. There was plenty of money in the county, plenty of plate 
 and powdered footmen, but somehow the parties preferred producing 
 the latter to the former. But plate and powdered footmen alone 
 won't draw, and the ladies soon began to feel the want of the 
 red-coats, and the enlivening meets of the hounds. In this respect 
 they differed from the Heavyside ladies, who thought sherry and 
 biscuits was all that was required; whereas the Larkspur ladies 
 looked upon a hunt as a grand nucleus of society — the promoter 
 of balls, breakfasts, dinners, races, conviviality of all sorts. And 
 as the winter had opened gloomily, and threatened to be very dull, 
 they were more than usually urgent and pressing, when they heard 
 of the advertisement, lest some other country might catch the adver- 
 tiser up ; for we all fancy other people want what we do. So Mr. 
 Simon Greenfield, who gave his services to the hunt instead of sub- 
 scribing, was instructed to reply to the advertisement on behalf of the 
 members of the Larkspur Hunt, whose country, Doubleimup shire, was 
 then vacant — asking who the liberal-minded gentleman was that was 
 ready to take one. And on receipt of the note, Mr. Roinford 
 replied, sealing the letter with the invaluable Turbot-sitting-on-its- 
 tail seal, which spoke more forcibly than whole reams of satin 
 note paper could have done. Mr. Romford ! Mr. Romford ! I know 
 the name perfectly, exclaimed several. And forthwith there was a 
 rush to the Burkes, and an anxious turn to the R.s — Rippon, Robson, 
 Robertson, Roddam, oh yes — all right — here he is, " Romford, Francis, 
 Esq., J. P., D. L., seat Abbeyfield Park, patron of five livings, crest — - 
 a Turbot sitting upon its tail on a cap of dignity." Just so ! — here it 
 is (holding up the letter), "a Turbot sitting upon its tail on a cap of 
 dignity." Well done, Romford, Francis, Esq. He would be the very 
 man for their money. 
 
 & 
 
82 ME. FACET ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 The announcement caused great satisfaction in Doubleimupshire, 
 for Mr. Romford's name was good, and, as he could only be changing 
 for the sake of improvement, the superiority of their county would 
 doubtless compensate for any little deficiency in the matter of funds. 
 And some of the small subscribers began to wish they had put them- 
 selves down for double the amount, seeing it was not likely to be 
 called for. So Mr. Simon Greenfield was requested to rejoin forthwith, 
 and thereupon a reciprocity of paper -politeness took place between Mr. 
 Roniford and him, in which the latter expressed his readiness to meet 
 Mr. Romford to confer on the matter at any place he might choose to 
 appoint. And Facey, not caring to have him too near, replied, after 
 a good consultation and calculation of Bradshaw, that fair play was a 
 jewel, and he would meet him half way, naming the Trench Crossing 
 station of the Union Railway, at Hopton Heath, which appeared to 
 divide the distance as nearly as possible, and being quite private, would 
 prevent any chance of interruption ; in other words, prevent any one 
 seeing him, and letting out that he was the wrong Romford. And 
 eo a meeting was appointed to take place accordingly. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 THE HONORARY SECEETAB.Y TO THE LABKSPTJE ETJKT. 
 
 Tue Trench Crossing station of the Union Railway at Hopton 
 Heath was an isolated shed upon a bleak, barren plain, inhabited 
 only by a solitary snipe of a station-master, who but for the appoint- 
 ment would have made a capital hermit. The Express trains shot 
 past it with disdain, the first and second classes only stopped on 
 demand, while the pick-ups and parlies alone pulled up voluntarily, 
 and having once stopped seemed as if they would never go on again. 
 Facey had been down that way once before on a crusade against Sir 
 Charles Goodacre's pheasants, and knew how to change his third- 
 class ticket for a first one at Fiddler's Ferry station so as to come up 
 all right first class at the heath. His appearance on this occasion 
 was very different to what it was then, his tenpenny wide-awake 
 being exchanged for a good black hat, and his rough pouched-like 
 garb for a very becoming sporting attire. In truth, Lucy Glitters — 
 we beg pardon — Mrs. Sponge had civilised him amazingly, trimming 
 his mane, and reducing the ruggcdness of his uncouth all-round -the- 
 
THE HONORARY SECRETARY TO THE LARKSPUR HUNT. 83 
 
 face whiskers. Upon this occasion he sported a neat scaiiet-and-white 
 striped tie, secured with a splendid diamond (Brighton diamond) ring, 
 that would have been worth many hundreds had it been real, whereasi 
 he had only given eighteenpence for it. Still it looked very Laud- 
 some, and, though Mr. Facey was ugly enough, he had the size and 
 the action that carry a thing off. Then, when he discarded his smart 
 gray or rather lavender-coloured paletot, he disclosed a neat, single- 
 breasted, dark gray morning coat, striped buff vest, with Bedford- 
 cord trousers, and buttoned boots. In his dog-skin-gloved hand he 
 clutched a green silk parasol-like umbrella, the property of Lucy, 
 which looked altogether out of proportion to the monster who 
 carried it. 
 
 A railway journey, unlike a road one, can eitber be made long or 
 short, or middling, according to the taste and inclination of the 
 traveller, and there is no limit to what steam will accomplish. Hence, 
 it follows that time affords no criterion of the distance that a man 
 may travel in a day. It all depends upon the train, whether he has 
 flown by express, or taken it quietly by an ordinary train. Mr. 
 Romford did a little of all sorts, changing from one line to another, 
 from one class to another, as did his travelling coadjutor from the 
 contrary direction, until, like the weird sisters in Macbeth, they at 
 length met upon the " blasted heath." Facey came up in a slow 
 train. Puff-whew-hew-ew-whiou, whew ! and the sluggish monster 
 at last got its cumbrous length laid alongside the little station. Out 
 came the Snipe for a stare, never imagining that two passengers could 
 want to alight there in one day. Two baskets he had had, and three 
 boxes, in one day, but he never remembered two passengers. So he 
 didn't proclaim the name of the station. Mr. Romford, however, 
 looked out and saw it, and prepared to alight. On the little platform 
 stood a mildly drawn looking pink and white young gentleman, of some 
 five-and-twenty or thirty years of age. Just the sort of man that 
 Facey would like to have to negotiate with. A glance of his keen 
 ferreting eyes told him that he could, what he called, " talk him off 
 his legs in no time." He was glad to see he was alone, for then he 
 needn't mind what he said. Lowering the third of the remaining car- 
 riage window in which he was seated, he called to the Snipe to open the 
 door, and then alighted with the stately deliberation of a man doing 
 the consequential instead of the hurrying out of a second or third 
 class carriage. Advancing towards where the stranger stood, he 
 gave his new hat a groomy sort of a rap with his fore finger 
 accompanied by a duck of the head, and a mutter of " Mr. Greenfield, 
 I believe." 
 
81 ME. FACET HOMFOED's HOUNDS. 
 
 " Mr. Greenfield it is," replied the placid stranger, -with a smile, 
 adding, " Mr. Bornford, I 'spose," with a bow, whereupon Facey 
 tendered him his substantial fist, and pump-handled him severely. 
 
 " Ticket, sir, please," said the solitary Snipe, now coming up ; which 
 being delivered up, and Facey having arranged his paletot becom- 
 ingly across his arm, and felt that the Brighton diamond was safe, 
 turned again to the "Honorary Secretary," saying, " Now let's go in 
 and have a talk." Thereupon Facey led the way into the diminutive 
 waiting-room furnished with four black horse-hair-bottomed mahogany 
 chairs, a round table, and a gaudy-coloured oil-cloth on the floor. 
 In the little watch-pocket-like grate of a fireplace a few very inferior 
 coals were gradually smouldering into white ashes. 
 
 "Bring some fuel!" roared Facey, digging his capped toe into the 
 midst of the remnant ; and the want being supplied, he invited his 
 friend to be seated on one of the chairs, and, taking another himself^ 
 stuck himself well before the fire, and thus opened upon him — 
 
 " Now tell me first," said he, fixing his little ferreting eyes full 
 upon him — " Now tell me, do your people eat, or do they drink, or 
 do they hunt? I mean," said Facey, seeing the Honorary Secretary 
 did not understand him, " do they talk about their cooks or about 
 their wine, or about the sport they have had with the hounds?" 
 
 " Well, I don't know exactly," replied Mr. Greenfield, " they do a 
 little of all three occasionally. There is a good deal of dinner com- 
 pany goes on, and where there is eating there will be drinking and 
 talking too, you know." 
 
 " Ah, I don't care about dinners," replied Facey, with a shrug of 
 his great round shoulders ; "a little shooting would be more in my 
 way. Tell me now, are your people good-natured about their shoot- 
 ing, or do they kick up a dust if anybody gets on to their ground by 
 accident or mistake ?" 
 
 " Oh, some of them are very good-natured indeed, others are only 
 so-so — men vary you know." 
 
 " So they do," said Bornford — "so they do; one man is no more sr 
 criterion for another than one horse is a criterion for another, or one 
 hound a criterion for another. Every herring must hang by its own 
 head." He then began biting his nails and weeding his chin, as was 
 his wont on critical occasions. 
 
 " Now tell me about the hounds," at length resumed he, coming to 
 the real purport of the interview. " Tell me about the hounds. How 
 many days a-week do you want the country hunted ? " 
 
 "Four," replied Mr. Greenfield, promptly. 
 
 " And the subscription ? " rejoined Facey. 
 
THE HONORARY SECRETARY TO THE LARKSPUR HUNT. 85 
 
 " Well, from sixteen to eighteen hundred a-year," stammered Green- 
 field, who had been told to begin low. 
 
 " Sixteen to eighteen 'nnderd," muttered Facey, pulling a sample 
 out of his beai-d, and examining it attentively at the fire. " Sixteen 
 to eighteen 'underd a-year," repeated he. "How comes the uncer- 
 tainty ? There's a difference, you know, between sixteen and eighteen, 
 you know — difference of two, I should say, though I don't know 
 Iiothin' 'bout mathematics — 'rithmetic, I should say." 
 
 " There are always some people who put their names down and 
 don't pay," replied the Honorary Secretary. 
 
 " So there are," said Facey, " and be hanged to them — so there are, 
 as I know to my cost. Well, but I suppose we might put the sub- 
 scription down at eighteen 'underd a-year," continued he, pulling out 
 his betting-book, and doing a little " 'rithmetic" — "eighteen 'underd 
 from three thousand, and twelve 'underd remains. That would leave 
 twelve 'underd a-year for me," said he, with a " can't-be-done-ish " 
 sort of shake of the head. 
 
 " So much as that?" stared Mr. Greenfield. 
 
 " The way I should do it," replied Mr. Facey — " the way I should 
 do it. Of course there are some of these newfangled Marsh ••'-Like 
 masters who will do it for less, and live out of the subscription too, 
 but that sort of work wouldn't suit me. I must do the thing properly 
 or not at all." 
 
 Facey then arose, and diving his hands up to the hilts in his Bed- 
 ford-cord trouser pockets, took a meditative fling round the little 
 apartment, apparently lost in calculation, but in reality resolved not 
 to miss such a chance. 
 
 " It's too much for the master to pay," at length said he, pulling 
 up short, and sticking himself John Bull-ically (a coat-tail over each 
 arm) before the fire. '* It's too much for the master — but still I think 
 it might be manished, — I think it might be manished. 'Spose now," 
 said he, sitting down again, and placing a foot on each hob, " 'spose we 
 were to say — subscription two thousand — subscription two thousand — 
 that would leave a cool thousand for me — quite little enough for a 
 man who has all the trouble and bother of the thing." 
 
 " I am afraid we could hardly raise the money," replied Mr. Green- 
 field, meekly. 
 
 " Oh, easy enough," replied Mr. Romford — " easy enough. Put on 
 
 * An ex-groom, Laving changed Lis name from Marsh, and decorated Lis face with 
 iuustachios, took a country, and passed muster, until he hunted a ba^ fox on a 
 Sunday ! 
 
86 ME. FACEY EOMFOED'S HOUNDS. 
 
 the screw ! there are always plenty of fellows with more wool on 
 their backs than's good for them, who'll stand a little fleecing." 
 Mr. Greenfield sat mute, for his instructions were to fleece Facey. 
 " It's a disagreeable thing to talk about money," observed Mr. 
 Komford, with a pish and a pshaw, "but landed property is so different 
 to money property, where you get every farthing paid to the day, 
 that one's 'bliged to be a little prudent and circumspect. Won't do 
 to live up to one's income, you know," added Facey, with a shake of 
 the head. 
 
 " True," assented Mr. Greenfield, who had some house property 
 of his own, which was always either standing empty, tumbling 
 down, or wanting a year's rent laid out in repairs. 
 
 " Oh, I don't think there could be any difficulty about it," resumed 
 Mr. Romford, cheerfully, after a pause; "I don't think there would 
 be any difficulty about it. It's only like putting a per-centage on to 
 the present subscriptions, you know. Just as easy to draw a cheque for 
 sixty as for fifty. People don't care half so much for parting with 
 money by cheque, as they do in notes or sovs." 
 Mr. Greenfield sat mute. 
 
 " A man can't leave home without loss," observed Mr. Romford. 
 " "WTien the cat's away, the mice will play," continued he, taking 
 another sample out of his beard and examining it attentively as before. 
 The two then sat silent for a time, Facey twisting the hair about and 
 viewing it in various lights. 
 
 "You'll have the country hunted as it never was before," at 
 length observed Romford, throwing the hair into the fire. " I 
 don't like boasting, but if anybody can show sport I can. I have a 
 first-rate pack of hounds," added he; " spared no expense in getting 
 them." 
 
 Mr. Greenfield did not attempt to gainsay any part of this, his 
 friends of the Larkspur Hunt being quite content to take Mr. Rom- 
 ford, provided they could get him at their own price, but being a rich 
 man they thought they should have him cheaper than if he was a 
 poor one. And our friend, like the drunken actor who fancied himself 
 the King, in the Coronation, and exclaimed as he crossed the stage, 
 " God bless you, my people!" — our friend, we say, having talked so 
 long in thousands, began almost to think that he dealt in them too, and 
 that he was really a rich man, instead of a rank impostor. 
 
 Having given the fire another poke with his toe, for they did not 
 allow fire-irons at the Hopton Heath Station, Mr. Facey Romford got 
 up again and gave himself another fling round the room, as if for 
 inspiration. 
 
THE HONORARY SECRETARY TO THE LARKSPUR HUNT. 87 
 
 " You see now," said he, resuming his erect position before the 
 fire, " you see now, what I want is sport — sport is the first con- 
 sideration with me; but sport can't be had without money, and 
 we ought to put our shoulders fairly to the wheel together to 
 get it." 
 
 The Secretary nodded assent. 
 
 " Well, then, you see," said Facey, "besides what I shall lose by 
 leaving home, I shall have to increase my establishment; and I 
 needn't tell you, who see me, that a man of moy weight can't mount 
 himself for nothin.' Three 'underd is generally the figure I have to 
 give for horses. As soon as ever the rascals hear they are for Mr. 
 llomford, they immediately stick on the price. Then I should certainly 
 like to know about a little shooting and fishing — not that I can say I 
 should avail myself of either much, only it's pleasant to have an object 
 for a walk, and to feel that one can go out if one likes. Altogether I 
 think we understand each other," said Facey, thinking it would be 
 very odd if the Honorary Secretary did. "Two thousand a year guaran- 
 teed subscription, half in November and half in January, or the whole 
 in November, if you like, for four days a week, with an occasional 
 ' bye,' cover rents and stopping paid, and I'll undertake to show you 
 such sport as never was seen. But ' of their own merits modest men 
 are dumb ' — only, if I can't show sport, I don't know who can ; so 
 that's a bargain," said he, extending his right hand for a shake. 
 
 " Oh ! but I shall have to consult the gentlemen of the hunt, first," 
 exclaimed Mr. Greenfield, drawing back in alarm. " I shall have to 
 consult the gentlemen of the hunt, first." 
 
 " Or'd rot it, I thought you'd been a reg'larly 'pointed Plenipo- 
 tentiary," replied Facey, pretending disappointment at the answer. 
 "Or'd rot it, but I thought you'd been a reg'larly 'pointed Plenipo- 
 tentiary," repeated he. "However," said he, "you know what I 
 want, and must fig your fellows up to giving it. Tell them it's only 
 the superiority of their country that tempts me, notliirf else." 
 
 " I'll represent all you have said," replied Mr. Greenfield, 
 guardedly. 
 
 " And in talking about it, mind don't forget to broach the shooting, 
 Say I should like a little shooting." 
 
 " I'll not forget that either," assented Mr. Greenfield. 
 
 "Nor the fishing," rejoined Facey; adding, " It would do your 
 heart good to see me throw a fly. I really think the fish 
 feel a pride and a pleasure in being hooked by me," continued 
 he, flourishing his right arm as if he were in the act of handling a 
 fishing-rod , 
 
88 im. FACLf romford's hounds. 
 
 He had had a good deal of fishing where he was, and what with his 
 rod and his gun had kept the butcher's bill down. 
 
 Our master then took a general suck of the Secretary's brains, 
 learning as much about the country and characters in it as he could. 
 Tbey seemed to be a lively sort — quite different to the old Heavysides. 
 Dinners, balls, parties of all sorts. 
 
 The shrill skriek and screech of the whistle at length announced the 
 coming of the down-train, and Facey, who had arranged the visit with 
 a greater regard to his own convenience than that of the Honorary 
 Secretary, now asked him to give him a help on with his paletot, 
 which being adjusted, Facey gave him another pump-handling shake 
 of the hand, and emerging from the little waiting-room, was presently 
 seated conspicuously in a first-class carriage on his way back to 
 Minshul Yernon, exchanging the first-class for a third one, as before. 
 And the big talk, coupled with the Brighton diamond and gay get-up 
 generally, had impressed the Honorary Secretary so favourably, that 
 the Larkspur gentlemen resolved to secure Mr. Romford, and, after 
 trying eighteen hundred a year unsuccessfully, Mr. Greenfield was at 
 length commissioned to close for the two thousand a year, the name of 
 Romford tickling the subscribers' fancies just as Mr. Facey said he 
 tickled trouts when a boy. 
 
 And Facey chuckled at his own 'cuteness when he got the despatch 
 announcing their acceptance of his offer, and said the Romford star 
 was clearly on the ascendant. 
 
 CHAPTEK XXII. 
 
 TTJIIXIXG OVEE A KEW LEAF. 
 
 "When it became known that such a swell as the Turbot-on-its- 
 tuil had taken the Larkspur country, he was beset by people with 
 large places offering him their houses, at more or less remunerative 
 prices. "Nothing for nothing," is the motto now-a-days. One gentle- 
 man was going to Naples ; another to Rome ; a third wanted to make 
 a tour in the East ; a fourth in the West ; and they would have no 
 objection to letting their houses and gardens to a careful party without 
 any children, and one who would not interfere with the game. The 
 game was to be held sacred. But for this, Facey would have had nc 
 difficulty in taking a place, and paying the rent out of bis gun. 
 
TURNING OVER A NEW LEAF. 89 
 
 The course of his inquiries, however, made him. acquainted with the 
 fact that Beldon Hall, the beautiful scat of Lord Viscount Lovetin, 
 on the south-east of his country, was vacant, and had been so for 
 some time, — a circumstance that generally has a mitigating influence 
 on the expected rent. In this case it had a considerable influence; 
 for his lordship had had so many cruel disappointments and vexations 
 about letting it, that he was almost heart-broken in consequence. Not 
 that the Viscount was poor — far from it — but this was the thorn in 
 his side, — the one thing that made him miserable. Indeed, he had 
 much changed with the unexpected acquisition of his title from his 
 cousin, having been, when Jack Moneygull, of the Tom and Jerry 
 Huzzars, one of the j oiliest fellows under the sun, ready to back a 
 bill, bonnet a Bobby, do anything light and frolicsome ; but now, as 
 the Lord Viscount Lovetin, he had become the meanest, most morose, 
 penurious creature possible, always dreading expense and imposition, 
 sitting calculating interest by the clock. He had shut up Beldon 
 Hall and retired to the Continent, where he lived au troisieme, an 
 quatrieme, au cinquieme, — anywhere rather than at home, — never 
 spending a halfpenny he could help, and talking, as if he didn't 
 know where the next day's dinner was to come from. Then he 
 wanted to let Beldon Hall, and he didn't want to let it. When 
 it came to the point, he put so many restrictions and embargoes 
 upon the parties, that nobody would take it. His lordship wanted 
 the money, in fact, but did not want to give the tenants anything for 
 it. Mr. Challoner might have it, provided he wouldn't use the 
 drawing-room. Mr. Coverdale might have it, provided he wouldn't 
 use the dining-room. Mrs. Emmerson and his lordship quarrelled 
 about the cut pile carpet in the music-room. He would have it put 
 away, while she insisted upon keeping it down. So they separated, 
 after consuming an immensity of paper, for they were both most 
 voluminous letter-writers. And half-a-dozen other negotiations had 
 gone off on similar quibbles, until the place was regularly blown. 
 Nobody would look at it. People said it wasn't to let. 
 
 Mr. Romford, finding this, wrote to his lordship, saying that he 
 had taken the Larkspur country, and, hearing that Beldon Hall 
 was empty, he would be glad to know if his lordship would have 
 any objection to letting it to him, adding that he would take great 
 care of the furniture and everything belonging to it, and of course 
 he sealed the letter with the proper Turbot-on-its-tail seal. Now 
 it so happened that Lord Lovetin had been one of the " gilded 
 youth of England " along with the right or other Mr. Romford at 
 Eton, and though they had never been particularly intimate, yet his 
 
90 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 lordship perfectly remembered Frank Bomford, and moreover had had 
 his memory constantly refreshed by reading the meets of his hounds in 
 the papers ; and, hope deferred having long made his lordship's heart 
 sick, he jumped at the offer, and named a much less rent than he had 
 ever asked before. And Facey quickly concluded a bargain, which 
 ■was only mentioned to Mr. Lonnergan, the agent, when it came to 
 be ratified by directions from his lordship for giving Mr. Romford 
 possession. 
 
 Now Mr. Lonnergan was an imperious man, — one who had no 
 notion of divided dignity, or of an owner presuming to exercise any 
 control whatever over the property confided to his charge. There 
 could be no two Kings of Brentford with him ; and Mr. Lonnergan 
 being at best one of your " receive-the-rents, drink-the-landlord's- 
 health, and let-the-tenants-do-as-they-like" order, he was doubly easy 
 and indifferent with regard to the letting of Beldon Hall, just exe- 
 cuting his lordship's orders, and nothing more, — telling Mrs. Mustard, 
 the dirty housekeeper, that the place was let, but saying, with a 
 significant snort and a chuck of his great double-chin, he " didn't 
 know who to, or anything at all about it, so she needn't bother him, 
 his lordship having thought proper to manage the matter himself." 
 And Lonnergan inwardly hoped that his noble master might burn his 
 fingers by the transaction. Indeed, he half thought of turning his 
 lordship off for the offence. 
 
 So, one bright winter's afternoon, a sort of social resurrection seemed 
 to take place at the long -deserted mansion of Beldon Hall, in the shape 
 of smoke rising from the various stacks of chimneys, to the surprise of 
 the passers-by along the Horton and Kingswood road, and the astonish- 
 ment of the country round about. " What's up now? " was the 
 general inquiry. " Is his lordship cooniin' home? " demanded the men. 
 " Has he gotten a wife ? " asked the women. Proudlock the gigantic 
 keeper strutted consequentially with the all-important secret — almost 
 too large for his capacious chest to contain. 
 
 The great Mr. Romford teas coming ! 
 
 What a man Proudlock made him out to be ! Wore silver boots on 
 week days, and gold on a Sunday. 
 
CHAPTEK XXIII. 
 
 LUCY BAMBOOZLES THE HASTEK. 
 
 Swig and Chowey being at length restored to convalescence, if not to 
 their pristine beauty — sundry strips of adhesive plaster still remaining 
 on their weather-beaten faces — Mr. Romford thought that Lucy might 
 as well return to her scenes in the circle at Islington as waste her time 
 any longer at the " "West-end Swell." To this end, therefore, he mag- 
 nificently presented her with a five-pound note and her fare, saying he 
 would be glad to see her again some other day. Rut Lucy, having 
 again tasted the sweets of country life, was not to be so easily disposed 
 of as friend Facey supposed, and kept loitering on at the "West-end 
 Swell; " — where, however, we are bound to say she conducted herself 
 in a most exemplary manner. Soapey himself could not have taken 
 exception to her conduct. The fact was she had got fond of the hounds 
 and the horses, and would like if she could to blend her fortune with 
 theirs. Rut Eacey didn't favour the design; he felt that he was on 
 his preferment, and that such an appendage to his hounds might injure 
 his prospects. In vain she expatiated on the delights of the chase, 
 on the pleasures of leading the field, of cutting down Newton 
 and Ribbing. In vain she hinted that Swig and Chowey would 
 be better for a little more looking after, that having a whipper 
 in in reserve [meaning herself,] would have a beneficial effect in keep- 
 ing them in order. Facey was proof against all her allurements, 
 though he could not but admit that the last argument had a good deal 
 of weight in it. In was a convenience, he admitted, to have some one 
 in reserve. That opinion, however, he kept to himself. At length 
 Lucy touched a chord that vibrated more forcibly still — it was a direct 
 appeal to his pocket — Didn't he think it would assist his sales to have 
 a lady to show off his horses ? A woman could hardly object to a horse 
 that another had rode, and a man would be laughed to scorn who did. 
 
 Pacey was struck with the argument. That £80 had excited his 
 cupidity and made him wish for more. He thought it might be very 
 easily got. A very little riding of the horse by Lucy would do to 
 establish his name for perfect temper and docility — perfect manners, 
 as the advertisers say. 
 
92 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 The severity of the conflict now passing in his mind was evinced by 
 the number of samples he culled from his chin and rejected without 
 examination. He ran the matter quickly through his mind — the profit, 
 the loss, the risk, and so on. 
 
 " ~Ho, it won't do," at length said he ; " the world is censorious, and 
 we should only get into a scrape." Facey felt the importance of now 
 making hay while the sun shone — viz., getting an heiress, if he could. 
 He must start fair at all events. 
 
 But Lucy was a good coaxer, and combated his objections with 
 great adroitness. She ridiculed the idea of her presence being the 
 cause of the Heavyside rupture. It was all because they were jealous 
 of her riding. She might have added "looks," but she left that for 
 another to say — who, however, did not say it. 
 
 They then had a great discussion upon the feasibility of the thing — 
 the possibility of Lucy again living alone as she had done at the " West- 
 2nd Swell " without exciting curiosity; and it was decided by Mr. 
 Romford that she could not. Still her resources didn't fail her. 
 "Why shouldn't her mother come down and live with her and make 
 herself useful — she could graft stockings there with her quite as well 
 as in Hart Street. 
 
 "Humph /" growled Facey, appealing again to his beard. "Don't 
 see what good that would do," at length observed he, after a long 
 pause, fearing, amongst other things, that he might have to pay for 
 the quarters. " If your mother was to coom, she'd better coom to 
 the Hall, where there's plenty of room," observed he. 
 
 "And why not ! " exclaimed Lucy. "I'm sure she'd be most happy." 
 
 "Then folke would say, 'Who the deuce are these people he's got 
 with him ? ' " replied Facey. 
 
 " Say I'm your sister," rejoined Lucy. 
 
 " Hoot ! we're not a bit alike," growled he. 
 
 " Half-sister, or sister-in-law, then," said Lucy, anxious to accom- 
 modate matters. 
 
 Still Facey was afraid. 
 
 She then suggested some complicated state of relationship arising 
 out of an imaginary double marriage of her mother that would cure all 
 defects of looks and family connection, and argued it so scientifically, 
 that she completely bamboozled our Master. He could neither com- 
 prehend nor confute her. And the lady, as usual, got her way. After 
 a great deal of doubt and controversj r , it was at length arranged that 
 Lucy should accompany Mr. Eomford to Beldon Hall, and that her 
 " moother," Mrs. Glitters, who will hereafter be known by the name 
 of Sidney Benson — Mrs. Sidney Benson — should come down to keep 
 
INDEPENDENT JIMMt. 93 
 
 her company, on the express understanding that Mrs. Benson was to 
 make herself generally useful in the house, and Lucy out of doors : — 
 Facey strongly impressing upon Lucy that it was only an experiment 
 -which might or might not answer, hut that, under no circumstances, 
 could he have anything like riotous housekeeping — " sheep-chops" and 
 batter-puddings being Facey' s idea of luxurious living. It was also 
 further arranged that Lucy might pass as his half-sister — sister by 
 courtesy — assuming the name of Somerville, and passing as the widow 
 of an Indian officer. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 INDEPENDENT JIMilT. 
 
 TnE present is undoubtedly the age for furthering Romfordian 
 speculations, for dress has become so queer and eccentric, and all 
 people are put so much upon a par by the levelling influence of the 
 rail, that a versatile man may pass for almost anybody he likes — a 
 duke, a count, a viscount. Mr. Romford, however, was so satisfied 
 with the distinguished name of Romford, that he had no desire to be 
 taken for any one else ; indeed, he thought Romford was just about as 
 good a name as a man could have. If people chose to confound him 
 with his namesake, the other Mr. Romford, it was no business of his. 
 So, discarding the detested name of Gilroy on leaving the " West-End 
 Swell" at Minshull Yernon, he directed his packages, " Francis Rom- 
 ford, Esquire," only; but then he added, "At the Lord Viscount. 
 Lovetin's, Beldon Hall, Doubleimnpshire," which made them very 
 commanding, and procured him great attention. They were not 
 numerous, neither were Lucy's, but things are so procurable all the 
 world over, that there is no occasion to travel about with any great 
 stock. Moreover, Lucy — we beg pardon, Mrs. Somerville — on whom 
 of course devolved the burthen of display, meant to work the Turbot- 
 on-its-tail seal upon the London milliners as soon as she got established 
 at Beldon Hall. 
 
 Being now aware of the importance of first impressions, Facey 
 sent his own and his men's measures up to the celebrated Mr. Tick, 
 the tailor in Civil Row (whose aptitude for dressing sportsmen is so 
 universally appreciated), in order that they might not appear in the 
 disreputable-looking garments they had been accustomed to wear with 
 
94 mr. facey romford's houkds. 
 
 the now discarded Heavj'side hounds. And he also communicated 
 fully with Mr. Goodhearted Green, urging him to send down a sup- 
 ply of horses — good, bad, or indifferent — as quick as he could, 
 adding, that if Goodheart came with them himself, he would put him 
 up and find wear and tear for his teeth. 
 
 And all things being prepared for a start, and Facey having taken 
 a parting glass with Toby Trotter over-night, rose with the sun the 
 next morning, and left Minshull Yernon, with hounds, horses, servants, 
 Lucy, and all, much to the regret of Mrs. Lockwood, the genial land- 
 lady of the "West-end Swell." 
 
 The unwonted freight commanded great attention on the line. The 
 various station-masters presented themselves respectfully at the car- 
 riage-door ; the curious of each place peered in at the window; and 
 the bustling guard, as he hurried along the platforms, kept replying 
 "Mr. Eomford — Mr. Romford," to the numerous inquiries ""Who it 
 was ? " So our travellers passed from line to line till they got to the 
 Cross-street station at Howland Hill, where they ought to have 
 changed carriages, but here a director happening to be on the plat- 
 form, and hearing who it was, came forward, bowing and scraping, 
 and begging that Mr. Romford and the lady would not think of dis- 
 turbing themselves, for the carriage they were in should go on to their 
 utmost destination. Thus they proceeded, with great dignity and 
 ease, laughing at the fools who thus worshipped them. 
 
 At length, after a long pace-slackening glide, the train stopped 
 before a sort of Swiss cottage, and a large black and white board 
 in the centre announced "FinriELD Station." The porters then 
 began running along the line of carriages, exclaiming, " Field ! — 
 Field! — Fifield Station! Change here for Shenstone, Comb, and 
 Danby ! Change here for Shenston, Comb, and Danby ! " 
 
 Mr. Romford having let the train fairly subside, then lowered his 
 wiv.dow, and called authoritatively to the head-porter to open the 
 door. The mandate being quickly obeyed, our master descended, with 
 becoming caution and dignity, and then proceeded to hand out Lucy, 
 the eyes and necks of the remaining passengers being strained to get 
 a sight of the lady. " Very pretty," the men said she was. "Mid- 
 dling," said the ladies. With a clank of the coupling chains, off 
 went the last joints of the tail containing Mr. Romford's cargo; the 
 hounds raised a melodious cry, and the now lightened engine presently 
 snorted, and then shot away with the rest of the train. 
 
 " Tickets! — Tickets, if you please," was then the order of the day; 
 and tickets Mr. Romford delivered up, — tickets for himself and Mrs. 
 Somcrville, — tickets for Swig and Chowey, — also for Bob Short, who 
 
INDEPENDENT JIMMY. 95 
 
 bad replied to Facey's advertisement for a " strong persevering man, 
 to clean horses," — and voluminous documents for the hounds and stud. 
 The "strong persevering man" being a teetotaller, Pacey now put 
 Swig and Chowey under his charge, while he escorted his sister — 
 Mrs. Somerville — to her destination. 
 
 It must be a poor spiritless place that does not sport a " bus;" and . 
 though none of the three old grey -roofed villages — or " toons," as the 
 natives called them — viz., Necton, Lingford, or Heathercy Clough, wero 
 important enough to keep one themselves, yet, by clubbing together, they 
 not only had a bus, but also a nondescript vehicle and pair that might 
 be engaged by those who objected to making the triangular tour of the 
 " toons " by the bus. Both vehicles belonged to the same man, one Petei 
 Cross, of all three places, Peter being a publican at one, a provision- 
 merchant at another, and paper-hanger at a third. Peter and his man, 
 Jimmy Jones, or Independent Jimmy as he was generally called, drove 
 the bus and the " chay " by turns ; and on the day of the great Mr. 
 Romford's arrival, Peter had the bus, and Jimmy the "chay." Peter, 
 who did the politeness — an article that Jimmy was rather deficient in 
 — seeing who they had got to convey, strongly recommended the 
 " chay " to our friends, observing that they would get to Beldon Hall 
 in half the time that they would by the bus ; and Peter even yielded 
 the pas to the " chay," keeping all the bus passengers waiting while 
 he helped Jimmy to load and shove Lucy into the queer little cock- 
 boat of a cai'riage, all curtains, slides, and glides, that no one can 
 ever work in a shower until he is wet through. 
 
 Having, however, little to do with our " Mathews-at-Home " of a 
 master, we will proceed to introduce the man, who is a more impor- 
 tant personage in our story. Independent Jimmy was well called 
 Independent Jimmy, for he had a most independent way of his own : 
 he did not seem to care a copper for any one. If a passenger tipped 
 him, he took it ; if he didn't tip him, he was equally civil without : 
 he did not seem to care which way it was. Sometimes he sported a 
 coat, and sometimes he didn't ; and the more likely the weather was 
 for wearing one, the more unlikely Jimmy was to have it on. He 
 never said Sir, or Ma'am, or Miss, or used any of the circumlocutory 
 forms of address, but just blurted out, "Noo then!" "Get oop ! " 
 " Get doon ! " " Get in ! " " Get oot ! " and shoved his passengers about 
 like so many sheep. He was a big, burly, strongly-built, blunt Northum- 
 brian, with the strength of a Saj-ers, and the digestion of an ostrich. A 
 man might as well pound at a sack of beans as at Jimmy. His 
 healthy cheek almost outvied the bloom of his blue-glass -buttoned 
 scarlet plush vest. He would take a trunk away from a tottering 
 
96 mr. pacey romford's hounds. 
 
 footman, and chuck it into its place like a quoit. He had heen all his 
 life among horses, either as an ostler, a helper, a post-boy, a bus- 
 man, or a cab-driver, vacillating about the country, changing from the 
 "Rose and Crown" at Heckworth to the " Leopard " at Bucknel, and 
 from the " Bunch of Grapes " at Haywood to the "Hat and Feathers" 
 at Heatherey Clough. Thus he had a very general acquaintance, and 
 could have written or dictated a capital guide-book, giving as well an 
 account of all the inns and places of public entertainment, as of all the 
 private bouses, with their respective staffs of servants, and the strength 
 of each of their taps. Jimmy was free of them all, — of all at least 
 that gave anything away. There was a sort of an independence in his 
 very gait, for his right leg gave a free-and-easy shake, as if it did not 
 care a copper for the other. But we will let him parade himself as 
 he goes. 
 
 We are now at the back of the Firfield Station, with the luggage 
 on, and Lucy in, what the wags called the melon -frame. The day 
 being fine, and Facey, not at all the man to submit to the impurities of 
 a shut cab, as he called a close carriage, now intimated, by a jerk of his 
 head and a turn of his wrist, that Jimmy might shut the carriage-door, 
 which being done, Facey and he mounted the box on alternate sides, 
 and Jimmy having tendered Facey half his old drab frieze over-coat to 
 sit upon, clutched the hard weather-bleached reins, and with a jog and 
 jerk and a click of his tongue, moved the old leg- weary screws slowly 
 away out of the whinstone-covered ring at the back of the Firfield 
 Swiss cottage station. The grinding noise subsiding as they got upon 
 the well-kept turnpike road beyond, the two old nags — a bay and a 
 chestnut — having first laid their heads together as if in consultation, 
 seemed to agree that a voluntary trot might save them a rib-roasting, 
 so, with wonderful unanimity, they both began to potter along, while 
 Facey sat contemplating their dreary, leg- weary action, and Jimmy 
 sat wondering what Facey thought of them. 
 
 " Not a bad-shaped nag, that old white-legged chestnut? " at length 
 observed Romford. 
 
 " Good un, — varry," said Jimmy, giving the horse an approving rub 
 in the ribs with the crop of his pig-driver-like whip. 
 
 " Where did you get him, now ? " asked Romford. 
 
 " "Wor maister bought him — bought him of Hazey — second -ha^d 
 Neddy, as ar call him," said Jimmy. 
 
 " "What Hazey — the man who keeps the Hard and Sharp hounds? " 
 asked our hero. 
 
 " Keeps the hunds ! " ejaculated Jimmy ; " the hunds more like 
 keep him, ar should say." 
 
INDEPENDENT JIMMY, 97 
 
 •'•'"Well, but we mean the same man," rejoined Facey. 
 
 " Same man," assented Jimmy; " same man. Arn't two such men 
 i' the world." 
 
 "Mean man, is he?" asked Romford. 
 
 " Mean man," assented Jimmy ; " man that would do out ; quite a 
 wonderful sort of man for meanness." 
 
 " But he's rich, isn't he ? " asked Romford. 
 
 "Rich, ay; rich enough. But what signifies his riches; does 
 things that a beggar would be sham'd on. A but hear him buy a hus 
 and sell a hus is quite a theatre performance : a man wadint know that 
 he was taikin' 'boot the same animal. Ar arlways says that nobody 
 knows what doonright cliver lein (lying) really is who hasn't heard 
 Hazey. A, he's a reglar imposition," said Jimmy, with a shake of his 
 head and a chuck of the coupling reins, as if to make his horses get 
 away from the thoughts of him. 
 
 "You wouldn't give much for him, I 'spose," observed Romford, 
 holding Jimmy on to the line of scent notwithstanding. 
 
 " Moch, no ! " replied Jimmy. " Why, he's abun twenty years aid, 
 and been doon iver se mony times — doon with the butler, doon with 
 the coachman, doon with the gardener, doon with ivirybody a'morst." 
 
 A fi' -pun-note, p'raps," suggested Facey. 
 
 Fi' -pun-note ! " retorted Jimmy, ironically, adding, "No sink; we 
 get twe sich as him for that money." 
 
 "The deuce you do !" observed Mr. Romford, laughing. 
 
 ""We just gav three-and-thorty shillin' for him," continued Jimmy, 
 unburthening his mind without further circumlocution. " Aid Hazey 
 wanted twe pund, but wor aid maister's just as keen and as hard 
 bitten as he is, and began by bidding him thorty shillin', and efter 
 'boot six weeks' hard barginin', he got him for three-and-thorty." 
 
 " Cheap enough," said Mr. Romford, eyeing his honest pulling. 
 
 " Why, he's not iv'rybody's money, you see," replied Jimmy. 
 "He's o'er leet for the 'bus, or o'er wake for the ploo, and if he 
 couldn't carry the lad wi' the letters, what could Hazey de wi' im ? 
 Sink ar think he did varry weal to get three-and-thorty shillin' for 
 him," continued Jimmy, rubbing the old horse again on the ribs with 
 the crop of his whip to coax him along. 
 
 The fall of the road favouring a trot, Jimmy then bowled along for 
 some half-mile in silence. Mr. Romford at length broke it. 
 
 "Who have we here ?" now asked he, as a spacious stone mansion 
 with a couple of crest-decorated gates and lodges suddenly loomed 
 upon them. 
 
 "Oh, this be Lees — Dalbury Lees. Willy Watkins — Squire 
 
98 MB. FACEY KOMFOED S HOUNDS. 
 
 Watliins lives there," replied Independent Jimmy, with a twirl of his 
 whip and a chuck of his chin, as if he did not think much of him. 
 
 " Does he hunt ? " asked Romford. 
 
 " Hont! no — shut noither," replied Jimmy. 
 
 " What does he do, then? " asked Pacey. 
 
 " Nout. Brush his hair mainly ar should say," replied Jimmy. 
 " He whiles put on a red coat, but it's only for show, ar should say. 
 
 " Sink," said he, half to himself and half to Romford, " but I de 
 think they are the biggest feuls in arl the country. Leuk, noo," said 
 he, " at them there lodges with the red and gould lion crests and 
 grand fancy gates, just as if they belanged to a duke. Arm dashed 
 but that chap was a painter and glazier, or somethin' of that sort only 
 t'other day," continued he, flanking the bay, as if to get past the 
 obnoxious gates as fast as he could." 
 
 " Painter and glazier," repeated Mr. Romford, "he must have had 
 a good trade." 
 
 " No, he hadn't," replied Jimmy, " a varry bad un — at least he 
 couldn't make nout on't, so he went to Horsetria, ye see, where they 
 dig out the gould." 
 
 •'Australia, p'raps," submitted Mr. Romford, whose friend, Soapey 
 Sponge, was now there. 
 
 "Ay, Horsetrilia — that's the varry name of the place," replied 
 Jimmy — "Horsetrilia. "Well, there he dug a mint o' money, and 
 came home with a grand set-up wife and sich a conceited darter, ar 
 don't think ar ever seed sich a sarcy pair, and took this place of old 
 Squire Dobbindale, puttin' oop these grand crests at the gates and 
 gatherin' all the lazy scamps o' sarvants i' the coountry. They'll take 
 anything that they say has lived with a lord. As to the darter," con- 
 tinued Jimmy, reverting to her, " she's just the impittantest, sarciest 
 gal i' the world, arlways tossin' aboot and givin' gob. Noo," there's 
 the Ladies Rosebud, Lord Flowerdew's darters, when ar gans to the 
 Castle, for any body there, they speak quite civil and plizant ; ' Good 
 morning, Jimmy.' ' How do ye do, Jimmy? hoo are arl the little 
 Jimmys?' (for ar ha' thorteen on 'em," added Jimmy parenthetically), 
 and so on, while this sarcy thing taks had of her stickin'-out claes, 
 and cries 'Now, man! get out of the way, man; see, man! look, 
 man ! mind, man ! ' just as if I were a twoad. Sink, I'd skelp her 
 ivry other day gin she were mine;" and thereupon Jimmy gave 
 Hazey's horse some scientific cuts, just as if he were dealing them out 
 to Miss Watkins. 
 
 " Sink, but ar often wonders," continued Jimmy, now looking down 
 at his lack-lustre shoes, now up at the firmament; " sink, but ar often 
 
INDEPENDENT JIMMY. 99 
 
 wonders who those sort o' fondies think they impose upon. It can't 
 he the likes o' me," continued he, "for we know all about them; it 
 can't be the gentlefolks, for they'll ha' nout to say te them; it mun 
 just be their am silly sels," at length added he, solving the problem 
 as he proceeded. 
 
 They then passed on within sight of several other country houses, 
 of more or less pretensions, of all of whose inmates Jimmy discoursed 
 
 in terms of easy familiarity, d g one, praising another, scouting a 
 
 third. It is always well for country gentlemen to keep in with the 
 drivers of public vehicles past their places. Being abused — say twice 
 a day — every day of the year comes to a good deal of abuse in the 
 course of a twelvemonth. To-day, for instance, Mr. Romford made 
 the acquaintance of the most distinguished characters in our story, all 
 ihrough a chance journey with Independent Jimmy. 
 
 And Jimmy had his favourites as well as his foes. 
 
 "!Nbo this be a genleman comin'," said he, as a sporting-like man 
 in leather leggings and a shooting-jacket came tit-tup-ing along on his 
 pony; " though he has neither powdered footmen nor piebald gates, 
 Storlin [Sterling] — Stanley Storlin of Roseniount." 
 
 " How are you, Jimmy? " nodded the Squire, as he now came up. 
 
 "How are you ?" nodded Jimmy, as he passed along. 
 
 " Sink, now, if that had been Hazey, or Willey, or any o' them liko 
 chaps, they'd ha taken ne mair notice on me than if arc! been a coo," 
 observed Jimmy, giving Hazey's old horse another refresher, adding,— 
 "Arm dashed, but ard like to hev the lickin' o' some o' them chaps," 
 flourishing his whip as if he would give them it "well, 
 
CHAPTER XXV, 
 
 BELDON HALL, 
 
 A stjddes turn of the road to the right now brought our travellers 
 m full sight of a noble-looking mansion, standing open, but not 
 exposed, in a rich, well-wooded park, sloping gently down to a broad,, 
 shining river, whose sparkling reaches ran parallel with the road 
 along which they were passing. It was, indeed, a beautiful scene : 
 beautiful even in the sterility of winter, lovely in the rich leafy 
 honours of a glowing, luxuriant summer. 
 
 " That be your shop, now," said Independent Jimmy, nodding his 
 head, and pointing towards the commanding edifice with his clumsy 
 whip, adding, as he stared at it: " sink, but it's lang sin' ar seed them 
 ehimlies smokin' i' that way." 
 
 Facey sat in mute astonishment, contemplating its vast propor- 
 tions, which still kept increasing as they proceeded, — now the stables 
 and the gardens, now the dairy, now the dove-cote, appearing pano- 
 rama-like, as they proceeded. He had, indeed, got a large house — a 
 very large house ; but there was no occasion to occupy it all. 
 
 They now arrived at the massive Gothic lodges, slightly disfigured 
 by the appearance of sundry clay pipes, gingerbread horses, and glasses 
 of lollypops in the windows, all of which would have been removed, 
 as tbey always were for Mr. Lonnergan's periodical visits, had Mr. 
 Romford come a little later. As it was, our friends took the natives 
 rather by surprise, the young lady who at length came to open the 
 gates making her appearance with one red stocking on and the other 
 off, besides being otherwise en deshabille. 
 
 " Jip ! " cried Jimmy, as she at length got the iron gates open : and 
 passing through, he took the old horses by the heads, and began to 
 bustle and prepare them for the circuitous ascent of the hill to the 
 house. " Sink, ar I mind when there wasn't sic a thing as a weed to 
 be seen on this road," observed Jimmy, now contemplating its grass- 
 grown dimensions. "That was in the ould lord's time," added he; 
 " not much weedin' done here now." 
 
 Lucy, meanwhile, having been aroused by the stoppage at the gates, 
 opened a melon-frame window, and proceeded to reconnoitre the place 
 
BELDON" HALL. 101 
 
 as successive winds of the road presented the grand house in a variety 
 of views, south, east, and west. She was very much pleased with all 
 Bhe saw, and felt quite equal to the occasion. JSTot so friend Romford, 
 who dreaded the expense of a large place. " A house is a consuming 
 animal," he always said. He liked the simplicity of the Dog and 
 Partridge Inn, and the easy independence of the " West-end Swell." 
 However, he was in for it, and must brazen it out. He wasn't easily 
 cowed. 
 
 The ascent being at length gained, a good piece of trotting ground 
 presently brought the travellers up with a swing under the wood-paved 
 portico of the front-door. They were now at battlemented Beldon Hall, 
 with its deep bay windows divided by stone mullions and transoms, 
 and other baronial evidences of strength. Independent Jimmy, having 
 chucked the reins on the horses' backs, in apparent^ well-founded 
 confidence that they wouldn't run away, then "got doon," and pro- 
 ceeded to arouse the long-dormant house with a pull at the conspicuous 
 brass-handled bell knob. It pealed as if it would never cease, and 
 echo seemingly took pleasure to repeat the sound. It was long since 
 echo had had any such recreation. 
 
 Before the noise ceased, one side of the folding-doors opened, dis- 
 closing the tawdry person of the before-mentioned Mrs. Mustard, now 
 struggling hard to open the other side, so as to let the great man enter 
 in proper form. Mrs. Mustard was rather surprised to see a lady in 
 the vehicle, instead of only a gentleman, as she expected. 
 
 "All right!" said Romford, seeing her looks. "All right! It's 
 only my sister." 
 
 So saying, Pacey handed Lucy out of the carriage, and bid her go 
 into the house and fend for herself. 
 
 " I'm sorry I didn't know the lady was coming," observed Mrs. 
 Mustard, dropping a curtsy as she smoothed down her faded brown 
 silk gown ; " or I would have had the drawing-room ready." 
 
 "Oh, hang the drawing-room," replied Pacey. "Do very well 
 without it — do very well without it." 
 
 "But his lordship would have wished you to find everything com- 
 fortable and proper," replied Mrs. Mustard. 
 
 " Oh, proper enough," replied Facey, taking out the cloaks. "Proper 
 enough. I'll tell you what to do. You get her a bedroom as near 
 yours as you can; for she hasn't brought her maid, and, moreover, is 
 afraid of bogies and such-like things," adding, "her moother's coomin* 
 to-morrow." 
 
 " Certainly," replied Mrs. Mustard. " Certainly— she can have the 
 pink room, next door to mine, if you like." 
 
102 mr. facey romford's hounds. 
 
 " That'll do," said Romford. " That'll do. Now about the luggage. 
 Chuck down the traps," continued he, addressing himself to Jimmy. 
 
 These were soon on the ground — gun-case, fishing-rod, landing-net, 
 and all. Jimmy, again clutching the reins, reascended the throne, and 
 drove off without any dallying, or loitering, cr inquiring — railway- 
 porter-like — if Facey had got this or that, in order to draw out the 
 reluctant shilling. As Jimmy returned he met Squire Sterling again, 
 who hailed him to stop. 
 
 " Who had 3-ou in your melon-frame just now ?" asked he. 
 
 " Oh, it was Mr. What's-his-nanie, the newmaister," replied Jimmy. 
 
 "The deuce it was!" exclaimed Mr. Sterling, wishing he had 
 taken a better look. " Well, what sort of a chap is he ? " 
 
 " Seems well enough," replied Jimmy. " Kbt a man of much 
 blandishment, ar should say," added he, driving on. 
 
 Mr. Romford, having seen Jimmy off, then walked into the house as 
 if it was his own. The spacious entrance-hall showed it was a capital 
 place, replete with comfort and every modern luxury. Pictures, vases, 
 statues, busts, all betokening wealth and taste. Some people would 
 have felt rather abashed at getting into such a place under the influence 
 of a spurious broad seal, but friend Facey didn't look at it in that 
 light. A master of hounds was a great man, and his lordship evidently 
 wished to treat him as such. So he took possession with an air of 
 confident ownership. 
 
 Lucy had not been long in the place ere she had explored every hole 
 and corner — from the skylights to the scullery, wash-house, knife- 
 house, laundry, larder, and all; and had informed Mrs. Mustard as 
 much of her history as she wished to have promulgated — viz., that she 
 was the widow of an Indian officer, and had come to stay with her 
 brother, the new master of the hounds, until he was comfortably settled 
 at Beldon Hall. And thougb Mrs. Mustard thought they were very 
 little alike, yet her own daughters, whom we shall presently introduce, 
 were very little alike either ; and she felt it was no business of hers 
 to make any observations. So Mrs. Somerville and she proceeded from 
 apartment to apartment, the grandeur increasing as they progressed, 
 until the whole culminated in the noble put-away drawing-room, with 
 its gilded ceiling and brown-holland balloons containing the richly 
 cut-glass chandeliers. 
 
 Lucy was fired with a noble ambition, and thought what a glorious 
 sight it would be to see herself seated on an ottoman — feathered, 
 flounced, with a broad-laced kerchief in her gloved hand, arrayed for 
 the reception of company. 
 
 "Satin damask," now observed Mrs. Mustard, lifting up the cornei 
 

. 
 
MRS. MUSTARD'S MISCELLANY. 103 
 
 of a cotton print chair-cover, and showing the shining substratum of 
 pink, adding, "I'd have had the room ready if I'd known you'd been 
 coming, mum." 
 
 And a thought struck Lucy, that as she had come she might as well 
 have it ; so, after casting a longing eye at the lofty muslin'd mirrors, 
 resting on their pure white marble slabs, she said — ■ 
 
 " I s'pose it could be got ready, if wanted ? " 
 
 "Certainly, mum, certainly," replied Mrs. Mustard, dropping a 
 curtsy, wondering where all the fine-figure footmen were to come 
 from if it was used. 
 
 And Lucy's ambition rose as she saw the opportunity of gratifying 
 it. What a change from the cigar shop in Jermyn Street, Haymarket ! 
 and the "West-end Swell" at Minshull Vernon! 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 MRS. MUSTARD'S MISCELLANY. 
 
 Mrs. Mustard was one of the pauperised order of housekeepers, 
 who veer between temporary places and turnpike-gates. No one kept 
 Mrs. Mustard long. She was only a job ; job nurse, job cook, job 
 anything. The regular turnpike people were shy of employing her, 
 she recpiired so much watching ; while road trustees would as soon 
 have thrown the gates open altogether, as appointed Mrs. Mustard to 
 collect the money for them. Her great recommendation to Lord 
 Lovetin's place was that she was to be had very cheap; and his poor 
 lordship having been so dreadfully depressed by the repeated failures 
 to let Beldon Hall, found it absolutely necessary to reduce the expen- 
 diture upon the place to the lowest sum possible. So the housekeeper's 
 wages had gradually come down, and down, and down, under suc- 
 cessive administrations, until they at length fell to Mrs. Mustard's 
 mark — six shillings a week, which, however, was a shilling a week 
 more than she got for keeping the Grabley side bar on the Shaverdale 
 road. To be sure, she was allowed " garden stuff," which, by a liberal 
 construction of the term, was held to include milk, fruit, and fresh- 
 water fish. The ponds at Beldon Hall were well stocked. It was 
 also said that she kept a pig on the sly in the pigeon-house. The 
 great advantage of the place to her, however, was that it enabled her 
 to harbour her three dashing daughters, Bridget, Agatha, and Kuth, 
 
104 mr. facey eomford's hounds. 
 
 when any of them came dribbling home from place, which one or other 
 of them did every month, or oftener, their services being as little 
 appreciated as those of their worthy mother. Mrs. Mustard, now 
 about fifty-five years of age, had been a beauty in her day, and her 
 daughters, though exceedingly unlike each other, were handsome, 
 showy, dressy girls, though, like the mother, so slovenly and slatternly 
 when not en grand, costume, as to have earned for themselves the 
 sobriquet of the Dirties, Mrs. Mustard herself being called Dirty 
 No. 1 ; Miss Bridget Mustard, Dirty No. 2 ; Miss Agatha, Dirty No. 3 ; 
 while Ruth, the youngest and prettiest of the whole, and who has 
 more to do with our story than her sisters, was designated Dirtiest of 
 the Dirty. 
 
 Ruth was very pretty, and just turned of twenty ; tall, slim, and 
 elegant, with light brown hair, large languishing blue eyes, fringed 
 with the longest of lashes, pearly teeth, beautiful hands and feet, and 
 a soft musical voice, with gentle and subdued manners — a being 
 lapable of being wrought into a very beautiful creature. Unfortu- 
 nately, however, she had a drawback besides her untidiness, and that 
 rather a serious one — she was an incorrigible thief. She could not be 
 restrained from stealing. Gentlemen's places, farmers' places, pub- 
 licans' places, were all alike to Ruth ; she would have souvenirs from 
 each of them. Nor was she at all abashed at being caught. Her 
 mistress might turn the stolen goods out of her box before her face, 
 without eliciting a blush from Miss Ruth. Indeed, the chances were 
 she would say her mistress had put them there. On one occasion, 
 having got a month at Frownham Petty Sessions for stealing a silver 
 spoon from Farmer Cropton's, of Byfield, she declared, when she came 
 back from the House of Correction, that she had been at the sea-side 
 for the benefit of her health. 
 
 Now it so happened that all the Dirties were at home when the 
 Romfords — that is to say, Mr. Romford and Mrs. Somerville — arrived 
 at Bel don Hall, for Miss Bridget, a tall, stout, startling brunette, with 
 the blackest of hair and the brightest of eyes, had recently been dis- 
 charged from Farmer Roughfolds' of Loggan Hill, for leaving her cows 
 unmilked one morning while she went over to Casterton to get herself 
 photographed, and Miss Agatha had long been vacillating between the 
 duties of an occasional dressmaker and a barmaid, in the expectation 
 of the coming of a tall grenadier, who a gipsy had predicted would 
 marry her. Agatha was a beauty too, though of quite a different order 
 of beauty to that of her sisters, being of the medium height, and 
 plump, with a noble forehead, arched in matchless symmetry by its 
 own beautiful drapery of chestnut hair. Her complexion, we need 
 
MRS. MUSTARD'S MISCELLANY. 105 
 
 scarcely saj-, -was of the delicate pink of the wild-rose leaf, and her eyes 
 of the brightest, most searching hazel. The tall grenadier could hardly 
 have known what a beauty awaited him, or he would surely have come. 
 
 Then Mrs. Almond, the grocer's wife, at Henfield, had just paid 
 forfeit on Ruth, Dirtiest of the Dirty — rather than have so troublesome 
 a young lady in her establishment. All the three daughters were thus 
 at home, forming a complete party, but still a heavy tax on the six 
 shillings a week, for the girls spent all their earnings in dress and 
 decoration, gaudy bonnets, glass beads, and brass-eyed boots. It 
 was, therefore, an important point with Mrs. Mustard, Dirty No. 1, 
 to get some of them fastened on the Romfords if she could, and Mr. 
 Lonnergan's imperious conduct favoured the design. 
 
 Having, therefore, chaperoned Mrs. Somerville all round about the 
 house, and now brought her to a stand-still in the magnificent drawing- 
 room, she began sounding her on the important topic of servants, 
 asking where Mrs. Somerville would like her maid to sleep, and 
 how many beds Mrs. Mustard -should get ready for the rest of the 
 domestics. Now this question was rather a poser, for Lucy had never 
 had a maid, let alone an establishment of servants, having always 
 lived in lodgings, where the people of the house did everything for 
 her. But, being a woman of ready wit, she parried the question by 
 saying she really couldn't tell, so much depended upon her brother, 
 Mr. Romford, but she supposed they could get an occasional servant 
 gr two in the neighbourhood until they decided about bringing their 
 own. "Whereupon Mrs. Mustard exultingly replied, " Oh dear, there 
 could be no difficulty about that ; there was herself and her three 
 daughters, all of whom would be most happy to do anything in their 
 power; she " (Mrs. Mustard) " was not a professed cook, but she had 
 lived in some great families, nolle families, indeed she might say — 
 Mr. Boyston, of Boyston, amongst the number, and her daughters 
 were equal to all sorts of duties — indeed they were all quite finished 
 servants, and could undertake any sort of work, but p'raps Mrs. 
 Somerville would like to see them — if she would please to step into 
 the breakfast-room, where there was a fire, she would bring them up 
 to her," Mrs. Mustard leading the way to the indicated apartment. 
 This was a comfortable-sized room, some eighteen feet by twenty, with 
 a southern aspect, affording, with the aid of a fire, a much better 
 climate than Mrs. Somerville had been enjoying while making the 
 grand tour of the house. Moreover, it was not " put away," as the 
 rest of the house was, having been got ready for the great Mr. 
 Romford. And Mrs. Mustard having got Mrs. Somerville there, then 
 closed the mahogany door and went away on her errand. 
 
iOfi ME. FACEY KCLMFORD'S HOUNDS. 
 
 Having surveyed herself in a stately mirror over the richly-carved 
 
 Carrara marble mantel-piece, and compared notes by a second look in 
 
 a panelled one between the windows, she came to the conclusion that, 
 
 though she wanted a new bonnet, she was not looking far amiss, and 
 
 would make some little sensation in Doubleimupshire. With this 
 
 comfortable reflection she took a seat at the round table before the fire, 
 
 and helping herself to an illustrated copy of " Rogers's Poems," began 
 
 reading — 
 
 " Oh nr.uld my mind, unfolded in my page, 
 Enlighten climes, and mould a future age," 
 
 while her thoughts were wandering amongst all the bonnet-shops in 
 London. 
 
 Meanwhile Mrs. Mustard having made a rapid descent into the 
 lower regions for the kitchens were underground, found all her elegant 
 daughters clustered and anxious to hear the news, so much so indeed, 
 that they would hardly listen to her exhortations to get themselves 
 ready to go up stairs to see the lady. 
 
 Indeed, the command caused an evident disappointment, for they 
 thought Mr. Romford was a bachelor, and hoped accordingly. Mrs. 
 Mustard seeing this, rectified her error by announcing, "No! no; 
 he's not married ! She's only his sister ! but come quick, one of you ; 
 come up stairs, and see the lady." 
 
 Now it so happened that, upon this occasion, Dirtiest of the Dirty 
 was the cleanest of the three, having on an only three days' worn blue- 
 and-white striped print, with magenta-coloured stockings, and being 
 decidedly the least marketable of the three, Mrs. Mustard was glad to 
 show her first, so giving her uncapped head a rub over with the old 
 joint-stock hair-brush, she told her to pull her shoes up at the heel, 
 and follow her, and to mind curtsy and speak civil. As they ascended 
 the staircase together, she charged her to assent to all she (Mrs. 
 Mustard) said, and by no means to let out anything about the low 
 places she had been in, particularly to keep the sea-side visit quiet. 
 "With these and similar injunctions they reached the door of the room 
 that held the great lady, and, a respectful knock being answered by a 
 " Come in ! " the two entered, and curtsied to our fair friend. 
 
 " My daughter Ruth," said Mrs. Mustard, whereupon Dirtiest of the 
 Dirty curtsied again, and Mrs. Somerville began questioning her just 
 as the managers of theatres used to question her herself when she 
 sought an engagement. Dirty acquitted herself so well, that Lucy, 
 albeit no great admirer of her own sex — indeed she used to say that 
 the only thing that reconciled her to being a woman was that she could 
 not by any possibility have to marry one — was very much taken with 
 
MRS. MUSTARD'S MISCELLANY. 107 
 
 he". Dirty, from her own account, could do anything, — wash, sew, 
 darn, mend, get up fine linen, and all. Of course, when asked if sho 
 could dress hair, she replied " No, but she could learn." 
 
 Lucy then adroitly took hold of the hair-dressing deficiency to dis- 
 parage her other acquirements, observing, she was afraid she must 
 have her own maid down, when Mrs. Mustard, fearing she was going 
 to lose her market, asked Mrs. Somerville if she wouldn't be pleased 
 to take her daughter on trial, mother Mustard well knowing that 
 Dirtiest of the Dirty would soon make up for a little deficiency of 
 service if there was any money or jewellery left lying about. And 
 the trial system suiting Lucy best, after due deliberation and many 
 inquiries into Dirty' s middling morals, Lucy said, that as her stay at 
 Beldon Hall was very uncertain, and her maid was visiting a sick 
 mother in Somersetshire, she would just see what her daughter could 
 do, but that she would have to keep herself to herself, and be ex- 
 tremely neat and tidy in her person, not wearing flash or tawdry 
 dresses, or going gossiping about the country, or letting people come 
 to the Hall — adding, that if Ruth conducted herself properly, it might 
 be the means of getting her into a high situation. 
 
 And Mrs. Mustard, shark-like, having thus succeeded with one 
 daughter, then broached the subject of another, observing that she had 
 a daughter quite equal to the housemaid-work, but Mrs. Somerville, 
 who had been conning the matter over, while she was airing her eyes 
 with — 
 
 "0 could my mind, unfolded in my page," 
 
 put a peremptory veto upon that, observing that her mother was coming 
 next day, and that Mrs. Mustard and Euth would be quite equal to all 
 that was required for the present. She then told Euth to go and heat 
 a poker, and light a fire in her bed-room, whither, accompanied by old 
 Dirty, she then proceeded, walking through the stately hall and 
 corridors with great satisfaction. 
 
CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 MP.. PR0TTDL0CK, THE KEEPER. LORD LOXNERGAN AND HIS SON, 
 
 tfOlMOSTLY CALLED THE HONOURABLE LOVETIN LONNERGAN". 
 
 "While Mr. Romford's adopted sister, Mrs. Somerville, was thus 
 making the tour of the fine house, friend Facey, on his part, was at 
 work reconnoitring the out-of-door accommodation of the place. His 
 fine natural instinct soon led him to the stahles, partially concealed 
 though they were from the north front of the Hall by a line of magni- 
 ficent ground-sweeping cedars. These premises were quite in keeping 
 with the mansion, having been built by the same noble lord who 
 surmounted the old Hall with the dish-cover. Indeed some said it 
 was the apparent inequality of the increased house and the old 
 stables that made his lordship think it necessary to rebuild the latter 
 entirely, though the old stables were in reality a great, deal larger and 
 better than anything he himself wanted. There is often a laudable 
 desire among noblemen and gentlemen to make their places as complete 
 as they can for their successors, regardless of the selfish aphorism, that 
 " posterity has done no-thing for them." Be that, however, as it may, 
 friend Facey presently stood in the centre of a very magnificent pile 
 of building. He needed no cicerone to induct him into the arrange- 
 ments. There stood the stables forming three sides of a square, open 
 in front, with a lofty archway in the centre leading to the places of 
 deposit behind. On the right he read, as it were, the words " stables, 
 straw-house, hay-house," in the centre again the words " saddle- 
 room, harness-room, stables, and straw-house," while large folding- 
 doors on the left proclaimed an infinity of standing-room for carriages. 
 Above the whole line were granaries and apartments for servants. 
 
 " Y-a-ry good, v-a-ry good," ejaculated our friend, as with a stick- 
 propped chin he stood straddling, contemplating the edifice. " V-a-iy 
 good indeed," added he, as his little pig eyes had taken in the whole 
 arrangement. If it had but stood at Allington Banks or Greenhope, 
 he thought, it would have been the most convenient residence a master 
 of hounds could possibly have had ; might have reached every cover 
 in the country without lying out, that lying out being a terrible bug- 
 bear to Mr. Faeey, on account both of the expense and the irregular 
 
ME. PROUDLOCK, THE KEEPER. 109 
 
 habits of Chowey and Swig. However, Mr. Romford consoled himself 
 by thinking that his lordship would be very sly if he got any rent out 
 of him. He then proceeded to inspect the interior of the premises, 
 beginning of course on the right, so as to end at the less -interesting 
 portion of the building containing the coach-houses. "While thus 
 engaged, a foot-fall sounded behind, and looking round, Mr. Eomford 
 confronted the before-mentioned Mr. Proudlock, the keeper, a big 
 black-ej-ed, black-haired, bushy- whiskered man of some five-and-thirty 
 3*ears of age or so. There was no mistaking his calling : his billycock 
 hat, his baggy black velveteen coat, his lusty leggings, above all, his 
 half-insolent air, proclaimed what he was. Proudlock was a man 
 whose supposed strength and stature had procured him admission into 
 good places, but whose bad conduct had immediately lost him them 
 again, sometimes almost as soon as obtained. He stood six feet three, 
 stretchable into nearly four with his navvy-nailed boots and upright 
 bearing. He was large -chested, full-limbed, and broad generally, and, 
 having been drilled as a militiaman, had a very erect, imposing appear- 
 ance, just the sort of man to salute a coming party of shooters, or to 
 take the lead at a battue. 
 
 He was, however, such a mischievous, lying bully — always bach- 
 biting and getting his employers into hot water — that he came tumbling 
 down the ladder of servitude till he finally landed among the grand 
 body of poachers. 
 
 His size, however, which was a recommendation as a keeper, was a 
 disadvantage to him here, for he could be easily identified, and that 
 at a great distance, and moreover the exertion was more than he 
 Weed; so, after two or three unsatisfactory appearances at petty 
 sessions, he relinquished the trigger for a time, and took to showing 
 himself as a giant, in conjunction with the celebrated Pig- faced Lady ; 
 but the confinement of the caravan was too great for him, and, the 
 engagement having terminated, he again sought the freedom of the 
 fields. 
 
 He was then to be had very cheap, — twelve shillings a week, a 
 house and coals, with two couple of rabbits, being all he asked ; and 
 that being within the scope of Lord Lovetin's means, especially as 
 just at the time he had every expectation of Mr. Emmerson taking 
 Peldon Hall, whereby he would have got rid of an immense indoor 
 expense, after very mature consideration he allowed Mr. Lonnergan 
 to engage him at that remuneration ; his lordship, however, stipulating 
 chat though Proudlock might have his coals led by the antediluvian 
 horse that drew them to the gardens, yet Proudlock must pay 
 for the fuel himself, that being, as his lordship truly said, the best 
 
110 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 means of checking an undue consumption; and Lonnergan and hia 
 lordship carried on a correspondence that would have filled a number 
 of "Bailey's Sporting Magazine " on the subject. 
 
 At the time of our story, Proudlock had been a year and a half at 
 Beldon Hall, during which time be had ascertained tbe exact length 
 of Mr. Lonnergan's foot, as well as the ways and means of all the 
 Burrounding country. Lonnergan was fond of woodcocks, and Proud- 
 lock was too happy to supply tbem. Mrs. Lonnergan liked hare-soup, 
 and Proudlock knew how to snare them on some one else's property. 
 Though often caught, he was always ready with an excuse, how he had 
 followed that scoundrel, Jack Mason, off their manor on to the preserve 
 he was found upon, or was lying perdu to see who came to take up the 
 trapped pheasant on the other side of the hedge. Altogether, though 
 he was much disliked and strongly suspected, yet no one cared to 
 tackle with a nobleman's servant, especially one notoriously supported 
 by the deputy nobleman, " Lord" Lonnergan, as the agent was called. 
 So Proudlock strutted, and swaggered, and vapoured, and bullied, always 
 presuming on his great size and proportions, and, though often 
 threatening, never coming into actual collision with any one. Inde- 
 pendent Jimmy, indeed, was the only man in the country who had 
 ever stood fairly up to him ; but the generous giant said he refrained 
 from touching him on the score of inequality of size, and that people 
 would accuse him of having crushed a worm. Jimmy, however, who 
 was very handy with his fists, hearing of this, then addressed him 
 through the usual medium of communication, — viz., the pugilistic 
 column in " Bell's Life in London," — stating that Independent Jimmy 
 was ready to fight the Big Bully of Beldon Hall for three pounds a side, 
 in a roped ring at the back of the Pirfield station, any day between 
 the coming of the 9 - 30 a.m. train, and the going of the south mail; 
 but Proudlock did not take any notice of this either, merely observing 
 in general company that a nobleman's servant could not demean him- 
 self by fighting with a 'bus-man. 
 
 Such, then, was the genius who encountered Mr. Romford on his 
 visit of inspection of the Baldon Hall stables ; and, as next to a bit 
 of pink, a bit of velveteen came nearest home to the heart of our hero, 
 he returned the keeper's semi-military salute with a " How are 
 you ? " and a wave of his right hand, as though he had known him 
 before. 
 
 Thus emboldened, Proudlock made him a bow, observing that he 
 was glad to see Mr. Romford amongst them, and hoped he would have 
 good sport. 
 
 " Thank'ce," said Romford — "tkank'ee;" adding, " that depends 
 
MR. mOUDLOCK, THE KEEPER. Ill 
 
 a good deal upon gentlemen of your cloth, however. I know you are 
 a good feller, and will do all in your power to promote it." 
 
 " Certainly" replied Proudlock, with an emphasis — ' certainly," 
 repeated he, as though he had never shot a fox in his life, or turned 
 down a bag-man either. 
 
 "Not at all great fox-preservers down here, I believe," observed 
 Mr. Romford, pretending to know a good deal more than he really did. 
 
 " "Well (hum), there are (hum) scaly people in all countries," 
 observed Mr. Proudlock; "but, upon the whole, I should (hum) say 
 there are (haw) as good here as elsewhere." 
 
 Proudlock's preservation depended altogether upon the payment of 
 his fees, for which he sent in his bill at the end of the season as 
 regular as a boot or shoe maker, — so much for a litter, so much for a 
 find, so much for stopping, or " stoping," as he spelt it. 
 
 But, though Mr. Romford asked about foxes, he was quite as anxious 
 to know about pheasants, — who was tenacious, who was extra fierce, 
 who took it easy, and who might be poached upon with impunity. 
 So, in the course of a running dissertation on racks and mangers, 
 boxes and stalls, Mr. Romford managed to blend a very useful inquiry 
 into the particulars of the country generally, keeping foxes apparently 
 to the fore, but at the same time casting about for general information. 
 
 Having criticised the stables, with their appurtenances, and pro- 
 nounced them extremely good, our friend and his cicerone now found 
 themselves before the spacious coach-houses on the left-hand side of 
 the building, a few paces in front of which Mr. Romford stationed 
 himself, as if to stare them out of countenance : the idea floating 
 uppermost in his mind at the moment being, that they would make 
 very capital kennels ; and a further investigation and division of the 
 whole into four, satisfied him on that point. And, having got on so 
 well with Proudlock, he saw no reason why he should not take his 
 opinion on that point. 
 
 "I say," observed he, looking him steadily in the face — "I say, 
 don't you think these coach-houses might very easily be converted 
 into kennels?" 
 
 Proudlock drew breath and bit his thick lip, for he well knew that 
 if there was one thing his noble master, Lord Love tin, was more 
 particular about than another, it was having the Hall and offices 
 kept in perfect apple-pie order; not that his lordship eared about 
 6eeing them, but he liked to know that they were so, and that he 
 could occupy them at a moment's notice whenever he chose to return 
 to England. It was that feeling that prevented his letting Mrs. 
 Emmerson have the cut-pile carpet. He was afraid she would wear it 
 
112 me. pacey romford's hounds. 
 
 down below the orthodox standard of other things, and so derange 
 ihe grand order of uniformity. It had been down some time. 
 
 " "Well, what do you think ? " asked Facey, seeing Proudlock rather 
 craned at the question. 
 
 "Oh, it could be altered easy enough," replied the man of 
 powder and shot. " The only question in my mind was, whether 
 his lordship — that is to say, Mr. Lonnergan — might like it or 
 not." 
 
 "And who's Mr. Lonnergan?" demanded Facey, it being the firs., 
 mention he had heard of the name. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Lonnergan," replied the keeper, in the deferential tone 
 due to a man in authority — " Oh, Mr. Lonnergan, you know, is my 
 lord's representative here, — he and his son, Mr. Lovetin Lonnergan, 
 at least ; and we never do anything without consulting one or other of 
 them." 
 
 The fact was, Lonnergan had been the last lord's agent, and had 
 hardly been able to realise the fact that he (Lonnergan) was not the 
 real owner of the property, and the present Lord Viscount an intruder. 
 
 "And where do they live?" asked Mr. Romford. 
 
 "At Flush House, near Bury St. Bees, about nine miles from 
 here," replied the retired giant, pointing in the direction in which 
 it lay. 
 
 " Well, then, I'll tell you what, you go over there, with my com- 
 pliments, in the morning, and say that, as I've taken the place, I 
 s'pose there'll be no objection to my makin' a few little temporary 
 alterations, which I'll restore before I leave." 
 
 " Yes-'ir," said Proudlock, adding, "shall I say what they are, 
 sir?" 
 
 "Well, no," replied Romford. "No; you see I can't 'zactly know 
 myself; but just say, generally, triflin' alterations — triflin' alterations." 
 
 "Just so," replied Mr. Proudlock, who now saw the give-an-inch- 
 take-an-ell principle upon which the inquiry had to proceed. And, 
 after a few more inquiries and inspirations, the friends separated, each 
 with a high opinion of the other. 
 
 It was a wise step on the part of friend Romford sending Proudlock 
 over to Flush House, for it conciliated Mr. Lonnergan, and pro- 
 cured an answer from that promising youth, commonly called the 
 Honourable Lovetin Lonnergan, whese father was away, that very 
 materially assisted Mr. Romford's further proceedings, namely, that 
 Mr. Lonnergan had no instructions from Lord Lovetin on the 
 subject, but that as a friend of the family, "one of them," as he 
 familiarly aaid, Lovetin Lonnergan had no doubt Mr. Romford might 
 
Mil. PKOUDLOCK, THE KEEPER. 313 
 
 uo as he likfd. And, of course, the first thing he liked was to con- 
 vert the aforesaid coach-houses into kennels, which he did in the most 
 liberal way by not only employing Lord Lovetin's joiners, but making 
 the estate supply him with the necessary material, Facey observing 
 that it would be none the worse for his work after it was done. So, 
 having made himself two capital lodging-rooms with airing-yards in 
 front, he set up his boiler behind, and converted the harness-room into 
 a feeding-house. 
 
 And here for a word on the Lonnergan?. 
 
 Lord Lonnergan was one of a now nearly bygone generation, whoso 
 antiquity is proclaimed by their dress. He wore a large puffy shirt- 
 frill and a puddingey white tie with flowing ends, a step collared buff 
 vest, and a blue coat with bright buttons. He had long adhered to 
 tights and Hessians, and it was only when he found himself left alone 
 in his glory that he put his fat legs into trousers. He was a porcupine- 
 headed little man, who tied his cravat so tight as to look as if he were 
 going to throttle himself. He was a short, sallow, plethoric, wheezing, 
 scanty- w r hiskered man, with eyes set very high up in his head, like 
 garret windows ; a long unmeaning-looking face, surmounted with a 
 nose like a pear. His mouth was significant of nothing except an 
 aptitude for eating. As we said before, he had a voluminous double- 
 chin. 
 
 He drew his great warmingpan-like watch up from his fob with 
 a massive kitchen -jack -like gold chain, to which was attached a 
 bunch of seals, the lai'gest and most striking whereof had been pur- 
 chased with the surplus cash from a tea-service testimonial presented 
 to Mrs. Lonnergan by the tenants on Lord Lumbago's Lubberey estate 
 in Easyshire, and contained around a plough the significant motto, 
 "Rexts should xevek Rise." And rents certainly never did rise 
 with Lonnergan, for he would always rather excite the landlords to 
 compassion, than urge the tenants to activity; still he had some 
 capital forms of agreement to the fulfilment of which he never attended. 
 Of course he did not use the " rent should never rise" seal when he 
 wrote to any of his employers, but another butterpatdike production 
 with his initials "J. L.," John Lonnergan, cut in the open-hearted, 
 undisguised capitals of the old engravers. No writhing hieroglyphics 
 for him. 
 
 He had lived in good times, when gentlemen were gentlemen, and 
 trusted their land agents implicitly, never troubling themselves wit>- 
 farming or interfering with their tenants' occupations in aay shape 
 or way, taking everything for granted, including both facts and 
 figures. Still Lonnergan was a noted old screw in his own affairs, 
 
 l 
 
11* MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 never missing a chance anywhere, and always on the watch for dis- 
 count. He was too good a judge to receive tenant-farmer testimonials 
 himself, but Mrs. Lonnergan was open to the reception of any number 
 — vases, inkstands, butter-coolers, fruit-stands, &c. A guest leaving 
 his house one dark night mistook his lordship for the servant in the 
 passage, and gave him a shilling, saying, " There, there's a shilling 
 for you, and mind your master doesn't get hold of it." 
 
 Lord Lonnergan did not encourage his son, Lovetin Lonnergan (jo 
 called, of course, after the last lord, who was his godfather), in any- 
 thing like show or extravagance, but endeavoured to hold him on 
 steadily in his own line, and make his father's large accumulations 
 still more. "Stick to the shop, and the shop will stick to you;" 
 " Take care of the pence, and the pounds will take care of them- 
 selves." " When has a man got enough money, Lovetin ? " " When 
 he has got a little more than he has," were aphorisms of almost daily 
 inculcation by old Lonnergan ; but, somehow, Lovetin Lonnergan did 
 not like the doctrine, and longed for a little more freedom and inde- 
 pendence. 
 
 Not that Lovetin was extravagant ; on the contrary, he neither shot, 
 nor coursed, nor hunted, but he would like to ride about in a chaise. 
 Biding about in a chaise was, he thought, the summit of all earthly 
 happiness. He always looked upon Independent Jimmy's friend, lolling 
 along in his carriage, as the happiest of human beings, and longed to 
 emulate him. 
 
 Lovetin Lonnergan, "the Honourable," as he was called, was the 
 exact counterpart of his father, making allowance of course for the 
 difference of dress and the disparity of years. The same long, lugu- 
 brious, scanty -whiskered, sallow face, with the garret-window eyes, 
 the same incipient pear nose, and the same absence of expression about 
 the mouth. 
 
 In lieu of the warming-pan with the jack-chain and the buttcrpat- 
 like appurtenances, he had a smart Albert chain attached to a small 
 Geneva watch, and instead of excommunicating his chin with his tie 
 as his excellent father did, he gave its looming proportions ample 
 latitude over the turn-down collar and diminutive neck-string of 
 the day. 
 
 Lovetin Lonnergan was now just turned of five-and-twenty, and 
 had plenty of young ladies after him, plenty of mammas sounding 
 Mis praises, but Lord Lonnergan was difficult to please, always assert- 
 ing that it was' utterly impossible for his son Lovetin to marry other 
 than " a lady of fortin." Lovetin was proud of his father's wealth, 
 and fond of expatiating upon its amount, not unfrequently winding 
 
THE INTERNAL ECONOMY OF BELDON HALL. ]15 
 
 up his discourses -with a shake of the head and the filial ejaculation 
 of "Ah, now, if father would but die /" 
 
 This youth, becoming a semi-hero in our story, we have introduced 
 him more at large than we should otherwise have done. Let us 
 now go into Beldon Hall, and see about something to eat. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 THE INTERNAL ECONOMY OF BELDON HALL. 
 
 Pakt of Lucy's — we beg pardon again — Mrs. Somerville's luggage 
 consisted of the remains of her larder at the "West-end Swell, viz., 
 half a loaf of brown bread, three-quarters of a loaf of white, a pound 
 and a half of pork chops, a slice of leathery cheese, a nip of tea, and 
 some fivepenny sugar, Lucy observing that it was of no use leaving 
 anything behind her. And, indeed, it was lucky she brought some- 
 thing, for an inspection of the Beldon Hall larder would lead to 
 the supposition that the Dirties lived entirely upon air. There was 
 not even the wretched bare shoulder-blade that generally seems to act 
 the part of scarecrow in the most destitute of houses. Two eggs and 
 a bunch of thyme was all the provender the larders of the proud Hall 
 produced. 
 
 Still there never was a place yet where drink was not to be had, 
 and Facey having now returned to the Hall, and found Lucy making 
 herself quite at home in the breakfast-room, produced a half-crown 
 piece, and told her to send somebody out for a quart of ale, and tht 
 rest of the money in gin, so that they might have their dinners as 
 soon as possible, for Facey always dined when he was hungry without 
 waiting for any specific hour of the day. And while Dirty No. 1 was 
 busy cooking the pork chops, and Dirtiest of the Dirty was laying the 
 cloth, Lucy Lionised our master over the magnificent mansion, taking 
 much the same line as old Dirty had done. Friend Facey was greatly 
 impressed with the magnitude of his venture, and almost doubted 
 whether he was equal to the occasion. He wished that he mightn't 
 have put his foot in it. A house, he said, was a consuming animal, 
 and people would think he was deuced rich, living in such a large 
 one. He must be prudent and circumspect. 
 
 " X was expensive, and soon became poor ; 
 Y was the wise man who kei>t want from the door"— 
 
litS MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 he inwardly chanted. And having dined, he whiffed his pipe and 
 sippf d his gin, and at length retired to bed, full of caution and pru- 
 dential considerations. 
 
 Morning, however, and the return of Proudlock from Plush House, 
 with the satisfactory reply from Lovetin Lonnergan, that Mr. Romford 
 was to do as he liked, brought him confidence, and taking the 
 Honourable at his word, he forthwith began to exercise his privilege 
 in the most summary manner, for finding there was an excellent cellar 
 of wine, he sent for Tom Hooper, the blacksmith, and bid him pick 
 the lock, telling Dirty No. 1, in Hooper's hearing, to be 'ticklarly 
 careful in preserving the bottles in order that he might restore an 
 equal quantity of wine when he left. As there was a large stock of 
 champagne, wbich Facey said would not improve by keeping, Lucy 
 and he indulged in it most freely, Pacey acquiring, as he said, very 
 gentlemanly ideas with the beverage. So much so, indeed, that after 
 a pint, or perhaps three-quarters of a bottle, he did not feel so much 
 out of his element at Beldon Hall as he did on his first coming. Lucy 
 on her part took to grandeur quite naturally, and Dirty No. 1, having 
 supplied her as well with the " Beldon Hall " seal, as a good stock of 
 coroneted paper (kept ready against Lord Lovetin's contemplated 
 return, which he always said might take place any day), she diffused 
 her orders freely through the land. London, however, is the real place 
 for unhesitating compliance with specious orders, and thither Mrs. 
 Somerville directed her chief attentions, patronising all the shops and 
 establishments that she used to envy and covet, and look upon as 
 utterly impossible, while living with Mr. Sponge in Jermyn Street, 
 Haymarket. 
 
 She reviewed her wardrobe, estimating its capabilities by her 
 improved condition — sister of a master of foxhounds — mistress of a 
 nobleman's mansion — and, finding it rather deficient, she wrote off 
 to Madame D * * *, of B * * * Street, for sundry semi-mourning 
 dresses, Paramatta twill, glace* silk, with flowers, black velvet with 
 black satin, jet ornaments, and other articles, all of which came down 
 with the usual alacrity of high-sounding orders. One obsequious 
 milliner indeed directed her bonnet-box to " The Honourable Mrs. 
 Somerville," an addition that caused Independent Jimmy to observe, 
 as he handed it down from the bus to Dirtiest of the Dirty, " Sink, ar 
 didn't ken yeer mistress had a handle tir her name." 
 
 Handle, however, or no handle, things came down with the utmost 
 despatch — wonderful alacrity — not only the outward and visible articles 
 of dress, but the more delicate items of Edith night-dressos and under 
 attire. 
 
THE INTERNAL ECONOMY OF BELDON HALL. 117 
 
 "When the gentlemanly ideas were in, Facey did not so much grudge 
 the orders, but with the evaporation of the champagne came prudent 
 thoughts and fears for the future. Still, as Mrs. Somerville ordered 
 them all in her own name, he consoled himself with the reflection 
 that he could not be made liable, and didn't know but it was just as 
 well to have a handsome well-dressed woman about the house as a 
 dowdy. He only hoped that none of the Heaviside Hunt, or any 
 of his promiscuous acquaintance, would come and expose her — of 
 that, however, he must take his chance, as he had chanced many a 
 difficulty before. 
 
 And, in truth, she required a refit, or rather, perhaps, an outfit, for, 
 without going at all into the minutiae of her wardrobe, it must be 
 evident to every one that what did extremely well at the ^Vest-end 
 Swell would be very insufficient for Beldon Hall. Nor, considering 
 the precarious nature of her tenure, can she be much blamed for 
 taking advantage of her opportunity. 
 
 " Who can observe the careful ant, 
 And not provide for future want % " 
 
 thought Lucy, as she again applied the key to the drawer in the library 
 table containing the coroneted note paper with the talismanic words 
 "BeldonHall" ingilt characters on the top, in order that she might again 
 test the liberality of the Londoners for shoes, scents, gloves, French 
 cambrics, embroideries, cosmetics, and miscellaneous articles generally , 
 
 Mrs. Glitters — now Mrs. Sidney Benson, we should observe — arrived 
 in due time, being as anxious for a run into the country as her daughter 
 had been. "When Independent Jimmy met her at the Firfield Station, in 
 her large hoop and small stock of linen, he thought she was Mrs. Somer- 
 ville's lady's-maid, and told her " her missis was arl safe at the Harl." 
 
 Facey was rather disappointed when he saw what he had imported, 
 for Mrs. Benson, being only accustomed to dress those who strutted 
 upon the stage, not doing any " My name is Norval"-ing herself, had 
 none of the easy self-possession that distinguished her elegant daughter. 
 However, Facey consoled himself with the reflection that she would 
 not be much seen, while her homely air and attire might enable him 
 to get more work out of her than he might otherwise have done had 
 she been fine. If she looked after the Dirties, and Lucy after the 
 stables when he was away, the arrangement might answer and not be 
 fery onerous ; but he dreaded the inflammation of his weekly bills, 
 and, as he said, " was more afraid of the old lady's appetite than he 
 tvas of her drinkite." This latter requirement Lord Lovetin's cellar 
 would supply, but the imperative butcher's bills would be his. 
 
CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 GOODHEAKTED GXEEN AGAIN. 
 
 There being no plant or stock-in-trade belonging to the Larkspur 
 Hunt for Mr. Romford to take to, he bad to make up an establishment 
 as well and as quickly as he could. So soon, therefore, as he got a 
 bargain struck with the Doubleinrapshireites, he wrote to Goodhearted 
 Green, detailing his present position and equine wants, urging Good- 
 heart to supply the latter as quickly as he could, adding if he had 
 not the exact ticket, to send as near as possible ; and Romford con- 
 cluded by saying that he would be glad to see Goodheart down at his 
 new residence, Beldon Hall, in Doubleimup shire, where he would 
 mount him and find wear and tear for his teeth for a week or ten days, 
 whenever he liked. Goodheart's great bosom swelled with honest 
 emotion, for he had recently sent away some most remarkable male- 
 factors — horses that kicked, horses that -struck, horses that flew at 
 people like tigers, horses that nobody could shoe, horses that nobody 
 could saddle when they were shod, horses that nobody could ride when 
 they were shod and saddled — some very notorious savages, in fact, as 
 Mr. Rarey would say. 
 
 " Oh dear ! oh dear ! " exclaimed he, stamping his foot and smiting 
 his forehead, as the concluding paragraph of Romford's letter touched 
 him in the quick. " Oh dear ! oh dear ! If I had but got this last 
 week, I could have fit him with such a stud as would have astonished 
 the natives. There's Bounding Ben, to be sure," continued Goodheart, 
 thinking over what he had left. " There's Bounding Ben — he's hup 
 to sixteen stun; but he's uncertain in his bounding, or he wouldn't be 
 called Bounding Ben. Ah ! if I 'ad but kept Pull-Devil-pull-Baker ! — 
 he'd ha' shone conspikiously brilliant. Neck-or-No thing, too, would 
 ha' bin a grand oss for Mr. Romford. But it's no use cryin' over spilt 
 milk," continued Mr. Green, tinkling his little yard bell to summon 
 his head man, Aaron Peacock, to his presence. 
 
 That worthy now emerged from his hiding-place, and came shuffling 
 up the yard with the usual groom-like, crab-like action. He was a 
 little, weasely, ginnified-looking man, with scarcely a hair on his head, 
 or an ounce of flesh on his bones, but keen, twinkling, little grey oyes, 
 
GOODHEARTED GREEN AGAIN. 119 
 
 that penetrated a horse in an instant. He looked right into them, aa 
 it were. He seemed to dress up to the character of Peacock, being 
 gay and gaudy in his costume, and very various : scarlet tie, Lincoln 
 green vest, lilac shirt, baggy breeches that had once been white and 
 tight, yellow leather leggings, with mother-of-pearl buttons. 
 
 Though he was not an original liar — could not lead the gallop him- 
 self, yet he was a capital coadjutor, and would swear to anything 
 that Goodheart said; so, what between Goodheart's generous volu- 
 bility and Aaron's shakes of the head and solemn sententious sayings, 
 a youngster was pretty sure to be handsomely cheated between them. 
 Let us now see them together. 
 
 "Ah, here's that big Mr. Romford written for osses," said Good- 
 heart to Aaron, flourishing the letter, as the little man got up to his 
 master. 
 
 "So-o," replied Aaron, drawing his breath, adding, "W many 
 may he please to want ?" 
 
 " Oh, ten or a dozen," replied Green, as if it was quite an impossible 
 number. 
 
 " Harn't that in the 'ole stables," observed Aaron — "leastways, not 
 fit to go." 
 
 " Kot with such a robustious giant as Mr. Romford," assented Good- 
 heart, preparing to take a stroll of the premises, more with a view of 
 arranging his thoughts than in the expectation of finding horses. 
 
 The yard was spacious — larger than it looked — for there were sup» 
 plementary stables at the low end belonging to houses in Sylvia Street, 
 which Goodheart let off in dull times to one Roughhead, a cab-master, 
 and altogether he had standing for forty or fifty horses. Still, the 
 exigencies of an unusually open season had depleted them, and he had 
 not above twelve or fourteen horses in hand at the time of Mr. Rom- 
 ford's sudden demand, and these were mostly of the weak, washy 
 order — good flat-catchers, but good for nothing for work — all the real 
 "playful rogues," as Goodheart called them, being away, practising 
 their vagaries in the provinces, much to the horror of huntsmen and 
 masters of hounds therein. There is nothing so formidable as a rash 
 young man on an intemperate horse, for he thinks he must ride as well 
 to distinguish himself as to get his change out of his quadruped. 
 Hence, he is always in the midst of the hounds — always rasping on, 
 pnlling and hauling, and taking a ten-acre field to turn his brute 
 about in. These are the boys that baffle the sport. 
 
 The horses, as we said before, were almost all good flat-catchers, well 
 calculated to please the eye, which Green knew was half the battle 
 with the youngsters, and moreover, like the aforesaid Bounding Ben, 
 
120 mr. facet romford's hounds. 
 
 were generally christened with high-sounding names diametrically 
 opposite to their respective qualities. Thus, "Everlasting," a hand' 
 some sixteen hands horse, with black points, and all the shape and 
 strength necessary for a weight-carrying hunter, slackened his pace as 
 soon as ever he got upon rising ground, and gradually subsided into a 
 walk as he ascended a hill. He couldn't go up one, so it was no use 
 trying to force him. 
 
 ' ' Hearty Harry," again, wanted no end of codling and linseed -teaing ; 
 " Twiee-a-Week " would hardly come out once a fortnight ; while the 
 " Glutton" looked as if he lived altogether upon toothpicks and water. 
 
 " That Boundin' Ben oss is most like big Mr. B.'s work," observed 
 Peacock. 
 
 " Yes, he is," assented Goodheart — " yes, he is. Put him in as 
 one." 
 
 " ' Op Along,' then," suggested Aaron. 
 
 " Why, yes, he's a neat oss — a takin' oss — with a very high bred 
 determined hair about him," replied Goodheart; "but he's lame of 
 three legs, and not very sound on the fourth." 
 
 " Only to lame the fourth, and make him all right," observed Aaron. 
 
 " Well, that might do," assented Goodheart ; " but we mustn't call 
 him Op Along you know ; call him " True Blue," or " Bell Metal," or 
 something of that sort." 
 
 " Ah, Bell Metal's the better name — a very taking name. Bean 
 him, and call him Bell Metal. He'll be No. 2. Now for another. 
 Well, there's ' the Brick,' " suggested Aaron. 
 
 " The Brick," repeated Goodheart, for he had had so many of that 
 name that he could not hit off the horse at the r^oment. 
 
 " The brown oss with the star, and the dead side to his mouth — not 
 he nutmeg grey that we bought of the soldier hofficer," explained 
 Peacock. 
 
 "Ah, that soldier officer's 'orse was a do," sighed Goodheart; 
 "does nothin' but kick in the stable, and won't pass a wheeled vehicle 
 of any sort or kind without scrubbin' his rider's leg up against it, to 
 see which is 'ardest. To be sure he might do for a servant's oss," 
 continued he; "servants arn't so 'tickler 'bout their legs as their 
 masters ; besides, there are no vehicles in the hunting field for him to 
 get to and scrub against. Oh, I would say christen him " Perfection," 
 and send him," said Goodheart. 
 
 " And the Brick?" asked Aaron. 
 
 " And the Brick, too," assented Goodheart. " His only fault is 
 that he won't face water, but a whip can always go round by a bridge, 
 or cross in a boat, or keep out of the way of water altogether. 
 
GOODHEARTED GEE EN AGAIN. 121 
 
 Then how ahoufc ' Oliver Twist? ' " continued Goodheart, pleased at 
 the progress he was making. 
 
 " Oliver's not a had oss," replied Aaron, " barrin' that his fore- 
 quarters are rather at wariance with his hind, hut it don't make- much 
 matter which end of an oss gets through an edge fust, so long as they 
 both land on the right side together at last." 
 
 "True," assented Goodheart — "true; put him in for another. 
 How many's that?" continued he, telling them off on his fingers. 
 Ben one, Op — that's to say, Bell Metal two, the Brick three, Per- 
 fection four, Oliver five, and say — Everlasting or Twice-a-Week 
 six." 
 
 " Oh, Twice-a Week will do no thin' for nobody," observed Aaron, 
 with a shake of his head. " Better send the Glutton than him." 
 
 " But he's such a hungry-looking scarecrow," replied Goodheart. 
 
 "Then say Heverlastin'," rejoined Aaron. "He's 'andsome 
 enough with his great harms, magnific shoulders, and lean 'andsome 
 'ead." 
 
 "'Andsome enough," assented Goedheart, "but he's more fit for 
 some bathing or watering-place buck, who wants to do the show-off 
 of the meet and the streets, than such a ramming, cramming customer 
 as this Mr. B." 
 
 And while yet they stood debating whether to send the Glutton or 
 Everlasting, a blue and red telegram-boy came dribbling down the 
 yard, fumbling for something in his leather-case as he came. 
 
 "Ah, now, here's mischief! " exclaimed Goodheart, advancing and 
 taking the note from the boy, muttering as he opened it, "Somebody's 
 got his skull split or been carried triumphantly over the moon. No, 
 ail right ! " continued he, swinging joyfully round on his heel — 
 "All right! — all right! only Placid Joe [late Pull -Devil] been too 
 many for Mr. Martin Mufiington — only Placid Joe been too many 
 for Mr. Martin Mufiington. "What could he expect, a little Titmouse of 
 a man like him getting on to an 'orse fit to carry an 'ouse ! Told him 
 he wouldn't suit him, but he would 'ave 'im. Thought he knew 
 6etter than me. Many of these young gents do." Goodheart then 
 read the telegram again. Thus it ran : — 
 
 " Mr. Martin Mufiington, at the White Swan Inn, Showoffborough, 
 to Mr. Green, Brown Street, Bagnigge Wells Road, London. 
 
 " That brute, Placid Joe, has no more mouth than a bull. He's 
 earned me right into the midst of the hounds, and nearly annihilated 
 the huntsman. I will send him back bj r the 9'30 a.m. train to- 
 morrow, and won't pay you a halfpenny for his hire*" 
 
122 mr. facey romford's hounds. 
 
 "Ah, well, all right," said Goodheart, "will have to pay hia 
 expenses both ways, at all events." 
 
 And here we may observe that Goodhearted Green behaved well in 
 the matter, for he didn't want Martin to have him; but Martin, seeing 
 the horse's name, " Placid Joe," put conspicuously up in black and 
 white letters on a board in front of his stall, became enamoured of him, 
 and attributed Green's objections to letting him have him to another 
 cause, namely, his wanting to keep Joe for somebody else. So Martin 
 would have him, though we daresay if Green had made similar 
 objections to Muffington having Placid Joe under the name of "Pull- 
 Devil-pull-Baker," he would have been equally anxious, Muffington 
 having the vanity to think that he could ride anything. 
 
 The fact was the Baker was only placid when he was either ground 
 down with work or " Earified," but as soon as ever the rarifaction 
 Avore off he was just like an uniced glass of champagne — not good 
 to be taken till he was iced again. 
 
 Still he was just the horse for Mr. Romford, a sixteen -hands bay, 
 blood-like, and handsome, with great substance, and plenty of liberty. 
 Everlasting and he were as handsome as horses could well be, with 
 the most opposite qualities, the Baker being as hard as the other was 
 poffc. Everlasting, however, was such a gay deceiver, and Mr. Bom- 
 ford had so many opportunities of placing him advantageously, that 
 Mr. Green determined to send him instead of Bell Metal. Having 
 thus made up his mind, he retired into his little den of an office and 
 poured forth all his hopes and fears upon paper to Pacey, beginning 
 at the top of a large sheet, and going right through to the end of the 
 fourth page, with one continuous paragraph, full of the flow of the 
 milk of human kindness, regrets, promises, hopes, and expectations. 
 How, if he had known only three days before, he could have suited 
 Mr. Bomford to a T, but how that the season was then at its height, 
 and everything with the slightest pretension to hunting was caught 
 up in an instant, but how that many of his stud wouldn't suit every- 
 body, and, as sure as ever anything came back worth its keep, it should 
 be sent off direct without a moment's delay to Beldon Hall in Double- 
 imupshire, while others should follow as fast as they could be procured, 
 and the ominous letter, equal to two pages of this work, concluded by 
 a grateful acknowledgment of the compliment Mr. Bomford had paid 
 Green by asking him to Beldon Hall, where he assured him he would 
 visit him before the end of the season, for he felt a real and sincere 
 interest in his distinguished customer's comfort and convenience. 
 T\Tever, indeed, had he known any one in whom he took so great an 
 interest. 
 
GOODHEARTED GREEN AGAIN. 123 
 
 And Placil Joe returning as advised, the next day's post conveyed 
 the following invoice :— 
 
 "Francis Romford, Esq., 
 
 "Beldon Hall, 
 
 " Doubleimupshire. 
 
 " Please receive at the Eirfield Station by the 2*20 p.m. train the 
 following horses : — 
 
 " 1. Bounding Ben; a whole coloured dark -brown horse, up to six- 
 teen stone. 
 
 " 2. Pull-Devil-pull-Baker ; a high-couraged bay, up to almost any 
 weight and work. 
 
 "3. The Brick ; a brown horse, up to twelve stone. 
 
 "4. Everlasting; a bay; a splendid weight -carrier, and very 
 handsome. 
 
 "5. Perfection; a nutmeg grey; a good servant's horse, and 
 smart. 
 
 " 6. Oliver Twist; a black horse, quiet in harness, and has carried 
 a lady." 
 
 These, with what Facey had before, viz., Honest Robin, Brilliant, 
 and Leotard, made him up a tolerable starting stud, reinforced as it 
 was to be with further consignments from the same orthodox quarter. 
 
 All things now conduced to that period of excitement when the 
 orchestra having at length tuned their instruments to their satisfac- 
 tion, the leader flourishes his baton, and forthwith the music strikes 
 up. The Swig and Chowey garments had come, also Mr. Romford's 
 upper things, and though Bartley and Hammond declined clothing the 
 extremities, there were plenty of others proud of the honour of work- 
 ing for the great Turbot on its tail. 
 
 The coming of a new family into a county, especially to occupy 
 such an important place as Beldon Hall, was sure to make a con- 
 siderable sensation, but when with the strange family was coupled a 
 new bachelor master of hounds, the excitement was intense. Things, 
 too, had been managed so quickly and quietly that though there were 
 two parties in the hunt, there was no time for the reaction of inquiry 
 and pulling to pieces. All parties, hunting and non-hunting ones, 
 agreed that it was a most fortunate thing for the country to get such 
 a man as Mr. Romford to take it, and the acquisition of Beldon Hall 
 stamped the transaction so conclusively, that if any one had had the 
 impudence to get up and say this Mr. Romford is a penniless im- 
 postor, and "I'll prove it," he would have been looked upon as mad 
 
124 mr. facey romford's hounds. 
 
 There was, therefore, no doubt or hesitation about calling at Beldon 
 Hall — no, Dot even any looking into the "Landed Gentry," to see if 
 it was all right about this widowed sister. All was taken for granted 
 as readily and agreeably as either Mr. Romford or Mrs. Somerville 
 could have wished. The only contest seemed to be who should be 
 first to call upon the new comers, a feat that was accomplished by our, 
 or rather Independent Jimmy's friend, Mr. Watkins. 
 
 And this distinguished family now forming a prominent feature in 
 our story, we will take the liberty of introducing the members of it 
 before we throw off with the hounds. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXX. 
 
 ME. AND MRS. WILLY WATKINS AND MISS WATKINS. 
 
 Havltstg now introduced the reader as well to the out-door offices as 
 the in-door magnificence of Beldon Hall, let us proceed to dilate a little 
 upon its immediate neighbourhood, and on Doubleinmpshire generally. 
 And taking parties pretty much in the order in which they figure in 
 our story, we will first revert to Independent Jimmy's dandified hair- 
 brushing friend, Mr. Watkins of Dalberry Lees, commonly called 
 Willy Watkins, who has already had the advantage of that free- 
 spoken gentleman's opinions passed upon him, as Jimmy charioteered 
 Mr. Romford along in the melon frame. Jimmy, it will be remembered, 
 made a sort of rough guess at "Willy's antecedents, which we will 
 now supplement with more reliable information. 
 
 Well, then, we may commence our introduction of these important 
 personages in our story, by saying, that when Willy Watkins went to 
 the "diggins," he had exhausted friends, credit, and estate! Every- 
 body was sick of Willy Watkins. It was— Oh, ' D ' Willy Watkins ! 
 and ' B ' Willy Watkins ! I never want to hear more of Willy 
 Watkins ! " Now, however, he was quite another Willy Watkins. 
 
 But before displaying him as he now is, let us glance at what he 
 once was. Willy's misfortune was, being a gooddooking fellow 
 Irithout any brains. That misfortune was aggravated by his looking 
 Ivise, for it was not until a man had worked and tried Willy in all 
 to&jB, that he saw what an empty-headed creature he really was. He 
 was tall, nearly six feet high, well set up and well proportioned, 
 
MR. AND MRS. WILLY W ATKINS AND MISS WATKINS 125 
 
 with a clear dark complexion, intelligent eyes, and good features 
 generally. 
 
 He began life with a splendid pair of whiskers, and a head of dark 
 glossy hair, which he petted and tended with the utmost care and 
 solicitude. He was always feeling, and smoothing, and coaxing his 
 side-locks. Even at the period of our story, when old Father Time 
 had tithed them severely, he still kept fingering and feeling and putting 
 them right, when he had nothing to do, which was pretty often. 
 
 Well, Willy's looks had been the ruin of him, for first one silly 
 woman, and then anothei", had smiled and flattered him into folly, 
 until he fully believed he could marry a countess, or any one he liked. 
 With Willy, as with Facey himself, we are not prepared to give any 
 pedigree, which we must leave to the reader to infer from his calling. 
 
 Willy had tried his hand at various trades before he finally settled 
 on emigration. First of all, it was thought his good looks would 
 ensure him success behind the counter, and he was duly installed with 
 a yard-wand, at Messrs. Flimsey and Figments, hosiers and haber- 
 dashers, High Street, Brittlesworth. Here, however, he was such a 
 lazy dog, that he could never get the shutters down in proper time, 
 and the shop used to remain closed till half-past eight or nine o'clock 
 in the morning, much to the amusement of Messrs. Scamp and Scurry- 
 worth's genteel young people opposite, and the inhabitants of the 
 High Street generally. Flimsey and Figments couldn't stand this, and 
 after two or three ineffectual scoldings they gave Willy up, who 
 presently obtained a clerkship in a brewery, at Brackenworth, but here 
 the dull monotony of counting cash and measuring malt contrasted 
 so forcibly with the gay insouciance of selling silks and satins to the 
 ladies that Willy emancipated himself at the end of a month, and, 
 after nibbling at an auctioneer's, turned gentleman at large for a time. 
 This, however, is but a poor trade — desperately poor when a man has 
 to sponge on his friends for his meals, who give him his food with the 
 sort of churlishness that one gives a strange dog a bone. 
 
 Willy soon became a seedy swell, a deplorable object at any time, 
 and one that gets daily worse. His hat became glazy, his coat 
 got threadbare and scrimpy, and his boots were patched like the 
 driver's of an omnibus — for we believe nobody ever yet saw a driver 
 of an omnibus with a whole pair. 
 
 In this dilemma, his friends subscribed and set him up a photo- 
 graphic studio, but Willy Watkins soon proved that he was no hand 
 at high art. He made such frights of his friends that he scattered his 
 business before it had well taken root — drove them away with walking 
 advertisements of his incompetence in their hands, He then found it 
 
126 ME. FACET EOMFOEDS HOUNDS. 
 
 was easier to cozen the ladies with their linen than with their like- 
 nesses. 
 
 So the sun of his success soon set. 
 
 He first got rid of his barker, then of his boy, then of the apparatus 
 itself, and finally, at the early age of twenty, went off to the diggings, 
 in Australia, with the proceeds of the sale. And people were heartily 
 o-lad when they heard he was gone, and didn't care if he never came 
 back. Those who had lent him money wrote off the amount in their 
 books, and those who had been photographed by him put themselves 
 quietly away in whitey brown paper, to see if, like port wine, they 
 would improve by keeping. 
 
 Time wore on, and years elapsed ere anything was heard of "Willy 
 "Watkins. Gradually, however, it became bruited in Brittles worth, 
 and elsewhere, that a man of the name of "Watkins had lit on his legs, 
 and was doing uncommonly well — found no end of Ballarat nuggets, in 
 fact. Further accounts confirmed the statement, and the Watkins 
 family began to consider quietly among themselves who was his heir. 
 There was, however, no occasion to give themselves any trouble on 
 that score, for "Willy had anticipated their views by marrying a very 
 aspiring lady, the daughter of a gentleman who had formerly "left 
 his country for his country's good," and who, by land speculations, 
 wool speculations, and a little usury, had amassed a veiy considerable 
 fortune. He had been transported for forgery under the name of 
 Peter Corcoran, but on completing his term of servitude (fourteen 
 years) he assumed that of Fitzgerald, Granby Fitzgerald, and married 
 the daughter of a gentleman who had been transported for burglary, 
 who had also discarded his own name, that of Thomas Duffy, for Conrad 
 Cuningham. "With Duffy, however, we have nothing to do. 
 
 The Fitzgeralds, on the contrary, furnish an important personage 
 in our story. "Well, they soon set up for great people. The Old Bailey 
 reminiscences were merged in the Australian prosperity. They made 
 out that they were the younger branch of an old English family, who 
 nad emigrated for elbow room, and always talked of returning to the 
 old country next year, just as Boulogne gentlemen talk of going to 
 London next week ; but somehow they never go. 
 
 Old Fitzgerald kept his own council, and chuckled at the 'cuteness 
 of his children, of which he had several ; to wit, three sons and four 
 daughters. Hearing that Willy "Watkins was in for a good thing, he 
 invited him to his house, Britannia Park, near Port Phillip, where the 
 eldest and most presuming of his daughters, Miss Letitia, was allowed 
 two clear days' start of her sisters, to enable her to capture Willy, 
 ■which riio did with the greatest ease, and presented herself to her 
 
ME. AND MRS. WILLY W ATKINS AND MISS WATKINS. 12? 
 
 sisters as a, fiancee on their return from visiting the elegant family of a 
 third ex-convict. Those were days when they did transport culprits, 
 instead of giving them tickets of leave to hug honest people at home. 
 "Well, Will}' and Miss Letitia were presently married, and one, and 
 only one, child blessed the aristocratic union; viz., Independent 
 Jimmy's fair friend, christened by the high-sounding names of 
 Cassandra Cleopatra. And "Willy's wealth increasing, though his 
 family did not, as that solitary piece of perfection verged towards 
 Womanhood, he, with his aspiring spouse, resolved to revisit England, 
 there to seek for Cassandra's equal in marriage, — if, indeed, such a 
 parti was to be found. 
 
 "Willy, too, longed to display his wealth in his native country, to 
 drive up and down the High Street of Brittlesworth, and show off 
 before the counter-skippers of Flimsey and Figments. Some people 
 would have shirked that sort of scene, and broken fresh ground, but 
 W r illy did not appreciate the position, and his wife did not know of 
 it. So, having appointed his excellent father-in-law manager of his 
 property, the trio proceeded to England, and after one or two changes 
 established themselves at Dalberry Lees a year or two before Mr. 
 Romford's accession to the country. "Willy was then about five-and- 
 forty, with just as much solicitude about his side-locks as he was when 
 the now nearly bald crown was covered with a glorious crop of curly 
 dark hair. He was always tending, and feeling, and plaistering, and 
 looking in the glass to see whether the side-locks were diminishing or 
 any hairs absent without leave. 
 
 Mrs. Watkins was just then in the prime of life and the full 
 development of her matronly beauty. She was fair and stout, with a 
 commanding presence, and a very determined look about her, — a push- 
 ing, self-asserting, doubtful sort of woman, who would push her way 
 if she could. It was very difficult to keep Mrs. Watkins out of a house 
 that she determined to be into. 
 
 Her daughter was very like her in both mind and person, though 
 on a smaller scale of course, fair — indeed, rather white — with either 
 a natural or an affected lisp, which she seemed rather to culti- 
 vate than correct. Seeing that her father had carriages, and horses, 
 and everything that her mamma said constituted gentility, Miss 
 concluded they were great people, and conducted herself accordingly. 
 Independent Jimmy's description of her wasn't far from the truth — 
 she was very saucy. 
 
 Character is often shown in trifles, and perhaps a copy of a letter 
 from Mrs. Watkins to Mrs. Scarsdale about a cook will elucidate that 
 of Mrs. Watkins better than anything we cm write. Mrs. Scarsdale, 
 
128 MR. FACEY EOMFORD v S HOUNDS. 
 
 we may observe, was a quiet, unassuming lady, who with her husband 
 were people of very old family. They, however, unfortunately were 
 not so rich as they had been. Thus the letter ran : — 
 
 • 
 " To Mrs. Scarsdale, 
 
 " Manor House. 
 
 " Dalberry Lees, 
 
 " Tuesday. 
 
 "Madam, — Mrs. Lubbins, your late cook and housekeeper, bas 
 referred me to you for a character in those capacities, though indeed I 
 only require her in the former one, as my establishment requires the 
 constant supervision of an experienced housekeeper. 
 
 "I shall therefore feel obliged if you will inform me if you can 
 recommend Lubbins as honest, trustworthy, sober, steady person, 
 also a thoroughly good cook, sending up dinners in good style for 
 eighteen or twenty, and in her every-day dinners attentive to send up 
 nicely ; understands soups well, made dishes, sweets, and confectionery. 
 The head gardener makes the ices. I am particular in inquiring about 
 soups, as we require them daily and good. Indeed, we want every- 
 thing good, as we keep a great deal of company, and that good. May 
 I ask if Lubbins does her own work fairly and well, not trusting too 
 much to the kitchen-maids, of which we keep two, besides a dairy- 
 maid, who helps on emergencies. I should like to have Lubbins' s last 
 character, if you have it. 
 
 "I am, madam, yours truly, 
 
 "Letitja Watktns. 
 
 *' An early answer is requested." 
 
 It will be observed that in this document Mrs. Watkins speaks of 
 "wy establishment," ignoring friend "Willy until she comes to the 
 eating part of the inquiry, and that was pretty much the way she 
 treated him on all occasions, hitching him in as a sort of contingent, 
 and because she thought it looked better to have a man with her than 
 to go bowling about the country with her daughter alone. Willy, 
 however, always had to sit with his back to the horses. Besides 
 eating, dressing, and, as Independent Jimmy said, "brushin' his hair," 
 Willy had no sort of occupation. He neither farmed, nor gardened, 
 nor hunted (except he couldn't help it), nor coursed, nor shot, nor 
 walked, nor rode. He read as little as possible. He said it was bad 
 for the eyes. Willy, poor, empty-headed Willy ! was thrown on 
 Aress and equipage as hi& only resource. He got himself up elabo- 
 rately every day — not in what is called the " ditto " style, coat, waist- 
 coat, and trousers all of a piece, but in the colour-matching, colour- 
 
MR. AND MRS. WILLY WATKINS AND MISS WATKINS. 129 
 
 choosing, cut-varying, velvet-facing, silk-lining order of former times. 
 This changing with the season, coupled with an extensive wardrobe, 
 enabled him to appear differently every day. Now in a fine tightly.- 
 fitting surtout, with white vest and bloodstone buttons; next in a 
 red-and-yellow-ribboned deer -stalker hat, with a tie to match, silk- 
 velvet shooting-jacket, white flannel-looking trousers, turned up at 
 the ancles to show his red stockings and Balmoral boots. His dressing- 
 room was like a museum. Every species of coat, costume, and raiment 
 that could be devised, varied with skull-caps, slippers, and dressing- 
 gowns without end. He dressed four times a day. Morning deshabille, 
 Turkish trousers and dressing-gown; luncheon, a sort of etching of 
 what he was to come out after ; then, grand costume for the carriage- 
 drive ; after which, full or moderate evening attire, according as they 
 had company or not. And as they paced the weary turnpike-roads, 
 the pompous grey horses propounding their magnanimous legs with 
 the true airing action, the whole party thought they were the envy 
 and admiration of the world. They little knew what the Inde- 
 pendent Jimmies said of them. 
 
 Such swells coming into the country, sporting two crests and a 
 portentous coat-of-arms on their carriage, the man swell giving his 
 £100 a-year to the hounds, were sure to get into a certain society; 
 but the neighbours, having mastered the Watkins' establishment, 
 gradually withdrew from the plate, linen, and china contest, and 
 the longer the "Watkinses lived at Dalberry Lees the less they were 
 visited. Lubbins had very little to do — very few " uproars," as 
 she elegantly called parties, to provide. Each fresh dinner was only 
 a repetition of the last, and people got tired of the same thing over 
 and over again. That is the case in most countries. Bailways 
 have gone far to annihilate that sort of society. London now has 
 f he monopoly. 
 
 At this juncture came the Eomfords. Mr. Eomford, a single 
 man — master of hounds — living at Lord Lovetin's — enough to 
 stamp him with respectability ; Beldon Hall, just a nice drive 
 from Dalberry Lees. And there was Miss "Watkins, a charming 
 young lady, longing to be settled, with a most enterprising mamma 
 to guide her in the right course. Mrs. Watkins saw her oppor- 
 tunity, and determined to improve it. She knew that by dashing at 
 the new comer she might gain an ascendency that it would be 
 difficult to dispossess her of; and, moreover, appearing to be inti • 
 mate, might ward off invidious detraction, which it is always 
 desirable to do. So they brought out their cards to call at LVldon 
 Hall at the earliest possible moment — rather, indeed, as it happened, 
 
 K, 
 
180 MK. YACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 before Mr. Romford -was ready to receive them; though, if they had 
 waited for that event, they would never have got there at all. Facej 
 did not hoist the flag of reception, though there was one attached to 
 the dome of the house. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 TnE MOEXING CALL. 
 
 It was a fine bright winter's day, slightly inclining to frost, that 
 our friends at Dalberry Lees, having taken an early lunch and got 
 themselves up with extra care, stepped into their well-appointed 
 London barouche, to shed their cards at Beldon Hall. The greys had 
 on new rosettes. Spanker, the swell coachman, sported a well-curled 
 wig, and John Thomas showed his quivering calves in pink silk gauze. 
 Mrs. and Miss were radiant ; Mrs. all ermine and feathers, Miss ex- 
 hibiting a grand floricultural trophy on her head, the produce of her 
 great London milliner, Madame Mirabel Marvellouslongbille, of Upper 
 Grosvenor Street. 
 
 Country calling requires a good deal more tact and consideration 
 than it does in London, where ten minutes will make up the difference 
 anywhere, and people get nothing but a grin or a shake of the hands 
 when they come. First, there is the distance to be considered ; then 
 the state of the roads ; next, perhaps, the state of the horses. Then 
 comes the grand question, — to lunch or not to lunch ; for if you don't 
 mean to lunch, the call should be postponed till such a time as to 
 prevent any mistake as to your intentions, else you may have the lady 
 ringing the bell, and without giving an order letting you in for a 
 second lunch, whether you will or not; a penance only to be equalled 
 by that of a second breakfast at a lawn meet. "Well, then, if you don't 
 lunch, there is the second calculation as to whether the time of year 
 will allow of your getting there and back before dark, with the state 
 of the roads, the state of the horses, — the old subject over again. Put 
 ladies' horses can do anything, so here let the Watkinses go. Let ua 
 suppose them in and away. 
 
 Spanker, the coachman, tired of the six miles an hour monotony of 
 airing, seemed glad of an excuse for springing his horses, and put tliem 
 over the intervening miles in double-quick time. Gasper, the road- 
 man, who worked by the day and spent half his time in gossiping with 
 
THE MORNING CALL. 131 
 
 the passers-by, wondered what had happened. He had never seen the 
 Lees folk, as he called them, having some doubt of their quality, in 
 such a hurry before. 
 
 Arrived at the still pipe-decorated lodges, the opposing gates flew 
 open with the rapidity due to such an exalted equipage, and the greys 
 were coaxed into a canter against the now rising ground. 
 
 Mr. "Willie Watkins looked at his watch to see that they were not 
 anticipating the revised dress of the Romford footmen, and Mrs. and 
 Miss began feeling their hair, adjusting their gloves, and arranging 
 their company faces. They were presently under the portico of the 
 front door. John Thomas, who, like all the Watkins' men, was a 
 London servant (working-up a lost character in the country), having 
 alighted from his seat, rang an amazing peal at the bell, and was 
 instantly alongside the carriage for orders, in anticipation of an imme- 
 diate outburst of servants, — butler, groom of the chamber, foot- 
 men, &c. 
 
 " Mrs. Somerville," said Mrs. "Watkins, calmly, slightly removing 
 the rich sable coverlid from her side of the carriage, as if to get out. 
 But John Thomas stood listening at the hall-door, like a terrier at a rat- 
 hole, without receiving any internal response to his summons. The fact 
 was, these were the first , callers the Romford s had had, and nobodv 
 seemed to know what to do. If the master and mistress were not at 
 home, however, it was clear the servants were, for a bunch of un- 
 cropped, Friezeland hen -like heads were seen clustering in a second • 
 floor window of the opposite wing, after the manner of well-conducted 
 establishments. These, we need scarcely say, were the Dirties, — 
 Dirty No, 1, Dirty ]S"o. 2, and Dirtiest of the Dirty, — who all seemed 
 more bent on admiring the unwonted equipage than desirous of afford- 
 ing the inmates of it any information. Thus they talked ; — 
 
 Dirty No. 2.—" Can it be for us ? " 
 
 Dirtiest of the Dirty. — " Wonder who it is." 
 
 Dirty No. I.—" Oh ! those Watkins folks." 
 
 Dirty No. 2. — " jNo doubt come to look after the Squire;" 
 meaning Mr. Romford. 
 
 " Better ring again," at length muttered the coachman, who saw 
 what was passing in front ; and forthwith John Thomas gave another 
 astonishing peal, that almost pulled the bell-handle out of the socket. 
 
 This scattered the Dirties ; and Lucy — Mrs. Somerville — who had 
 whipped a pair of stockings, on which she was engaged, into an 
 ottoman at the first alarm, now met the flying group in the back 
 passage, and rallying them while censuring their flight, she desired 
 that one of them would go and open the door directly. 
 
132 HE. FACEY ROMFORD'S HOUNDS. 
 
 And as on this occasion Dirtiest of the Dirty being again the cleanest 
 of the three, she went circling along in her palpable hoops, showing 
 iier well-shaped legs as she went. She opened the door, and exhibited 
 herself in its portals. 
 
 But that she was pretty, John Thomas would have felt rather 
 demeaned at being thus confronted with a female. As it was, he looked 
 benignly at her, and said, with a simpering smile, 
 
 " Missis at 'ome, Miss ?" 
 
 And Dirtiest of the Dirty, having no orders to the contrary, and not 
 exactly understanding the meaning of the term, dropped a curtsey, 
 and incontinently answered "Yes;" whereupon John Thomas re- 
 approached the carriage to liberate the party, instead of taking the 
 cards, which they had been sorting in full expectation of a different 
 answer. Out got Willy, followed by the ladies, piloting their petti- 
 coats, to the admiration of the remaining Dirties, who had again 
 congregated at the opposite window. 
 
 Oh, what fine ladies the Dirties thought them, and how they 
 envied their smart clothes. 
 
 Our visitors looked rather disconcerted at the escort, but attributing 
 tbe deficiency to the confusion of shifting, they followed Dirtiest of the 
 Dirty across the lofty black and white marble-floored hall, through the 
 vestibule, to the breakfast-room, where Lucy, nothing loath to see 
 what was up, had subsided at an elegant work-table, with a strip of 
 book -muslin in her hand. 
 
 "The ladies," now said Dirtiest of the Dirty, opening the door; 
 and forthwith Lucy arose, and with a profound stage curtsey to each, 
 welcomed mother and daughter, and then, with a somewhat slighter 
 curtsey and a graceful waive of her right hand, indicated a couple of 
 advanced chairs, on which she begged they would be seated. 
 
 "Mister Watkixs" now announced Mrs. "Watkins, slowly and 
 distinctly bringing her flash man forward, so that there might be no 
 mistake as to who they were. And Lucy gave a still a more modi- 
 fied curtsey to him, and begged that he too would take a chair. All 
 four having thus at length got themselves seated, Mrs. Watkins adjusted 
 her fine lace-fringed kerchief, and arranged her company-smile for a 
 task. 
 
 It is a great advantage to have trod the stage — to have played at 
 kings and queens. It gives people wonderful composure under com- 
 pany circumstances. But for Lucy's experience that way, she might 
 have felt rather awkward in the presence of two such highly-dressed 
 ladies, she only in a plain semi-mourning costume, waited upon by a 
 woman — " Mamma," we may say, was busy baking, and did not 
 
G*VV 
 
THE MOBNIKG CALL. 133 
 
 show. Still Lucy's quiet, graceful manner, coupled with her aristocratic 
 residence, completely deceived Mrs. Watkins, and deprived the latter 
 of her usual condescending patronage, making her think that Lucy 
 was a person to look up to. So, instead of bringing out her Court 
 card of the greatest personage she knew, as people in the country 
 generally do, or talking about the splendour of Dalberry Lees, she 
 began toadying, and apologising for this early intrusion on the score 
 of their anxiety to be the first to pay their respects to Mrs. Somer- 
 ville; all of which Lucy received with great propriety, and many 
 bows and thanks for their neighbourly consideration. They then 
 indulged in a slight dissertation on the weather — in the course of which 
 Lucy considered whether to offer them any luncheon, but thinking 
 they looked like people who could eat at any time, and recollecting 
 the dilapidated state of the establishment — nothing but Dirties — she 
 wisely refrained, and entered with great glee on that safe, sure-footed 
 subject of the climate, hoping the fine weather might continue, frost and 
 snow were so very disagreeable — particularly snow, which put an end to 
 everything, and mode the country like a great prison. The snow ques- 
 tion soon brought them to the subject of hunting, and Mrs. Watkins 
 continuing her toadyism at high pressure, by expressing their great 
 delight with having got Mr. Romford to take the hounds — the country 
 was so dull without them — for though, she said, Mr. Watkins only 
 hunted for conformity, still it was a great advantage to everybody 
 having hounds, not only in showing sport to the gentlemen who liked 
 to have their faces scratched, but in promoting sociality, balls and 
 parties, and making everything pleasant. 
 
 To this Lucy, who knew Facey's forte was not capering in a ball- 
 room, made no reply ; but Mrs. Watkins followed up the charge briskly 
 by saying, she supposed Mr. Romford had an excellent set of dogs. 
 
 Lucy said he had, and spared no expense in procuring them. And 
 Mrs. "Watkins heard he was an excellent sportsman too. Lucy replied 
 that he was. 
 
 And now, Mrs. Watkins having laid a foundation of flattery, pro • 
 ceeded to raise a superstructure of inquisitiveness upon it. She hoped 
 Mrs. Somerville was going to stay among them. Indeed, she didn't 
 Bee how Mr. Romford could do without her, though Mrs. Watkins 
 inwardly thought he would do much better with her beautiful daughter 
 Cassandra Cleopatra. Lucy parried this home-thrust, by saying that she 
 would most likely stay till she saw her brother comfortably settled — an 
 answer thai; might involve any period of time, seeing that the comfort 
 is so much a matter of opinion. Some people might think the West- 
 end Swell comfortable; others, again, might require the elegancies of. 
 
134 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 the Clarendon or of the Lord "Warden at Dover, before they returned a 
 verdict to that effect. 
 
 ""Well, but as the -winter was so far advanced," observed Mrs. 
 "Watkins, returning again to the charge, " Mrs. Somerville would most 
 likely stay it out." 
 
 Lucy couldn't say. It would depend a good deal upon the weather. 
 
 " Was she afraid of cold ? " 
 
 "!Not particularly," replied Lucy, "only the country is always 
 colder than the town." 
 
 " But this seems a warm, comfortable house," observed Mrs. Watkins, 
 Jooking round the well-furnished room. "Had they taken it for any 
 length of time?" 
 
 " Lucy couldn't tell ; didn't know whether it was a lease, a loan, or 
 what it was ; Mr. Romford and Lord Lovetin had managed the matter 
 between them." 
 
 "His lordship's a peculiar man, I th'osse," now lisped miss, who, at 
 one time, thought she might perchance be Lady Lovetin. 
 
 "Is he?" said Lucy, who did not feel at all inclined to lead the 
 charge against their noble landlord. 
 
 " Oh, very," assented mamma ; " quite a recluse. " Does he lock 
 up all the things, and just let you have the bare walls ? " 
 
 " Oh, no," replied Lucy ; " we have whatever we want." 
 
 " Ah, then Mr. Romford will be a friend," suggested Mrs. Watkins — 
 " Mr. Eomford will be a friend. I know a party who wanted to take 
 the place, and his lordship would hardly let them have anything for 
 their money — wanted to be paid extra for everything." 
 
 " Indeed," said Lucy; " he's quite different with us — I mean with 
 my brother. He has all he wants, and more." 
 
 "It's a good houth, I th'osse?" lisped Cassandra Cleopatra. 
 
 "Very," assented Lucy; adding, "would you like to "see it ?" 
 
 Miss would, and so would mamma — the latter particularly, for, 
 independently of the natural taste all ladies have for seeing over 
 houses, she wanted to see what servants they had. So Lucy, handing 
 Mr. "Watkins last week's "Bell's Life" (Facey's sole instructor,) to 
 amuse himself with during their absence, opened the door and awaj 
 they floated on the grand tour of the house — up-stairs and down-stairs 
 and in my lady's chamber. Whatever Mrs. Watkins saw that was 
 fine, she determined to have at Dalberry Lees. 
 
 Meanwhile friend Eomford, who was busily engaged cleaning hie 
 gun in his shirt-sleeves in the butler's pantry down below, was sorely 
 put out by the repeated rings at the door bell, and severely objurgated 
 all the Dirties for letting the callers in, telling them, as he met them 
 
THE MORNING CALL. 135 
 
 on the wing after the mischief, always to say that they were "not at 
 home" when anybody came. And he then returned to his former 
 occupation, now wishing the Watkinses were gone, now wondering 
 why they came, next dreading lest they might eat his dinner for 
 luncheon, then thinking how he came to miss his last woodcock that 
 morning. "It was that confounded mountain-ash in the way," 
 said he. 
 
 In the midst of his specidations the rustle of robes and the sound 
 of female voices came softened down below, and, listening attentively, 
 friend Facey distinctly heard Lucy's voice pioneering the marauders. 
 "This is the servants' hall," said she, " and beyond it is the butler's 
 pantry," the voice advancing that way. 
 
 " And, rot it, they're comin'," said he, depositing his gun and ram- 
 rod on the table, and making bis escape by the opposite door. He 
 got into the still-room — no still room, however, for him, for the voices 
 presently approached that door, driving him into the housekeeper's- 
 room, from whence there was no escape save through the scullery and 
 up by the coal -cellar grate. Determined not to be caught — especially 
 in his shirt-sleeves — he dashed valiantly at the iron bars, and, mis- 
 taking the side of the cellars, crawled outright in front of the Watkins' 
 horses' heads, to the astonishment of Mr. Spanker and the magnificent 
 footman, who at first thought it was the long-expected ale-jug coming. 
 Not being, however, easily disconcerted, friend Facey just asked them, 
 in a careless indifferent sort of way, if they had seen a rat come up, 
 und, being answered in the negative, he turned in again at a side door 
 as if nothing particular had happened, the Watkins's men wondering 
 if it was the gardener, or who it could be. 
 
 The ladies, having at length completed their tour, dairy, pantry, 
 larder and all, began to arrange their features for farewell. Mrs. 
 Watkins considering whether she should offer Mrs. Somerville her 
 hand, or wait for Mrs. Somerville to tender hers; Mrs. Somerville 
 i hinking how to get them out of the house without an irruption of 
 Dirties to show them the way. The "VVatkinses then recollected that 
 ihey hadn't got Willy, so, returning to the breakfast-room, they found 
 that worthy in the act of examining his side hair minutely in the 
 mantelpiece mirror. "Come, Willy, come!" cried the imperious 
 dame, and forthwith Willy relinquished the arrangement of his locks, 
 .:nd proceeded to recover his hat. That gained, Mrs. Watkins assumed 
 i:is arm, and, thus fortified, then came the terrible conflict about the 
 iidieu. Whether 'twere nobler to make a curtsey and move on, or go 
 in boldly for a shake of the hand. Momentous question ! 
 
 That little ceremony has caused many a cooluess — a coolness with 
 
136 MR. FACEY ROMFQKD's HOUNDS. 
 
 some if you don't offer it, a coolness with others if you do. Mrs. 
 Watkins would like to shake hands, but then came the terrible bugbear 
 of the cold shoulder. She would like to get a footing at Beldon Hall, 
 if it were only for the sake of Cassandra, but then, which was the 
 likeliest way to obtain one. 
 
 In the midst of this dilemma, and just when the case seemed hope- 
 less — the theatrical lady knowing the right time better than Mrs. 
 Watkins did — having got them to the room door, released the easy 
 fold of her arms and tendered her hand to madame, who grasped it 
 with fervour. There is a great deal of significance in the shake of a 
 hand. Miss quickly followed suit, and then Willy closed the affair 
 by offering his and bowing himself out of the room. Mrs. Somerville 
 gave a random ring at the bell, more for the sake of the sound than in 
 hopes that any of the Dirties would show themselves to open the hall- 
 door. And Facey, having planted himself at the window of observa- 
 tion lately occupied by the Mustards, saw the visitors depart, observing 
 to himself as Miss settled into her seat in the carriage, " Not a bad 
 looking lass that." He then ran into the larder to see what damage 
 they had done to the meat, and finding all right, he went to discuss 
 the visitors with Lucy. "What she said, what they said, all how and 
 about it; in fact Facey thought the " Somerville" dodge would do. 
 
 But he couldn't have any callers admitted — might ring as much as 
 they liked at the bell, and leave their cards in any quantities ; but 
 coming in was quite out of the question, quite another pair of shoes. 
 And, by way of checking the expected influx, he presently set up a 
 garden-rake, which he kept behind the Indian screen in the entrance- 
 hall, wherewith he used to recreate himself by raking the gravel 
 before the front-door, so that he could tell whether there had been 
 anybody there or not. 
 
 Let us, however, now attend to the departing visitors. 
 
 Well, Spanker having piloted his party safe off the premises, and 
 Mrs. Watkins having conned matters over in her own mind, came to 
 the conclusion that it would be well to look knowing ; accordingly, 
 without consulting Willy, she uttered the homsward route, telling the 
 coachman to drive by Peasmeadow Park, in order that she might show 
 off before Mrs. Clapperclaw, a lady with a great determination of 
 words to the mouth. She was at home ; and, the usual salutations 
 over, with a short cut at the weather, Mrs. Watkins opened fire 
 briskly — for Mrs. Clapperclaw's clock was twenty minutes too fast — ■ 
 by saying, " Well, they had been to Beldon Hall, and seen Mrs. 
 Somerville, — really a very nice sort of person — not above thirty or 
 five-and- thirty years of age" — (this was an exaggeration, for Lucy 
 
THE MORNING CALL. 137 
 
 was then only twenty-nine) — " evidently used to the test (dressed) 
 society , Mr. Romford was not in ; but the hounds had come, and 
 would hunt — Monday, Ashley Law ; Tuesday, Thorney Eow ; Friday. 
 Pippin Priory ; Saturday — she forgot where." 
 
 Indeed, it would not have been much matter if she had forgotten 
 them all. for Monday, as we shall presently see, was Pippin Priory, and 
 the other two places were transposed. All meets, however, are alike 
 to the ladies, save at their own houses. 
 
 "With regard to the establishment and prospects of gaiety, Mrs. 
 Watkins could give no very satisfactory information. No doubt 
 Mr. Pomford was a friend of Lord Lovetin, and seemed to have 
 complete control of the place ; but the Mustards were all the servants 
 the Watkinses saw, though there might be others elsewhere, or coming. 
 If Mr. Rornford lived there as a bachelor, he might not entertain ; but 
 if Mrs. Somerville remained, there was no reason why they shouldn't 
 give calls and take a prominent part in the festivities of the country. 
 Indeed, Mrs. "Watkins observed, that, to her mind, entertaining and 
 promoting conviviality was one of the principal uses of a master of 
 hounds ; for, as to the mere scampering over the country after a parcel 
 of dogs, — getting their faces scratched and their clothes torn, she 
 didn't believe that one man in ten who went out really cared for it — 
 she was sure Mr. "Watkins did not : indeed, nobody knew how unhappy 
 he always was the night before hunting. " Nothing but a high sense 
 of duty," Mrs. "Watkins was sure, " could induce him to go out." 
 And Willy, who knew that doctrine wasn't the ticket, kept frowning 
 at his imperious wife while she delivered the opinion. " Tou know 
 it's a fact, "W.," said she, turning upon him with the effrontery of a 
 brow-beating counsel; and, as there were none but ladies present, 
 rather than have an argument, "Willy admitted that he did not care 
 much about it. 
 
 Mrs. Watkins — having thus delivered her budget, and sipped her 
 second glass of sherry — began to feel at her crinoline ; and Miss doing 
 the same, mamma caught at the first pause in the conversation to arise ; 
 and, after much grinning, and handling, and teeth-showing, the explor- 
 ing party retired, and " Home " was the word, for Dalberry Lees. 
 
 Then Mrs. Clapperclaw — who dearly loved to be knowing — having 
 digested all Mrs. "Watkins had said, presently "three-black-crowed" 
 the information, by telling Mrs. Marcus Sompting, the next caller, 
 that there were going to be grand doings at Beldon Hall. That Mr. 
 Pomford was a gay young bachelor, with a dashing widow sister, 
 ttdio doubtless would keep the game a-going, and contribute very 
 materially to the enlivenment of Doubleimupshire. And the new? 
 
138 mr. facey romfoed's hounds. 
 
 flew with great rapidity, and caused very general satisfaction, for the 
 natives wanted stirring up sadly. Indeed, for long they had had nothing 
 to do hut ahuse each other, which becomes tiresome after a time. It 
 is marvellous how country people hate, and yet hug one another ! 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 KR. ROMTORD's DEBCTT IN DOCRLEnnTPSHIRE. 
 
 That first impressions are everything is a truism that more people 
 are ready to admit than to act up to ; else how can we account for so- 
 many ladies disporting themselves in London in their old attire instead 
 of waiting quietly till their new things come home from the milliners, 
 thus stamping themselves as dowdies in the minds of their friends for 
 the rest of the season. Who can expect that last great act of social 
 fellowship — walking down St. James' Street, arm in arm with a swell 
 — if he is not properly attired for the critical occasion. 
 
 Many a man has been turned adrift at the Piccadilly crossings 
 without knowing the reason why. 
 
 Mr. Romford's debut with the Larkspur hunt, in Doubleimupshire, 
 was very different to what it was with the Heavyside one. Instead 
 of the old pen-wipcr-looking scarlet with its strong characteristic 
 aroma of James's horse blister, he sported a smart new " Tick coat," 
 built on the semi-frock principle of the simpering gentleman sitting 
 on the wooden horse in the tailor's shop-window in Regent Street ; 
 and though Hammond and Bartley rejected his orders, other less 
 eminent artistes, as we said before, were only too happy to execute 
 them. 
 
 " Francis Romford, Esq., at the Right Honourable Lord Viscount 
 Lovetin's, Beldon Hall, Doubleimupshire," looked well on the new deal 
 packing-cases standing conspicuously at their shop doors. So, what with 
 Lucy's — that is, Mrs. Somerville's — orders to London tradesmen, and 
 I'acey's favours in the sporting and general way, Independent Jimmy 
 was constantly leaving something or other at Beldon Hall lodge — new 
 saddles, new bridles, new dresses, new boots, new bonnets, new every- 
 thing. It is of no use people stinting themselves when they are not 
 going to pay for what they get. 
 
 At length all the orders, all the coats, and boots, and breeches, all 
 tbe Goodhearted Green exertions, culminated in the throwing-off point, 
 
SIR. ROMFORD'S DEBUT IN DOUBLEIMUPSHIRE. 139 
 
 and the Larkspur hunt was about to be revived under the auspices of 
 the renowned Mr. Romford. 
 
 Swig and Chowey were severely admonished as to their drinking 
 propensities, — told that if they ever transgressed again, they should 
 not only have the full weight of Mr. Romford's right arm, the biceps 
 muscle of which he invited them to feel, but that he would spend a 
 whole golden sovereign in paper and postage stamps, to write to every 
 master of hounds in the kingdom, cautioning them against engaging 
 two such offenders. And, by dint of big talk, Facey made them believe 
 lie was a very great man, and capable of demolishing them entirely. 
 
 And Mrs. Somerville, who understood stage effect, and the advan- 
 tage of uniformity, saw that Swig and Chowe}- were properly dressed, 
 clean shaved, clean white cravats, good gloves, and well put on well 
 polished boots, which, with their new London caps and coats, made 
 them look as unlike themselves — as unlike the remnants of men that 
 they were when Mr. Romford picked them up at Tattersalls, as could 
 possibly be. 
 
 Facey, too, was very fine — very different to what he was when he 
 mounted the Dragon of "Wautley, to take his first day with the 
 Heavyside hounds. He was not only well dressed, but he had lost a 
 good deal of the shaggy Lion "Wallace appearance he had about the 
 face, by judicious trimming and polling. Then his clothes were quite 
 unexceptionable, for if a man will only employ good London trades- 
 men, they will always take care that he doesn't make a guy of himself. 
 All he then has to do is, to put them on properly. 
 
 And when they were all mounted, Romford on the magnificent Pull- 
 Devil-Pull-Laker, late Placid Joe ; Swig riding Everlasting ; and 
 Chowey oh Perfection, the nutmeg-coloured grey, with the pencliant 
 for carriages, the blooming well-conditioned pack of hounds around 
 them, they really looked remarkably well, — thanks to "Tick" and 
 their other numerous friends and benefactors. Thus, with eighteen 
 couple of picked hounds, Mr. Romford set off to undergo the scrutiny 
 of the assembled science of the Larkspur Hunt. 
 
 Trot trot, bump bump, trot trot, they went — Facey thinking if 
 Swig and Chowey looked so well, what must he do ; new hat, new 
 coat, new everything — besides being such a good-looking fellow. Oh! 
 for a good line of plate-glass windows to admire himself in. He felt 
 as if he had lit on his legs. And in the exuberance of spirit he 
 chucked Tony Parker, the pikeman at Bewley side-bar, a shilling, 
 without ever asking what the toll was. 
 
 Tony picked it up, saying as he did it, " Kow that's a real gemmau. 
 that is." 
 
140 MR. FACET POMFOSD's HOUNDS. 
 
 The meet was at Pippin Priory, the elegant mansion of Mr. Joseph 
 Large, who having taken a prominent part in the resuscitation of the 
 Larskpur Hunt, under Mr. Romford's auspices, was well entitled to 
 have the first show-off of the new establishment, on the verdant lawn 
 before his gaudy house. 
 
 Mr. Large was not a sportsman, nor yet a regular Doubleimupshire 
 squire, being nothing more nor less than a tea-pot-handle maker — a 
 great tea-pot -handle maker — carrying on business both in London and 
 Birmingham. And, though it seems a curious trade, yet, if we con- 
 sider the enormous number of people there are with tea-pots^each, of 
 course, with a handle — and how few men there are in the handle- 
 making line [we question if the reader ever met with one before], it is 
 no wonder he made a good thing of it. Joseph was rich — very rich : 
 we wish we could give the reader an adequate idea of his riches, but 
 he kept all his balance-sheets to himself, not even showing them to 
 beloved Mrs. Large. He did not go about saying "I am the great Mr. 
 Large, with a redundancy of money ;" but if any body were mentioned 
 who was not in similar circumstances, he would say, with a scornful, 
 up-turned lip, " Poor man — very poor man. Could buy him fifty 
 times over — a hundred, if that was all." 
 
 Singular enough, Large was a good deal of the tea-pot build himself, 
 being short and squat, with a very sallow complexion, and a stiff row 
 of black curls round his otherwise bald head, somewhat resembling a 
 coachman's wig. It was hard to say whether his vulgar, vacant face 
 or his great sticking-out stomach was the most offensive ; for he used 
 to bring the latter to bear upon one in the most arrogant way, as much 
 as to say, "There! there's a stomach with good fat capon lined! 
 Match it if you can ! " 
 
 Young Large — Joseph Bolingbroke, as he was magnificently called 
 — was the exact counterpart of his father, barring the disparity of 
 years, and that he had a full crop of curly black hair instead of the 
 ivory-like apex of papa. He also sported a moustache, and had 
 whiskers extending all round the chin up to the mouth. He was 
 quite as purse-proud, though still not so good a man as his father, for 
 he would have nothing to do with hunting, having, indeed, been 
 trundled off both fore and aft; so papa, who had a very exalted 
 opinion of the advantages of the chace, was obliged to do the dangerous 
 both for self and son. It was hard upon the old boy, who, the 
 reader will see, was not at all adapted for the sport ; but pride feels 
 no pain, and he went at it like a man — not horse — tight boots, round 
 legs, wash-ball seat and all. He had been an ardent supporter of 
 Mr. Romford, fully believing he was the turbot-on-its-tail, and think- 
 
me. romford's debut in doubleimupshire. 141 
 
 ing that Romford might be useful in getting Bolingbroke into that 
 high society wherein he could pick up a nobleman's daughter, a 
 connection with the peerage being the height of the teapot-handle 
 maker's ambition. 
 
 So now he was going to reap the first fruit of his patriotism, by 
 entertaining the new master at a grand hunt breakfast at Pippin, or 
 Pipkin Priory, as, of course, the wags called it, a spacious Elizabethan 
 mansion built of yellow brick, with bands and arches of red ditto. It 
 stood on a gently rising eminence, well sheltered at the back and sides 
 by a judicious mixture of evergreen trees and oaks. It had been the 
 site of an old Hall house, though, of course not a quarter the size it is 
 now. 
 
 There had been a great gathering of fowls, and hunting of eggs, and 
 coaxings of cream in the immediate neighbourhood, and now the thing 
 was to get people to come in and partake of the feast so provided. The 
 hunt, we may say, had been divided between the merits of Mr. Rom- 
 ford and those of that popular sportsman, Mr. Jovey Jessop, and some 
 of the malcontents showed their displeasure at the choice by remain- 
 ing outside. Indeed Mr. Romford would much have preferred staying 
 with his hounds, but both Lucy and her mamma had charged him 
 to go in and make himself agreeable to the ladies, especially to Mrs. 
 Large, assuring him that all women liked attention. 
 
 So, when the gaudy green and gold Johnny came tripping over the 
 lawn, taking care of his stockings, to summon him inside, Facey sur- 
 rendered his horse to a servant, and left the hounds in charge of old 
 Swig. It was a dangerous move; for ere Facey' s substantial form 
 dakened the Priory portico, a white-aproned man was seen fluttering 
 along the yew-tree walk, bearing a sort of hen and chickens in the 
 shape of a black bottle, with a brood of little wine-glasses clustering 
 around on a tray. At first sight Swig's good resolution said "No." 
 "No !" it should be "Ko, no, I thank you sir," at least, as became 
 the ci-devant servant of an Earl. But as the white-aproned man turned 
 out of the walk by the little green gate, the jingle of the wine-glasses 
 sounded rather too musically on Swig's ear, and looking at the tray, 
 he saw some biscuits upon it. Taking a biscuit could do him no harm, 
 he thought ; so he suffered the tempter to approach him. 
 
 "Good niornin', Mr. Swig," said the man; for the aphorism that 
 "more people know Tom Fool than Tom Fool knows," holds par- 
 ticularly good as regards huntsmen and field servants. " Good mornin', 
 Mr. Swig," said he, in the confident tone of a man who feels sure of a 
 welcome. 
 
 " Mornin'," said Swig, still riding the good-horse Resolution. 
 
142 MR. FACEY ROMFORD'S HOUNDS. 
 
 "Take a dram this morning?" continued the footman, balancing 
 the tray on one hand, while he took the silver -headed stopper out of 
 the bottle with the other. 
 
 He was now close up against Swig's horse's shoulder, and the aroma 
 of the gin (for it was that beautiful beverage) mounted most generously 
 up to the Swig snub-nose. This was too much for the veteran. 
 Daniel ! the Eight Honourable the Hurl of Scamperdale's Daniel ! 
 couldn't resist it. 
 
 "Just a thimbleful," said he, as the servant began trickling the gin 
 out of the full bottle into the clear glass. " Nay, man, that's a glass !" 
 exclaimed Daniel, more in pleasure than in anger. Nevertheless, he 
 quaffed it off, saying, as he raised it to his lips, " Sir, I looks towards 
 you ; " meaning thereby that he Avas drinking the man's health. 
 
 Chowey then unscrewed his proboscis, and took his dram down 
 without any emotion. 
 
 Thus fortified, the two turned to the hounds, and gave them a brisk 
 cheerful sweep down the Park, returning, like moths, to the gin 
 candle up above, and they then took another thimbleful each. 
 
 But we must now follow friend Pacey, who has got among the 
 Philistines in the house. 
 
 There was a great gathering inside, for Mr. Large looked upon a 
 grand breakfast as part of the ceremony of the hunt ; and friend Pacey, 
 having been duly eased of his hat, whip, and gloves in the entrance 
 hall, and run his fingers through his hair, was presently at the lofty 
 mahogany-door of the dining-room. 
 
 " Mr. Pomford, I think ?" said the obsequious butler, turning half 
 round as he laid hold of the ivory handle. 
 
 " Mr. Pomford it is," said Pacey, in a tone that as good as said, 
 " Can there be any doubt on the point ? " 
 
 The door then opened, disclosing a goodly assemblage of ladies and 
 gentlemen, all apparently busy on masticating enjoyments, but still 
 keeping a disengaged eye for the new comer. 
 
 "Me. Pomfokd," now announced the butler in a clear, sonorous 
 voice, to our bald-headed host, as he sat with his back to the door; 
 whereupon up jumped the teapot-handle maker, with his mouth full of 
 ham, and, getting Pacey by the hand, proceeded to give him a most 
 spluttering welcome, working him up the room towards his wife as he 
 went. 
 
 " Mr. Pomford, my dear," gasped he, as he got him there ; where- 
 upon the well-developed matron, all gorgeous in peach -coloured, lace- 
 bedizened rnoire-antiipie and jewellery, half arose from her chair, and 
 smiled him into a scat on her right, that had evidently been reserved 
 
MR. ROMFORD S DESUT I?) DOUBLEBIUPSHIRE. 143 
 
 for the hero of the day. Friend Facey having got himself settled, 
 then cast one roguish eye at her, the other glancing down the table, to 
 see what sort of a set he had got amongst. He thought they would 
 do. 
 
 " "Will you take tea or coffee ? " now asked Mrs. Joseph Large, who 
 seemed well primed with both, having great further tea capabilities in 
 the richly chased silver urn before her. 
 
 Oh, Facey didn't care much about either. " Well, tea," he thought, 
 muttering something about "porridge, and one breakfast a-day serving 
 him." He then took a general survey of the table and room. Everything 
 was very fine, — plate, linen, and china ; flowers, and vases, and fruit. 
 It seemed breakfast and dinner combined. He had never seen any- 
 thing half so fine before. Wouldn't have touched his own eggs and 
 bacon if he'd known what was in store for him. He had now got his 
 tea, also sugar and cream, and the hum of conversation that had been 
 interrupted on his entry was gradually resumed, though those in the 
 immediate neighbourhood kept their ears open to hear what was said. 
 Facey having pronged a piece of breakfast-cake to avoid the persecu- 
 tion of the servants, who were now offering him everything he didn't 
 want, then bethought him of Lucy's injunctions, and proceeded to play 
 what he thought the agreeable to the hostess. 
 
 " How many children have you ? " asked he. 
 
 "Five," replied Mrs. Large. 
 
 "Five, have you (humph),— two couple and a half. How old 
 are you?" Facey eyeing her intently, as if making his own 
 calculation. 
 
 Mrs. Large was not going to answer this question, so she parried it 
 by telling the footman to hand Mr. Romford the butter. 
 
 " What's your Christian name ? " was the next question. 
 
 " Mary," replied his hostess. 
 
 " Mary (humph), — just plain Mary, is it? " 
 
 "Just Mary," assented our hostess, who did not consider herself 
 plain by any means. 
 
 The conversation then proceeded much as follows : — 
 
 Facey. — "Is this place yours, or do you rent it?" 
 
 Mrs. Large. — " Oh, it's our own." 
 
 Facey. — " Much land about it ? " 
 
 Mrs. Large. — "A good deal." 
 
 Facey. — " Two or three thousand acres, p'rap&?** 
 
 Mrs. Large. — " Perhaps." 
 
 Facey. — "Much game ?" 
 
 Mrs. Large. — "A good deal." 
 
144 mr. facey romford's hounds. 
 
 Facey. — " Is what' s-his -name — your husband there — (nodding to- 
 wards Mr. Large) nasty particular about it?" 
 
 Mrs. Large. — " "Well (hem), not more (cough) than other (hem) 
 people." 
 
 Facey. — ""Wouldn't mind one walking over it occasionally with one's 
 dog and one's gun, if it came in one's way, I s'pose ?" 
 
 The conversation or rather interrogatories were interrupted at 
 this critical point by " "What's-his-name " rising at the other end 
 of the table, and calling upon the company to fill their glasses — 
 to fill bumpers to a toast he was about to propose, for which purpose 
 the servants had been planting elegant grape-wreathed Dobson and 
 Pierce glasses at regular intervals round the table. The champagne- 
 corks now began to fly. Mr. Joseph Large, who dearly loved the 
 sound of his own voice, then opened a volley of laudatory observations 
 on friend Facey, talking of his great prowess as a sportsman, and the 
 high compliment he had paid the Larkspur gentlemen in leaving his 
 native county, with his great local influence and associations, to hunt 
 their inferior one, though Mr. Large hoped the welcome the Larkspur 
 gentlemen would give him would compensate for the sacrifice. He 
 then glanced at the great advantages of a pack of hounds in a county, 
 which he was well qualified to do, seeing that he only hunted medi- 
 cinally, and because he was told it was right. 
 
 Among the many merits of champagne may be mentioned that of its 
 tendency to cut short long-winded speeches, for no one likes to sit 
 nursing a glass of the sparkling beverage in his hand until its effer- 
 vescence subsides, and premature cries of " Your health, Mr. Romford ! 
 — your health, Mr. Romford ! " caused the speaker to conclude without 
 the cut at the Jovey Jessopites he meant to have indulged in, while 
 the clatter of the china, to get Facey up to reply, making Mrs. Large 
 feel for her cups, she at last asked Mr. Romford if he had not better 
 rise. 
 
 Then the man, " whose moother was a lady, but whose fatther was 
 a gardener," drew his Bedford cords slowly and deliberately from 
 under the table, and, having gained his utmost altitude, essayed his 
 maiden speech, amidst the most profound and anxious silence. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said he, " I'm no speaker, but I'm a sportsman — 
 (applause). If you'll let my hounds alone, and give them fair play 
 and room to hunt, I'll be bound to say I'll show you sport, but if you 
 override them — I — I — don't know what I'll do — " said he, with a 
 shake of the head, amidst a roar of laughter. " S'pose then," con- 
 tinued he, after a pause, "that we drink 'Foxhunting,' and be off to 
 itl" So saying, he drained his glass, and, pocketing his napkin, which 
 
Slid. EOMFORD S DEBUT IN DOUBLEIMUPSHIRE. 145 
 
 he thought was a present, with an outward bulge of his person towards 
 Mrs. Large, he rolled out of the room. 
 
 " He's a rum 'un," whispered one, as Facey got out of hearing. 
 
 " He is that," muttered another. 
 
 " Good sportsman," observed a third. 
 
 " Man of large pror-perty," said Mr. Large, as he felt bound to sup- 
 port him. 
 
 " Presumes upon that, perhaps," rejoined a fifth. 
 
 Then the ladies canvassed him freely. 
 
 " How old should you say he is ? " asked Mrs. Large of the company 
 generally. 
 
 "Perhaps five-and-thirty," said Mrs. Cumberledge. 
 
 " Oh, far more than that, mamma ! " exclaimed Miss Cumberledge, 
 who wished to deter Miss Agnes de Plouncey from thinking of him. 
 
 " He's such an ugly man," said Miss Agnes, going on the running- 
 down tack also. 
 
 " I shouldn't say he was ugly, Agnes," rejoined Mrs. Joseph Large 
 — " plain man, but pleasant. He has a good deal to say for himself." 
 
 " A good deal of money, I suppose," sneered Miss Cumberledge, aa 
 if she was quite above any mercenary consideration. 
 
 " He looks like a great, rich man," observed little Miss Ellerby, 
 who, pleading guilty to twenty-five (as she was in reality thirty -three), 
 *vould have had no objection to have him. 
 
 Still, notwithstanding these expressions of opinion from the few, it 
 would have been extremely difficult to arrive at any satisfactory con- 
 clusion from the many, as to Mr. Romford's character and qualifications 
 — his independent manner, coupled with his reputed vast possessions, 
 confusing, if not misleading the judgment. Here, again, if the parties 
 had only known that he was a mere hound-stealing, penniless adven- 
 turer, they would have had no hesitation whatever in the matter. 
 "Great clown," or " great lout" would have been the verdict. As it 
 was, however, they seemed rather to concur with Independent Jimmy 
 in thinking that he was not a " man of much blandishment." But 
 having seen him in the house, let us now follow him to the field, tea- 
 pot-handle maker, company, and all. 
 
 " To horse ! — to horse ! " is now the cry. 
 
CHAPTEK XXXIII. 
 
 A FICTITIOUS FOX. 
 
 Me. Facet Romford's substantial figure under the handsome portico 
 of Pippin Priory had a very salutary influence on Daniel Swig, who 
 was just trotting his hounds gaily back to the bottle, unable any longer 
 to resist its seductive influence. 
 
 He had had three glasses already, and another would in all proba- 
 bility have made him revert to the glorious days when he was the 
 " Hurl of Scamperdale's Daniel ! " to the disparagement of his service 
 with our Master. Not but that he was a great deal better done by 
 than he was with the Heavyside Hunt, but still the recollection of 
 the Hurl, and the contrast with Pacey, were sometimes too much for 
 Daniel's sensitive, excitable temperament. 
 
 Chowey, on the other hand, was more cosmopolitan in his views. 
 He was ready to praise any master with whom he had ever lived, 
 provided he thought the praise would be likely to put a shilling or 
 two in his pocket. 
 
 He, too, had done homage to the gin bottle, and between visits, had 
 been composing his extraordinary proboscis, and casting about, looking 
 at the field to see whose acquaintance he could claim, whom he could 
 compliment on a desperate leap with the Hatherstone, or remind 
 that he had seen him swim a river, like a harm of the sea, with the 
 Berkshire. "Was he as hard a rider now? Ingenious Chowey ! "Who 
 .could resist such soft sawder as that? But to our meet. 
 
 The plot had greatly thickened since Mr. Pomford entered the Priory. 
 
 Instead of the mole-catcher, the rat-catcher, the earth-stopper, the 
 man with the three-year old filly in the breaking bridle, and the usual 
 circus-like ring of pedestrians, there were groups of knowing sports- 
 men clustering here and there, following and intercepting the hounds 
 when they moved. 
 
 ""What's that hound, huntsman?" demanded a gentleman in 
 scarlet, in a very hundred-pounds-a-year sort of voice. 
 
 " "Wich, sir ? " replied Swig, with a respectful touch of his new 
 velvet cap, not knowing what the inquirer might be good for in the 
 way of a tip, when tipping time came. 
 
A FICTITIOUS POX. 147 
 
 " There, that, the lemon-pied one, just under your horse's head ! " 
 
 " Oh, that's Comforter, sir. Comforter, good dog ! " continued 
 Swig, as Comforter looked up on hearing his name. 
 
 "Ah, Comforter; by the Cottesmore Combatant, isn't he?" asked 
 the gentleman. 
 
 "No, sir; by the Burton Bellman. Bellman was by Lord Yar- 
 borough's Boisterous, Boisterous by the Cheshire Bluster, Bluster by 
 the Bedale Buster by Sir Tatton Syke's Barbarous, Barbarous by the 
 Right Honourable the Hurl of Scamperdale's Brilliant." 
 
 So Swig shut the inquirer up with a perfect torrent of fabulous 
 pedigree. 
 
 Facey, who knew what they were after as well as they did them- 
 selves, paused, and looked on with a smile at their pointings, and 
 winkings, and nudgings, feeling satisfied they could take no exception 
 to his hounds. His horses might have some little peculiarities about 
 them, but they were more mental than bodily defects, and clipping 
 and shaving did all that the most scientific, self-sufficient stud groom 
 could accomplish in the way of condition. So he came, lowering his 
 hat string, looking carefully into the crowd to see if there was any one 
 who could blow him — any one who could knock the Turbot off its 
 tail — any of the Heavysides or Gilroy set. 
 
 Dash it ! that square cut wide-buttoned coat was uncommonly like 
 Oliver Jogglebury's, thought he; so were the boots, and the legs, and 
 the action. Dashed if Facey didn't think it was Oliver. By Jove ! 
 what a go it would be if it were a nephew of old Jog's. 
 
 Just then the alarming party turned round, and in lieu of Oliver's 
 dark, almost copper-coloured face, disclosed a nearly white one, with 
 stubbly ginger whiskers, and white eyelashes. 
 
 "Thank heavens, that's all right!" gasped Mr. Bomford, now 
 relieved by the sight. " Thank heavens, that's all right ! " 
 
 But scarcely had he regained his composure, ere a pair of very 
 luxuriant, inward curling, jet-black whiskers, struck him as impossible 
 to belong to any one but Colonel Bannerman. 
 
 Couldn't be two such pairs in the world, thought Facey, and again 
 his heart mounted to his mouth, as he remembered the trifle he owed 
 the Colonel on the Derby, and how he had warranted a three-legged 
 horse to him as sound. Fortunately, however, our friend was again 
 deceived. The whiskers belonged to Mr. Bradley Smith of Ruskden, 
 a member of the Larkspur Hunt, a gentleman not in the least like the 
 blackleg Colonel. And Facey was again comforted. Fortune favoured 
 the brave, he thought, so vaulting gaily over the light palisade tbat 
 separated the green slope on which the Briory stood from the Park, 
 
 l 2 
 
]48 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 he advanced confidently towards the parti-coloured crowd — now 
 clustered about the pack — still culling and criticising their size, 
 colour, and condition. 
 
 The hounds now raised a half-melodious, half-rebellious sort of cry 
 at Swig and Chowey, as our master advanced, that as good as said, 
 " All you are only the servants that look after us, this is the boy that 
 6hows us sport." Some of the more independent then broke away 
 altogether, jumping and frolicking towards Mr. Facey. 
 
 "Gently, Blithsome! " cried our master, swinging his whip round 
 as Blithsome wiped her paws right down his fine new coat-back. 
 " Get away, you fool," added he, with a frown and stamp of his foot, 
 as if Blithsome ought to know he had got his new coat on, as well as 
 he himself did. 
 
 At this juncture, up waddled his host in a pair of excruciatingly 
 tight boots, and getting our master familiarly by the handle, proceeded 
 to push and steer him up to several groups of sportsmen, presenting 
 him to them at random. Mr. Blanton — Mr. Romford, Mr. Brogdale — ■ 
 Mr. Romford, with such rapidity, that it was utterly impossible for 
 Face-"- to follow him, so adopting the old poacher's advice to his son, 
 of always blazing into the " brown on em," he gave two or three 
 general aerial sweeps with his arm, as he kept sidling away for hia 
 horse. 
 
 A little to the left of the pack walked the magnificent " Baker," 
 late " Placid Joe," in all the pride of superlative condition, looking as 
 demure as a Quaker, and as if he had never done anything wrong. 
 He had, indeed, been greatly admired ; his size, his strength, his sub- 
 stance : and it seemed to be generally agreed that such a horse could 
 not be procured under a couple of hundred guineas. Some said three 
 hundred, but those were the boys who never gave more than thirty 
 themselves. 
 
 Then Mr. Facey having gained him, and thanked the man in charge 
 for his trouble, which was all he was in the habit of doing, he swung 
 himself into his saddle, and felt all the better for being there. Drawing 
 the thin rein he felt him lightly with his leg, and proceeded to pass 
 on to the pack. Meanwhile his host had raised fresh recruits for 
 the honour of presentation ; and the old process, Mr. Kickton — Mr. 
 Romford, Mr. Bullpig — Mr. Romford, was resumed. 
 
 At length Mr. Facey, thinking he had been sufficiently exhibited, 
 got his horse short by the head, and, halloaing to his host to know 
 what he should draw first, with Swig in advance and Chowey a little 
 behind, he moved gaily away with the glad pack now clustering and 
 frolicking around him — the presentation napkin just peeping out of 
 
A FICTITIOUS FOX. 149 
 
 his pocket as he went. There was a large field — fifty or sixty horse- 
 men, perhaps — which of course a generous public would call a hundred 
 Jessop-ites, Romford-ites, Any-thing-else-ites. And great was the 
 talk and commotion the hounds raised. It seemed to be generally 
 agreed that it was an undeniable turn-out, but some thought Facey' s 
 manners brusque, and that he did not make sufficient distinction between 
 the large subscribers and the small ones. Poor Facey couldn't tell by 
 their looks what they gave. 
 
 A lawn meet generally involves a little deception, or what Inde- 
 pendent Jimmy would call "blandishment," and Facey had to run 
 his hounds through several improbable places that had never held a 
 fox in the memory of man, and in all probability never will. Still, it 
 was part of the programme, and, of course, he conformed to it. First 
 he tried the laurel walk, and the rhododendron beds, then he went to 
 the dcodara grove, and was moving on to the summer-house hill when 
 a green and red gamekeeper came up and announced that he had seen 
 a fox sitting under the projecting ridge of Silverstream Slate Quarry. 
 This was Mr. Charley Slinker, a gentleman pretty well known in 
 gunning circles, as also in the public- house and advertising lines, being 
 constantly offering his services, either as a park-keeper, gamekeeper, 
 head or single handed, sometimes indeed descending as low as an 
 under gamekeeper, or even one who would devote himself entirety to 
 trapping. But Charley, in his glory, was the occupant of such a place 
 as he now had, living with a master who, knowing nothing about the 
 matter, listened to his stories and worried any body upon whom Slinker 
 hounded him. There is no greater mischief-maker than a second-class 
 gamekeeper. They are always hunting and frittering away character. 
 
 "Well, up came Slinker to Roniford, in manner aforesaid, and, though 
 friend Roniford thought he looked like a scamp, he accepted the infor- 
 mation, and telling him to lead the way, bid him put the fox away 
 quietly, and hold up his white hat when he was gone. Facey then 
 made a little detour with the hounds while Slinker performed his part 
 of the ceremony. And the man's manner and official position tend- 
 ing to raise hopes, all the pedestrians and several of the equestrians 
 followed to see what would happen. On Slinker stalked, full of con- 
 sequence and expectation that Mr. Romford would tip him a sovereign 
 at least for the find. Arriving at the top of the quarry he clapped 
 his hands loudly, and " slieiv, shewed ! " expecting to see the fox bolt 
 on the instant. Nothing of the sort however happened, some jack- 
 daws flew out of the quarry, but no fox appeared. Looking rather 
 disconcerted, the hero of the gun then stooped, and picking up a stone 
 threw it at the place where he still thought he saw the fox lying. 
 
150 MR. FACET ROMFORD'S HOUNDS. 
 
 Another jackdaw then appeared. Orach ! crack ! no"w went several 
 whips, in the midst of which Slinker descended, and, making for the 
 6pot, found the brown substance he had been taking for a fox was 
 some fox -coloured fern ! Nothing daunted, however, he returned boldly 
 to the front inveighing bitterly against the foot people, declaring that 
 half of them ought to be hung — that he had seen the fox there every 
 morning for the last month, and now they had put him away just 
 when the hounds had come to hunt him. But he knew who had done 
 it ! He knew who had done it ! It was that Geordey Mason, because 
 he wouldn't let him come to the rook-shooting. He'd pay him off, 
 that he would. 
 
 Mr. Romford, little chagrined, for he did not expect much from hi3 
 man, then took his further directions from Mr. Joseph Large, who, 
 wishing to get out of his tight top-boots as soon as he could, told 
 our master he had better go at once to Winstable Wood, and not potter 
 about wasting time any longer. "Whereupon Mr. Romford's broad 
 shoulders assumed the jerk of activity, which, having communicated 
 itself to the rest of the field, away the whole party went, bump, bump, 
 trot, trot, trotting to the bob, bob, bobbing of the men's caps in 
 advance. So they passed through the hamlets of Shinley and Crumpton, 
 to the delight of the children and the astonishment of the poultry, 
 each, particularly one old hen, thinking the whole force of the move- 
 ment was directed against her. 
 
 As the teapot-handle maker, in his purgatorial tops, was borne 
 along on a very fractious rough-actioned chestnut horse, he inwardly 
 thought that the trouble of hunting was greater than the pleasure. 
 He thought he would like to do it by deputy. Send the coachman out 
 instead. Why should he be tormented in this way ? — riding a nasty, 
 capering, hot-headed brute that wanted to have the whole road to 
 itself, and, if he gave it its head, would infallibly run clean away 
 with him. — Why, indeed! "Rot the brute! there it goes again!" 
 exclaimed Joseph, as the irritated chestnut threw up its head and 
 nearly flattened his snub nose. And Joseph inwardly wished he had 
 him in a good rough ploughed field where he could give him the slack 
 rein and ride him to a stand-still to punish him for his impetuosity. 
 Why couldn't he take things quietly? — and thereupon he gave him a 
 cropper that made the horse worse. Thus Joseph proceeded on his 
 way anything but rejoicing. Meanwhile Bolingbroke was comfortablv 
 at home feeding his pigeons. 
 
CHAPTEK XXXIV. 
 
 ▲ REAL FOX. 
 
 There were good foxes in Doubleiniupshire, only they required a 
 little finding. They lay in queer out of the way places, old buildings, 
 ivy-mantled crags, and one gentleman had his billet up a hollow box- tree. 
 
 Some men are good at finding foxes and bad at hunting them ; others 
 are bad at finding, and good at hunting them ; while others again are 
 good at neither operation. Mr. Pacey Romford combined both qualities, 
 he could find as well as hunt. He had an intuitive knowledge of the 
 nature and habits of the animal, and seemed to say to himself as he 
 approached a cover — his little pig eyes raking it in all directions — 
 " JSTow, Francis Romford, moy beloved friend, if you were a fox, where 
 would you lie ? "Would you choose the east side by the road, with the 
 chance of intrusion from every stray cur and stick-stealing besom- 
 maker ; or would you take the west, where it is quieter with worse 
 lying ; or would you mount half way up the hill where there is a 
 sunny sand bank to bask upon, with a nice close gorse in the rear?" 
 and whichever part of a cover Facey fancied, there generally was to be 
 found the fox. Sometimes he would whip them out of places that 
 nobody ever thought of trying, straggling bushes, briary banks, 
 angular nooks — quarters that offered the benefit of seclusion without 
 attracting notoriety by their size. " How can you be sure he's not 
 there," Facey would say, " if you don't try?" Not that he went with the 
 pack, and the posse comitatus at his heels, but he sent Swig or Chowey 
 or some one to whip the place in passing. He never gave a keeper a 
 chance of saying that he drew over his foxes, or left them behind. 
 
 Whitstable Wood was a sure find — at least as sure as anything can 
 be that is dependent upon the will of a wild animal, and, not having 
 been disturbed for some time, expectation ran high on the point. 
 Moreover, after two or three failures, even the funkers begin to wish 
 for something better than the mere cheer of the huntsman or the rate 
 of the whips. It is being hurried into hot action without a moment's 
 preparation, or time to get on terms with one's horse, that makes 
 people quake and wish themselves out of it. A great staring stone 
 wall or a bottomless brook to begin upon are sad dampers to ardoui 
 
152 MR. FACET EOMFORD'S HOUNDS. 
 
 and energy. Leaping should be gradual and progressive. A little one 
 first, then a somewhat larger, and a little bigger after that, and so on. 
 Not a great choker at starting. It should be conducted on the 
 principle of a French dinner, where the grand piece de resistance 
 comes last. 
 
 But we are now at the cover — a twenty-acre wood of stately oaks, 
 with capital lying, and already Romford & Co. have dissolved partner- 
 ship, Swig taking the right, Chowey the left, each keeping wide of 
 Mr. Romford, so that, as Beckford says, a single hound may not escape 
 them. Eacey coaxes as many of the field as he can into cover, but 
 the rides being deep and the clay holding, it is not a popular measure. 
 Mr. Joseph Large never went into a wood, because he never could find 
 his way out again ; but, on this occasion, thinking the holding clay 
 might be serviceable to the fractious chestnut horse, he went boldly 
 in, determined to give him a bucketing if he could. Still Joseph's 
 example was not seductive — very few followed him. Mr. Eickton 
 wanted to ride against Mr. Pyefinch, who had said he was a tailor ; 
 while Mr. Blanton, Mr. Bullpig, and Farmer Tuppen wanted to be 
 ready to slip down Lavenham Lane, in case the fox went to the west. 
 Each man has a pet reason for not going in. And as few now-a-days 
 care to see a fox found, Eacey has it pretty much to himself. On he 
 goes, slowly and carefully, inwardly hoping, that his gratuitous pack 
 might distinguish itself. If there was any truth in breeding they 
 would, and he knew he had spared no lies in getting them. 
 1 And the hounds had not been long in cover ere the feathering of 
 Trumpeter and Tuneable (both from the Badminton) satisfied our dis- 
 tinguished master that a fox was at home, and, getting the Baker horse 
 by the head, he dashed into the thickest of the brushwood, followed 
 by such of the pack as had witnessed the move. " Yooi, push 'em up /" 
 cheered Facey with a slight crack of his whip, and on the instant a 
 great ruddy-coated, white-throated, irate-looking dog fox dashed out 
 of his grassy lair in full view of Trumpeter, who raised such an excla- 
 mation of joy and surprise as electrified the rest of the pack, and 
 brought them pell-mell to the spot to share in the crash and the triumph. 
 What a commotion was there ! A pack of vigorous fox -hounds, all 
 getting a whiff of the scent by turns, each particular hound giving as 
 it were a receipt in full for the whole. "What a crash they make ! 
 and the old wood echoes and reverberates the sound with most usurious 
 interest. Then the critics, both hostile and friendly, began cocking 
 their ears for censure or for praise, while the unprejudiced sportsmen 
 Bat revelling in the melody, half wishing the fox would break cover, 
 and yet half that he would stay, and have a little more taken out of 
 
A REAL FOX. 153 
 
 him ere he fled. And sly Reynard, apparently considering the matter, 
 and leaving the dreadful clamour behind him, thought he had better 
 get a little further a head before he ventured to leave his comfortable 
 quarters, so, running a couple of liberal rings, he so foiled the ground 
 as to bring the clamorous hounds to their noses, and give him a much 
 better chance of escape. And as the music sensibly lessened and some 
 were beginning to abuse the scent, and Facey was cheering on the 
 hounds that could hold it, the twang of a horn came softened through 
 the wood, changing the whole course of the performance. 
 
 It was Daniel ! the Eight Honourable the Hurl of Scamperdale's 
 Daniel ! doing with his horn what he was unable to do with his husky 
 voice, and its notes were caught and immediately drowned by the 
 clamour that followed them. 
 
 The fox was indeed away ! "Well away ; for he must have been a 
 bold one to return in the face of such a yelling. 
 
 Meanwhile Daniel was on with the leading hounds, leaving Facey 
 and Chowey to bring the rest after him. There was a rare scent, and 
 he chuckled to think they would never catch him up. So he sailed 
 gallantly over Mapperton Meadows, taking Babington Brook in hi3 
 stride. Then Romford, who had nothing but his quick ear to guide 
 him — never having seen a yard of the country before — settled himself 
 in his saddle, and went tearing and crashing away through the cover 
 to where he thought he heard the last notes of the horn, while the 
 well-informed field diverged to the right or the left, according as their 
 former experience guided them ; some thinking the fox was away for 
 Heslope Hill, others that he was sure to go to Huiiestone Crags, and 
 the leader of each detachment coursed over the country, so as to lead 
 his followers to the point with as little risk to life or limb as possible. 
 Each party came in view just as Romford, with a gallant effort, super- 
 seded Swig, who now fell back upon the mouth-extended, gaping 
 Chowey. " For-rard ! for-rard! " was the cry, though it was scarcely 
 possible for hounds to go faster. 
 
 Most hunts have their crack rider, a man whom they think can beat 
 everybody ; and Captain Spurrier, of Cherryniount, had long held that 
 honourable office with the old Larkspur Hunt. Not that it is usual 
 to ride at the master or huntsman ; but the other Mr. Romford not 
 having the reputation of being a great horseman, the Captain thought 
 it might be well to show him how they did things in the far-famed 
 Doubleimupshire. But for this he would have preferred retiring 
 into private life now on the accession of a new master, for a strong 
 tinge of hoar-frost had shot across his once dark-brown whiskers, and 
 hardish falls had somewhat quenched the love of leaping. Still, men 
 
151 mr. facey romford's hounds. 
 
 don't like admitting they are not so good as they have teen, and per- 
 severe on, in hopes that it is only a temporary depression, from which 
 they will speedily rally. Each time they go out they think they will 
 just show off that day, and be done ; but somehow they always think 
 they will just have another last day, and then one more, and so on, 
 till they get beat, and give up hunting in disgust. 
 
 Happy are they who go out to please themselves, and not to astonish 
 others. 
 
 So thought Mr. Joseph Large, as, having taken the fiery edge off the 
 chestnut in the deep-holding clay rides of the cover, he gained the hard 
 road, and resolved to stick to it as long as ever he could. " Pretty 
 thing it would be for a man of his means to break his neck after a 
 nasty, crafty, hen-stealing fox." So saying, he knotted his curb-rein, 
 and letting it drop, proceeded to take his change out of the chestnut, 
 now that he had got him subdued. He even ventured to spur him, 
 not very severely, but still sufficient to let the horse know that he had 
 a pair on. 
 
 "With the before-mentioned erroneous impression of the prowess of 
 friend Facey, Captain Spurrier hustled his horse and hardened his 
 heart, determined to ride as of yore ; and great was his surprise when, 
 on clearing the cover, he saw the pusillanimous Romford, as he 
 thought, sailing away, taking the large bullfinchers just as they came 
 in his way, without swerving either to the right or the left. 
 
 " Spurting rider ! " muttered Spurrier, grinding his teeth, adding, 
 "he'll change his tune before he gets to Collington AVoods," for which 
 the hounds seemed then to be evidently pointing. So saying, the 
 Captain put spurs to his little thorough-bred steeplechace horse, and 
 shot in between Facey and Daniel Swig, who was now careering along 
 in the wake of his master. 
 
 A great and wide-spread avalanche of sportsmen followed, some by 
 one route, some by another, the programme widening towards its base, 
 just like the pyramids of Egypt, or a lady's petticoat. The ground 
 sloped gradually to the sight, giving all those who had time to look 
 after anything but themselves a fine panoramic view of the chace, — 
 hounds in a cluster — Romford close up — Spurrier hard upon him — 
 Swig next Spurrier, and Chowey mixed up in a miscellaneous group 
 of horsemen, — now a red coat leading, now a black, now a red 
 again. The air was bright and rarefied, and echo multiplied the music 
 of the hounds. It was both a good seeing, a good scenting, and a 
 good hearing day, — quite a bespeak for an opening day. 
 
 The further they went, the more Captain Spurrier was lost in 
 astonishment at Mr. Romford's masterly performance. He didn't seem 
 
A REAL FOX. ]55 
 
 io care a halfpenny for anything. All he looked to was being with 
 his hounds. Brooks, banks, walls, woods, all seemed equally indiffe- 
 rent to him. " What nonsense people talked about Eomford not being 
 a rider," thought he. " "Was just about the hardest rider he had ever 
 seen. Little Spratt was nothing to him." And Spurrier inwardly 
 congratulated himself upon not being bound to beat Mr. Romford. 
 Such a back and such shoulders he had never seen in conjunction with 
 such a powerful horse. Altogether, Spurrier pronounced Romford a very 
 formidable opponent. And he wondered if Romford would introduce 
 him to Lord Lovetin. Mrs. Spurrier would like it very much, if he 
 would. So they sailed away over Sharperow and Strother lordships, 
 past Tasborough, leaving Thirkeld on the right and "Welbury on the 
 left, till the ploughed lands of Portgate slackened their paces and 
 brought the hounds to their noses. 
 
 " Hold hard ! " was at length the cry, and gratefully it sounded to 
 the ears of the forward ; grateful it was too to those behind, who by 
 now putting on might yet hope to get a saving view of the scene. So 
 they hurried forward in clamorous vigour, determined to be able to 
 say how it was up to Heatherwicke Green, at all events ; and a great 
 wave of sportsmen surged to the front ere Mr. Romford, having let 
 the hounds make their own cast, now essayed to assist them in full 
 view of a panting but still critical field. 
 
 "We are all great judges of hunting. Romford, nothing flurried, had 
 employed the brief interval in watching the spreading and trying of 
 the hounds, and surveying the same. 
 
 "Francis Romford," said he to himself, "if you were the fox, what 
 would you do under these circumstances ? You may have been headed 
 by that noisy long-tailed team, with the man riding on the stilts, or 
 you may have been chased by that ill-conditioned cur, who has a very 
 felonious look about him ; but, any how, I think, Francis Romford, 
 with that range of rocky hills in front, you would get on a-head, and 
 try to ensconce yourself amongst them." So saying, Facey deter- 
 mined to make a wide cast in front, and tiy to recover his friend. And 
 the perspiring field sat watching the move — if successful, to call it a 
 good one ; if not, to denounce it as the wildest cast that ever was made. 
 
 Facey didn't get his hounds together like a flock of sheep, but 
 allowed them to spread and use their own sagacity, going at a very 
 gentle pace, without any hurrying or blustering from the whips. Two 
 fields a-head brought him to the rapid-running, eddying Fleet, now 
 even with its banks from the effects of recent rains. It was neither 
 jumpable nor fordable, but it was swimmable, and as such Facey took 
 to it. 
 
156 me. pacey romford's hounds. 
 
 He blobbed in and scrambled out. Swig blobbed in and scrambled 
 out. The hounds blobbed in and scrambled out. 
 
 Chowey declined. 
 
 It suddenly occurred to him that Raschid was missing. 
 
 Captain Spurrier looked at the still agitated water, and said, " Ah ! 
 that w r ould not have stopped me, but I've got a dose of camomile in 
 me this morning." He then joined the ruck, and rode round by the 
 bridge at Beltingford Burn. A hard road here favoured them, and as 
 the field clattered along, they commented in fragmentary ejaculations 
 on the rashness of swimming, and the general disagreeableness of 
 water in winter. 
 
 "He must have viewed the fox," said Mr. Tuppen, " or he would 
 never have risked his life in that way;" adding, "Have known many 
 a man drowned in that river." 
 
 "Or is going to a halloa!" suggested Mr. Markwell, who had just 
 joined. 
 
 " A rare un to ride ! " observed Mr. Joseph Large, proud of his 
 protege. 
 
 But llomford had neither viewed the fox nor heard a halloa. He 
 was simply following his own instinct that- the fox was forrard ; and 
 if he didn't find him forrard, he would have swum it again to try 
 back. 
 
 But Fortune does favour the brave, and Facey had no occasion to give 
 his new coat-laps or Bedford cords another w T etting ; for, after a hearty 
 shaking, the bustling pack again spread to pursue their sniffing inves- 
 tigations on the south side of the river ; and at a reverse in the second 
 hedge-row dividing a ploughed from a pasture field, the Beaufort 
 Brilliant gave such a note of exclamation as electrified the pack, and 
 in an instant the rickety fence cracked and bent with their weight. 
 
 "Hoop!" cheered Facey, delighted with his prowess. He didn't 
 care a copper for his Bedford cords, nor yet for his new coat-laps. 
 
 Meanwhile the hounds shot away with renewed melody, renovating 
 the roadsters, and making the country ring with their energy. The 
 face of the landscape now changed, inclining upwards towards the dark 
 frowning hills, w r hich divided the vale from the moorlands above. The 
 enclosures, too, got larger and larger — twenty, thirty, and forty acres 
 each — while the surface was more openly exposed, fiat, and expansive, 
 with very weak hedges, and few hollows for concealment or out-of- 
 sight running. The hounds now showed to great advantage, striving 
 and racing for the mastery. A sheet would cover them. 
 
 " Dash it! but they are a rare lot ! " muttered Facey, eyeing their 
 performances. " And didn't cost much, either," chuckled he, thinking 
 
A EEAL FOX. 157 
 
 how he got them. " Forranl ! forrarcl /" cheered he, fanning the 
 name of their ardour. So they went screeching and pressing to the 
 front — now Prosperous leading, now Terrible, now Tuneable. Dash 
 it ! He didn't know whether the Beaufort or the Belvoir were the 
 best. Didn't think even Bondsman himself could beat some of the 
 former. Monstrous lucky he was to get them. 
 
 Facey next views the fox stealing steadily over what was once Colts- 
 foot Common, with an attendant canopy of crows hovering over him, 
 indicating his course. "Yowl yoiv 1 yap/" went the bustling 
 hounds. " Caw ! caw ! caw ! " went the birds. So the poor fox had 
 a double set of pursuers. 
 
 On he went, however, steadily and! perseveringly. He had beat the 
 old Larkspur hounds twice, and did not see why he should not beat 
 Mr. Bomford's. But nearer and nearer came the notes of the pack, 
 commingling with the vociferous cawing of the black gentry above. 
 It was hard to say which seemed the most inveterate against the 
 unfortunate fox. Still, the many-caverned rocks were close at hand, 
 and if he could but gain them, they might work for a week before they 
 got him out. There they girded the horizon in frowning altitude, the 
 dark interstices looking most inviting for a refuge. Facey saw the 
 difficulty. If the fox and hounds held on at the same pace, the fox 
 would inevitably gain the rocks and beat the hounds. This was not 
 to be desired, especially on a first day after a good run. So clapping 
 spurs to Pull-Devil-Pull-Baker, now, indeed, made into Placid Joe, he 
 capped them on from scent to view ; and, after a smart race, the 
 Belvoir Dreadnought pulled the fox down by the brush, just as he was 
 ascending the first reef of rocks. 
 
 " Who-hoop ! " shrieked Bomford, in a voice that made the hills 
 ring and reverberate. " Who-hoopJ" repeated he, throwing himself 
 from his horse, and diving into the midst of the pack, to extricate the 
 fox from their fangs. Up he held him triumphantly, with the baying 
 pack jumping and frolicking around. " Take my horse away now," 
 cried Facey to Swig, and the coast being then clear, Facey advanced a 
 few steps to where a soft mossy bank seemed to invite the performance 
 of the last obsequies of the chace. There on the bright green cushion 
 he cast the nut-brown fox. 
 
 Meanwhile, the field having availed themselves of the facilities cf 
 Beltingford Bridge, were now making the air and the hard road ring 
 with their voices and the noise of their horses' hoofs, all in a deuce of 
 a stew lest they should lose the hounds, or not be up at the kill. They 
 had not yet arrived at the elegant point of indifference that makes men 
 turn their horses' heads homewards as soon as they hear " who-hoop !" 
 
158 Mil. facet romford's hounds. 
 
 and most satisfactory (though of course none of them admitted it) 
 Romford's death-note sounded on their ears. 
 
 They had all about had enough. The gallant Captain Spurrier had 
 lost a shoe, Mr. Blanton had lost two, while Mr. James Allnut and his 
 son had lost five between them. 
 
 Mr. Romford took no advantage of their circumlocution, but keeping 
 the fox on the green bank, maintained the ardour of the pack by 
 repeated hoops and halloas. So there was a very lively circle when 
 the last of the field came up. Facey and the fox in the centre, the 
 baying hounds all around, Chowey and Swig outside, contributing 
 their occasional quota of noise to the scene. 
 
 "Well (puff) done ! " exclaimed Mr. Bullpig, mopping himself. 
 
 " Capital (gasp) run ! " shouted Allnut, who had only seen half 
 of it. 
 
 " Never saw better (puff) hounds in my life! " asserted Mr. Large, 
 who had never seen any but the Surrey. 
 
 Then all having come up, Chowey, at a signal from Facey, proceeded 
 to divest the fox of his brush and his pads, prior to presenting the 
 remainder to the hounds. Up then went the carcase, which was caught 
 by a myriad of mouths as it fell. Tear him and eat him, was then the 
 ciy. And tear him and eat him they did. The master of the circle, 
 Facey Romford, then quitted the ring, now somewhat difficult to 
 maintain in consequence of the struggling efforts of the fox-devouring 
 hounds, and having decorated Master Allnut' s pony with the brush, 
 and given the pads to those who would have them, proceeded to the 
 outer ring, to hear how things were going on there. 
 
 There was a great discussion about the time and distance. 
 
 Mr. Pyefinch said it was nine miles as the crow flies. 
 
 Doctor Snuff, who had joined promiscuously on a cob, thought it 
 Was hardly that, but it was good eight. 
 
 Mr. Kickton thought it was more than eight. It was seven to 
 Stewley Hill, and the rocks were two good miles beyond it. 
 
 Then they appealed to Mr. Romford. 
 
 "How far should you say it was, Mr. Romford?" demanded Mr. 
 Joseph Large, who thought he had come twenty at least. 
 
 " Faith, I've no notion !" replied Face}', adding, "He was a right 
 good fox, any how." 
 
 " Capital ! " ejaculated Mr. Large, adding, " It was almost a pity to 
 kiR him." 
 
 " Not a bit," retorted Facey, " always kill 'em when you can. The 
 more you kill, the more you'll have to kill." 
 
 The teapot-handle maker didn't understand that doctrine, but took 
 
MF. HAZEY AND HIS BOY BILL. 159 
 
 it for granted. He inwardly hoped there were not many such foxes 
 in the country. 
 
 Then Facey, pretending that the run was nothing out of the way, 
 remounted his horse, demanding where they should go next ; whereupon 
 they all cried " Content! " recommending him to go home and change, 
 for he must he very wet, and began asking their own individual ways, 
 for some people will live in a country all their lives, and yet nevei 
 know where they are after hunting. 
 
 Then Mr. Bullpig, having identified Hazelton Hill, and Mr. Blanton 
 the far-off Castlefield Clump, the respective cohorts filed off together to 
 be further distributed as they proceeded. And Mr. Romford having 
 looked over his hounds, and found them all right to a fraction, moved 
 away in the direction of Middlethorp Steeple, well pleased at having 
 given the field such a stinger at starting. And he smoked his pipe, 
 and played the flute with great glee, at Beldon Hall, that eveniug ; 
 telling Lucy and her mamma that he had given his new friends a 
 " deuce of a dust in' ." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 J£B.. HAZEY AND HIS BOY BILL. 
 
 A httntsxan's fame rises and falls with the sport he shows, and 
 after such a run as that described in our last chapter, no wonder Mr. 
 Homford's was in the ascendant. People said there was no mistake 
 about him. He was the right man in the right place. And the tide 
 of public opinion turned entirely in his favour. His unadorned elo- 
 quence, queer questions, and napkin-pocketing gaucheries were for- 
 gotten or merged in the brilliant nature of his exploits. He was a 
 trump, and no mistake. 
 
 The run was talked of far and wide — magnified, and exaggerated 
 beyond all bounds. It was twelve miles, it was fifteen miles, and it 
 was twenty miles. Facey swam the Lune (a navigable river), and rode 
 tip a precipice a hundred and ten feet high. It was talked of at my 
 Lord's, at Sir Charles's, at the Hall, the House, and Grange, at the Barley 
 Mow, the Coach and Horses, the Fox and Hounds, the Bed Lion, the 
 White Horse, the Black Horse, the Bay Horse, at all the houses of 
 public entertainment within the limits of the Larkspur Hunt. 
 
 As it gradually reached the confines of the Larkspur country, a sort 
 
160 MR. FACEY ROMFORD'S HOUNDS. 
 
 of reaction took place, and people began to be more sceptical ; doubted 
 whether Facey swam the Lnne, doubted whether he rode up the 
 precipice ; doubted whether the run was as long as they said. If it 
 was, there must have been two foxes. 
 
 When the news got into Independent Jimmy's friend Mr. Hazey'* 
 country, it became more and more doubted still, and some of the mem- 
 bers of the Hard and Sharp Hunt seemed to take it amiss, if any one 
 mentioned it. Distance ? Nonsense ! it was nothing of the sort. Mr. 
 Jiggerton Jones, who was born at Brickley Hill, and knew every yard 
 of the country, said it was barely eight miles — not eight as the crow 
 flies. The Lune never came in the way. It was the Fleet. Mr. 
 Romford swam — anybody could leap it on foot when the waters were 
 down. So they crabbed the great run. 
 
 Mr. Hazey heard the news with misgivings, for he had had some 
 difficulty in holding his own even against the old Larkspur Hunt, and 
 it was only by letting the large subscribers hoop and halloa, and do 
 as they liked with his hounds, that he managed to keep them together. 
 But for this they would have been straggling all over the world, some 
 to the Larkspurs, some to Captain Copperthwaite's harriers, some to Mr. 
 Stotf old's stag-hounds. Railways make sportsmen very ubiquitous. 
 One day they are with the Queen's, another with the Quorn, a third 
 with the Craven, or perhaps the Cheshire. 
 
 Still, Mr. Hazey hoped if Romford was the great man people 
 represented him to be, he might yet manage to retrieve himself by a 
 little curative horse-dealing with him. 
 
 Mr. Hazey was one of the new-fangled order of horse-dealing 
 masters of hounds — and hunted the country for the sake of what he- 
 could make by it. "We don't mean to say that he lived out of the 
 hounds like friend Facey, because he went to a certain expense in 
 their maintenance and educatiou, himself, but he never missed a 
 chance of making that expense as little as possible by selling either 
 horses or hounds to advantage. He was one of those provoking, per- 
 secuting creatures who are always pestering people about their 
 belongings, praising their horses until one would suppose no money 
 would induce them to part with them, and then all at once they chop 
 over and announce that the paragon of perfection is for sale, all 
 the previous palaverment merely tending to excite competition and 
 enhance the price. A man doesn't deserve a good horse who is 
 always wanting to sell him. The respectable dealers would have 
 nothing to do with Mr. Hazey. They woidd meet him at the 
 thresholds of their yards with a bow, and a "Sorry, sir, we have 
 nothing at home that will suit you." well knowing that he would turn 
 
MR. HAZEY AND HIS BOY BILL. 161 
 
 every horse in the yard out, and then haggle with them for a half- 
 penny at the end. The great Mr. Thoroughpin of Oxford Street nsed 
 to say he would rather do business with two Jews than one Hazey. 
 Then, to hear Hazey running down a horse that he wanted to buy, and 
 afterwards running him up when he wanted to sell, was what Inde- 
 pendent Jimmy called quite " a theatre performance." No one would 
 suppose he was talking about one and the same animal. In buying of 
 the farmers, he was far worse than the regular dealers in his persecu- 
 tion for luck-pence and returns, and would take anything that they 
 would give him, — a sack of potatoes, a goose, or even his gig-hire, 
 if he could get nothing else. Then what trials he required before ho 
 could be satisfied of their soundness, and how little he gave when he 
 came to buy ! His plan was to canter a horse for three quarters of an 
 hour or so, then take him back to the stable, and, after he had got 
 him cool, to shake down a veterinary surgeon as if by chance, to scan 
 and scrutinise his then appearance and condition. In selling, he sternly 
 repudiated the services of the brotherhood, observing, they were a class 
 of men he never allowed to come into his stables — knew their tricks 
 too well for that — " gentlemen should place implicit confidence in 
 each other," Hazey said. 
 
 In this honourable career he was ably assisted by his groom, James 
 Silkey, a man who could lie like truth, and who would swear to any- 
 thing that Hazey said. Having been long in Hazey's service, and, of 
 course, in at a good many robberies, Silkey had acquired a perfect 
 mastery over Hazey, much to the latter' s inconvenience, who could 
 neither do with Silkey nor without him — Silkey could expose him 
 whenever he liked. 
 
 Not that Hazey cared a great deal for exposure; but Silkey, by 
 enabling parties to put that and that together, might bring him within 
 reach of the law, which would be very disagreeable in a pecuniary 
 point of view. Indeed, he had had once or twice to refund as it was, 
 not caring to trust Silkey to the cross-examination of that teasing 
 counsel, Serjeant "Werrit. Silkey had long discarded livery, set up a 
 broad back, and strutted consequentially in brown cut-aways and 
 gaiters, talking of moy hounds, moy horses, moy this, and moy that — • 
 but never about moy master. 
 
 After this introduction, perhaps the reader would like to know 
 what sort of a looking gentleman Mr. Hazey was — tall or short, thick 
 or thin, dark or fair, old or young, or middling, or how. "Well, he 
 was of the middle stature and middling substance, stood five feet nine, 
 and rode eleven stone two — a convenient weight for mounting, and 
 dressed in a sort of semi-groomish, semi-country gentlemanish style 
 
 BE 
 
162 1EK. FACET ROMFORD'S HOUXDS. 
 
 — cut-away coat, light vest, fancy tie, with generally tightish drab 
 trousers and Balmoral boots. Being no rider, his hunting costume, of 
 course, was a cap, huntsman-ish cut coat, and everything very stout 
 and substantial. 
 
 As to his age, we can hardly fix it, for he was one of those light- 
 complexioned gentlemen who wear so well, had no whiskers, and no 
 striking feature save cold grey eyes that wandered restlessly about 
 a room. It wasn't the quick, piercing eye of Mr. Bomford, but the 
 sly, circumventing one that makes a man feel far more anxious for his 
 pocket than the other. He had a son now old enough to want top- 
 boots, viz., Mr. William Hazey, or "my boy Bill," as his father 
 fondly called him. Bill had left two schools with the reputation of 
 being the worst boy at both. Being, however, his father's facsimile 
 in mind as well as looks, he was his especial favourite, and everything 
 seemed to be made subservient to my boy Bill. My boy Bill must have 
 a gun-room ; my boy Bill must have a billiard-room ; my boy Bill must 
 have a smoking-room ; my boy Bill must have everything he wanted. 
 
 To hear Mr. Hazey talk, one would fancy that his boy Bill was the 
 best done-by boy Bill in the county ; but those who were behind the 
 scenes said that, unless Bill's views coincided with those of bis worthy 
 father, Bill had very little chance of getting what he wanted. My 
 boy Bill, to all appearances, had a couple of horses, and Hazey used 
 to point him out ostentatiously to parties as Bill changed from one to 
 the other at the cover side, exclaiming, 
 
 "There/ there's my boy Bill! show me the man who turns his 
 son out better than I turn out my boy Bill ! " 
 
 But if anybody would buy my boy Bill's horse, Bill might go on 
 foot till Hazey picked him up another twenty-pounder, to be again 
 converted into a fifty, and sold as before. 
 
 And now, as Bill grew up to manhood, he became a sort of chaunter 
 to his excellent parent — praised his hounds, praised his horses, praised 
 his sport, praised everything belonging to him — was quite equal to 
 tupersede Silkey, if they could but get rid of him. Kay, more, Bill 
 lould not only praise, but anticipate objections, palliate weak points 
 that he saw might arise, either to hounds, horses, or anything. If the 
 Hazey carriage was not quite so good as it might be, Bill would say 
 to a stranger as it came round to the door, "Ah, this is a coach- 
 maker's carriage — ours is getting done up;" or, if the horses were 
 shabby, " Ah, these are our night-horses." So with his hay, his 
 straw, his oats, his every thing that was Hazey. Silkey, on the 
 other hand, rather magnified deficiencies, thinking, perhaps, to make 
 ids master rectify them thereby. 
 
CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 BILLY BALSAM AND BOB SHOUT. 
 
 Bsldon Hall underwent a great change in its domestic arrange- 
 ments soon after the visit of our friends the "Watkinses, when Dirtiest 
 of the Dirty had to act the part of footman, receive and announce 
 the company, and reconduct them to their carriage. This pro- 
 ceeding Lucy did not approve ; she felt it was derogatory to the dignity 
 of the place, and inconsistent with her brother's elevated position of 
 master of the Larkspur foxhounds. So, with her ready wit, she set 
 about seeing how it could be rectified. 
 
 Isow the Viscount Lovetin kept a gardener, one Billy Balsam, or 
 Sweet "William, as Mrs. Mustard lovingly called him, who, like her- 
 self, was of the poverty-stricken order ; a man who was ready to turn 
 his hand to anything in a slovenly make-shift sort of way — leaving it 
 to the parties who employed him to judge whether he did his work 
 properly or not. There are plenty of these sort of creatures in all 
 countries. He had sixteen shillings a week from the Viscount for 
 what Balsam called looking after the garden ; that is to say, seeing 
 that no one ran away with the trees, the tool-house, and anything of 
 that sort; and the sixteen shillings a week coming in regularly, 
 whether he worked for Lord Lovetin or not, Balsam had plenty of 
 time for doing little things for other people — stacking hay, taking 
 bees, killing pigs, getting in coals — any of the hundred-and-one odd 
 jobs that are constantly occurring in the country. " Send for Billy 
 Balsam ! " was always the last resource of the destitute, just as 
 housekeepers used to say, " Send for one of the Mustard girls ! " in 
 case of a domestic emergency. 
 
 Billy was a stout-built, well-legged man, of about sixty years of 
 age, with a large, full, red face — the nose slightly indicative of drink 
 — the whole surmounted by a most respectable silvery-grey head — 
 just the sort of man that a stranger would suppose had lived all his 
 life in one family, instead of having been in twenty different places 
 at least, before he alighted at Beldon Hall. 
 
 Bob Short, who dignified himself with the title of stud-groom, 
 being the man who answered Facey's advertisement for a " strong, 
 
 m 2 
 
164 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 persevering man, to clean horses," was much of the same "build, 
 though possessing more brains than Sweet William. Indeed his 
 abundance of brains had got him into trouble ; for, living coachman 
 with a gentleman of large fortune who knew nothing whatever about 
 horses or stable-management, Bob (who quite understood his busi- 
 ness) had so imposed upon his master's credulity as to bring himself 
 within the scope of the criminal law, — that inconvenient Act, we 
 believe, which enables justices to dispose of certain thefts in petty ses- 
 sions. Be tbat as it may, however, Bob Short fell from his high estate, 
 as the reader may suppose, when we find him accepting such a situa- 
 tion as Mr. Romford's — not that the place was degrading, but the pay 
 was so poor. Well, it occurred to Lucy that one or other, or perhaps 
 both, of these worthies might be made available in raising a suitable 
 BeldonHall establishment, and, both of them being extremely ready, she 
 enlisted them as occasional footmen, — Sweet William in ordinary, and 
 Bob and he on a Sunday. 
 
 She then turned her attention to dressing them. It is a good thing 
 to have walked the stage ; for, besides the easy self-possession acquired 
 by so doing, it not only teaches people how to dress themselves or 
 others up for any particular part, but also where to get the right 
 properties for the occasion, — crowns for emperors, wreaths for victors, 
 helmets for soldiers, liveries for servants. And turning to the column 
 headed " Public Amusements " in "Bell's Life," to see what places 
 were open, she found her old stage friend, Miss Betsey Shannon — of 
 whom more hereafter — figuring under her assumed name of Gertrude 
 Dalrymple at the Royal Amphitheatre over the water, and who, she knew, 
 would have great pleasure in executing any commission for her. So to 
 Miss Shannon she wrote, asking her to send her down to Beldon Hall, 
 in Doubleimupshire, as soon as ever she could, a couple of rich lace- 
 bedizened job liveries for two substantially built footmen, in the 
 baronial style ; adding, that she did not care so much about price as; 
 having the liveries smart and capable of bearing the garish light of 
 day. And, by way of stimulating Miss Shannon to extra exertion in 
 the matter, she told her, if all went right, as Lucy expected things 
 would, Mr. Romford would be glad to see Miss Shannon down at the 
 Lord Viscount Lovetin's, at Beldon Hall, to spend the Christmas holi- 
 days. And Miss Shannon — who dearly loved an outing into the 
 countiy, and moreover entertained a lively regard for her old Mend 
 and coadjutor (then Lucy Glitters) in the saw-dusted ring — exerted 
 herself to the utmost, going from Nathan's to Levy's, and from Levy's 
 to Abraham's, and from Abraham's to Solomon's, bartering and 
 bargaining with the hook-nosed costumiers till she finally settled on a 
 
BILLY BALSAM AND BOB SHORT. 165 
 
 couple of very passable pea-green coats with gold aiguillettes, yellow 
 vests, and yellow plush breeches, at Moses Mordecay's well-known 
 establishment in the Minories. They had their imperfections, it is 
 true ; the coat buttons bearing a lion rampant, those of the shorts " an 
 eagle" ; but callers are generally in too great a flurry, and too busy 
 thinking of themselves and their own attire, to pay attention to such 
 minutiae. In other respects the clothes were very passable, and, being 
 slightly worn, showed at all events that the owner was not just then 
 setting up his servants. Indeed it was arranged that Mrs. Somerville 
 ehould call the servants hers, which got rid of any difficulty about the 
 turbot-on -its-tail crest. 
 
 These liveries, then, with pink silk stockings and buckled shoes, 
 Miss Betsey Shannon engaged by the week, with a considerable reduc- 
 tion in price if they were kept any time, or the option of purchasing 
 them if Mrs. Somerville liked. Indeed, Miss Shannon executed her 
 commission so adroitly, flourishing Lord Lovetin's title so imposingly, 
 as to make Moses Mordecay believe that the due execution of the order 
 would be the forerunner of a good deal of custom, and actually induced 
 him to part with the garments without any deposit. And no sooner 
 did they arrive at Beldon Hall than Lucy opened them out and sent 
 forthwith for Billy Balsam, notwithstanding she knew he was then 
 particularly engaged in killing Mr. Proudlock's pig. Billy, with the 
 aid of hot water, having presently made himself Sweet "William again 
 after the operation, was then requested to try on both suits, and 
 present himself to Lucy in whichever fitted him best. This he pre- 
 sently did, and came along a perfect figure of fun to himself and 
 all the Dirties. u Hc, he, he! ho, ho, ho! haw, haw, hem P 1 laughed 
 they. Dirty No. 2 could hardly contain herself. She thought she 
 had never seen such a sight — no, never since the mountebanks came 
 down. 
 
 Then Lucy took Billy through her hands : told him to hold up his head, 
 turn out his toes, and walk as if he were a drum-major, and not as if 
 he were wheeling a barrow full of greens along the garden walk. And 
 she marched him round the room two or three times, telling him to 
 look in the mirrors, and see how much better he looked with his head 
 erect than doubled up as if he had got a touch of the stomach-ache, or 
 had stolen a pat of butter and had it in his pocket. And Billy thought 
 there was something in what she said, which, coupled with the promise 
 of a shilling a day for his services, reconciled him to the situation. 
 The ladies, in all probability, would give up laughing after they had 
 seen him once or twice. And what a quantity of spirits the money 
 would buy ! So he went fairhyjjijforhis lesson. 
 
166 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS, 
 
 She then proceeded to show him how to open the drawing-room 
 door and announce the guests. 
 
 "Now," said she, " this devonport," laying her pretty hand upon 
 one at -which she had been writing, " this devonport will be me ; I will 
 be the guest — the caller, you know — Lady Kingsborough, say — and 
 you must open the door and show me into the room, announcing me as 
 Lady Kingsborough." 
 
 So saying, Sweet "William and she withdrew, and Mrs. Somerville 
 closed the door after her, in order that they might go through the 
 whole ceremony. They were then in the vestibule, Mrs. Somerville 
 now turning round to be piloted. Sweet "William, however, hesitated. 
 "Please, mum," said he, scratching his white head, "is it to be 
 Lady Devonport or Lady Kingsport?" 
 
 "Oh, stoopid, no!" exclaimed Lucy; "the devonport — the thing 
 I showed you — is supposed to be me, and I'm Lady Kingsborough 
 come to call upon Mrs. Somerville ; but, as I can't possibly know by 
 intuition who is coming, you must inform me by announcing the 
 name." 
 
 " But how am I to know?" asked Billy Balsam. 
 " Oh, by asking; or they'll tell yon," replied she; adding, "you 
 mustn't expect to find them labelled like one of your Dutch flower- 
 roots. Now, then, walk on, chuck up your chin, open the door boldly, 
 and conduct me up to the devonport." 
 
 Billy then did as he was bid, and after two or three attempts suc- 
 ceeded not so far amiss. 
 
 Then came the finishing stroke to the instructions ; namely, answer- 
 ing the front-door bell. Tor this purpose, Lucy put on her hat of the day, 
 and followed by Balsam proceeded along the passage, across the grand 
 hall, and out at the front-door, which she closed after her, telling Billy 
 before she did so to open it boldly and well when the bell rang, and 
 not to peep through an aperture, as if he expected a bailiff or dun. 
 And Lucy presently sounded an alarming summons, — a summons as if 
 all the crowned heads in Europe had come, — that startled old Balsam, 
 and brought all the Dirties to the old window of observation to see 
 what was up. 
 
 " Hut ! it's only the missus," said Dirtiest of the Dirty, who had 
 hoped to see a fine chay ; and forthwith the sisters slunk off, leaving 
 only old Mustard to witness the manoeuvres of Sweet William — see 
 him receive and set off on the return voyage of convoy — which he 
 accomplished not amiss, though not so well as Bob Short, who had far 
 more brains, would have done. But then the strong, persevering man 
 bad his stable to attend to, and could only be relied upon on Sundays, 
 
ME. HAZEY S MORNING CALL. 167 
 
 or for an hour or two on the very few days of the week that Mr. 
 Romford did not hunt. 
 
 Moreover, Bob, who had worn gaudy liveries and waited occasionally, 
 required less coaxing to get him to invest himself in the Moses 
 Mordecay suit than Billy Balsam had done. 
 
 However, there was no help for Short's absence, and the dignity of 
 the house was obliged to succumb to the convenience of the stable. 
 Still it was a great thing to have gained even two temporary footmen 
 at a bound. And Mrs. Somerville wrote to thank Miss Betsey Shannon 
 most sincerely for her trouble; adding, that she supposed " old hook- 
 nose " would be in no hurry for his money for the liveries — at least 
 she hoped not — for she was sure she would be in no hurry to pay him. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 MR. HAZEX'S MOENIXG CALL. 
 
 Tite Hazeys, like the "Watkinses, were duly sensible of the impor- 
 tance of establishing an early acquaintance at Beldon Hall, as well 
 for the purpose of cultivating an intimacy, as of warding off evil com- 
 munications, which too often spoil good speculations. The Hazeys, 
 too, had an enterprising daughter, of whom more hereafter. So Mr. 
 Hazey thus had two strings to his bow, he thinking to do a little busi- 
 ness on his own account with Mr. Romford in the horse-dealing way, 
 Hazey's creed being to "do " other people, as he said they would "do" 
 him if they had the chance. Then he had a good many backbiting 
 informants to guard against, who might be stopped from telling if they 
 knew he was on a friendly footing at Beldon Hall. For instance, 
 there was old Mr. Mugglesworth, of Fatfield Hall, to whom he had 
 sold a confirmed runaway as an invaluable cob for an elderly gentle- 
 man ; young Mr. Topsfield, of Meadow Bowers Bank, to whom he had 
 sold a most incorrigible rearer as a horse a child might ride ; middle- 
 aged Mr. Thurrock, of Barnsdale, to whom he had sold an inveterate 
 jibber and kicker as the steadiest horse in harness that ever was seen, 
 but which, as Silkey said, reduced the family phaeton to lucifer 
 matches in a minute. Altogether, Hazey had a long list of victims 
 •whose tongues he would like to deprive of their sting. 
 
 Indeed Hazey was never happy unless he was cheating somebody. 
 No matter how much money he had, no matter how recent and vigorous 
 
168 MR. FACET ROMFORD'S HOUNDS. 
 
 Lad been the "do," he was always ready and eager for another. His 
 cold, lustreless grey eyes sparkled with animation at the mere mention 
 of a victim. He immediately set about thinking how he could cir- 
 cumvent him — what he could offer him — how he could coax and sneak 
 to inveigle him. When Hazey heard that Mr. Romford had taken 
 Doubleiruupshire he was quite delighted, for the right Romford stood 
 well with the sporting world, and Hazey' s kennel being of the third- 
 class character, our Mr. Romford of course had not complimented him 
 with an order for hounds, so the Romford reputation stood bright and 
 unsullied. Indeed it would have been matter difficult to come over 
 Mr. Hazey, for he always required payment on delivery — horses and 
 hounds being, he used to say, ready money. So sly Silkey the groom 
 used always to be charged with a note when he delivered a horse, 
 wherein Hazey, alluding to the uncertainty of human life, used to 
 request the favour of a cheque by the bearer. Jawkins the hunts- 
 man, too, used to have a similar missive with hounds, for which he 
 went snacks with his master, and therefore of course looked to the 
 interests of both. 
 
 Mr. Hazey' s house, Tarring Neville, was about nine miles from 
 Beldon Hall by the road, but only some six or seven by the fields and 
 those convenient cuts that foxhunters establish during the season. 
 Being upon two distinct trusts, however, with an intervening mile of 
 township road, the distance could be lengthened or contracted accord- 
 ing to the wishes and views of the speaker. Thus, for instance, if 
 Mr. Hazey wanted Mrs. Hazey and Miss to call upon Mrs. Somerville 
 and leave his card for Mr. Romford, the distance would only have 
 been seven miles by the road ; but as Mr. Hazey disliked riding 
 in carriages, especially with women in hoops, the distance suddenly 
 elongated to eleven, — "far too far," as he said, "for calling on a short 
 winter day, travelling over newly metalled roads without any moon." 
 
 Moreover, Mr. Hazey wanted to look at a horse belonging to Parmer 
 Lightcrop, of Hollywell Lane, and which Jawkins the huntsman said 
 had gone pretty well with their hounds on the Friday, and which 
 Hazey thought might be picked up a bargain. And Sunday being a 
 day on which farmers' horses do not get much exercise, Hazey thought 
 to come upon the horse au naturel, without its having had any of the 
 bandagings and hand rubbings that Silkey and he were so well up to 
 giving. So when Mrs. Hazey began hinting and suggesting, half to 
 him, half to her daughter, that they ought to be calling upon Mrs. 
 Somerville, Hazey lengthened the road, extinguished the moon, and 
 mounting the " friendliness-among-foxhunters horse," proclaimed that 
 Bill and he would ride over and make all square with the master. 
 
ME. HAZEY'S MORNING CALL. 160 
 
 " But Mrs. Somerville ! There's Mrs. Somerville to be considered — 
 Bhe can't be squared, like a sportsman," exclaimed Mrs. Hazey. 
 
 " Oh, yes, we'll make her all right, too," said Hazey; "I'll pretend 
 that you didn't know that she had come, but that you will drive over 
 and pay your respects at the earliest possible opportunity." 
 
 " But why not all go now ?" asked madam. 
 
 " Oh, no," retorted Hazey ; "it will be far better for Bill and I to 
 go ovei together and reconnoitre — see what sort of people they are, 
 and then you will know how the land lies against you go over. 
 Besides," added he, " Mrs. Somerville may be serious, and not like to 
 be called upon on a Sunday." 
 
 And, this latter argument prevailing, the ladies had no alternative 
 but to submit, and let Hazey and Bill, duly attired in duplicate riding 
 jackets and Chipping Norton trousers, canter over together. 
 
 It was lucky for the interests of our story that it suited Mr. Hazey 
 to go on a Sunday, and that too on the very first Sunday that our 
 friends at the Hall were qualified to receive him with a proper display 
 of footmen. Somehow, Mrs. Somerville thought there would be callers, 
 and she not only got herself and her servants up with extra care, but 
 hid her mother, who, in truth, was not very produceable, and put old 
 Billy Balsam through his facings, beginning at the front door and 
 ending in the music -room, which she had fixed upon as her reception 
 apartment. This was a beautiful circular, domed, gilt-ceilinged apart- 
 ment, fitted up with violet-coloured brocaded satin damask, a splendid 
 Tournay carpet, and magnificent mirrors, interspersed with costly 
 statues, china, and articles of vertu. It was second only to the 
 drawing-room in point of size and magnificence. 
 
 Mr. Bomford bad been an advocate for living altogether in one room 
 — the breakfast one — where, as he said, he could have his pipe and his 
 newspaper and his flute and all things to hand ; but Mrs. Somerville 
 insisted that it would cost nothing more to live in large rooms than in 
 small ones, and that living in the latter would add very much to their 
 comfort and consequence. So friend Bomford, who had no objection 
 to be made a great man of, provided it cost nothing, consented, more 
 readily perhaps when he found he could get coals from the garden for 
 nothing — at least for a trifling tip to the cartman who led them. 
 Added to this, Lucy said it would keep the Dirties better employed, 
 and give them less time for flirting with young Broudlock, the 
 keeper's son, or the butcher's boy, proceedings of which she greatly 
 disapproved. Thus they got into form on this conspicuous Sunday, 
 when the knowing Mr. Hazey came over on his complimentary visit 
 of inspection. 
 
170 MR. FACEY ROMFORD'S HOUNDS. 
 
 Lucy had scarcely got Balsam through his facings, and instructed 
 Bob Short how to support him during the advance, than, almost with 
 the regularity of stage effect, the front-door bell rang a sonorous peal ; 
 and Mrs. Somerville, after taking a last hasty glance at herself in the 
 statuary marble mantel-piece mirror, subsided — in a half-recumbent 
 attitude, with a volume of "Blair's Sermons" in her hand — upon a 
 richly carved and gilt sofa, covered with violet Genoa velvet and silk 
 fringe. 
 
 " "Who can it be ? " exclaimed she. 
 
 "I wonder!" ejaculated Bomford, taking a chair — an elegant gilt 
 one, stuffed and covered en-suite with the sofa, as the upholsterers 
 would say. 
 
 " Soon see," rejoined Lucy, listening intently, with upraised hand 
 to keep silence. 
 
 " Must be women, with their confounded pettikits ! " observed 
 Pacey ; " and can't get out of the carriage." 
 
 "Hark! they come!" added Lucy, dropping her hand as the 
 eolemn tramp, tramp, tramp, of old Balsam's heavy feet approached 
 the door. It opened. 
 
 "Mr. Hazey ! — Mr. "William: Hazey! " now announced Balsam — 
 coming well into the room — in the clear distinct voice that Lucy had 
 taught him; whereupon Mrs. Somerville laid aside her volume of 
 " Blair's Sermons," and Eacey arose from his white-and-gold chair, 
 into which he had just subsided. 
 
 Lucy, with folded arms, then made two of her best stage curtsies, 
 one to Hazey, the other to Bill, motioning them respectively to con- 
 veniently-placed chairs as she did it. Facey seconded the motion, and 
 all parties presently got seated. 
 
 Mrs. Somerville, as usual, was extremely neat, and her beautiful 
 hair was arranged to perfection. 
 
 "Mr. Hazey! — Mr. William Hazey! " muttered Bomford, conning 
 the matter over in his mind, as he scrutinised the two with his little, 
 roving pig-eyes. "Mr. Hazey and Mr. William Hazey! Dash it! 
 this is the hard and sharp man — the chap the 'busman told me of." 
 And Bomford reckoned Hazey up in a minute. " Looks more like a 
 muffin-maker than a master of hounds," thought he. 
 
 Mr. Hazey felt rather uncomfortable, for he was now in the presence 
 of a highly-bred gentleman, to whom a nobleman had lent his house, 
 thus stamping him, as it were, with the impress of friendship ; aud he 
 thought, perhaps, that Mrs. Hazey ought to have accompanied him in 
 this visit of ingratiation. Added to which, he wasn't sure that he 
 would be welcome on a Sunday. However, he got over that difficulty 
 
MR. HAZEYS MORNING CALL. 171 
 
 by recollecting that the old peacocks of footmen who let him in 
 should have said "Net at home," if Mr. Eomford or Mrs. Somerville 
 did not mean to see him ; so, omitting the paragraph he had arranged 
 in two sections in his own mind — one referring to his own occupations 
 as a master of hounds on the week days, the other alluding to the 
 greater certainty of finding Mr. Romford and Mrs. Somerville together 
 at home on a Sunday — he began to strain at an apology for Mrs. 
 Hazey not coming, declaring she had got such a cold, she could hardly 
 hold her head up. Whereas, his boy Bill knew that Hazey would not 
 let her have the carriage. 
 
 And Mrs. Somerville, who didn't care much about seeing Mrs. 
 Hazey, accepted the apologies with the greatest readiness, expressing 
 her obligations for the intention, but her hopes that Mrs. Hazey 
 would not think of coming until sbe was quite well, reflecting all the 
 while on the good luck that Eomford and she were in, by having got 
 into the music-room, with the mirrors uncovered, and all the beautiful 
 china and statuary displayed. 
 
 Romford's mind, meanwhile, ran upon the probability of his guests 
 wanting luncheon, and the unpleasantness of seeing his dinner 
 voraciously despatched before his eyes. 
 
 The weather having been duly produced and disposed of, Mr. Rom- 
 ford began to sound his brother master on the subject of hunting — 
 scent, hounds, horses, the system of kennel — each thinking how he 
 would like to have a chance of cheating the other : Romford settling in 
 his own mind that the nutmeg-grey that scrubbed against carriages, 
 would cany Hazey capitally ; Hazey, on his part, wondering whether 
 Lightcrop's horse would be up to Mr. Romford's weight. He (Romford) 
 didn't look such a monster out of his hunting things as people said 
 he was. 
 
 " Yours is a three-days-a-week pack, I think," said Facey, with 
 the patronising air of a man who hunts four. 
 
 " Three and a bye," replied Hazey, anxious to make the most of 
 himself. 
 
 " Not often a bye, I should think," thought Facey, scrutinising 
 him attentively. 
 
 "I wonder you don't hunt four reg'larly," said Facey; "if it was 
 only for the sake of havin' the same hounds out together." 
 
 " "Well — yes — no — yes ! " hesitated Hazey ; " only ours is a country 
 that lames a good many hounds, and I shouldn't like to attempt more 
 than I could accomplish satisfactorily." 
 
 " Only a question, of a few more horses and hounds," repliel 
 Facey. 
 
172 mr. facey romford's hounds. 
 
 "Yes; but, then, horses and hounds involve £ — s — d," rejoined 
 Hazey, with a solemn shake of the head. 
 
 "Fiddle the farthins ! " exclaimed Facey ; " fiddle the farthins ! — I 
 mean, grudge money for huntin' ! Give anything for good hounds — 
 anything in moderation, at least," added he. 
 
 " Ah, but then we haven't all got Mr. Romford's deep purse to 
 dive into," rejoined Hazey, with a deferential bow to our great 
 master. Hazey always wished to impress upon his boy Bill that 
 he was poor. 
 
 They then got into a dissertation upon hounds, — Hazey expatiating 
 fearnedly upon legs and loins ; Facey insisting upon nose as the sine 
 nid 11011. 
 
 "Nose, nose, nose, is my motto," said Facey, thumping Lord 
 liovetin's fine marqueterie centre table as he spoke. "Legs are 
 of no use," repeated he, "if they only drive the nose beyond the 
 scent." 
 
 Then Hazey sought to sound his brother master on the interesting 
 subject of subscription : whether his was guaranteed, whether it was 
 well paid, whether he paid much for cover rent, or had the country 
 found. 
 
 Upon this subject, however, friend Facey could really give him very 
 little information. There was, he said, a subscription attached to the 
 country, and he meant to maintain it, not on his own account, because 
 in all probability he should let it accumulate, to found what he had 
 always been most anxious to see, namely, a hospital for decayed 
 sportsmen ; but because it might not be convenient to after-comers to 
 hunt the country without a subscription, and indeed, upon the whole, 
 ne thought it rather tended to encourage sport, inasmuch as people 
 always thought more highly of what they paid for, than what they 
 had for nothin' ; and, altogether, Facey talked in such a magnificent 
 way as fairly to shut up Mr. Hazey. The latter sat half lost in 
 astonishment at Mr. Romford's liberality, yet half afraid that he might 
 ask him to contribute to the funds for the hospital. 
 
 So they were mute for a time. 
 
 Mr. Facey saw that he had taken the wind out of his brother 
 master's sails, and he wondered how long he was going to sit, and 
 whether the mention of lunch would help to send him away. He 
 thought it might, provided it were done cleverly. He would try. 
 
 " You're sure you won't take any lunch," at length observed he, as 
 if lie had offered it before, muttering something about Cambridge 
 brawn, venison pasty, rabbit pie (which latter there was) ; but Face}- 
 put such a decided negative upon his own proposition, that, thou/h 
 
MR. HAZEY'S MORNING CALL. lib 
 
 both Hazey and his boy Bill were extremely hungry and anxious for 
 something to eat, yet neither of them had the courage to say that they 
 would take any. Then, by way of keeping them up to the mark, 
 Facey indulged in a tirade against luncheons generally, saying he 
 never took any — he hated to fritter away a good appetite piecemeal — 
 adding, that if a man was hungry, he had better dine at once, and not 
 make two bites of a cherry, as some did. 
 
 The last ray of hope being thus utterly extinguished, there was 
 nothing for it but to arise and depart; so, after a few observations 
 about the crops and the state of the country, Hazey gave the boy Bill 
 a wink, who forthwith used his leg like a mace, to draw his truant 
 hat from under the table, and Hazey, having clutched his arm, arose, 
 greatly in doubt, like the Watkinses, as to the right course to pursue, 
 whether to offer his hand, or wait for Mr. Boruford to tender his; 
 whether to go boldly up to Mrs. Somerville, and take his chance of a 
 shake, or to bow from where he stood, and so lose the intimation the 
 shake, if he got one, might convey. 
 
 Bomford, however, quickly cut the Gordian knot by tendering his 
 great heavy hand to them both, in turn ; while Mrs. Somerville, rising 
 from her violet- velvet throne, first rang the bell to summon the 
 servants, and then, folding her arms, gave a couple of those captivating 
 smiles and curtsies wherewith she used to express her gratitude to a 
 Surrey audience after an encore. Nothing could be better done, for 
 it relieved Mr. Hazey at once, letting him see that, though Mr. 
 Bomford was called upon, Mrs. Somerville would not consider herself 
 properly visited until Mrs. Hazey had been there. Then the smiles 
 were so sweet as to satisfy Mr. Hazey that she considered his part of 
 the compliment properly performed. So he backed gaily towards the 
 now opened door, treading heavily on the angry corns of old Balsam, who 
 happened to have obtruded his great foot in the way. Then Short, 
 seeing what had happened, took the lead towards the front door, 
 leaving the now string -halting Balsam to follow at his leisure. 
 
 " Away they go ! " said Bomford to Lucy, as the music-room door 
 closed, adding, " now let you and I go and see them off." So saying, 
 Facey led the way to a side door that communicated with the back 
 passage. 
 
 Lucy and he then ascended the back stairs, and taking up positions 
 on either side of the usual window of observation, generally occupied 
 by the Dirties, obtained a good view of the mount. 
 
 " It will be incumbent upon us to do that beggar," whispered Face} 
 to Lucy, as Hazey, with a clegage air, approached the blue-coated, 
 leather-breeched, cockaded groom, who now hurried his horses up to 
 
174 MR. FACEY ROMFORD'S HOUNDS. 
 
 the front door, whither the guests were conducted by Balsam, and 
 Short in due form. 
 
 " They tell me that's the biggest rogue under the sun," continued 
 Facey, as Hazey now swung himself carelessly into his saddle, and tit- 
 tupped away from the door, provoking the caper that he seemed to 
 chide. 
 
 Then, meeting old Balsam as they returned to the music-room, 
 Lucy complimented him upon his performance, while Facey gave him 
 a couple of ounces of shag, and a bottle of Lord Lovetin's Old Tom 
 gin to drink with it. 
 
 And as Hazey trotted gaily home, he thought to improve the occa- 
 sion by pointing out to his boy Bill the superiority of well-bred 
 people's manners over commoner ones, illustrating his position by a 
 comparison of Mrs. Somerville's with those of Airs. Watkins, greatly 
 to the advantage of Mrs. Somerville ; and there being now the chance 
 of an intercourse, Mr. Hazey promoted a call from his wife, cushioning 
 that inconvenient question, ""Who is Mrs. Somerville?" with a general 
 assertion that she was an extremely lady-like woman, who would be 
 a great acquisition in Doubleimupshire. And Hazey zeported most 
 favourably of the Beldon establishment, saying, that the butler was 
 out, but they were received by two most respectable-looking family 
 footmen, — not little, weedy, calveless shrimps, but great substantial 
 men, who looked as if they had lived in the family all their lives. 
 And Mrs. Hazey thought she would like to give them & mistress aa 
 well ub a master 
 
CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 JIB. AND MRS. WATKINS AGAIN. 
 
 The usual three days' law having elapsed, our friends at Dalberry 
 Lees began to look out for the return visit from our new master of 
 hounds and his elegant sister Mrs. Somerville, whereupon to found 
 the further ingratiation of an invitation to dinner. Mrs. Lubbins was 
 anxious to be doing, not having had an uproar for some time. But 
 from the circumstance of the tight-booted teapot-handle maker having 
 been mainly instrumental in resuscitating the Larkspur hunt under 
 the auspices of Mr. Eomford (believing him to be the other Mr. 
 Bornford), the honour of the opening meet would most likely have 
 been accorded to the gentleman " who hunted for conformity," viz., 
 Mr. AVa-tkins of Dalberry Lees, who gave his £100 a year to the 
 hounds, and paid it punctually, which, we are sorry to say, was more 
 than all the Doubleimupshireites did. However, the teapot -handle 
 maker had it, and the "Watkinses consoled themselves with the 
 reflection that Mr. Eomford would soon find out what upstarts the 
 Joseph Larges were, and appreciate them (the Watkinses) accord- 
 ingly. It, therefore, did seem rather strange that our captivating 
 heiress, Miss Cassandra Cleopatra, should array herself in her moeS 
 becoming attire, — one morning in cerulean blue, anotber in delicate 
 pink, a third in virgin white with puce trimmings, and that no Mr. 
 Eomford, no Mrs. Somerville, should draw near the scene of her 
 attractions. The Brogdales came, and the Bigmores came, and Mr. 
 and Mrs. Nackington came ; but they didn't want any of these. They 
 wanted Mr, Eomford — Eomford alone, if they could get him, if not, 
 with any other person. 
 
 But when Independent Jimmy let out as he did to Miss Florence 
 Brown, their lady's-maid, as he gave her a lift home on the buss from 
 Mother Floyd's, the wise woman of the district, whom she had been 
 to consult when she (Florence) would be married, that second-hand 
 Neddy, as Jimmy called Mr. Hazey, had been at Beldon Hall, Mrs. 
 "Watkins — all things considered — resolved that it was time to lay aside 
 ceremony, and go boldly in for their dues. The Larges had not been 
 punctilious, and she was quite sure the Hazey s wouldn't, &o she 
 
176 mr. facey romford's hounds. 
 
 wouldn't either. And the bloom having been taken off the introduc- 
 tory process by the Pippin Priory breakfast, Mrs. "Watkins resolved 
 not to wait any longer for the ceremony of the return call, but to 
 assume the neighboiirly fashion, and ask Mr. Eomford and his sister 
 Mrs. Somerville to come and dine, and stay all night at Dalberry Lees, 
 and let the hounds meet there on the morrow. 
 
 In truth, Lubbins had rather fallen off in her cooking for want of prac- 
 tice, and had it not been that the wages were large, and the " kitchen- 
 stuff" liberal, she would infallibly have been turning "Watkins's off; for 
 she was a show-off cook, and required the excitement of brandy and con- 
 stant display : she didn't undertake mere family dinners. The kitchen- 
 maid could do those. But as somehow people will not lend themselves 
 out for the mere purpose of eating and drinking and showing their 
 clothes, so the "Watkins's invitation became more and more shirked 
 (causing, we fear, a considerable amount of falsehood, too easily 
 detected in the countiy), until they could hardly raise a party at all, 
 In vain they protracted the length of their invitations, — drew upon 
 their acquaintances at three weeks instead of ten days or a fortnight. 
 It always came to the same thing in the end — the table had to be 
 shortened a third, if not full half; and the least desirable part of the 
 company only coming under these circumstances, the reader will 
 readily imagine how important it was to the "Watkinses, bent altogether 
 on ostentatious display, to make the most of such an attraction as a new 
 master of hounds — especially a master so favourably circumstanced as 
 the great Mr. Eomford of Abbeyfield Park andBeldon Hall, J.P., D. L., 
 patron of, &c. Miss, too, as we have said before, was marriageable ; 
 indeed had had two or three indifferent offers — a curate, a cornet, and 
 a nibble from a count, or a person who called himself one — though 
 some said he was only a courier. And hope deferred having made 
 Mrs. Watkins's heart rather sick, she resolved to be doing without 
 farther delay. So, having duly consulted Lubbins as to the state of 
 the larder, Miss Cassandra Cleopatra, who acted as amanuensis for 
 mamma, drew forth a sheet of her highly -musked cream-laid note- 
 paper, and with many twirls of the pen, and appeals to the ceiling for 
 inspiration, at length produced the following document : — 
 
 " Dalberry Lees, 
 " Tuesday. 
 
 " My deab. Mhs. Somerville, — If Mr. Eomford has not yet fixed 
 his meets for next week, would you oblige me by having one here, 
 and giving us the pleasure of your company the day before, when w« 
 will endeavour to get a few sporting neighbours to meet you ? Wa 
 
MR. AND MRS. WATKINS AGAIN. 177 
 
 dine <it seven; but, as there is no moon, pray come early. Mr. "Watkina 
 (who promises Mr. Romford a good fox) joins in kindest regards with 
 my dear Mrs. Somerville, 
 
 " Ever yours, very sincerely, 
 
 "Letitia. "Watkixs." 
 
 To which, in order to prevent any mistake, "Willy caused to be added 
 the following : — 
 
 " P.S. Of course you will stay all night." 
 
 The note, thus amended, was then sealed with the large butter-pat 
 seal of the "Watkins's arms — three rings, three doves, three bulls, four 
 bears, and five stags; and, after a division as to whether Lord Lovetin's 
 arms should be added or not, it was decided that it would be grander 
 to do so, and the note was ultimately addressed to — 
 
 "Mrs. Somerville, 
 " At the Right Honourable 
 
 " Lord Yiscount Lovetin's, 
 
 " Beldon Hall," 
 
 and despatched by a groom in the "Watkins's livery. 
 
 The note produced very different sensations in the mind of Mrs. 
 Somerville and her pseudo-brother Mr. Romford : Mrs. Somerville 
 was all for going to Dalberry Lees ; Mr. Pacey was all for staying at 
 home. He didn't feel comfortable out, he said. The napkin business 
 had rather upset him, Lucy having explained to him that they were 
 not meant to carry away ; and she had had the Pippin Priory one 
 washed and returned with a note, saying that her brother had taken 
 it away accidentally in his 'kerchief. Then Pacey hadn't a dress- 
 coat ; but Lucy would undertake that Tick would have one down in 
 no time. Still he demurred. The women bothered him. He didn't 
 know what to say to them. He didn't know how to get them in to 
 dinner. He didn't know how to get them out again. But Lucy 
 combated all the objections. She would tell him what to say; she 
 •would teach him what to do. He should have one of the Dirties in, 
 to practise with beforehand. Yery little talk did for the mistress of 
 the house, who was always too busy thinking about her dinner, and 
 praying that the sweets might come in safe, to pay much attention 
 to what was said. And so poor Pacey was at length obliged to submit ; 
 and having duly conned over his country as far as he knew it, he 
 determined to meet at Dalberry Lees on the Wednesday j which would 
 give him the non-hunting Tuesday to get there upon ; Whereupon 
 
178 MR. FACEY EOMFOEDS HOUNDS. 
 
 Lucy reciprocated the sweetness of Mrs. "Watkins's note, and sent her 
 answer back with the turbot-seal crest. She then wrote off to town 
 for a dress-coat for Facey, scarlet, with velvet collar and frosted 
 buttons ; and then began to consider what she herself should wear on 
 the important occasion. 
 
 Great was the joy at Dalberry Lees on receipt of the Beldon Hall 
 answer, and forthwith Miss "Watkins was reinstalled at her pembroke 
 writing-table, issuing the first batch of invitations for parties to come 
 to meet Mr. Romford and Mrs. Somerville at dinner on Tuesday next, 
 apologising for the shortness of the notice, and requesting the favour 
 of an early answer. And, as guests will come if you can only bait 
 the trap properly, — and there was a good deal of excitement and 
 curiosity in the country about the new master and his handsome 
 sister, — the party was soon made up, much to the joy of the Watkins' s 
 and the satisfaction of Mrs. Lubbins, who had really begun to think she 
 would never have another uproar worth mentioning at Dalberry Lees, 
 and who instantly commenced a grand scouring of the country for 
 consumables. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 DALBERRY LEES. 
 
 The "Watkins' s were now in their glory ; dressing and dinner-giving 
 being about the extent of Willy's ability, while the ladies thought 
 simpering and expanding their persons in preposterous crinolines were 
 the great end and aim of society. These are the people who exaggerate 
 a fashion till they make it ridiculous. They looked forward with 
 great pleasure to showing off their new dresses, and felt the importance 
 to be acquired by entertaining the new master. Mrs. Somerville, too, 
 was a charming woman ; and altogether they were most fortunate in 
 securing them. The outside plot thickened. So far from people 
 shirking them, as they used to do, they asked to be allowed to bring 
 friends, to exchange a son for a daughter, or vice versa. There was a 
 great desire to see Mr. Romford in a room. Some said he was a bear, 
 others that he was a beau. There was a great difference of opinion. 
 They wanted to judge for themselves. 
 
 The Romfords, on their part, set about maintaining their position. 
 Mr. Tick, of Civil Row, responded gallantly to Lucy's order, sending 
 Mr. Facey down a splendid scarlet dress-coat, with crimson velvet 
 
DALBERRY LEES. 179 
 
 collar, silk linings and facings ; also a pair of speculative black kersey- 
 meres and two white vests ready for putting on ; altogether rather a 
 striking get-up, and most handsomely packed in a new deal box, 
 directed to " Francis Romford, Esq., at the Lord Viscount Lovetin's, 
 ISeldon Hall. By passenger train." 
 
 Though the address of Beldon Hall alone was tolerably taking, still 
 Lucy found that the addition of the "Lovetin" title precipitated 
 orders very considerably. Indeed she felt as if she could have half 
 Loudon for sending for. And she was no niggard in her orders, either 
 for Facey, hc-r mother, or herself; writing for cloaks, Malta shawls, 
 mantles, muffs, and Spanish mantillas, for herself; Stiltons, and 
 bloaters, and nourishing stout — whatever the Lovetin cellar was with- 
 out — for Facey. 
 
 Whenever Lucy received an article of dress that she did not like, she 
 repacked it and sent it to Betsey Shannon, or some of her old stage 
 friends, as a present. Her dashed dresses she adapted to Buth Mustard 
 — Dirtiest of the Dirty, as she was originally called, but who, under 
 Lucy's skilful guidance, presently became " Cleanest of the Clean." 
 
 Buth, as we said before, was a pretty girl, — pretty even in deshabille, 
 — veiy pretty when cleaned and properly put on ; and she took to 
 lying as readily as she had done to picking and stealing. Though 
 Mrs. Somerville couldn't hope to pass her off at Dalberry Lees as any- 
 thing but a Mustard, still she held out to Buth that if her own maid, 
 Tvho she said was at Tunbridge Wells for the benefit of her health, did 
 not get better, Buth might, by due care and attention, be installed in 
 her veiy lucrative place ; so that Dirtiest of the Dirty was for the 
 present entitled to rank gs a lady's-maid m the table of precedence 
 amongst servants. 
 
 And to the now all-absorbing Dalberry Lees feast let us now devote 
 our attention. 
 
 It may seem strange in these gastronomic times, when a master of 
 hounds is supposed to be able to eat two or three dinners a day, that 
 Mr. Bomford should have got through so long a time with the Heavy- 
 side Hunt without ever having assisted at any of their festivities; but 
 so it was, and he had now all his duties in the eating line to learn and 
 perform. Of course he had often put in at Squire This or Farmer That's 
 for a " snack," and came out with a wedge of cheese in one hand and 
 a slice of bread in the other ; but those scrambles have no sort of 
 affinity to the stately solemnities of modern English dinner parties. 
 Lucy felt this, and greatly feared that her brother Bomford might 
 commit himself if he had net some little previous instruction ; a^d, 
 knowing the nature of rehearsals, she got up a drawing-room scene by 
 K h 2 
 
180 ME. FACEY ROMFORD'S HOUNDS. 
 
 seating Dirtiest of the Dirty in. a chair in the breakfast-room, while 
 Facey hovered near till Dirty ~No. 2 (supposed to be the "Watkins's 
 butler) entered the room and announced dinner ; whereupon Facey, 
 tendering his arm to Dirtiest of the Dirty, led her off to the JJcldon 
 Hall dining-room, just as he would have to lead off Mrs. "Watkins or 
 some other lady at the j>alberry Lees feast. As to talking, Lucy again 
 assured Facey very little conversation would do ; a few compliments 
 on the ladies' dress, or remarks on the weather, or the splendour of - 
 the house, being amply sufficient. All he had to mind was, if he came 
 after another lady, not to tread on her train. And after two or three 
 attempts, our master of the hounds accomplished the dining-room 
 manoeuvre pretty well, though he still did not like the idea of what 
 he had to go through after. 
 
 " All very well," muttered he, " tellin' one there's nothin' to do 
 after; it's very much like tellin' a man there's nothin' on the other 
 side of a fence, when perhaps there's a great yawnin' ditch big enough 
 to hold both him and his horse." 
 
 However, friend Facey felt he was committed to the engagement, 
 and, much as he disliked the idea, he must go through it with courage 
 and fortitude. " Grin and bear it," as he said. So he left the rest 
 of the arrangements to Lucy. 
 
 At length came the all-important day, and with it came Independent 
 Jimmy, and the melon frame, to convey our party to Dalberry Lees, — 
 Mr. Romford, Mrs. Somerville, and Dirtiest of the Dirty. 
 
 "Ye cannot all get in there," said Jimmy, looking round, as the 
 trio appeared at the door to follow their boxes into the frame. 
 
 "No: I'm goin' outside with you," replied Facey, chucking his 
 grey wing cape on to the box ; and, leaving Lucy and her maid to cram 
 in as they could, he bounded up, and was presently sharing the box- 
 seat apron with Jimmy. 
 
 " Gip /" said Jimmy, jerking his reins as he heard the door close ; 
 and away they rumbled, Jimmy applying the brake to the wheel down 
 the hill to the lodges, lest the vehicle should run the old weak nags off 
 their legs. They presently shot through them at a sort of shuffling 
 canter. 
 
 "Dalberry Lees," now announced Facey, as they got upon the 
 turnpike. 
 
 " Thout ye'd be gannin' there," replied Jimmy; "left some fish 
 and pea-soup there i' the mornin'." 
 
 "Soup and fish?" said Facey. "Don't they make pea-soup at 
 home?" 
 
 "A — why — yes," replied Jimmy, flourishing his flagelkto?'. " It 
 
DALBERRY LEES. 181 
 
 wasn't pea-soup; it was some stuff they get from Lunnon — tortlt they 
 call it; comes from the Ship and Tortle Tavern." 
 
 " The deuce ! " exclaimed Faccy, half afraid of the consequences; 
 " goin' to have a reg'lar blow-out, are they ? " 
 
 " Blow-out, ay ! bout up half the poltry in the country." 
 
 " Humph ! " grunted Mr. Romford, seeing his worst fears were 
 about to be realised. He had dreamt that he had tumbled over a 
 poodle in the drawing-room, and squirted a bottle of porter right into 
 a lady's face. " "Who's there goin' besides ourselves ? " asked Romford, 
 wishing to know the worst at once. " Better be killed than frightened 
 to death," thought he. 
 
 " A, why, the house is full ; and aire got to go for the Dobbinsons 
 after ar set ye doon, — and then for aud Mowser and the Dusts. 
 Arm sure ar don't know when ar shall get them all there." Saying 
 which, Jimmy gave each of his old nags a refresher Avith his whip, as 
 if to say, " Let us get ye set doon as quick as ar can." So they bowled 
 along at a somewhat amended pace. 
 
 There was indeed a great to-do at Dalberry Lees. It was so long 
 since the "Watkins's had had a great spread, that many things had 
 "gone to pieces quite cliver" in the hands of the servants since the 
 event. The late butler, for instance, had imposed upon ingenuous 
 "Willy by showing him a shelf full of lamp-glasses when he left, say- 
 ing he " 'Sposed he needn't take them all down," and when they came 
 to be wanted taken down they were all found to be broken, the wIioIg 
 sides having been placed outside for show. Many other departments 
 were in a similar state of dilapidation, so that the energies of the 
 family were by no means confined to the acquisition of fish, soups, 
 or poultry. Besides, a dinner party and a house full of company are 
 very different things. A dinner party can combine the united services 
 of the whole establishment ; whereas a house full of company scatters 
 the forces to the different departments, thus depriving the commander- 
 in-chief of any extra assistance. 
 
 Then, what with men who come without valets, men who come 
 without grooms, coachmen who won't wash their masters' carriages, 
 to say nothing of the requirements of those most elegant and sensitive 
 creatures, the ladies' maids — who are often much more difficult to please 
 than their mistresses, — the house is regularly turned up-side down. 
 The servants considering their characters for hospitality quite as much 
 involved as those of their masters, the only wonder is that anything 
 gets into the dining-room at all. On the last occasion, when W r illy 
 thought to have a nice dish of hashed venison for his dinner after the 
 comDany were gone, he found some lingering grooms had eaten it all for 
 
182 mr. facey romford's hounds. 
 
 their luncheons ! Very different are the toils of town hospitality to 
 those of the country. 
 
 But we are now approaching those magnificent crest-decorated lodges 
 that aroused Independent Jimmy's wrath on the occasion of the Rom- 
 fords' arrival, and the leafless trees show the glittering sun lighting 
 up thb many-windowed house as if for a complimentary illumination. 
 A rather winding approach through a few flat iron-fenced fields dis- 
 closes its further proportions ; not so fine as Pippin Priory, not so large 
 as Beldon Hall, but still very good and comfortable. Facey, however, 
 wished himself going away from it instead of coming. A few jip- 
 jips and jerk -jerks from Independent Jimmy lays the vehicle well 
 alongside the blue pipe-clayed steps of the sash-windowed front-door, 
 and Jimmy's ring immediately conjures up a tableau of livery footmen 
 with a portly butler in the background. The melon-frame compart- 
 ments then began to fold, slide, and recede, and the iron steps being 
 clattered down, first Lucy and then Dirty, being extricated from their 
 confinement, began to shake themselves out to their natural, or rather 
 unnatural, proportions. Mr. Romford, too, alights, and stamps and 
 flops himself generally — thinking that life would be very pleasant if it 
 were not for its enjoyments. 
 
 " Ar'll tac the luggage roond," now said Independent Jimmy, 
 regaining his bos, whereupon Lucy took Mr. Romford's arm, while 
 Dirtiest of the Dirty sheered off for the back settlements under convoy 
 of a passing page. The procession then proceeded. 
 
 " Mr. Romford and Mrs. Somerville," announced Lucy, slowly and 
 distinctly to Mr. Burlinson, the portly butler, who now duly received 
 them at the hands of his subalterns the footmen, and forthwith pro- 
 ceeded to pilot them along the passages just as he used to pilot tho 
 great guests at his late master's, Lord Omnibus, until the exigencies of 
 Burlinson's betting-book compelled him to pawn his lordship's plate. 
 Burlinson, like Bob Short, had undergone captivity ; but we will draw 
 a veil over all that. We are now going to raise the curtain for the 
 domestic tableau of "reception" — or, perhaps, "deception." 
 
 Although when the Romford- Somerville alarm-bell rang, Mrs. Watkins 
 was half choked with anger at Priscilla Pallister, the housemaid, for 
 not having the best lace-fringed toilet-cover on to Mrs. Somerville's 
 dressing-table, she yet managed to smother the remainder of her rage, 
 and had subsided into a luxurious cabriole frame chair in burnished 
 gold, covered in needlework, with a copy of the " Cornhill Magazine" 
 in her hand, when her visitors were heralded into her splendid drawing- 
 room by her obsequious butler. Miss, too, who had been busy examin. 
 ing the fit and folds of her new dress in her own cheval glass, 
 
DALBEEEY LEES. 183 
 
 had rushed down the back stairs and got herself settled to her harp, 
 Che exertion of running imparting a slight glow to her naturally pal? 
 cheek. Mrs. Watkins was so absorbed with her book that Burlinson 
 had opened the door and got his guests piloted half up the room, ere 
 she awoke to a consciousness of the presence of strangers, when, laying 
 down the number on the table, she hastily arose and advanced to meet 
 them. Standing on her own territory, surrounded with elegance and 
 splendour, she felt that now was her time to patronise ; so, meeting 
 Mrs. Somerville, she seized her eagerly with both hands and imprinted 
 a kiss on her right cheek. Facey stood transfixed, for he was not sure 
 but he ought to reciprocate the compliment ; but Lucy, anticipating 
 the dilemma, just drew him a little forward, saying, with a pressure on 
 his arm, " My brother, Mr. Eomford;" and the gobby girl then enter- 
 ing the room and joining the group, they got through the presenta- 
 tions without further confusion. Chairs were then the order of the 
 day. 
 
 If the half-hour before a London dinner party is a bore, pity, oh 
 pity, the sorrows of a man — a poor young man — condemned to two 
 mortal hours in the country before that interesting period. Tea has 
 somewhat come in to the relief of the ladies, but it does nothing for 
 men — especially those unaccustomed to take the bloom off their 
 appetites. Indeed it was rather a stumbling-block to friend Facey ; 
 for Mrs. Watkins, having proposed some to Lucy, who declined it, 
 said she supposed it was no use offering any to Mr. Eomford, where- 
 upon our master replied "£To; he'd come to dine, and not to tea," an 
 observation that the gobby girl giggled at, thinking it was meant to 
 be funny. 
 
 And here let us say a little more about our heroine — heroine No. 2, 
 at least, for we mean to be so extravagant as to indulge in two. If 
 Miss Cassandra Cleopatra would not have been picked out as a beauty 
 in a crowd, she would nevertheless have passed muster as an exceed- 
 ingly showy, handsomely-dressed girl, being well set up and set out, 
 with a calm, cool self-possession, betokening either perfect ease or 
 perfect indifference. Taken however singly, as we have her this even- 
 ing, without any competitor, surrounded by all the luxuries and ele- 
 gancies of life, she was calculated to make a speedy impression, and 
 as she lithped and talked, and lithped and talked, now about horthes, 
 now about houthes, Facey gradually and insensibly began to be attracted 
 by her. At first he thought her lisp was affected, and that she ought 
 to be whipped, but he soon got used to it, and then thought it rather 
 pretty indeed. He presently summoned up his observations by a 
 mental repetition of the opinion he delivered as he saw her getting 
 
184 MB. FACE"* IcOMFOKB's HOUNDS. 
 
 into the carriage at Beldon Hall, namely, that she was a good-like 
 lass. 
 
 "While all this was going on, Mr. "Willy Watkins, whose whole soul, 
 as we said before, was centered in dressing and dinner giving, was 
 taking his last survey of the dining-room, preparatory to handing it 
 over to Lieutenant-Colonel Burlinson. It was, indeed, a grand display. 
 There wasn't an article of plate in the house, except perhaps Willy's 
 silver shaving-box, but what was enlisted into the service, either on 
 the table or sideboards. 
 
 At length, having got everything most tastefully arranged on the 
 usual principle of appearing to have twice as much money as they had, 
 "Willy took a last lingering look, and then, passing noiselessly into 
 the passage, crowned himself with a drab wide-awake, with an eagle's 
 feather in the parti-coloured band, and came whistling along into the 
 drawing-room, as if unaware of any arrival. 
 
 " Ah, my dear Mrs. Somerville ! " exclaimed he, with well-feigned 
 surprise, advancing gaily towards her with extended hand, " I didn't 
 know you were come. Pray, 'scuese my not being in to receive you," 
 continued he, as he squeezed the pretty widow's little hand with con- 
 siderable em/pressement. Mrs. W. couldn't see that, he knew. 
 
 Then, without waiting for an introduction, he turned short upon 
 Facey, with his puddingy paw, and said, 
 
 " Most happy to see you, sir," shaking his hand as he said it. " I 
 hope you are quite well, Mr. Romford ? I hope your hounds are quite 
 well? I hope your horses are quite well?" Just as if they formed 
 part of the family. 
 
 Romford assured him they were all quite well, and would be ready 
 to bucket a fox for him in the niornin'. Whereupon the dreadful 
 word fox shot through Willy's heart like a dagger, and almost deprived 
 him of utterance. 
 
 "Why were foxes ever made?" thought he. "Confound their 
 nasty aroma ! Confound their nasty precipitation ! " 
 
 Then Facey, ever anxious to do business, began sounding him about 
 the game at Dalberry Lees : whether there were any pheasants, whethei 
 there were many hares ; if there would be any harm in his looking 
 over the place occasionally with his dog and his gun, meaning of 
 course, might he shoot there. And while the photographer in vain 
 endeavoured to read his wife's meaning by her looks, the waning day 
 was suddenly extinguished by th entry of the servants with lights- 
 lights — more lights. 
 
 This gave Mrs. Watkins an opportunity of saying, that perhaps 
 Mrs. Somerville might like to see her room; which offer being 
 

DALBERRY LEES. 1S5 
 
 joyfully accepted, the drop-scene presently fell on the first act of 
 the DaLbcrry Lees drama, by Mr. "Watkina leading Facey oif to his 
 apartment. 
 
 It must be a great relief to a lady getting away from the forced 
 conversation of the overture to the tranquillity of her own bedroom, 
 there to economise and rearrange her small talk, and contemplate the 
 coming glory — perhaps victory of dress. 
 
 On a spacious sofa, between the magnificent bed and the sparkling 
 wood and coal fire, lay a most voluminous coloured-ribboned and 
 twilled and flounced and flowered role, so puffy and distended that a 
 little distance would have made it look like a lady reclining at her 
 ease. 
 
 On a richly inlaid Indian work-table on the right, lay a splendid 
 wreath of pearls, with three important pendants. 
 
 " Oh, what loves of pearls ! " ejaculated Mrs. "Watkins, clasping her 
 hands, thinking how she would cut Mrs. Somerville down with her 
 diamonds. 
 
 Meanwhile, Mr. "Watkins having got Mr. Eomford into the state 
 bedroom, looked round with an air of complacency, hoping there was 
 everything our master wanted, adding, that there was plenty of time 
 to dress, the first gong not having sounded, and there would be half 
 an hour after that. And, having withdrawn, Facey, who could jump 
 into his clothes in ten minutes, thought, that as he might not get his 
 pipe after dinner, he had better have it before. So drawing a -lounging 
 chair to the fire, he dived into his side-pocket for the material, and 
 was presently blowing a cloud, with a grand illumination going on all 
 around. He didn't care for the candles — not he. A most scientific 
 roll of thunder then presently proceeded from the gong, reminding 
 Lucy of the cavern scene in Ber Freischutz, and noting the lapse of 
 time to friend Facey. Having finished his pipe, he then inducted 
 himself into his new clothes — so handsomely furnished on credit. 
 
 After a satisfactory contemplation of himself in the mirror, he at 
 length left the elegant room ; and, following the richly -patterned 
 crimson stair-carpet down below, he presently found himself in a 
 confluence of comers and stayers, all making for the drawing-room 
 door. There was Mr. Burlinson receiving the candle of one guest and 
 the name of another, while a couple of footmen stood bowing and 
 motioning the ladies to Mr. "Watkins's study, now made into a cloak- 
 room for them. Mr. Eomford then walked into the drawing-room 
 with the consequence of a master of hounds, combined with the air of 
 a man having a billet for the night. The man who sleeps where he 
 dines always has a sort of crow over the pumps and pocket-comb one, 
 
186 MR. fACEY EOMFORD'S HOUNDS. 
 
 who has to turn out in the cold — snow, blow, wind or rain, whatever 
 may have chanced to come in the meantime. "What a bore, turning 
 out and finding the country half a foot under snow — getting a shoefull 
 of it at starting by way of convincing one of the fact ! 
 
 CHAPTEK XL. 
 
 THE BALBEHHY LEES TTPROAB IN HONOUR OF 5TR. K03IF0RD. 
 
 People will talk to each other even up to the last moment — while 
 some even begin before a quick-eared departing listener is well out of 
 hearing. Mr. Romford, on entering the drawing-room, now disturbed 
 a covey of male and female inquisitives all clustered around Burke's 
 bulky book of the Landed Gentry, as it lay open on the richly-covered 
 side-table. We need scarcely say they were down on the letter "R" 
 — R, for Romford — Romford, here it is! — "Romford, Francis, Abbey- 
 field Park, J. P., D. L., patron of three livings" — that's your man. 
 
 It seems that old Miss Mowser, who knew, or pretended to know, 
 everything, had raised a doubt as to the identity of our hero, Miss 
 Mowser contending that the Abbeyneld Romford was a little man 
 with dark hair, whereas this Mr. Romford was said to be a big one 
 with red or gingery hair. ]Sot that she had ever seen either Mr. 
 
 Romford, but and here her narrative was interrupted by the entry 
 
 of the big Mr. Romford himself. Hush ! was then the word. The book 
 closed, and parties shied away from the table as if they had not been 
 looking at it, but at "Ye Manners and Customs of the English " 
 instead. Mr. "Watkins then advanced to do the duties of induction 
 by presenting some of the non-hunting portion of his patrons — Mr. 
 Romford, Mr. Lolley; Mrs. Romford, Mrs. Dobbinson ; Mr. Romford, 
 Mr. Dust ; and one gave him a bow, and another a hand, and a third 
 both bow and hand. Then some sportsmen came wriggling up ; men 
 whom he ought to know, but, somehow, could not identify without, 
 their coats and their caps ; and Pacey addressed one man as Silver, 
 who he ought to have called Salver ; and another, whose grandfather 
 had been a hatter, by his nickname of Mr. Pelt, instead of that of Mr. 
 Pinch. Altogether he was very uncomfortable, and felt he was 
 making a mull of it. "Why the deuce did he come ? He had plenty to 
 eat at home — drink too. He didn't know what to do ; whether to stand 
 by the Sre or sit on the sofa, or take up a paper and pretend to read. 
 
UPROAR IN HONOUR OF MR. ROMFORD. 1S7 
 
 Lu jy, on her part, was as cool and collected as a handsome, well- 
 dressed woman who has received the unanimous plaudits of the gods 
 of the Victoria Theatre might he expected to be, conscious that the 
 ladies must admire her new dress, whatever they thought of her 
 figure and complexion. The gentlemen, she knew, would admire those 
 and her figure not the less for being finely developed. So she twisted 
 and turned, and smiled, and showed her fine shoulders and her fine 
 teeth, and laid herself out for general admiration. And a good deal 
 of admiration she got, much to Miss Watkins's mortification, who did 
 not fancy being cut out in that way in her papa's own house. But 
 she would tiy if she couldn't upset Mrs. Somerville from Beldon Hall. 
 So she quietly bided her time. 
 
 At length Mr. Bnrlinson the butler's large white waistcoat was seen 
 looming up the room, without the customary convoy of guests, and 
 Mr. Watkins, who had previously requested friend Facey to take his 
 wife into dinner, having finished a platitude he was enunciating about 
 the state of the moon, now presented his great red arm to Mrs. Somer- 
 ville and led her off to the radiant apartment illuminated with the joint 
 efforts of fire, candles, and oil. It was a perfect blaze of light. Mrs. 
 Somerville having trod the passage, entered the dining-room with 
 measured step, like a Tragedy Queen, and subsided in her seat on Mr. 
 "Watkins's right. 
 
 Then Dirtiest of the Dirties' lessons operated favourably ; for Facey, 
 having seen Lolley, and Dobbinson, and Dust, the man whom he called 
 Silver (but Salver), Felt, and all duly passed off, brought up the rear 
 with Mrs. Watkins : our master inwardly hoping, as he crossed what 
 he called the vale of the entrance-hall, that — in schoolboy parlance — 
 her meat might presently stop her mouth. So they sailed majestically 
 up the spacious dining-room to the top of the table, where, by one of 
 those masterly manoeuvres that ladies understand so much better than 
 men, Facey found Cassandra Cleopatra spreading her napkin over her 
 voluminous dress on his right, just as Mrs. Watkins subsided in her 
 great arm-chair on the left. "Rot it," thought Romford, ''but I 
 shall be talked to death between you." He then picked the bun 
 out of his napkin, and spreading as much of the latter over his legs 
 as his fair friend's dress allowed him to do, lie took a glance down 
 the table to see what there was in the way of what he called 
 " grub." 
 
 " Humph ! I thought it had been a dinner," observed he, in tone of 
 disappointment, to his hostess ; " but there seems nothin' but fruit and 
 things, like a flower-show." 
 
 "Dinner d la Ilusse," replied Mrs. Watkins, thinking he waa 
 
188 me. facey romford's hounds. 
 
 joking, at the same time handing him a finely embroidered French 
 bill of fare. 
 
 " Ah, there's nothin' like a good cut at a round of beef when one's 
 hungry," observed Facey, laying it down again. 
 
 A servant, with two plates of soup, then asked him whether he 
 would take thick or clear turtle ? 
 
 " Thick," replied Facey, thinking it would be the most substantial 
 of the two. 
 
 The servant then set it down before him. 
 
 " Here ! give us both ! " exclaimed he, seeing how little there was 
 in the plate he had got. He then took the other and placed it in front 
 of him until he was done with the first. And he supped and slushed 
 just like one of his own hounds. 
 
 "What's this stuff?" now demanded Facey, as a servant offered 
 him a green glass of something. 
 
 "Punch, sir," replied the man. 
 
 " Set it down," replied Romford, continuing his soup. Having 
 finished both plates of turtle, he quaffed off the glass, and was balancing 
 himself on his chair, raking the guests fore and aft, and considering 
 whether mock-turtle or real turtle was best, when his lisping friend 
 on his right interrupted his reverie by asking him if he was fond of 
 flowers. 
 
 "Whoy, yes," replied Facey, carelessly, "they are well enough in 
 their way," adding, " and I'm fond of hounds, but I don't like havin' 
 them in the dinner-room." 
 
 Miss saw she had made a wrong cast, so did not follow up the 
 inquiry by pointing out the beauty of the heaths and geraniums in 
 the blue and silver vase before her, as she intended doing. 
 
 Facey then got some fish, not so much as he liked, but still he 
 would take it on account. So, helping himself copiously to lobster- 
 sauce — taking nearly half the boat — he proceeded to attack his turbot 
 with great avidity. 
 
 Then came some hock and white hermitage ; next, some incompre- 
 hensible side-dishes, or rather entrees, for, of course, they never got on 
 the table at all; then some sparkling Moselle and Burgundy, followed 
 by more anonymous viands, of all of which Facey partook greedily, 
 not knowing but that each chance might be the last. And when he 
 had about ate to repletion, and was balancing himself as before on his 
 chair, a servant came and offered him some mutton, which he couldn't 
 resist, saying, as he took it, " I wish 3-ou'd brought me that at first." 
 Next came the " sweets and dry," to which he paid tbe same compli- 
 ment, of wishing it had come before, observing confidentially to Mrs 
 
UPROAR IN HONOUR OF MR. ROMFORD. 189 
 
 Watkins, that he thought champagne was just the host white wino 
 there was, adding, that Lucy and he managed a Dottle between them 
 almost every hunting-day. Meanwhile Miss Cassandra, baffled with 
 her flowers, but anxious to be doing, thought to ingratiate herself by 
 asking him a pertinent question connected with the chase; namely, 
 whether he liked ladies hunting? 
 
 "No — hate it," replied he, with a frown and an angry shake of his 
 broad shoulders. 
 
 Miss was glad of that, for she was something like Mrs. Eowley 
 Rounding, better adapted for driving than riding. So she said she 
 thought ladies had no business out hunting. 
 
 "Dangerous enough for the men," replied Facey, filling his mouth 
 full of potato ; adding, "besides, they're always gettin' in the way." 
 
 Having finished his mutton, they now offered him some turkey. 
 Facey eyed it intently, wishing it, too, had come before. " Well — 
 no," said he, after a pause, " ar can't eat any more ! " So saying, he 
 dived his hands into his trousers pockets, and stretched out his legs, as 
 if he was done. But his persecution was not over yet. 
 
 After another round of " sweet or dry," the game began to circulate 
 — grouse, woodcocks, partridges, snipes — to all of which offers our 
 master returned a testy negative. " No ! no ! " exclaimed he, upon a 
 third tease, " ar've had enough." 
 
 Still there were the sweets to come — sweets without end — sweets in 
 every sort of disguise — for Lubbins was great in that line. And they 
 baited Facey with creams and jellies, and puffs and pastry, till he was 
 half frantic. 
 
 "A man should have ten stomachs instead of one," muttered he, 
 " to stand such work." 
 
 He thought the dinner never would be done : he had never been so 
 tormented before. If that was high life, he didn't want any more of 
 it. Give him his victuals when he wanted them — what he wanted, 
 and no more. Rot the fellow ! there he was again ! 
 
 Footman (with a silver dish). — " Little fondieu, sir?" 
 
 Facey. — " No, ye beggar ! I don't want any more ! " growled he. 
 
 And, if it had not been for the look of the thing, Miss would quite 
 as soon that our hero had not been so interrupted, for it interfered 
 greatly with the progress of her proceedings. "Whenever she thought 
 she was what Facey would call well settled to the scent, a servant was 
 sure to come and put her out. She wanted to know if he liked musio 
 — she wanted to know if he liked dancing — she wanted to know if ha 
 liked archery. 
 
 At length there were symptoms of a lull. The chopped cheese 
 
190 mr. facey romford's hounds. 
 
 having made its circuit, was duly followed by Port wine, Beaujolais, 
 Badminton cup, bitter and sweet ales ; and Facey began to feel a 
 little more comfortable. His roving pig -eyes raked either side of the 
 table — now glancing at Lolly, now at Miss Mowser, now at Felt, now 
 at Salver, now at Lucy, and anon at Mrs. Watkins. Then they 
 reverted to his fair neighbour on his right. " Good-looking lass," 
 thought he, examining her minutely behind. ■' Good head and neck, 
 good shoulders;" just as he would look at a horse. And at that 
 moment a thought struck him that she might be his 
 
 " Cream or water ice, sir ? " now asked a footman. 
 
 "Who said I wanted either? " growled Facey, just as he would to 
 a shopkeeper who asked him, " "What's the next article, sir? " 
 
 Miss, who thought that ices made her nose red, declined any also ; 
 and, passing her napkin across her rosy lips, she prepared for a little 
 probing. 
 
 " Is Beldon Hall comfortable ? " lisped she. 
 
 " Oh, yes," replied Facey, " comfortable enough ; more room than 
 we want, a good deal." 
 
 "It's a good thing to have plenty of room," lisped the lady. 
 
 "Not if you've to fix it," replied Facey. 
 
 " Is Abbeyfield large ? " asked Miss. 
 
 "Tol-lol," replied Facey. "Make up twenty or five -and- twenty 
 beds, p'r'aps." 
 
 " Indeed ! " lisped Miss. " That's a good many." 
 
 "Master of hounds must be prepared for chance visitors," observed 
 he. " Never know how many you'll sit down to dinner till the day 
 comes." 
 
 Miss thought she would like that. 
 
 " Is there a good neighbourhood ? " 
 
 " Much the same as elsewhere;" adding, "people all get sucned 
 up to London, now-a-days." 
 
 " London's a charming place!" ejaculated Miss "Watkins ; "but I 
 never can get par and mar to go there." 
 
 " I don't think so," replied our master. " Give me the country 
 — give me huntin', and shootin', and fishin'," added he ; " and oi'l 
 give moy share of Lunnon to any one who likes it." 
 
 Just then a persecution of fruit commenced — pineapple, grapes, and 
 Jersey pears arrived — thus making a break in the conversation, and 
 removing the occasion of an argument on the London point. Miss 
 wanted to coincide, if she could ; and, luckily, a most fortunate 
 subject came to her aid — she touched the right chord at last: "Was 
 Mr. Romford musical ? ' ; 
 
UrEOAR IN HONOUR OF MR. ROMFORD. 191 
 
 "Very!" replied Facey, brightening up; "play the flute 
 beautiful!" — [Of all broken- winded, asthmatical artistes, Facey 
 Romford was the most dreary and forlorn; still he flattered himself, 
 if he had set up as a professor, he would have made a great fortune !] 
 "Very," replied he. " Play the flute beautiful," was the answer he 
 gave to Miss "VVatkins's inquiry. 
 
 "Indeed!" rejoined she, smiling. "I wish you would come and 
 accompany me sometimes." 
 
 " "Well," said he, "oi'l do that with pleasure." 
 
 " Can you pla)^ Blumenthal's Priere des Maielots?" 
 
 "'No; but oi can play "Dixie's Land," "Old Bob Ridley," and a 
 heap of other pop'lar airs. Nobody knows what flute-playing really 
 is, who hasn't heard me." 
 
 And the science of " eating made easy " having been further de- 
 veloped by Burlinson helping them all round to a glass of wine and 
 offering them another, an ominous lull suddenly took place in the 
 conversation, and all the guests arose simultaneously — the gentlemen 
 standing a pace or two back, while the ladies extricated their enormous 
 crinolines from under the table. Then, the door being opened by the 
 obsequious host, Mrs. Somerville sailed out of the room, with the 
 «ame stately air with which she entered it ; and, after a little of the 
 usual mock-modesty about each not going first, Mrs. "Watkins at length 
 got the whole party collected, and drove them before her like a flock 
 of sheep. And, having returned them back into the radiant drawing- 
 room, she devoted herself to the development of her Beldon Hall 
 friend ; while the gentlemen closed up at the table, to see what they 
 could make of old Facey. Lucy played and sang in the drawing-room, 
 and Facey talked about hunting in the dining one, acquitting them- 
 selves with considerable ability. 
 
 The ladies thought Mrs. Somerville would be pretty, if it wasn't for 
 her affected manner ; and Facey delivered a lecture to the men on the 
 character and habits of the fox, very much in the style of a game- 
 keeper. Though they might think his manner queer, they couldn't 
 gainsay his facts. 
 
 At length our friend, who was no drinker, having passed the wins 
 two or three times, asked his host if he hadn't better " stop the tap " ? 
 and, the proposition seeming to meet with general approval, there was 
 another unanimous rise from the table, and a general consultation of 
 whiskers and ties. They then followed Mr. Romford out of the room, 
 who led the way, as he said, to the holloa of the distant music in the 
 drawing-room. Very clear and sounding it was ! How he wished he 
 had brought his flute — would have tickled his trout in no time ! He 
 
192 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 then opened the door, and astonished himself with a blaze of light— 
 fourfold what it was when he left. 
 
 Then came a charge of tea and coffee trays and cakes, and every- 
 thing a man doesn't want; and Facey was hunted about till he almost 
 upset one. "Rot it, if this is pleasure," muttered he, when the 
 Curaqoa man came with his picturesque bottle, " ar don't want any 
 more of it." And he was heartily glad when the sound of wheels 
 -mtside the house proclaimed the coming conclusion ; still more happy 
 when the footmen began announcing the carriages, and the Pater- 
 familiases commenced beckoning their wives and daughters, and talking 
 about not keeping their valuable horses waiting, standing shivering 
 and shaking in the cold. 
 
 At length, after many trots to the front door, Mr. Watkins got the 
 last of the leavers away ; and, it not being prudent to indulge in the 
 usual worry before strangers and remanets, after a slight discharge 
 of seltzer and soda, the instincts of all the party seemed to point 
 towards bed. So there was a general bobbing and cooing, and bidding 
 of good-nights — with hopes that Mrs. Somerville and Mr. Romford 
 found everything in their rooms that they wanted. And, as the only 
 thing Mr. Facey particularly wanted was his pipe, and he had that 
 with him, he unhesitatingly answered "Yes." And he went along, 
 knocking his knees together, well pleased that the penance was over. 
 Barring the mistake of old Felt, he didn't know that he had done so 
 far amiss. Callin' Salver Silver, was nothin' — -just a slip of the tongue ; 
 but the other was awkward : however, it couldn't be helped. So, 
 taking off and putting his new dress scarlet carefully away in the 
 wardrobe, he resumed his morning jacket; and drawing a luxuriously- 
 cushioned easy-chair right in front of the fire, he adjusted and lit his 
 pipe, and then soused himself down in its voluminous depths to enjoy 
 his sublime tobacco. 
 
 "Well," mused he to himself, as he puffed and smoked; "well, 
 old boy, you are well laid in here — that white-shouldered girl is 
 evidently in love with you ! Quite inclined to meet you half way, 
 old gal \" 
 
 It may seem strange that it should not have occurred to a fox- 
 hunting fortune-hunter like Mr. Romford, that Miss Cassandra 
 Cleopatra Watkins was the very sort of girl he was in search of; but 
 then the reader must take into account the fact that he was a perfect 
 stranger in the country, with no one but Independent Jimmy to give 
 aim any information, and that neither Mrs. Somerville nor her mother 
 were at all likely to forward any matrimonial arrangement. 
 
 So Mend Facey was left a good deal to his own devices, — to pick up 
 
UPROAR IN HONOUR OF MR. ROMFORD. 193 
 
 what he could from this person and from that; and, having picked it 
 up, to put that and that together, so as to make a reliable story of the 
 whole. 
 
 To he sure, Miss Cassandra Cleopatra was good enough to inform 
 him, very early in the day, that she was an only child ; hut there were 
 a good many more things that Mr. Facey would like to know, and that 
 she could not inform him of — where the money was, for instance ; 
 whether it was settled, and so on ; above all, how much there was 
 of it. 
 
 "The mother-fa m Mas, too, seems to he quite agreeable! "Wonder 
 what the father would say? That confounded uncertificated bankrupt," 
 as he called his host, " is far too young," continued he. "Wonder if 
 there's any way, now, of playin' at leapfrog with the money — passin' it 
 over the present holder's back, so as to prevent his spendin' it, and 
 securing it to some one beyond ? Should think there was," continued 
 he, blowing a voluminous upward cloud, after a long-drawn respiration. 
 " The lawyers can do almost anything — anything except make a scent! 
 Scent's a queer thing ! " continued he ; " dash'd if it isn't. "Wonder if 
 we'll have one to-morrow?" And then he emitted another great cloud, 
 thinking as he did it that there would be a scent in the room, at all 
 events. Hoped the next comer would like tobacco ! 
 
 And having thus done his best to secure him the luxury, and 
 exhausted his pipe in a further consideration of the fertile subject of 
 scent, our friend at length undressed and turned into bed, at twenty 
 sninutes to twelve. 
 
CHAPTEK XLI. 
 
 THE HUNT BREAKFAST. 
 
 Mr. Romford awoke at daybreak the next morning witt a parched 
 mouth and a somewhat winey headache ; not at all himself, in fact. The 
 late dinner and multiplicity of dishes had disagreed with a gentleman 
 accustomed to early hours and simple fare. He had never tried such 
 a mixture before ; " meat, puddin', and cheese " (all the delicacies of 
 the season, as the sailor said), being the utmost extent of his wants. 
 
 But that he had been gradually inducted into magnificence through 
 the instrumentality of Beldon Hall, he would now scarcely have known 
 himself, stretched in a great canopy-topped state bed in a noble room, 
 with brilliant chimney-glass, splendid cheval one, tapestry carpet, and 
 •every imaginable luxury. "What did a man want with so many baths, 
 who always took a header when he was heated ! 
 
 Of course the capital Louis Quinze clock on the marble mantel- 
 piece did not go, so Facey appealed to his own great silver watch under 
 the pillow to know what o'clock it was, and finding it wanted several 
 hours to breakfast, he did not see any reason why, because the bed 
 was a fine one, he should lie in it longer than he liked ; so he bounded 
 out, and making for a window, proceeded to reconnoitre the landscape. 
 
 "Aye," said he to himself, after an identifying stare, "that is 
 Wavertree in the distance, the village with the spire is Dronefield, 
 and the white house beyond will be Mr. Bullinger's, of Prestonworth." 
 
 So he settled the matter satisfactorily in his own mind, and then 
 moved the previous question, — namely, that he should dress. But 
 where were his clothes ? They had taken them away to brush, or 
 perhaps mop up the beer-slops with in the servants' hall, and then 
 fold and return, and there was nothing for him but the choice between 
 his hunting things and dress ones. Neither of those would do, so he 
 must try to recover the Tweeds. But they had put the bell where 
 nobody could find it ; and Facey had to cast about as he would for 
 the scent of a fox. When he did find it, nobody would answer it ; 
 for the girl in charge of the numbers merely announced " Number one 
 bell" in the hall, and every servant who heard her concluded that the 
 occupant of such a magnificent apartment — the best room — would be 
 
THE HUNT BREAKFAST. ]95 
 
 6ure to have a valet to answer it, and thought no more of the matter. 
 And when Facey, having taken another rather fretful survey of the 
 landscape, returned again to the charge, an exclamation of " Number 
 one bell ! " was all that the ring produced ; and so on for a third. 
 
 " Rot the fellow ! " exclaimed Facey, swinging round with vexa- 
 tion; and after taking a turn about the spacious apartment, he at 
 length settled before his hunting clothes. " S'pose I must put them 
 on," said he, taking up the Bedford cords, and proceeding to jump into 
 his other clothes in the promiscuous sort of way of a man going to bathe. 
 He then opened his door, and emerged from his room in search of adven- 
 tures. The landings and staircase were only half awake ; and when he 
 got down-stairs he found everything in the uncomfortable state familiar 
 only to early, too early, risers. One housemaid on her knees pipeclaying 
 the passage, another raising a cloud of dust with her broom; rugs, mats, 
 pails, dusters, all higgledy-piggledy — everything in the height of con- 
 fusion. The fine overnight footmen were hurrying about in caps and all 
 sorts of queer clothes, bearing trays full of plate, linen, and china, — the 
 ingredients of another great spread. "Worming his way cautiously among 
 the obstacles, Facey at length reached the front-door, and emancipating 
 himself from the house, was presently in the fresh air. Very fresh and 
 pleasant it was, and most grateful it felt to his fevered frame. 
 
 " Oh, Francis Eomford, my beloved friend," said he, "you had too 
 much wine last night. Oh, Francis Romford, this dinin' out doesn't 
 suit you. Oh, Francis Romford, it's a great luxury to have just what 
 you want to eat and drink, and no more. Oh, Francis Romford, it's bad 
 to hunt with a sore head. Huntin' and drinkin' are two men's work." 
 
 Then he thought a pipe would do him good; and a pipe he 
 accordingly proceeded to take, sauntering along the fine Kensington 
 gravelled drive as he made the necessary preparation for a smoke. 
 This brought him within sight of the stables, — a well-built, rough- 
 cast range, with coach-houses in the centre. 
 
 "Humph ! not bad-like quarters," said Facey, eyeing them. " Have 
 seen good horses come out of much worse stables than those." And 
 thereupon he determined to inspect them. Making for the range on 
 the right, he found himself among the greys in the coachman's stable, 
 with the great Mr. Spanker sauntering about, superintending the 
 stablemen in the " you-do-your-work " sort of air of a man who does 
 nothing himself. Pugs, cobs, and coachmen were things Mr. Romford 
 eschewed. Pugs he looked upon as eyesores ; cobs he never knew the 
 use of; and coachmen, he thought, were men who would be grooms, 
 only they were too lazy. A very slight inspection of the greys, there- 
 fore, satisfied him ; and returning Mr. Spanker's salute with an air of 
 
 o 2 
 
196 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 indifference, he turned on his heel, and sought the other side of the 
 stable. Spanker, however, recognised hirn, and said to his helper, 
 " That is the Tarry gent as came up through the grating arter the 
 rats when we was at Beldon 'All." 
 
 When, however, Facey got into the hunting stable, he felt himself 
 at home ; and Gullpicker, the presiding genius (a Melton man, whom 
 nobody would have at Melton), seemed impressed with the importance 
 of his visitor. He raised his cap most deferentially, and Facey having 
 returned a nod, and a voluminous puff of smoke, then proceeded to* 
 criticise the horses. 
 
 There were four well-shaped, well- conditioned bays, well-clothed, 
 well-littered, well done by in every respect except well-ridden. In this 
 latter indulgence they were sadly deficient ; indeed the two that the 
 man who hunted for conformity was going to ride that day, had been 
 out, getting the fiery edge taken off them with a gallop on the green. 
 There were now a couple of straps at work upon either side of them, 
 each hissing and thumping as if they would stave in the horses' ribs. 
 Willy was ail for having everything as it should be, and Gullpicker 
 was the man to accommodate him. It took two men to strap a horse 
 properly, Gull said, so two to a horse Gull had. It is strange how 
 some fellows get places by merely trading on a name. If Gullpicker 
 had come from Manchester, Musselburgh, or any other place beginning 
 with an "M," Willy would never have thought of him; but coming 
 from Melton, he concluded he must be all right, and so gave him 
 eighty pounds a-year and his house. A livery-stable keeper would 
 have given him twelve shillings a-week, and would most likely have 
 turned him off at the end of the first one. 
 
 Eomford now stuck out his great legs, and proceeded to question 
 the worthy, and very soon wormed out the secret of the stable, — which 
 was a hard 'bss, which was a soft 'un, which was a show 'un. The 
 show 'un was master's special favor^, the man said, whom he described 
 as a very shy rider ; indeed, the groom thought if it wasn't for the sake 
 of wearing the red coat, Mr. Watkins would never go out hunting at all. 
 And Facey said, that was the case with a good many men he knew, 
 adding, that it would be a good thing not to let any man ride in scarlet 
 until he had ridden three years in black. 
 
 The servants' breakfast bell now rang a noisy peal, for the Watkinsea 
 considered it incumbent upon them to let all the neighbourhood know 
 when there was any eating going on ; and Facey having mastered his 
 subject, jerked his head at the groom, who renewed his deferential 
 salute as our master rolled out of the stable. A master of hounds is 
 always a hero in a groom's eyes. 
 
THE HUNT BREAKFAST. 197 
 
 When lie returned to the house, it had got into more comfortable 
 order. The scrapers and door mats were restored to their proper 
 places, the mops and pails had disappeared, and a partially revised 
 footman was brushing and arranging the hats in the hall. To him Facey 
 communicated his lavatorial wants, and was forthwith reconducted up- 
 stairs and introduced to the dressing-room of his apartment, where he 
 found such an array of baths, foot, hip, shower, as to a man who 
 always took a header seemed quite incomprehensible. Discarding all 
 these, he requested the footman to get him some hot water, wherewith 
 and by the aid of a razor and soap, he proceeded to divest himself of the 
 superfluous portion of his cane-coloured beard, and then treated his 
 pretty face to a wash in the fine mazarine blue and white china basin, 
 thinking all the while what old Gilroy would say if he saw him. 
 
 Very queer his old fourpenny shaving brush, and twopenny soap- 
 box, — to say nothing of his horn comb and shabby hair-brush, — looked 
 on the fine lace-pattern toilet cover, lined with blue silk, and edged 
 ■with Honiton lace. Very different was the toilet glass, with its carved 
 frame and spiral supporters, compared to the few square inches of 
 thing in which he used to contemplate his too fascinating face at the 
 Dog and Partridge, or the "West-End Swell. And Facey wandered 
 backwards and forwards between the bed and dressing room, surveying 
 his irresistible person first in one mirror and then another, thinking 
 what a killing-looking cock he was. 
 
 The noisy gong presently interrupted the inspection, and looking at 
 his watch he found it only wanted twenty minutes to ten, and at half- 
 past the hounds would be due before the door. Tearing himself away 
 then from the mirror, he opened the door and proceeded down-stairs, 
 encountering his lisping friend full in the face at the junction of the 
 flights. 
 
 " Good morning, Mither Romford," said she, extending her pretty 
 white hand as she spoke. 
 
 " Good mornin', Miss," replied Face)-, taking and squeezing it, 
 adding, "I declare you look quite bewitchin' in this fine new thingum- 
 bob," taking hold of it as he spoke. 
 
 Miss smiled, and showed her pretty pearly teeth, fresh from the 
 application of the dentifrice ; and while Facey was busy staring and 
 turning a compliment, Mrs. Dust's unlucky maid opened the green- 
 baized door communicating with the back-stairs, and spoilt the pro- 
 duction. Miss then gave a whisk of her crinoline, and the two 
 concluded the descent of the staircase together. On entering the 
 dining-room, they found the heads of the house busily engaged super- 
 intending the final arrangements of the table, — marshalling the plate. 
 
198 mr. facet romford's hounds. 
 
 adjusting the flower vases, pointing out the positions for the egg 
 stands, and the places for the toast, the twists, the tea cakes — the 
 light artillery generally. 
 
 " Good morning, my dear Mr. Romford," exclaimed Mrs. Watkins, 
 advancing gaily and tendering her hand to our master, quite pleased 
 to see him and her smiling daughter arriving so amicably together. 
 
 "Good morning, Romford : how are you?" exclaimed Willy, now 
 seizing Facey' s hand in the hail-fellow-well-met of a brother fox- 
 hunter; adding " here's a fine day — hope there'll be a good scent." 
 
 " Oh, yes, and a good fox, too," rejoined Mrs. "Watkins. 
 
 "Hope so," said Facey; adding "I'll give a good account of him 
 if there is." 
 
 "Do," exclaimed Willy; "in 'Bell's Life' and the 'Field.'" 
 
 "Hut! you and 'Bell's Life,' " growled Facey in disgust. 
 
 The large richly-chased silver Queen' s-patterned teakettle now came 
 hissing into the room, with its corresponding teapot, sugar-basin, and 
 cream ewers, and simultaneously an antique melon-pattern coffeepot, 
 with similar accompaniments, alighted at the low end of the table. 
 Honey, jellies, jams, then took up positions at regular intervals in 
 support of the silver cow-mounted butter-boats, and next long lines of 
 cakes, muffins, buns, rolls, toasts, filled up the interstices. 
 
 A Westphalia ham, a Melton pie, and a fate de foie gras mounted 
 the plate-garnished sideboard, just as Mrs. Somerville came sailing in, 
 and the first ring was heard at the front door bell. 
 
 Mrs. Watkins, having greeted Mrs. Somerville Avarmly, hoping she 
 had slept well and not been disturbed by the wind, then backed her into 
 her overnight seat by her husband, and, sailing up the room, installed 
 herself in her own chair, with Facey on her right again and Cassandra 
 next to him, just as Burlinson brought up the first comers, in the persons 
 of young Brogdale, Mr. Tuckwell, and Mr. Horsington, who, after smrrJi- 
 ing and smiling, subsided into seats and began eating as if they had not 
 tasted food for a week. Some people never miss a show meet. 
 
 Ring — ring — ring — ring ; ring — ring — ring — ring — ring ; ring — 
 ring — ring — ring — ring — ring then went the bell, each particular man 
 seeming to think it necessary to ring for himself, though the door was 
 yet open for his predecessor. Then whips of all sorts clustered toge- 
 ther, and pyramids of hats and caps rose in the passage ; and the cry 
 was still "They come — they come!" Gayslap, and Rumball, and 
 Botherton, and Brown, and West, and young Felt, and old Muggles- 
 wick, and we don't know who else besides. 
 
 Great was the variety of hunting costume, great the run on the cups 
 and saucers to supply the ii-uests of the wearers. "Cream, if you 
 
THE HUNT BREAKFAST. 199 
 
 please." "Have you got any sugar?" "May I trouble you for the 
 salt?" Then arose a surge of mastication that was quite opposed to 
 the idea of the parties having breakfasted before. It was pretty much 
 a repetition of the Pippin Priory performance, only the appointments 
 were finer and grander. Mrs. Watkins had no idea of being outdone : 
 only let her know what the Larges had, and she would soon get some- 
 thing better. If they had had a boar's head, Mrs. Watkins would 
 have had a bull's or a buffalo's. 
 
 Facey, though not quite happy, was yet far more comfortable than 
 he had been overnight, or when he run the gauntlet of inquisitive 
 eyes as he made his way up the breakfast -room at Pippin Priory. 
 Here he sat somewhat like a gentleman taking his ease in a penny chair 
 in Hyde Park, having the population paraded before him, and if the 
 servants would only have let him alone, he would have done pretty 
 well ; but either the butler persecuted him with buns, or the footman 
 teased him with toast, or Miss lisped something that he couldn't 
 understand, and was obliged to ask her to say over again, so that the 
 act of deglutition proceeded slowly and irregularly. He was accus- 
 tomed to swallow his breakfast like a foxhound. All he wanted was 
 to get it down, and then pocket a crust for future want, and be off. 
 
 Meanwhile more gentlemen came stamping and clanking in from all 
 quarters, in red coats, and green coats, and black coats ; in white boots, 
 and brown boots, and black boots, all apparently ravenous and settling 
 to the viands as soon as, having bobbed to the ladies, they could get 
 seated at the table. Some stuck to the sideboard, trying the noyeau, 
 the creme de Yanitte, the parfait amour, the cherry brandy, and so on. 
 The Watkinses didn't give champagne, they were told it wasn't 
 fashionable. Sip, sup, slop, clatter, patter, clatter, patter, was the 
 order of the day. More tea, more toast, more coffee, eggs, muffins, 
 and butter. Many people will give away any amount in victuals, 
 from whom you could not get a penny in cash if it was ever so. 
 
 At length there was a lull ; some stuck out their legs, others began 
 exploring their mouths with their toothpicks, some again arose and 
 began looking about the room at the various family pictures, Mrs. 
 Watkins in a green satin dress, Miss in a yellow silk one, Willy in a \ 
 hunt coat, Willy in a dress coat, Willy in a shooting coat. Then there 
 was a move to the window. The hounds had just come, attended by 
 the usual cavalcade, and Facey rushed to see what sort of equilibrium 
 the servants presented. All seemed right. 
 
 There was Daniel — the Eight Honourable the Hurl of Scamperdale's 
 Daniel — sitting erect on that uncomfortable-actioned horse Oliver 
 Twist; there was Chowey — insinuating Chowey- -relaxing and con.- 
 
200 mr. facey romford's hounds. 
 
 tracting his extraordinary proboscis as if lie was going to kiss all 
 creation; and there was the strong persevering man who cleaned 
 horses, riding that noble long-tailed brown horse Bounding Ben, whose 
 only fault was that he could not be relied upon for bounding. Alto- 
 gether a most respectable looking party, and greatly indebted to Tick. 
 Then as Miss was lisping her admiration of the establishment to Mr. 
 Romford, the hum of conversation was interrupted by her mamma 
 rushing wildly up the room exclaiming, — 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Romford ! oh, Mr. Watkins! oh, Mr. Romford ! I am so 
 shocked — I am so distressed — I hardly know what to do. I wrote to 
 that tiresome Mr. Castangs to send us a fox — a Quornite, if he 
 could — and there's none come ! — and there's none come ! Was there 
 ever anything so provoking ! — was there ever anything so provoking ! 
 Oh, what shall we do, Mr. Watkins ? — what shall we do, Mr. 
 Romford?" continued Mrs. "Watkins, appealing imploringly first to 
 one and then to the other. 
 
 "Willy, of course, didn't know what to do, and Facey was too dis- 
 gusted to answer the question ; in addition to which, a giggle of 
 laughter ran through the room, showing the position was appreciated. 
 So, looking at his watch, and seeing it was a few minutes past time, 
 he gladly tendered his adieux, hurrying out of the room, exclaiming to 
 Mrs. Somerville as he got to the door, " I say, Lucy, mind, pork chops 
 and smashed potatoes for dinner at five ! " He then swung gaily into 
 the hall, got his hat, and made straight for his horse in the crowd. 
 The Right Honourable the Hurl of Scamperdale's Daniel then saluted 
 him with an aerial sweep of his cap, and Chowey, relaxing his 
 proboscis, followed suit. 
 
 Mr. Castangs having disappointed our friends, there was no occasion 
 for Mr. Romford to indulge in the usual make-believe draw round 
 Dalberry Lees ; so, getting on Pilot, he trotted quietly over Amber- 
 wicke Meadows, and, running the hounds through Walton Wood, 
 passed on to Westdale Park. 
 
 But though the portly owner, Mr. Banknewton, was an ardent 
 supporter of the hunt, and always made a show of insisting upon his 
 keeper having foxes ; yet, not having notice, and of course relying 
 upon Mrs. Watkins supplying the wants of the day, his fox was not 
 ready any more than the other. So Mr. Romford passed on from kaL 
 to house, and from hill to vale, until he got entirely out of his stop ; 
 without, however, having exactly a blank day, for Chowey whipped a 
 very fine fox off a hedge-row on Mr. Mitford's farm at Ripple Mill, 
 which immediately went to ground in a well accustomed breeding 
 earth behind the house. 
 
THE BAG FOX. 201 
 
 It is, however, but justice to Mr. Castangs to state that he had not 
 beer, indifferent to his good patron Mrs. Watkins's interests; ior, when 
 Independent Jimmy came with the melon frame to take Mrs. Somer- 
 ville back to Beldon Hall, the fox was seen sitting in his airy trel- 
 lis-work box beside Jimmy on the driving seat. It had been carried 
 past by the thoughtless guard of the 9 a.m. railway train. Better, 
 however, that he should carry the fox past than the pea-soup. Mrs. 
 Watkins, however, determining not to profit by the occurrence, begged 
 Mrs. Somerville to take the fox back with her to Beldon Hall ; 
 which our fair friend consenting to do, and all things being at length 
 ready, after a good deal of kissing and hugging, the ladies got parted ; 
 and Lucy and Dirty, being duly ensconced in their vehicle, drove 
 away, leaving the late lively Dalberry Lees to relapse into its accus- 
 tomed quiet. Dirty, we may add, had made rather a somewhat 
 profitable visit of it, having picked a pearl and ruby ring off Mr. 
 Watkins's dressing-table, a gold thimble out of Miss "Watkins's work- 
 box, and extracted seven-and-sixpence from a drawer in the house- 
 keeper's room, which none but herself would ever have suspected of 
 holding a halfpenny. 
 
 CHAPTEE XLII. 
 
 THE BAG FOX. 
 
 Whex Mr. Facey Romford returned to Beldon Hall after his visit 
 to Dalberry Lees, he found what ought to have converted the nearly 
 blank day there into a splendid triumph ; namely, the unfortunate 
 bag fox, now located in his own entrance hall. Facey got a whiff of 
 what Mr. Watkins would call his " aroma," almost as soon as he 
 opened the front door ; but never dreaming of such a thing as a fox 
 being in the house, he just chucked his hat and whip at random in the 
 dusk on to the accustomed table near the screen behind which he 
 kept his rake, and was making onwards, thinking of his pork chops and 
 smashed potatoes, when a scratching noise arrested his attention on the 
 other side of the spacious entrance. Facey stopped, and in the evening 
 gloom the apparition of a new trellis-work cage stood in bold relief 
 against the carved back of an old oak chair. 
 
 " Do believe it's a fox," muttered Bomford. "Can be nothing but 
 a fox," added he, making up to it, and looking in, as the unmistakeable 
 
202 MR. FACEY ROMFORD'S HOUNDS. 
 
 scent greeted his nose. " It is a fox ! " exclaimed he, wondering hew 
 it came there. He then called for a candle. Dirtiest of the Dirty 
 presently came tripping along, with a thick-wicked tallow, in a block- 
 tin candlestick, in her hand; and Romford, flourishing it over thf> 
 cage, caught sight of the parchment label, and read, — 
 
 " "William "Watkins, Esq., 
 
 " Dalberry Lees. 
 " By rail, to be left at the Firfield Station. Keep this side up.*' 
 
 " Oh, the deuce ! " muttered he. " Why, tbis is the gentleman 
 that ought to have come in the morning." Then a further inspection 
 of the address revealed his own name — 
 
 "Francis Romford, Esq., 
 
 " Beldon Hall. 
 ""With Mrs. "Watkins's kind regards," 
 
 in the most elegant hand, added at the bottom. 
 
 "Humph !" muttered he, " this is a pretty present for a master cf 
 hounds to receive'. S'pose they'll be sendin' me a colley dog or a pipin' 
 bullfinch next. May mean it for kindness ; s'pose they do," continued 
 he, thinking of the white shoulders; "but in reality it's anything 
 else. Never hunted a bag fox in my life," said he, scratching his 
 head. " Should be 'shamed to hunt a bag fox. "What would life be 
 without foxes ?" continued Eacey, now lowering the candle, and look- 
 ing into the cage to examine his present more minutely. Reynard, 
 half timid, half savage, made for a corner, disclosing, however, enough of 
 his proportions to let Eacey see he was a fine one, — rather light-coloured 
 along the back, with a full brush and a grizzleyish head. " "Wonder 
 what sort of a mouth he's got?" continued Eacey, making for the 
 table, whereon lay his hunting whip, and returning to stir the fox up 
 with it. " Snap !" He seized the stick with an energy that made 
 Facey thankful it wasn't his thumb, disclosing, as he snapped, a set of 
 slightly failing but still very serviceable-looking teeth. " Good fox, 
 very," said Facey, wondering where he came from. " Highlands, of 
 course," added he, shrugging up his high shoulders, well knowing he did 
 nothing of the sort. " Well," mused he, " this is the way to bring 
 fox hunting to an end. Steal each other's foxes, and then we shall 
 have nothin' to hunt. Bad work, very," muttered he, " when it 
 comes to this." And if it hadn't been for the fair daughter, Eacey 
 would have abiised Watkins right well. As it was, he let off his steam 
 by abusing the sham-fox system generally, declaring he would rather 
 
^ 
 
 \ 
 
 \ 
 
 1 
 
 * 
 'S 
 
OF ~HE 
 
 UNSVLRSI1 
 
 OF 
 
THE BAG FOX. 203 
 
 hunt with a pack of rabbit-bcaglcs on foot, than condescend to such 
 work. " A rat in a barn, with a terrier, is worth two of it," said he. 
 
 And he was half inclined to open tbe box and liberate the fox at the 
 door; and nothing but the fear of his being ignominiously nipped ur 
 by some passing cur prevented his doing so. Facey, therefore, 
 adjourned the consideration of the question what to do with him until 
 after the discussion of the sumptuous fare he had ordered in the 
 morning. So he now proceeded to his bed-room to divest himself of 
 his hunting attire, and assume the easier clothes of the evening. Then, 
 old Dirty having the repast ready at the appointed time, Dirtiest of 
 the Dirty resumed her waiting avocation ; while, between chops and 
 cheese, Lucy enlightened Mr. Romford as to the misfortunes of the 
 bag fox, and Mrs. Watkins's anxiety for the notification of the dis- 
 appointment. Lucy had told Mrs. Watkins that she did not think 
 her brother would have anything to do with a bagman; but Mrs. 
 Watkins was positive the other way, asserting that a fox was a fox ; 
 adding, that surely it was much better to have one in a box ready for 
 use, than to be at the trouble of searching and prowling about in a 
 wood, without, perhaps, finding one after all. 
 
 " Oh, do take him," pressed Mrs. Watkins; " Mr. Watkins will be 
 so disappointed if you don't; and I'm sure we have no use for him 
 here," added she. So Mrs. Somerville reluctantly consented, and 
 Independent Jimmy had the pleasure of the fox's company as he drove 
 back to Beldon Hall. 
 
 There the reader has already seen him ; and the question now is, 
 itfhat to do with him ; for though the whiff of a fox is very pleasant 
 and exhilarating in the open air — especially in the hunting season — 
 yet we do not know that it is quite so agreeable in the house. 
 So, too, thought friend Facey ; and the point now was, how to get 
 rid of him without offending Mrs. Watkins. At last he thought 
 he had it. 
 
 " I say, old gal, let you and oi get up early in the niornin' and give 
 that bagman a dustin' with a few couple of hounds," said Facey to 
 Lucy between the puffs of his after-dinner pipe. 
 
 " Well," said Lucy, " I'm quite agreeable." 
 
 " It's a non-hunting day," continued Mr. Romford, " and it will 
 keep the horse's backs clown and the men quiet by letting them see 
 we can do without them. You ride Leotard," said he, " and I'll have 
 tb at invincible Baker, and see if a gag will prevent his pulling my 
 arms out of their sockets, as he generally does." 
 
 Lucy was quite agreeable to that also, Mr. Eomford then sunk into 
 the roomy recesses of his well-stuffed easy chair, and luxuriated -ih 
 
20* MB. FACET ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 his pipe as lie passed his fine gratis pack of hounds in review before 
 him. He was a man of decision, and quickly made up his mind what 
 to take and what to leave at home. Ten couple was just what he 
 would take, and ten couple he had to the fore in no time. So, having 
 finished his pipe, he arose from his chair, and, chucking a log of wood 
 on to the fire to last till he came back, he got a candle and went and 
 had another stare at the fox. Here he was presently joined by old 
 Dirty, Mrs. Mustard herself, who, in reply to his inquiries where he 
 could get a mouse or a few beetles, replied that she had a couple of 
 mice in the trap just then, and, as to beetles, why their back kitchen 
 fairly swarmed with them ; so sending her away for the mice and a 
 handful of beetles, as also for a saucer of clean water, Mr. Eomford 
 presently made his poor prisoner as comfortable as a fox could be 
 made under the circumstances, and left him to enjoy himself as best 
 he could. 
 
 He then proceeded to the stables, where he found Swig and Chowey 
 in the saddle-room deeply engaged in a game of dominoes, Chowey 
 having rather the best of it up to the time of Mr. Romford's coming. 
 Here, too, was Short, the stud -groom as he was now called, having 
 some coatless, characterless helpers under him. Mr. Eomford, having 
 first ordered Leotard for Mrs. Somerville, and the Baker for his 
 own riding out of the brilliant galaxy of stubbornness and vice with 
 which his stable was supplied, and Chowey, having put the finish- 
 ing stroke to the game, Mr. Swig was at liberty to talk to oiu- 
 master, who forthwith ran him through a list of ten couple of hounds 
 that he wanted in the morning so rapidly that if Swig had not had 
 his two intelligent friends in the saddle-room to assist him, he would 
 infallibly have made some mistake. 
 
 "Eight to a minute!" then cried Mr. Eomford, giving a general 
 order for all — "eight to a minute!" repeated he, rolling out of the 
 room, leaving his audience very much surprised at his proceedings. 
 But Lucy and he were always dropping in upon them at unqualified 
 hours. 
 
 "What's up now!" ejaculated Short, who had calculated upon 
 having to act figure footman on the morrow. 
 
 " Must be going to have a hunt by themselves," suggested Swig. 
 
 " The same as they had with the Heavysides," observed Chowey, 
 pursing up his peculiar mouth as he recollected Swig's and his own 
 misfortune in the gig — or, rather, out of the gig. 
 
 " Shouldn't wonder," assented the strong persevering man. 
 " Gallant little 'oman to ride," observed Swig; adding " I do liko 
 to see her go." 
 

 THE BAG FOX. 205 
 
 ' He's a rurn'un," muttered Chowey. " Of all the rum'uns I cvei 
 lived with, he's the rummiest." 
 
 So they proceeded to discuss the merits and peculiarities of our 
 worthy master, without disparagement, however, to his sporting 
 prowess, which indeed nobody could deny. 
 
 Meanwhile Mr. Romford, little earing what they either thought or 
 said, hurried off by the light of the moon to the great Mr. Proudlock's, 
 to whom, having presented a bottle of Lord Lovetin'sbest Jamaica rum 
 that he had wrapped up in an old "Bell's Life" newspaper in his 
 baggy coat pocket, he propounded his intentions for the morrow. Mr. 
 Proudlock, thus properly propitiated, would be most happy to do any- 
 thing in his power to serve Mr. Romford, and, after discussing various 
 localities, the Holly Meadows, Eddys Row, Limecoats Green, Shortleet 
 Moor, High Thorn "Wood, and other places, it was at length decided 
 that Mr. Proudlock should start away betimes and enlarge the fox in 
 High Thorn "Wood, on the east or Hard and Sharp side of the country, 
 where they would be less likely to disturb any of the tenacious game 
 preservers' covers on any of the country that Mr. Romford would bo 
 likely soon to draw himself. 
 
 And Mr. Romford, having thus made all preparations for the coming 
 day, left Mr. Proudlock to discuss his rum, while he returned to his 
 comfortable quarters at the Hall, thinking how much snugger it was 
 to roll about in Tweeds and be waited upon by a Dirty than to have 
 to undergo the penance and persecution of a party — the persecution of 
 wine, the persecution of fish, the persecution of food in general, the per- 
 secution of footmen, the persecution of finery. Oh, those horrid hoops ! 
 What wouldn't he give to destroy them — smash them irrevocably I 
 
CHAPTER XLTII. 
 
 THE BAG FOX ENLARGED- 
 
 Mit. Romfohd awcke quite cool and comfortable the next morning 
 /ill traces of wineing squeamishness were gone, and lie was the real 
 original Dog and Partridge Romford, ready for hunting, ready for 
 shooting, ready for riding, ready for anything. ''Humph ! what's to- 
 day?" exclaimed he, starting up in bed, as he awoke — "what's to- 
 day ? " fearing lest he might have overslept himself and be late 
 to cover. " Ah," continued he, recollecting himself, " it's not a 
 hunting-day — it's a bye with the bagman. "Well, needs must when a 
 certain old gentleman drives," continued he. So saying he bounded out 
 of bed with a thump that would have shook a modern built house to 
 the centre. He then proceeded to take his accustomed stare out of 
 the window. It was a fine morning, still and quiet, with a slight 
 white rind on the ground that the now rising sun would quickly 
 dispel. " Pity but it was a reg'lar huntin'-day," muttered he, sur- 
 veying the scene; " think oi could give a good wild beggar a dustin'." 
 He then proceeded to. dress himself. As he descended the grand 
 staircase, and cut off the corner of the hall on his way to the break- 
 fast-room, he got a whiff of his overnight friend, though Dirtiest of 
 the Dirty, whom he met dribbling along with the kettle, assured him 
 that Mr. Proudlock had taken him away a full hour before. The fact 
 was, the old Jamaica rum had been too potent for friend Proudlock, 
 who, having gone to bed tipsy, had only just come for the fox, and, 
 fearing he was late, told Dirtiest of the Dirty to say what she did ; 
 which of course she had no hesitation in doing, lying coming quite 
 as naturally as stealing to that elegant young lady. 
 
 Mrs. Somerville was down-stairs already, but not in her sporting 
 costume, it being one of her rules, when alone, always to put on her 
 smart things after breakfast, considering that they ran more risk of 
 damage at that meal than during all the rest of the day put together. 
 And though she was not now finding her own clothes, or at least could 
 have what she liked from London for sending for, and Betsy Shannon 
 would only have been too glad of a cast-off, still, an early-acquired 
 habit of neatness prevented her wasting the advantages afforded even 
 
THE BAG FOX ENLARGED. 207 
 
 by being on tlic free-list. So she was prudent even in her extrava- 
 gance. Lucy "was only a light breakfast eater, Facey a heavy one 
 — a little dry toast, a cup of tea, and an egg sufficing for her, while 
 our master indulged in oatmeal -porridge, pork-chops, rabbit-pies, cold 
 game — the general produce of his gun, in fact. 
 
 So Lucy, having soon satisfied her appetite, withdrew with mamma, 
 leaving our master of hounds to satisfy his appetite while she was 
 adorning herself. At length he, too, was done, and pocketing a hunch 
 of brown bread, he rang the bell, and told Dirtiest of the Dirty, who 
 answered it, to send old Dirty to see about dinner. 
 
 "Now then, old gal," said he, as Mrs. Mustard appeared, smoothing 
 her dirty apron as usual, " we shall be at home in good time I s'pect — 
 say two, at latest ; so do us those woodcocks, and make us a good apple- 
 pie, or an apple-puddin', if you like it better." 
 
 " How many woodcocks would you please to have, sir ? " asked Mrs. 
 Mustard. 
 
 " Oh, do them all," replied Mr. Eomford, " do them all— only three 
 — no use makin' two bites of a cherry. Here ! " continued he, " mind, 
 make a good big pie — as big as a foot-bath — not one of your little 
 tartlet-like things that only aggravate the appetite, and do it no good. 
 Besides, I like cold apple-pie," added he, now turning round to light 
 his old briar-root pipe, which he had been arranging as he spoke at 
 the fire. Ere he had resumed his erect position and emitted the 
 inaugural puff, Mrs. Somerville re-entered attired for the chase. She 
 was beautifully dressed, for, though she knew there was no meet, yet it 
 was impossible to say who she might see ; added to which it was so much 
 pleasanter and more comfortable being smart and fit to meet anybody, 
 instead of having to shirk and avoid people in consequence of being 
 shabby. So she had on a smart new hat, with an exquisitely cut eight 
 guinea habit braided in front, and beautifully made chamois-leather 
 trousers with black-cloth feet. Altogether as neat as neat could be. 
 
 Nor did she mar the general effect, as some ladies do, by wearing 
 soiled or shabby gloves. On the contrary, she had on a pair of smait 
 new primrose-coloured kids that fitted with the utmost exactitude. She 
 had got a beautiful gold mounted whip down from London, with u 
 light-blue silk tasselled cord through its ruby-eyed fox-head handle. 
 Mr. Romford, however, did not reciprocate his fJseudo-sisier's smart- 
 ness, but turned out in a very rough poacher-like garb, viz., a slouch- 
 ing brown wideawake, a dirty ditto suit of heather-coloured Tweed, 
 with the trod out trousers thrust into the original old rusty-looking 
 lack-lustre Napoleons. But Mr. Eomford could ride in anything, and, 
 moreover, thought if the fox wouldn't run, he would come home 
 
208 mr. facey eomfoed's hounds. 
 
 with the hounds and go out with his gun after the wild ducks or 
 snipes on Mabbleford mere. He liked to be doing. So now let us 
 assist him in his laudable design of activity. 
 
 Punctual to a minute — for those who want to have punctual servants 
 must he punctual themselves — Mr. Romford and Mrs. Somerville 
 appeared at the front-door of Beldon Hall, and there were the hounds 
 and horses occupying the gravelled ring before the house. The array 
 was not very imposing, but a deal of execution lurked under that quiet 
 exterior. Mr. Romford did not subscribe to the doctrine that a 
 " hound was a hound," on the contrary, he knew there was as much 
 difference among dogs as there was among men, and he made it a rule 
 to have value received for his oatmeal. And though he had not taken 
 his best, yet he had drawn his ten couple with such ability that, 
 thanks to the excellence of their blood, they were as formidable as 
 many peoples' twenty couple. 
 
 "Now then ! " cried Facey, as he opened the hall-door, " bring up 
 your missis's horse first," calling to Short, now in charge of the prank- 
 playing Leotard. 
 
 " Better not call me missus," whispered Lucy, adding, " it might 
 make them talk." 
 
 " Mrs. Somerville' s horse ! " then exclaimed Facey, in a louder tone, 
 as if to obliterate the first order, and in an instant Leotard was along- 
 side the door-step. Lucy then placing her right hand on the crutch pre- 
 sented her pretty little foot to our friend, who lifted her up with airy 
 buoyancy into her saddle. A shake of the smart habit, and she had 
 herself adjusted in a moment. Romford then vaulted gaily into his 
 own on the back of the all-powerful Baker. Having got him short by 
 the gag, he gave him a kick in the ribs with his spurless heel, that as 
 good as said, " now then, old boy, let's see whether you or oi will be 
 master." " Cop, come away ! — Cop, come away ! " — he added, to the 
 hounds, without noticing the Baker's semi-kick in return. Away they 
 swept from the door and trotted along with the pride of the morning. 
 
 Proudlock, the keeper, had trotted off on Tom Hooper, the black- 
 smith's pony, some half -hour before, to enlarge the fox in the retired 
 recesses of High Thorn "Wood, but it so happening that there were 
 two parallel ravines, viz., High Thorn "Wood and North Spring Wood, 
 so exactly alike that Mr. Romford mistook them, and ran his hounds 
 up the first one he came to, where fox there was none, instead of 
 following the Kingsfield-road, half-a-mile further on, and turning up 
 the clear pebbly brook on the left. The consequence was, that, 
 though he gave his hounds plenty of time, he never got a touch of a 
 fox; a fact that puzzled our friend considerably, seeing, as Beckford 
 
THE BAG FOX ENLARGED. 209 
 
 says, thai a bag-fox must needs smell extravagantly — especially a bag- 
 fox that had been up to Leadenhall Market, and down again, all round 
 about the country. 
 
 Nevertheless, it was so, and Facey got to the rising ground at the 
 top of the ravine without a challenge — nay, without even a whisper, 
 save from Prosperous making a dash at a rabbit. He then recon- 
 noitered the country. 
 
 " "Wrong shop ! " at last said he, as, casting his eye to the south, ho 
 saw the duplicate wood bounding the horizon — "wrong shop!" 
 repeated he, turning his horse short round, giving a slight twang of 
 his horn, and telling Lucy to put the hounds on after him. So friend 
 Facey trotted briskly along the wood- side he had just come up, fol- 
 lowed by such of the hounds as saw him turn, while Lucy essayed to 
 bring the rest on after him. He then retraced his steps as quickly as 
 he could, and regaining the Kingsfield road went pounding along in 
 search of his servant. There, on a white road -side gate, holding his 
 pony, sat the all-important Proudlock, wondering what had happened 
 to Mr. Romford. 
 
 " "Wish you mayn't ha' given him o'er much law," now observed he, 
 as Romford came trotting up. 
 
 " "What, he's fresh, is he ?" asked our master. 
 
 " Fresh as a four-year-old — went off like a shot," replied Proudlock. 
 
 "So much the better," rejoined Romford. "Don't care if he 
 beats us ; " adding to himself, " no credit in killin' a bag-fox — rather 
 a disgrace, oi should say." 
 
 Mrs. Somerville then came cantering up, with the remaining hounds 
 frolicking about her horse, and Mr. Romford having now got his short 
 pack reunited, Proudlock opened the gate into the wood, and in they 
 all went together. 
 
 "Half way up the ride I struck him," said Proudlock, "and he 
 went briskly away as far as ever I could see." 
 
 " All right," said Romford, trotting on briskly. 
 
 And sure enough, just where a large wind-blown beech formed a 
 comfortable resting-place for our friend after his exertions in carrying 
 the fox, a sudden thrill of excitement shot through the pack as though 
 they had been suddenly operated upon by a galvanic battery, and 
 away they all went with an outburst of melody, that alarmed every 
 denizen of the wood. 
 
 "That's him!" exclaimed Proudlock, coming up at a very gallop, 
 ing, dreary, done, sort of pace — refreshing the old pony with a knotty 
 dog whip as he rode. 
 
 "JXo doubt," replied Romford, getting the now pulling Baker weii 
 
210 MR. FACEY EOMFOED'S HOUKDS. 
 
 by the head. Lucy did the same by Leotard, and away they scuttled 
 up the green ride together, leaving Mend Proudloclc immeasurably in 
 the lurch. It is a sorry performance to see a retired giant toiling 
 after a pack of hounds on a broken-winded pony. 
 
 The fox, however, had not made his exit on arriving at the rough 
 oak rails at the top of the ride that commanded the open ; for 
 though there was nothing to impede his progress, still he was 
 confused and uncomfortable, and had not got the cramp out of his. 
 legs from confinement in the box, so that the Romford digression 
 into the wrong w r ood was very convenient, and the fox availed 
 himself of it to take a quiet trial of speed by himself along a grassy 
 slope to the left. The further he went, the fresher he got, till he 
 felt himself regaining his pristine strength ; and after two or three 
 rolls and stretches on the grassy mead, was beginning to cast about 
 for a permanent resting-place, when the light note of Romford's 
 horn, calling his hounds out of the first cover, came wafted on the 
 breeze to where he was, now in the full enjoyment of his delectable- 
 liberty. 
 
 One twang was enough. It shot through his every nerve, and 
 flourishing his brush with a triumphant whisk, he trotted away at a 
 good, steady, holding pace, keeping as much out of sight by following 
 the low grounds as he could. For he argued, very rationally, that 
 even if the horn boded him no harm, still he was just as well in one 
 strange place as another; while if it was any of those troublesome 
 hunters in search of one of his class, the greater distance he placed 
 between them and himself the better. So he went steadily on, not 
 running to exhaust himself, but going as if he felt quite grateful for 
 his freedom, and determined to do his utmost to retain it. Meanwhile 
 friend Romford, with his short but efficient pack, had opened on his 
 line, and the first outburst of melody coming down wind, confirmed 
 the fox's worst suspicions as at first excited by the twang of the horn. 
 
 He had now little doubt it was the hounds, if not after him, after 
 one of his own species, for whom he did not care to stand proxy ; so 
 he employed a very vigilant eye in scanning the country, with ears 
 well back to catch any extraneous sound that might come. He wasn't 
 going to be caught, if he could help it. And Romford being a fair- 
 dealing man, and not at all inclined to take advantage of an over- 
 matched animal, let his mettlesome hounds flash half over the fallow 
 outside the wood without calling them back, though truthful Van- 
 quisher refused to go an inch beyond the oak rails. Then when their 
 misleading notes gradually died out, Vanquisher's deep -toned tongue 
 was heard proclaiming the right line to the left, and back they all 
 
THE BAG FOX ENLARGED. 211 
 
 swung, dashing and hurrying as if to snatch the laurels of accuracy 
 from his brow. And when they got to where the fox had rolled, there 
 wae such a proclamation of satiety as sounded like the outburst of 
 forty mouths instead of twenty. Still it was not a great scenting day ; 
 but Mr. Romford did not care for that, and went as leisurely along as 
 a master of harriers, instead of bustling and aggravating his great 
 round shoulders into convulsions, as was his wont when he had a bad 
 scent and a good fox before him. Indeed, he kept looking about in 
 all the unlikely places for a wild fox to be, fearing lest the unfortunate 
 fugitive should fall into the jaws of the pack without a chance for his 
 life. But our worthy master was too careless, or too conscientious, 
 for while he was thus dallying, letting the hounds hunt every yard of 
 the scent, the fox was pursuing the even tenor of his way, over Linton 
 Lordship, and so across Makenrace Common to Arkenfield. 
 
 It was a captious, fleeting, catching scent, the hounds sometimes 
 running almost mute, and sometimes tearing along with such a chorus 
 of melody as looked as if they would change from scent to view, and 
 run into him in a minute. 
 
 " Look out, Lucy! " Facey kept exclaiming, " look out ! he's some- 
 where here ; " but still the fox showed not, and first one hound and 
 then another led the onward chorus, just as Romford expected to be 
 handling him. And now the cry of the hounds attracted the roving 
 population of the country. Mr. Makepiece, the Union Doctor, Header, 
 the horse-dealer, Herdman, the cattle-jobber, and Bartlett, the capless 
 butcher's boy, on an extremely fractious tail-foremost chestnut pony. 
 
 " Is it a fox or a har ? " asked Header, not knowing what to make 
 of the medley. 
 
 "How far hev ye brought him?" demanded the butcher's boy; but 
 Mr. Romford didn't deign to give an answer to either. 
 
 " Keep that fiery steed of yours off the hounds," was all the notice 
 he took of the latter. 
 
 Then the hounds, having got upon a sound old pasture, set to 
 running with such determined energy and vehemence, that, for the 
 first time since they found, or rather went away, Facey kicked the 
 Baker into a canter. Away Lucy and he went at a pace that, with 
 the aid of a hog-backed stile out of the pasture, a wall out of the next 
 field, and a scientifically-cut hedge beyond, soon shook off their 
 recently joined comrades. 
 
 The hounds had now been running some five-and-twenty minutes or 
 more, and Facey began to think better of the bagman than before; 
 he almost thought he might beat them ; didn't care if he did. " Poov 
 is the triumph over the timid bagman," said he 
 
 p 2 
 
212 mr. facey romfoed's hounds. 
 
 The country, which had been cramped and awkward at first, nove 
 gradually improved — more grass, larger fields, fewer trees. If the fox 
 did not take the best line that he might, he took far from a bad one ; 
 and, moreover, avoided all those points of publicity that too palpably 
 betray the stranger. Lucy half thought he might be a wild one they 
 had got on by mistake, but Facey saw by the want of confidence among 
 his hounds, and the vacillating course of the animal, that it was not 
 the real thing. Indeed, at times, if he hadn't known it was a fox, he 
 would have thought he was hunting a hare. So he cheered and 
 encouraged the hounds in an easy careless sort of way, still letting/ 
 them do their own work. "No use keopin' a dog, and barkin' one'i 
 Belf," thought he, as he slouched his great self in his saddle on tha 
 now placid Joe Baker. " If they can't tell which way he's gone, sure 
 I can't," continued he, watching their working. " Deuced good lot 
 of hounds," added he, admiring their performances. Then they went 
 away again with a screech. 
 
 At the cross roads by Welton Pound up came Timothy Scorer, the 
 perennially drunken horsebreaker, in a high state of excitement, on a 
 6weaty curly-coated bay filly, with its head all over entanglement, like 
 the bowsprit of a ship. Tim had met the fox full in the face by the 
 reservoir of Thistleworth Mill, and had not yet got over his astonish- 
 ment at the sight. 
 
 " Biggest fox that ever was seen ! Had nearly knocked his mar off 
 her legs," he said, his spluttering vehemence contrasting with Mr. 
 Bomford's easy indifference. 
 
 " Nearly knocked the mar off her legs ! " exclaimed Timothy, trying 
 to wheel her round out of the way of the hounds. 
 
 " You don't say so," replied Komford. " Why, it must have been a 
 wolf or a ram ! " 
 
 "Wolf or fox the hounds kept steadily on, if not with so good a 
 scent as before, still with a holding one that occasionally rose into 
 running. 
 
 And getting now into a more populous country, the magnetic 
 influence of a pack of hounds again operated on the casual horsemen ; 
 and by the time the pack skirted the little agricultural village of 
 Pendleton, the field had swelled to the number of six — viz., Mr. 
 Smith, the miller of the aforementioned Thistleworth Mill ; Lawson, 
 the road surveyer ; Dweller, the auctioneer; Facey, and Lucy; with 
 a fustian -clad servant on a white pony, who seemed inclined to give 
 the letter- bag a round with the hounds, instead of carrying it on to its 
 destination. 
 
 Here, too, there were symptoms of landlord farming — greener 
 
THE BAG FOX ENLARGED. 213 
 
 fields, trimmer fences, better gates. And, a wretched tailless cur 
 having chased the fox and in his vehemence nearly knocked his own 
 stupid brains out against a rubbing post, the line now took over that 
 improved country, with a still further diminished scent, in consequence 
 of the encounter from the cur. 
 
 If well-kept fences are more pleasant to the eye, they have the dis- 
 advantage of being more difficult to get over ; and those that our friends 
 now approached were so carefully tended, so skilfully mended with 
 old wire-rope, as scarcely to present any preferable place. It was 
 pretty much of a muchness where they took them. However, neither 
 Facey nor Lucy were people to turn away; and, after two or three 
 well-executed leaps, they were rewarded by getting into more open 
 and park-like ground. Indeed, they were in a park — none other than 
 Tarring Neville Park, the seat of our distinguished friend, Mr. Hazey, 
 though a well- wooded hill at present shut out the mansion from their 
 view. On, on they went ! Facey more bent on watching the working 
 of his hounds, than mindful of the country through which they were 
 passing. And, as the line of scent inclined down the now grassy 
 slope, of course Facey followed down the grassy slope ; and as it then 
 diverged along the side of a sparkling stream, why, along the side of 
 the sparkling stream he went also, wondering, as he rode, whether 
 there were any trout in it. "Shouldn't be s'prised if there were," 
 he said. 
 
 And as the hounds were casting about, here, there, and everywhere 
 — Romford acting "sleeping partner" as before — a puffing, turban- 
 capped youth suddenly rushed up, and breathlessly demanded to know 
 " what they were doing there ? " 
 
 " Hunting a fox, to be sure," replied Facey, holding his hounds on 
 towards an enclosed belt of wood by the side of the stream. 
 
 Then the youth looked at Romford, and Romford looked at the 
 youth ; and it occurred to them simultaneously that they had seen each 
 other before. 
 
 "Why, it's Mr. Romford, isn't it?" asked the youth, now appeal- 
 ing to Lucy, who was putting on the hounds to her brother; "and 
 Mrs. Somerville," added he, taking off his cap respectfully to the 
 handsome lady as he spoke. 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Hazey ! how do you do?" rejoined our fair friend, lean- 
 ing forward and tendering him her hand, Lucy's quicker perception 
 enabling her to detect in the heterogeneous garments the smart young 
 gentleman who accompanied his father to call upon them on the 
 Sunday. 
 
 It was, indeed, Bill — Hazey's boy Bill — now sent out to discharge 
 
214 mr. facey eomford's houkds. 
 
 (for the thirteenth time) old Mr. Muggeridge, as Hazey thought, from 
 towling about Tarring Neville with the rum-and-milk harriers. 
 Finding his mistake, Bill was anxious to efface the abruptness of his 
 inquiry, and now ran on alongside of Lucy to where Romford was 
 still holding his feathering hounds on the waning scent. The more 
 likely the fox seemed to beat Facey, the more anxious Facey felt to 
 beat the fox. "Didn't do to be beat by a bagman ! " he muttered. 
 
 "Mr. Romford! Mr. Romford!" now exclaimed Lucy, coming up 
 with Bill and a couple-and-a-half of straggling hounds ; " here's Mr. 
 Hazey ! here's Mr. Hazey ! " 
 
 "Hazey, is there?" retorted Romford; adding to Affable, "for-rard 
 on, good bitch ! for-rard on ! How are you, sir ? " continued he, 
 looking hastily over his shoulder, adding, " Oh, it's you, is it ? " 
 seeing it was the son ; " how are ye ? How's the old 'un ? " meaning 
 his brother master of hounds. " Yoicks, Challenger : good dog — speak 
 to him again! How's the old 'un?" repeated he, turning again to 
 his hounds. 
 
 " Cicely, thank you ; how are you ? " replied the boy Bill. 
 
 "You've not seen the fox, have you?" asked Mr. Romford, with- 
 out noticing the inquiry after his own health. 
 
 " No," replied Bill. 
 
 "Deuced odd," rejoined Mr. Romford; "deuced odd. Ran him 
 quite briskly up to within half-a-mile of this place, since when the 
 scent's been gettin' weaker and weaker. Humph ! " added he, as he 
 sat watching the energies of the hounds gradually subsiding. " Seems 
 to be gone altogether ! " muttered he. ""What place is this?" now 
 demanded Mr. Romford of his young friend. 
 
 "This!" replied Bill. " This is Tarring Neville — our place, you 
 know." 
 
 " Tarring Neville, is it ? " muttered Facey. " "Well, mind," added 
 he, after a pause, " I brought this fox out of my own country," 
 fearing lest old Hazey might make reprisal upon him ; adding, " and 
 if I can kill him above ground, you know, I may." 
 
 The scent, however, now failed altogether — even yellow-pied 
 Vanquisher gave it up. 
 
 " I'll just make one cast," observed Facey, half to Lucy half to 
 himself; and then, turning to Bill, he added, "and we'll come up to 
 the stables, and get some gruel for the horses." 
 
 "Do," replied Bill; adding, "and some breakfast for yourselves." 
 
 "Breakfast!" muttered Facey; "more like dinner, I should 
 think ! " forgetting how early he had come out. 
 
 He then cast his hounds, for the first time during the run, making 
 
THE BAG FOX ENLARGED. 215 
 
 a very comprehensive semicircular advance, which brought him right 
 in front of Tarring Neville. 
 
 " Not a bad-like shop," observed Facey to Lucy, as he kept one 
 little roving pig-eye on his hounds, the other on the house. 
 
 "No, it's not," replied Lucy; adding, "I vote we go in and see 
 what it's like inside; " adding, " they were all over ours, you know." 
 
 "Too much bother," rejoined Facey; "the women will be all 
 astir." 
 
 " Oh, never mind that," said Lucy. " Let's see what they are 
 like." 
 
 Facey still kept holding his hounds on, more for the sake of making 
 a survey of the place, than in any expectation of their hitting off the 
 scent. At last he came to a swing cattle-gate, across a widish brook 
 at the far end of the lawn; and, the country beyond not appearing 
 inviting, he resolved to give in, hoping that Hazey might hunt the fox 
 back into his country some other day. 
 
 "No use potterin' on after the beggar any longer," said he, turning 
 the reluctant Baker round, with a "Cop — come away! cop — come 
 away!" to his hounds. "First bagman I ever hunted," said Facey, 
 "and it shall be the last. Do one's hounds more harm than enough." 
 
 So saying, he kicked the Baker into a trot, and swung gaily over 
 the green, as if to make the hounds believe he had done all he 
 intended. He had got the Baker's back down, at all events ; and 
 would have him quiet for the next day he was wanted. 
 
 " I should like a cup of tea very much now," said Lucy, reverting 
 to Bill's proposal. 
 
 " Dash you and your tea ! You women are always wanting tea — 
 should go about with a kettle tacked to your saddles," replied 
 BrOmford. 
 
 "Well, I'm sure it's a very harmless beverage." 
 
 " Harmless enough," retorted Facey ; " but it does you no good." 
 
 " Well, there's not much feeding in it, perhaps ; but, still, it's very 
 refreshing." 
 
 "Well, then, come and refresh yourselves," said Facey, turning his 
 horse's head towards the house, with a view of encountering the 
 crinolines. 
 
 So they jogged over the greensward to the stables, Facey thinking, 
 as he looked at his old lacklustre boots, that Lucy would have to do 
 the decorative part of the entertainment, as he was only in very " so 
 so " guise. He would rather have his hot woodcocks at home, than, 
 damage his appetite by anything he might get at Hazey's. However, 
 he would sec how the land lay. 
 
CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 TARRING NEVILLE. 
 
 Mr. Hjlzet's boy Bill, in the exercise of a wise discretion, had 
 run back to the house to give the alarm of " Company coming! com- 
 pany coming!" while Mr. Romford made his final cast for his fox 
 about the place. Bill informed his beloved parents in breathless haste 
 as they still sat at their morning meal, that it wasn't old Muggeridge 
 who was towling about the grounds with the rum-and-milk harriers, but 
 no less a personage than the great Mr. Romford, who, with his sister, 
 Mrs. Somerville, he believed was coming in to breakfast. He did not 
 say that he had asked them, lest that should have been wrong, but 
 left it to be inferred that they had invited themselves. 
 
 "Breakfast!" ejaculated Hazey, throwing down his "Times," and 
 glancing at his garments. 
 
 " Breakfast !" exclaimed Mrs. Hazey, thinking of her cream, eggs, 
 and honey. 
 
 "Breakfast!" repeated Miss, recollecting that she looked rather 
 yellow as she dressed. 
 
 And away they all started on their respective reviserships. But the 
 boy Bill, having been seen, stood his ground in the way of dress, and 
 confined his endeavours to rousing the establishment. 
 
 " Look sharp ! look sharp ! " was the cry; " there's company coming ! 
 there's company coming !" 
 
 And the news flew with such electricity that when our master and 
 Mrs. Somerville rode into the stable-yard, sly Silkey the groom and a 
 couple of helpers were on the look-out for their horses, while a lad 
 held back the door of a loose-box for the reception of the hounds. 
 Having dismounted and got the latter housed, Facey locked the door, 
 and putting the key in his pocket, proceeded to assist his sister to 
 descend from her horse. A light bound from the saddle landed her on 
 (he ground, when, having shaken out her habit, she arranged it 
 becomingly, with a due regard to the interests of her pretty booted 
 feet and neatly fitting trousers. In truth Lucy looked very lovely. 
 Her smart habit showed her natural figure to advantage, and the fine 
 
TARRING NEVILLE. 217 
 
 fresh morning air had imparted a genial glow to her bright complexion, 
 Tier hair, too, was all right. 
 
 "Now," said Facey to Silkey, "you give those horses half a pail 
 of gruel and a feed of corn apiece;" adding, "and don't take the 
 saddles off, but throw a rug over each of them: " so saying he stamped 
 the thick of the mud sparks off his rusty Napoleons, and then pro- 
 ceeded to follow Lucy, who was already tripping along the gravel walk 
 to the house. 
 
 " Rot the women," muttered he, eyeing her; " they are never happy 
 unless they are pokin' their noses into each other's houses. Can't pos- 
 sibly be hungry so soon." 
 
 "Now, who are you goin' to ax for?" demanded he, overtaking her 
 just as she gained the little iron wicket at the end of a well-kept gravel 
 walk that evidently led to the front of the house. 
 
 "Oh, there's no occasion to ask for anyone," replied Lucy; "just 
 ring the bell; they asked us in, you know." 
 
 "Humph," rejoined Romford; " not so clear that they meant us to 
 come, though." 
 
 " "Well, if they didn't, it will teach them to be more truthful another 
 time," replied Lucy, laughing; "besides," added she, "this will do 
 instead of returning their call, you know." 
 
 " Hut, oi never meant to return it," growled Romford. 
 
 Tarring Neville now resembled a theatre at the critical moment of 
 ringing up the curtain. "Whatever bustle and confusion may have 
 prevailed behind the scenes, all must be hushed and still at that 
 momentous summons. So at Tarring Neville, when the ominous front 
 door bell sounded there was an end of hurry and preparation. Basket 
 the butler suddenly dropped from a trot to a walk ; Henry the foot- 
 man ceased fumbling at his coat-cuffs ; the breakfest tableau was 
 recomposed, Mrs. Hazey, in command of the teapot as before, while 
 Hazey subsided, "Times" in hand, into his arm-chair, as though he 
 had been sitting quietly at his meal, instead of having been to his 
 dressing-room to exchange a shabby old silk frayed surtout for a 
 smartish coatee and fancy vest. 
 
 "Mr. Romford and Mrs. Somerville," now proclaimed stage-manager 
 Tomkins, opening the breakfast-room door, when up started Hazey, 
 laying down the " Times," as though quite surprised and overjoyed 
 at the announcement. He icas rather pleased, for he was half inclined 
 to think the Romfords wouldn't visit him, and then adieu to his chance 
 of a deal. 
 
 "My dear Mrs. Somerville, how do you do?" exclaimed he, 
 advancing and grasping her hand fervently; adding " let me introduce 
 
218 MR. FACEY ROMFORD'S HOUNDS. 
 
 Mrs. Hazey. Mrs. Hazey, Mrs. Somerville ; Mrs. Somerville, Mrs. 
 Hazey." Then, while the ladies were bobbing and curtseying and 
 showing each other their teeth, he turned to Romford, who was making 
 a comparison greatly in favour of Lucy, and, shaking hands with him, 
 said, " This is indeed quite an unexpected pleasure. Up betimes this 
 morning, I guess — early bird that gets the worm, eh?" 
 
 "Doesn't always get the fox though," replied Facey with a chuckle. 
 " What ! you've been hunting, have you ?" exclaimed Hazey, with 
 well-feigned surprise, ignoring the boy Bill's visit, old Muggeridge, and 
 all the out-door proceedings. " Well," continued he, seeing the action 
 of the ladies' backs fast subsiding, "let me introduce Mrs. Hazey. 
 Mr. Romford, my dear," added he, "brother master of hounds; so 
 glad to see you, Romford, you can't think," continued he, knocking 
 off the mister, and turning again to his guest, adding "now pray be 
 seated and have some breakfast, and tell us all about it. Where will 
 you sit, Mrs. Somerville ? Where will you sit, Mr. Romford ? Stay, 
 Mrs. Somerville, I'll pull the blind down, and keep the sun off your 
 ■eyes," so saying he lowered the shade, and Mrs. Somerville, conscious 
 of a healthy complexion, sat boldly down with her face to the light. 
 
 The footmen and Tomkins then came in, the former bearing a tray 
 with a reinforcement of cups and other crockery ware, in the midst 
 of which rose the tall form of a coffeepot, with its usual accompani- 
 ments of hot milk and sugar, together with hot toast, hot rolls, hot 
 everything. Mr. Romford took tea, and Mrs. Somerville took coffee, 
 and our master nearly knocked the bottom out of a muffin plate by 
 leistering two layers of roll with his fork at a blow. Hazey con- 
 gratulated himself that it wasn't his No. 1 set when he heard it. 
 "Rough fellow, that Romford," thought he, eyeing his muscular arm; 
 " strikes as if he was pronging a salmon." 
 
 And now the usual sound of eating being established, after a careful 
 listen at the door, Miss Anna Maria made her appearance, as if for 
 the first time that morning, taking the chance of her breakfast things 
 either being removed, or of Mrs. Somerville not noticing them. The 
 fact was, Miss, considering the importance of the occasion, had deter- 
 mined, as she glanced at herself in the cheval glass, to make a com- 
 plete revision of her person, regardless of the time it would require ; 
 and so, beginning with the damask cheek, she removed the before- 
 mentioned pallor by the slightest possible touch of rouge, and that 
 giving satisfaction, she then proceeded to array herself in a charming 
 negligee of black and violet foullard. 
 
 Miss Hazey was a pretty, sunny, blue-eyed girl of some twenty 
 years of age, with a terrible taste for coquetting, which she gratified 
 
TARRING NEVILLE. 219 
 
 in the most liberal and promiscuous way. Lawyers, doctors, curates, 
 soldiers, sailors, all were alike to her. Indeed, her sole employment 
 peerned to be winning men's hearts, and throwing them away. Her own 
 was said to be equal parts steel and whalebone. Such was the young 
 lady who now re-entered the dining-room at Tarring Neville, with the 
 full determination of trying the force of her artillery upon the great and 
 desirable Mr. Eomford. It was not every day that she had such a chance. 
 
 Miss gave a well-feigned start, as if surprised at the unexpected 
 presence of strangers, which mamma seeing, and knowing her talent 
 for dissimulation, seconded by exclaiming, " Oh, come in, my dear ! 
 come in ! It's Mr. and Mrs. Eomford — I beg pardon, Mr. Eomford 
 and Mrs. Somerville. They've been out hunting already this morning, 
 while you, idle girl, have been dozing in bed." Then, turning to 
 Mrs. Somerville, who was just chipping the shell of a guinea-fowl egg, 
 she said, " This is my daughter, Anna Maria, Mrs. Somerville : Mr. 
 Eomford, my dear." "Whereupon Miss Anna Maria gave two of her 
 best Erighton boarding-school curtsies, and took up a favourable posi- 
 tion, with her back to the light, immediately opposite our master. As 
 she unfolded her napkin, she looked deliberately at him, and thought 
 what a queer dooking man he was, — queer eyes, queer nose, queer 
 hair, queer altogether. "Must be rich," thought she, "he's so ugly." 
 And Facey, peering at her out of the corners of his little pig eyes, 
 thought she was just as smart a little girl as ever he had seen — un- 
 commonly smart little girl — just his fancy of a girl, in fact. He then 
 leistered the other layer of roll. And now Mr. Hazey, wishing to 
 know to what cause they were indebted for the honour of this early 
 visit — especially to know how Mr. Eomford's hounds came to be in 
 his country — essayed to direct the conversation into the hunting 
 line. 
 
 "So you didn't kill the fox, you say?" observed he, reverting to 
 Mr. Eomford's early-bird rejoinder; "so you didn't kill the fox, you 
 eay?" 
 
 " No," replied Eomford, " no. Fact was, I didn't care much 
 about killin' him." 
 
 " Must have been a good fox, though," observed Mr. Hazey ; 
 " brought you a long way out of your country, you know ;" wondering 
 whether Mr. Eomford had been drawing his (Mr. Hazey's) outside 
 cover, Eavensclugh Gorse, on the sly. 
 
 " No, not a bad fox," assented Eomford; " not a bad fox. Indeed, 
 that made me less anxious to kill him. You see, we had a blank day 
 yesterday, and I thought if I could blood a few couple of hounds with 
 a bad fox it would keep them steady for Saturdaj^; but, as usual, 
 
220 mr. facey romford's hounds. 
 
 when one wants a bad fox, one gets a good 'un, and he brought us 
 here to breakfast with you. I've left him. somewhere about your 
 place here," added he. 
 
 "Ah, well, I'm much obliged. I'll hunt him back to you some 
 day," replied Mr. Hazey. 
 
 "Do," replied Mr. Romford, "and kill him, if you can, in the 
 open ; but mind, don't dig him ! " added he, glancing significantly at 
 Hazey, who was rather addicted to digging. 
 
 " Oh, no ! honour bright !" replied his host. " "Wouldn't do such a 
 thing for the world !" 
 
 " Wouldn't trust you," thought our master, remembering the 
 character Independent Jimmy gave him. 
 
 Ladies are generally better hands at talking and eating at the same 
 time than gentlemen are. At all events, Lucy eclipsed Mr. Pacey in 
 that performance; for she chatted away, while Facey, in schoolboy 
 parlance, " let his meat stop his mouth." She talked about the opera, 
 and she talked about the Prince and Princess of Wales, and she talked 
 about the Court, and she talked of great people in such a social way, 
 that Mrs. Hazey felt as if she was regularly inducted into high life. 
 It was quite clear Mrs. Somerville moved in the highest circles ; and 
 Mrs. Hazey thought what an advantage it would be to her daughter if 
 Mrs. Somerville would take Anna Maria by the hand. So she smiled, 
 and simpered, and assented to everything Mrs. Somerville said, 
 mingling her applause with judicious appliances of coffee and tea. And 
 Lucy, being pleased with her reception, and the evident respect that 
 was paid to her, laid herself out to be extra-agreeable, and talked very 
 magnificently of herself and her doings, and said that though Beldon 
 Hall was a very comfortable place, yet it wasn't so good a house as she 
 expected to find it. And Miss Anna Maria, who always let the 
 gentlemen digest her beauty properly before she began to exercise her 
 arts and allurements, now seeing Mr. Eomford examining her atten- 
 tively, just went on playing with her breakfast, exhibiting first her 
 pretty hand, then her pretty teeth, next her pretty dimples, by a smile; 
 until thinking he was ready for the grand assault of the tongue, she 
 fixed the artillery of her beautiful, well-fringed blue eyes full upon 
 him, and asked if he was fond of archery. 
 
 " Oh, why, yes — no; — oi mean oi don't care a great deal about it. 
 Pretty amusement enough. Day should be fine, though," added he, 
 " or it's very poor fun." 
 
 " Yes, the day should be fine," assented Miss Hazey, who had been 
 drenched in a thunderstorm at the last one she was at. 
 
 They then indulged in a slight discussion upon fishing, at which, of 
 
TARRING NEVILLE. 221 
 
 course, Facey was more at home ; in the midst of which, breakfast being 
 at length concluded, Mrs. Hazey offered Mrs. Somerville the great 
 feminine treat of showing her over her house. Facey and Hazey then, 
 we need scarcely say, paired off to the stables. 
 
 While the foregoing scene was enacting in the house, "my boy 
 Bill," ever anxious for reliable information, and always more happy in 
 the stables than in the parlour, had slunk away to the former, there to 
 eee what he could make out of Mr. Bon; ford's horses. And Leotard 
 having finished the very moderate feed of corn Mr. Silkey, the groom, 
 vouchsafed him, now began sniffing and staring about, as horses will 
 sniff and stare about in a strange stable ; in this case, perhaps to see 
 if there was any more corn coining. Then, as " Satan still," as it 
 has been beautifully expressed, " finds work for idle hands to do," so 
 the boy Bill bethought him he w r ould give Leotard a round in the 
 exercising ground at the back of the stables, and put him over the 
 leaping -bar, and a few of the make-believe fences his father had 
 established for the purpose of training his horses. So he told a helper 
 to put on the bridle, and this being done, and the horse led forth, Bill 
 mounted in the confident sort of way that a man mounts a lady's horse, 
 thinking, if a lady can ride him, anybody else can. And it was lucky 
 that Bill began calmly, for a side-saddle not affording a very eligible 
 investment for a gentleman's person, if Bill had begun either in the 
 bucketing or the timorous strain, Leotard would in all probability have 
 kicked him over his head, whereas, Bill just employing the same light 
 hand that Mrs. Somerville had used, the horse went poking along as 
 quietly as could be, fulfilling all Bill's behests, first over the bar, then 
 over the hurdle, next over the rail, and finally over the furze-coped 
 on-and-off mound. And Bill, patting him on the safe completion of 
 the last feat, thought he was quite as safe and clever a lady's horse as 
 it was possible to find. "With this conviction he pulled up into a w r alk, 
 and returned leisurely along to the stable, hoping he might not 
 encounter Leotard's fair owner by the way. Luckily, however, he 
 got safe back, and Silkey had the horse restored to its stall, and all the 
 stables put into apple-pie order, ere his master came heralding the 
 great Mr. Romford along to the stud. Some people have a wonderful 
 pleasure in staring at horses — staring at them just as ladies stare at 
 bonnets; the gentlemen, doubtless, thinking how well they would look 
 on them, just as the ladies think how w r ell they would look in them. 
 Still, staring at horses is much more stupid than staring at bonnets, 
 for with horses you haven't the w r hole case before you. If the bonnets 
 were enveloped in tissue, or cap paper, as the horses are in clothing 
 und straw, a very slight glimpse would satisfy the ladies; whereas one 
 
222 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 sees men —at Tattersall's, for instance — staring -week after week at 
 horses, who never buy a horse, who never bid for a horse, and who, 
 if they had a horse, would very likely not know whether to mount 
 at the right side or the left; yet, there they go — most likely taking 
 a couple of catalogues each, pushing, and elbowing, and asking all 
 sorts of absurd questions of the grooms and helpers, and finding all 
 sorts of mare's-nests for themselves and their friends. 
 
 But our brother masters of hounds are now approaching the stables — 
 sauntering along, each trying to make a mental estimate of the other. As 
 in all show places, from "Windsor Castle downwards, they begin with the 
 smaller rooms first, and proceed to those of increased size and importance, 
 until they culminate in the baronial or some great hall ; so Mr. Hazey 
 always passed an expectant purchaser through the servants' horses stable 
 before introducing him to the grand exhibition of his own. On these 
 interesting occasions our delicate-minded master had hitherto always 
 pretended to play second fiddle to Silkey, who had a most insinuating 
 way of recommending a horse, never pressing him, indeed, but rather 
 expressing his reluctance to part with him ; always declaring in confi- 
 dence to a customer that he thought he was "just about the very best 
 'oss he ever had through his hands, but master really was so 'ticlar 
 and fanciful that there was no sich thing as pleasing him. If an 'oss 
 pulled an ounce more than he liked, he would part with him ; if he 
 went a little gayer at his fences than he was accustomed to, he would 
 cast him. Altogether there was no such thing as suiting him." 
 
 " Ah, sir," Silkey would conclude with a sigb, and a shrug of his 
 shoulders, " I wish I had all the money master has wasted in 'osses 
 since I first came to him — make me a very comfortable independence, 
 I assure you." 
 
 If Silkey had put it the other way, and said if he had all the money 
 he had helped his master to cheat other people of, he would not have 
 been far wrong in his assertion. 
 
 Now, however, since the boy Bill came home he had rather taken 
 the initiative out of Silkey's hands, though, to do Bill justice, he was 
 clever enough to strike out a fresh line of his own, and, instead of 
 "but"-ing, like Silkey, he used to praise the horse they wanted to 
 sell, or, rather, the horse they thought the other party wanted to buy, 
 so superlatively — Bill declaring he didn't think his father would part 
 with him for '-'any money" — that instead of taking a trifle off the 
 price as the "but" used to do, it enabled Mr. Hazey to put something 
 on ; a much more agreeable process than the other. But Silkey waxed 
 sulky under the change, considering that no gentleman ought to inter- 
 fere with the just prerogatives of his groom. 
 
TAKEING NEVILLE. 22S 
 
 "The idea of using me so ! " said Silkey to his friend Jawkins, tho 
 huntsman. " The idea of his using me so ! /who always treated him 
 like a brother !" 
 
 And now Mr. Hazey, having got our great master Mr. Romford 
 fairly through the servants' horses stables, gradually dropped astern as 
 he came to his own, leaving the redoubtable Bill to pilot the way, and 
 expatiate on their extraordinary merits as they went. This stable- 
 contained the joint-stock stud; viz., Mr. Hazey's and the boy Bill's, 
 but Bill thinking it would be more to the honour and glory of the 
 establishment to announce them all as his father's, inducted our master 
 into the presence with the observation, "Ah ! these are the governor's 
 horses — five for his own riding, you see — rather more than he wants, 
 p'r'aps, for three days a week, but still he likes to be over-horsed, and 
 doesn't care much about cost. 
 
 Then Bill went up first to Volunteer, then to Lottery, then to Gay 
 and Sure, then to the Clipper, and lastly, to Topthorn, patting and 
 praising and caressing them as though they were the greatest favourites 
 under the sun, that no money could purchase, though in reality Volun- 
 teer was the only horse Hazey had had during the last season, and he,, 
 too, had been sold and returned, charged with having an incipient 
 cataract — of which little defect, of course, neither Hazey nor Silkey 
 knew anything. He was now waiting for a convenient turn of the 
 complaint to go up to the hammer to be sold as the property of a 
 gentleman who never warranted, with Silkey to do the cajolers. 
 " Sound an 'oss as ever stepped — master, full of fancies, doesn't 
 know a good 'oss when he has one." That is, of course, always 
 presuming that Silkey was properly primed and propitiated for the 
 occasion. 
 
 And now the boy Bill, having at length concluded his loving lauda- 
 tions, his beloved parent came sauntering in from the other end of 
 the stable, and, seeing the performance was about over, just glanced 
 his eye aiong the stalls, and then asked Mr. Bomford to take a seat on 
 the corn-bin and finish his pipe, an invitation that Bomford readily 
 complied with, and the two were presently in full puff. 
 
 "Whiff, puff, whiff — " That's a good horse," said Hazey, nodding at 
 Gay and Sure. 
 
 Puff, whiff, puff — " Is he?" said Bomford, eyeing him. 
 
 Whiff, puff, whiff — " Gave a vast of money for him," observed 
 Hazey. 
 
 " Fifty, p'r'aps," puffed Facey. 
 
 " Fijty ! " ejaculated Bill — " four fifties, I should think, would be 
 nearer the mark." They had given eighty, and got two back. 
 
224 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 And the ladies on their parts having equally interesting subjects to 
 discuss, daAvdled and sauntered; and Mrs. Hazey, in return for a delicate 
 compliment on her daughter's beauty, having favoured Mrs. Somerville 
 ■with a recital of her many eligible offers, knights, baronets, honourable?, 
 our fair friend, thinking her hostess seemed like a good conduit pipe, 
 wherein to convey spurious information, essayed to return the compli- 
 ment, by giving her a slight sketch of herself and her own career. To 
 this end she informed Mrs. Hazey that she had two thousand a-year join- 
 ture, besides a pension as a field officer's widow, but that one thousand 
 a-year would go from her if she married again; that her nephew 
 Charley Somerville, of the Lady Killer Lancers, to whom the thousand 
 a-year would go, would gladly compound with her for five hundred 
 a-year, but that he was a very profligate young man, much addicted 
 to casinos and sherry-coblers, and she would not further his extrava- 
 gance by any such arrangement ; all of which Mrs. Hazey imbibed 
 with great interest, but seemed to think there was no occasion for 
 Mrs. Somerville to sacrifice herself to her naughty nephew. And 
 having, like her husband, a keen eye to business, she began asking 
 about the nephew's age and position, thinking perhaps her daughter 
 could reclaim him from casinos and coblers, all of which Mrs. Somer- 
 ville answered satisfactorily ; whereupon Mrs. Hazey very adroitly, as 
 ehe thought, suggested, that if Mrs. Somerville felt a real interest in 
 the young man's welfare, it might be the means of retrieving him from 
 bad connections, to bring him down to Beldon Hall and give him some 
 hunting. And Mrs. Somerville seemed at first to be rather taken with 
 the idea, but on second thoughts, she felt it was of no use complicating 
 matters, so she quashed the idea altogether, by saying he had a wash- 
 ball seat, and couldn't ride across country ; adding that she never knew 
 a casino frequenter who could ; besides which, the Lady Killer Lancers 
 were ordered to Dublin ; so there was an end of the matter. 
 
 The mention of hunting, however, opened out the question how 
 long Mrs. Somerville was going to stay in Doubleimupshire, — a point 
 that she was not at all inclined to enlighten Mrs. Hazey upon; so 
 looking at her pretty Geneva watch, set with brilliants (the' uncon- 
 scious gift of a west-end watchmaker), she exclaimed, " Oh, dear, do 
 you know what o'clock it is ? I declare Mr. Romford will think I 
 am lost. Oh, do let us go to the gentlemen; I'd no idea it was half so 
 late." So saying, she gathered up her habit very scientifically, and, 
 piloted by Mrs. Hazey, proceeded to the stables by the short cut through, 
 the back yard, under a chain-rattling salute of Bow-wow-woics from a 
 great black and white Newfoundland dog. 
 
 Entering the court, Mrs. Hazey made direct for her husband's 
 
TARRING NEVILLE. 225 
 
 stable, where, seated on the corn-bin. she found the gentlemen still 
 continuing their smoking discussions. 
 
 " Ah, here you are at last ! " exclaimed Mr. Romford, as he got a 
 glimpse of the habit, " here you are at last ! " adding, " thought 
 you'd gone to bed. "Well, now," continued he, " let us be moving. 
 Where are the horses ? Bid them put on the bridles, and turn their 
 heads where their tails should be." 
 
 So saying, he got off the bin, and, pocketing his pipe, proceeded to 
 stamp in a very would-be-doing sort of way. 
 
 " Oh, there's no hurry," observed Mr. Hazey, " no hurry." 
 
 "Oh no, no hurry," assented Mr. Romford; "only the days are 
 short, and one should make the most of what there is." 
 
 " Wouldn't you like to come and see our Dorking fowls and Dorset- 
 shire ewes?" now interposed Mrs. Hazey. 
 
 "After a bit," replied Romford, "after a bit, when one can have 
 some mint sauce with them, you know," added he. 
 
 The sight of the habit had set the stable-men on the alert, and the 
 bridles being adjusted, the horses were presently wheeling round in 
 their stalls to be ready for mounting. And as Leotard's Arab-like 
 head and snakey neck were followed by his elegant figure, Hazey stood 
 by, drawing his breath, thinking how he would like to have the 
 selling of him. There is nothing so lucrative, so money-making as 
 a showy lady's horse. If the lady says " buy," it must be buy,, 
 whatever the price ; if she takes a dislike, the horse must be got rid 
 of, whatever the sacrifice. 
 
 "Ah, that's a neat 'un," said Mr. Hazey to Lucy, with more 
 than his usual candour. He generally praised with a reservation, 
 an "if" or a "but;" and this piece of praise was the exception 
 to the general rule. " Ah, that's a neat 'un," said he, conning 
 him over. " Beautiful head and neck ; best set-on tail I ever 
 saw : " these being, as Hazey well knew, the cardinal points of a 
 lady's horse. 
 
 " Yes he is," replied Lucy, now tendering him her taper hand ; 
 having already saluted Mrs. and Miss Hazey, and also the boy 
 Bill. 
 
 " Good-bye, my dear Mrs. Somerville ! " exclaimed Mr. Hazey, 
 grasping it fervently ; adding, "I'm very much obliged to the fox for 
 bringing you here. Hope you'll come of your own accord next 
 time." 
 
 " Thank you, Mr. Hazey," replied Lucy, now slightly raising he? 
 habit, and tendering her little foot for Romford to mount her. 
 
 The man of the muscular arm lifted her up as buoyantly as a cork. 
 
226 mr. facey romford's hounds. 
 
 Drawing her thin reins, she touched Leotard lightly with the whip, 
 and put him with his head on to slightly rising ground. 
 
 Romford noted the movement, and thought to reward Hazey's con- 
 fidence hy giving him a slight insight into Leotard's character. 
 
 " That's one of the most perfect lady's pads I ever saw," said 
 Romford, taking Hazey a few paces off, so that he might contemplate 
 him like a picture. " But he's just one fault, — at least so my sister 
 thinks ; he wants a little driving at his fences, whereas she likes a free 
 goer." 
 
 "Indeed!" said Hazey, noting the defect; and, being now down 
 wind of Mrs. Hazey, he added (loud enough to be heard by Lucy), 
 " "Well, horse and rider are uncommonly handsome — perfect pictures 
 both of them." 
 
 Then came out that magnificent weight-carrying hunter, " Pull 
 Devil Pull Baker," with his great arms, magnificent shoulders, and 
 lean handsome head, — looking like a perfect Placid Joe, both in mind 
 and manners. 
 
 "Ah, that's something like a horse!" exclaimed Mr. Hazey, his 
 jold eyes sparkling with animation as he surveyed him. " That's 
 something like a horse. Three 'undred guineas' worth I guess." 
 
 "Four," replied Pacey, confidentially; "leastways, two two's. 
 Oi've a patent way," continued he, "of concealing my extravagances, 
 by giving two cheques for one horse : one on my London banker, and 
 the other on my country one, so that neither of them know the extent 
 of my gullibility." 
 
 " "Well, but if you want to sell," suggested Mr. Hazey. 
 
 "Oh, then the horse speaks for himself," replied Mr. Romford. 
 " It doesn't follow because oi give too much that another man must do 
 the same. One always expects to lose by a horse." 
 
 So saying, Mr. Romford then approached and mounted the Baker, 
 sitting in the ostentatious sort of way of a man who is conscious that 
 he is cocked on the top of a "good 'un." 
 
 "What do you call him?" asked Miss Anna Maria, who had now 
 joined the group. 
 
 "Placid Joe," replied Romford, patting him on the neck, well 
 knowing it wouldn't do to call him by his right one. 
 
 " Ah, he looks very good-tempered," observed the lady. 
 All things being at length ready for a start, the loose-box door wap 
 opened, out came the hounds with a cry, when, with mutual adieus, away 
 the cavalcade proceeded to find their way across country to Beldon Hall. 
 
 And Mr. Hazey having watched Leotard's action over the cobble- 
 stones, to which he could take no exception whatever, and having seen 
 
TARRING NEVILLE. 227 
 
 the last loitering hound disappear, after a few moments lost in deep 
 meditation, turned round to his wife saying, " Well, now, that's as rum 
 a go as ever I saw in my life.'' 
 
 "How, my dear?" asked Mrs. Hazey, now duly impressed with 
 the £2,000-a-year story. 
 
 " Well, the get-up, the turn-out, the whole thing," replied Mr. 
 Hazey. 
 
 " Well, but it's only a chance visit, my dear," observed Mrs. Hazey. 
 
 " True," said Hazey, " true ; but still he's a rum 'un anyhow." 
 
 "There's a good deal of character about him, certainly," assented 
 his wife. 
 
 " I like his horses better than I do himself," observed Mr. Hazey, 
 after a pause. " But I do wonder that a man who can have such fine 
 horses should not have a pair of better boots." 
 
 "Not particular about appearances, perhaps?" suggested Mrs. 
 Hazey. 
 
 "That's a nice nag, that cream-colour," observed Bill, now joining 
 his beloved parents. 
 
 "Ah, we must keep an eye on him," said his father. "Shouldn't 
 wonder if there might be a penny turned by that horse. What was 
 it Romford said about him — that he didn't go freely at his fences, or 
 something ?" 
 
 "I think it was something of that sort," replied his wife, who did 
 not take much interest in equestrian matters. 
 
 "Oh, I should say he was rather a nice fencer," observed Bill. 
 
 " How do you know?" asked his father. 
 
 " I tried him — tried him when you were all in at breakfast." 
 
 " Clever lad ! " exclaimed Hazey, patting him on the back. " Clever 
 lad ! Never miss a chance, that's a good fellow — always keep your 
 weather eye open, my boy;" so saying, the trio proceeded leisurely 
 back to the house. 
 
 And as talks-over are always mutual, Mr. Romford and Lucy had 
 the Hazeys on the tapis as soon as the breadth of the Herdlaw road 
 enabled the hounds to get away from among their horses' feet. 
 
 "Well, and what did you make of Mother V/hat's-her-name?" 
 asked Mr. Romford, with a backward jerk of his head to indicate who 
 he meant. 
 
 "Oh, well, she was very affable," replied Lucy. 
 
 " Well, but did you gammon her well?" asked Romford, meaning 
 about himself. 
 
 " Oh, beautifully ! Told her I had tv.o thousand a year jointure, 
 and I don't know what else." 
 
 Q 2 
 
£28 MR. FACEY ROMFORD'S HOUNDS. 
 
 "Oh, the deuce!" exclaimed Romford, "but you shouldn't hare 
 done that." 
 
 " Why not ?" asked Lucy. 
 
 " "Why not!" repeated Romford, "why, because you'll have every 
 unmarried man in the country after you." 
 
 " Well, but I told her I lost a thousand a year if I married again." 
 
 "Oh, that won't stop them," retorted Facey — "that won't stop 
 them. Bless your heart, a thousand a year will draw men from all the 
 corners of the earth. You should have said you lost it all, and then 
 they would have abused Somerville, and it would have saved our door- 
 bell. They'll eat us oat of house and home," added he, thinking of 
 the dreadful consequences of the invasion, — the disappearance of his 
 cold meat, his cold game, his cold pie ; nay, he wouldn't answer for 
 his Saturday's resurrection puddings, consisting of all the odds and 
 ends of the week, being safe from the intrusion of the suitors. 
 
 Mr. Romford didn't like it. No good could come of it, for she 
 couldn't marry with old Soapey alive, and to have his house besieged 
 by all the idle fortune-hunters of the country was more than he could 
 endure. And he jogged on silently in a very mystified contemplative 
 mood, with an occasional pull of his beard, thinking he would have to 
 rake and watch the gravel ring very attentively. But in his inmost 
 thoughts came the conviction that Miss Hazey was much prettier than 
 Miss Watkins, and, though it was very imprudent even thinking oi 
 her. hie thoughts would run that way. 
 
CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 ME. AND MRS. HAZEr's INVITATION. 
 
 Great as was Mr. Eomford's general success in Doubleimupshire, 
 both as a sportsman and a protege of Lord Lovetin, in no part, per- 
 haps, was it more signal than at Tarring Neville, where they looked 
 upon him as a most desirable acquaintance, showing, at all events, that 
 two of a trade do not always disagree. To be sure, Mr. Hazey thought 
 that a man who was simple enough to keep foxhounds for a benevolent 
 object — namely, founding an hospital for decayed sportsmen — might 
 very likely be easily victimised in the matter of a horse ; while Mrs. 
 Hazey thought the owner of Abbeyfield Park, J.P., D.L., patron of 
 three livings, would be an extremely eligible partie for her daughter. 
 Not that she was mercenary ; only she liked to see affluence. Love 
 in a cottage found no favour with her. Love in a castle was a far 
 better thing. 
 
 With feelings such as these, it was easily settled that the unexpected 
 morning visit caused by the bag fox should stand in the place of a 
 regular call ; a return, in fact, of the pilgrimage that Hazey and the 
 boy Bill made to Beldon Hall on the Sunday. That settled, and the 
 larder and meets of the respective hounds being consulted, then came 
 the question who they should ask, — whether Mr. Romford and his 
 sister, or Mr. Romford alone ; Mrs. and Miss Hazey thinking they 
 would do as well without Mrs. Somerville ; Mr. Hazey, on his part, 
 contending that they would have no chance of getting Mr. Romford 
 without Mrs. Somerville. Mr. Hazey was sure Mr. Romford wouldn't 
 come alone. Didn't look at all like a man to dress up after hunting, 
 to turn out again in the cold, to trail across country in the dead of 
 winter for a dinner. He would be too careful of his carriage-horses 
 for that. Mrs. Hazey combated the objection by saying they could 
 ask him to stay all night, and made some deprecatory remarks about 
 the trouble of having women and their maids ; adding, that Mrs. 
 Somerville would, most likely, have some fine costly sensitive creature, 
 who would be far more difficult to please than her mistress. But Mr. 
 Hazey adhered to his opinion, that if they wanted Mr. Romford, they 
 oiust ask Mrs Somerville also; and dreading the "I told you so," if 
 
230 MR. FACET ROMFORD'S HOUNDS. 
 
 they failed in securing Mr. Romford, they were ohliged to accede, and 
 invite Mrs. Somerville as well. 
 
 So it was settled that both should be asked, Mrs. Somerville by the 
 ladies, and Mr. Romford by the gentleman; and as the cards for the 
 next week's meets of the hounds were just about to be issued, a lawn 
 meet was made for Tarring Neville on Mr. Romford's non-hunting 
 day. Then Anna Maria proceeded to draw up an elaborate but appa- 
 rently off-hand document, in the familiar strain, on behalf of mamma, 
 inviting her dear Mrs. Somerville to give them the pleasure of her 
 company on "Wednesday, and stay till Friday. And after several altera- 
 tions of phrase, and careful guarding against Mrs. Somerville coming 
 alone, she got the draft to her and mamma's liking ; and, drawing out 
 a sheet of superfine cream-laid note paper (slightly scented), proceeded, 
 with the aid of a new pen, to copy it in her best handwriting for 
 sending. The new pen, like most new pens, didn't go freely at first; it 
 was like a newly-shod horse wanting to find its feet, and the first note 
 was condemned at the third line. The. second was found no better, 
 for she put two w's into "Wednesday ; and in the third attempt the 
 tiresome pen made a trip and a splutter at the word pleasure, and she 
 couldn't think of sending that either. The fourth, however, she got to 
 her mind, and presented to her mamma for approval. Thus it ran : — 
 
 " Tarring Neville. 
 " My dear Mrs. Somerville, — It will give us sincere pleasure if this 
 should be fortunate enough to find you disengaged, and if you would 
 accompany Mr. Romford here on Wednesday, and stay till Friday. I 
 fear we cannot offer you any great attractions; but the hounds will 
 meet here on Thursday, and we hope you will bring your horse, and 
 partake of the pleasures of the chase with the Hard and Sharp Hounds. 
 Mr. Hazey joins in kind regards, and hopes to see you, with, my dear 
 Mrs. Somerville, ever yours very sincerely, 
 
 " Mary Hazey." 
 
 And Hazey, albeit of the cozening order, was rather puzzled how to 
 address our friend Mr. Romford, whether as " Dear Romford," " Dear 
 Mr. Romford," "Dear Sir," or how. " Dear Romford" would have 
 done well enough to a three-days-a-week master, with a subscription ; 
 but here was a four-days-a-week one, with an occasional bye, who was 
 going to devote his subscription to a charitable purpose. Then, if Hazey 
 was to "sir," " dear sir," or "my dear sir" him, Mr. Romford might 
 think it rather stiff; and, altogether, Hazey thought the best plan was 
 to take the middle course, and " Mr." him, — address him as " Dear 
 
MR. AND MRS. HAZEY's INVITATION. 231 
 
 Mr. Romford." So our master, having made up his mind on that 
 point, echoed his daughter's letter without the flummeiy; adding, 
 that he had a stall for Mr. Romford's horse, and thought he could 
 promise him a good fox. And Mr. Hazey sealed it with a fine butter- 
 pat-like coat of arms seal of many quarterings, many stags, many 
 rings, many falcons, the whole surmounted by his crest of a lion with 
 a kitchen-poker-like tail. Then the letters went to the post, and 
 expectation presently stood on tip-toe, speculating whether they would 
 come or not ; Mrs. Hazey saying they would, Mr. Hazey taking the 
 other side, and the boy Rill going halves with his father in a sixpenny 
 bet on the event. 
 
 Facey was at the kennel when the letters came ; but Lucy saw by 
 the post-mark that they were from the same quarter, and anticipated 
 the contents of her brother's by her own. She was all for going, all 
 for taking Leotard, all for making hay while the sun shone. Rut 
 knowing that Facey would require a little coaxing, she didn't meet 
 him open-mouthed with his letter, lest Chowey, or Swig, or some of 
 the queer ones might have gone wrong at the kennel, but kept it 
 quietly in her work-box, till, having made a hearty dinner off hot 
 beef pudding and Edinburgh ale, he had got half through a pipe and 
 a whole glass of gin in his smoking-chair, before she began. 
 
 " Oh dear ! " exclaimed she, as if she had quite forgotten it until 
 that moment, " I've a letter for you," rising, and pretending to bustle 
 for it in her work-box. 
 
 " Letter {puff) for me " (puff), growled Facey. " Who can it be 
 from?" taking the pipe from his mouth. Facey didn't like letters ; 
 he thought they might be disagreeable ones. 
 
 " "Well, I think it's from Mr. — Mr. — what do they call him ? Hard 
 and Sharp, you know ? " 
 
 " Oh, Hazey," said Romford, comforted by the sound, and turning 
 half round in his chair to replenish his glass. 
 
 " Yes, Hazey," replied Lucy, producing the letter, and giving it to 
 him. 
 
 " Read it," said Romford, handing it back to her. 
 Lucy broke the seal and did as desired ; while Facey resumed his 
 beloved pipe. 
 
 " See him first," said Facey, when she was done 
 
 reading. 
 
 " Oh dear, but I should like to go ! " exclaimed Lucy. 
 "But you're not axed," replied Facey, with a knowing leer of his 
 little pig-eye. 
 
 " Yes, I am," rejoined Lucy, producing her card. 
 
232 MR. FACET ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 "Humph!" mused Facey, after a pause. "Don't think that'll 
 pay!" 
 
 " Why not ? " asked Lucy. 
 
 " Oh, hother of getting there — costs I don't know how much ! 
 Can hunt here, eat here, drink here, — do everything here that they 
 propose doing there." 
 
 " Oh, but consider the society," observed Mrs. Sidney Benson, 
 interposing in her daughter's behalf. 
 
 " Fiddle the society," said Romford ; " oi can't make anything of the 
 6ort out of it." 
 
 The fact was, Facey had thought the Anna-Maria project over, and 
 saw the imprudence of the idea. Dalberry Lees was clearly the place 
 for his money. 
 
 Still Lucy returned to the charge. She wanted to go and air some 
 of her fine clothes; and if the money was the only obstacle, she 
 thought she could get over that. 
 
 " Might ride our own horses over, and send Dirty with our things 
 by the Oldbury coach," observed she. 
 
 " Ay, but it's about as much as oi can manish to mount myself 
 with my own hounds," observed Facey, "without goin' to see other 
 folks. Besides, Swig lamed Oliver Twist the last day we were out, 
 and Bounding Ben and the grey are both coughing." 
 
 "Well, but you might ask H. to mount you," continued Lucy; 
 adding, "I dare say he'd be most happy to do so." 
 
 "Not quite so sure of that," said Facey, looking down at his big 
 legs; "rather above the mounting size, you see." 
 
 "Oh, but then you're a careful rider," rejoined Lucy, who was not 
 easily turned from her point. 
 
 "That's as may be," said Romford; " but, harm' a pack of hounds 
 of my own — perhaps the best in England — with both wittles and 
 drink in abundance, I don't see what earthly use it is goin' over there 
 to get the very same things that one has here. That's not what they 
 call the economy of labour." 
 
 The fact was, Facey was just a man for his food, and no more. He 
 didn't want his appetite whetted and petted and coaxed ; and, having 
 suffered the persecution of two parties, was not at all inclined to 
 venture on a third. Besides, he had spent eighteen shillings in getting 
 to Dalberry Lees, and that would serve him the rest of the season. 
 Of course he hadn't given Independent Jimmy or the servants at the 
 Lees anything ; but, still, the vehicle and the gates there and back 
 had come to that amount. " It was payin' for being made miserable," 
 he said. What good did it do him dinin' off plate ? He could eafc 
 
MR. AAD MRS. HAZEYS INVITATION. 233 
 
 off pewter quite as well, if not better. As to a fine bed, it was all 
 lost upon him : be was none tbe better for snoozin' in one — could sleep 
 in a barn, for that matter — under a haystack, if it didn't rain. 
 
 " Oh, but society — the pleasures of society ! A little change, you 
 know, is always agreeable. It doesn't do for people to live too much 
 alone — get awkward and stupid," urged Lucy. 
 
 " Well, you can go," said Romford. " Dirty and you can go by 
 the coach, just as well as Dirty alone." 
 
 " I'm afraid they've blocked me for that," replied Lucy ; " they've 
 only asked me if you go ; besides, it wouldn't look well for me to go 
 by the coach, you know — coaches are only for common people." 
 
 Puff, whiff, puff, went Mr. Romford, meditating the matter. 
 " Coach eighteen -pence, Dirty, say a shilling — two-and-six; two-and- 
 six there, two-and-six back — five shillings: not worth the money," 
 resolved he, turning in his chair. He then tried the expense of the 
 other course — Dirty by the coach, Lucy and himself to ride. " Coach 
 for Dirty, say tw r o shillin's, or p'r'aps one-and-nine, if they made a 
 stiff bargain ; then, two horses found for the night, say save eighteen - 
 pence apiece at home by that ; two selves found, dinner and breakfast 
 each — pu'j it, then, at two shillin's a head altogether, that would be 
 four shillin's, and three shillin's would be seven shillin's ; seven 
 shillin's saved, except the one-and-ninepence or two shillin's for 
 Dirtiest of the Dirty' s fare — say five shillin's saved ; but then there 
 would be no end of trouble and persecution, and eating and drinking 
 things he didn't want." 
 
 Lucy, however, combated all objections. She would arrango 
 matters ; she would see and pack up his things, so that he should have 
 nothing to do but get on to his horse and accompany her, and when he 
 arrived at Tarring Neville he would find his things all laid out on the 
 sofa before the fire, ready for putting on. 
 
 And Facey, despite all his prudence, having a lively recollection of 
 the blue-eyed lady, and not altogether disinclined to see her again, at, 
 length gave a sort of silent assent, which Lucy immediately clenched 
 by writing to her dear Mrs. Hazey, accepting Mr. Hazey's and her 
 very kind invitation for her brother Romford and herself; adding, that 
 they would ride their own horses over, and she would send her maid 
 by the coach, if her dear friend would have the kindness to send some- 
 body to meet it. 
 
 So Mr. Hazey and his boy Bill lost sixpence between them on the 
 event. 
 
 And, on the appointed day, Dirtiest of the Dirty was seen getting 
 into the dribbling Oldbury coach at Beldon Hall Lodges, on to the roof 
 
23 i MR. FACEY ROMFORD'S HOUNDS. 
 
 of which was then piled a quantity of luggage, looking as if the 
 owners of it were going on a visit for a week. Dirty wore her 
 Dalberry Lees pearl -and -ruby ring quite ostentatiously. The 
 passengers being strangers to her, she of course thought she was 
 equally unknown to them. So she bounced very considerably : telling 
 them her lady was a nobleman's daughter^* that she (Dirty) had lived 
 with her two years ; that when they left Beldon Hall, they were going 
 to stay with the Queen at Pimlico Palace, and afterwards with 
 Mr. Harker Tentrees at Bromley-by-Bow. Indeed, she talked so 
 imposingly, that, what with her tongue and her fine attire, if she had 
 not admitted her servitude, and also got in at the Beldon Hall Lodges, 
 her fellow-passengers would have doubted whether she was a Dirty or 
 some young lady on a visit to our master. 
 
 Then, at a somewhat later hour of the day, Mr. Romford and Mrs. 
 Somerville emerged on horseback from the Beldon Hall stable-yard — 
 Mrs. Somerville on the redoubtable Leotard, Mr. Romford on the equally 
 valuable Everlasting : our master having previously put the stable 
 establishment under the surveillance of Mr. Proudlock the keeper; 
 who, in his turn, was secretly watched by Billy Balsam ; and Billy by 
 Lucy's lynx-eyed mamma, Mrs. Benson. 
 
 Old Mother Benson, though not good enough to take abroad, 
 was very useful at home : for, being of a wandering disposition, she 
 was always trotting about, and turning up where nobody expected 
 her. 
 
 Lucy, we need scarcely say, was got up with the greatest care, 
 looking more as if she was going to ride in Rotten Row, or along the 
 esplanade at Brighton, instead of fighting her way aoross country, 
 unseen, perhaps, by any one. 
 
 Mr. Romford, on the other hand, was the sportsman in mufti, deer- 
 stalker hat, rough brownish Tweeds, and rusty Napoleons. Thus 
 attired, they set out on their travels, timing themselves so as to reach 
 Tarring Neville towards dusk, in order to have as little of that terrible 
 winter night's entertainment before dinner as possible. And having 
 a good eye for counting, Mr. Romford made a detour that not only 
 enabled him to fix his landmarks upon it, but also carried him clear 
 of those troublesome obstacles to some people's progress yclept turn- 
 pike-gates. So he reached Tarring NeviUe just at the time he pro- 
 posed, and, landing his sister at the front door under the proper 
 reception of the butler and footman, he led Leotard off with his own 
 horse to the stable, in order to see them properly put up for the night 
 before he thought of himself. " Men can ask for what they want, 
 horses can't," wasEacey's aphorism ; and he always made a point of 
 
MR. AND MRS. HAZEY's INVITATION. 235 
 
 seeing to his horses himself, a precaution that was more practised by 
 the last generation of sportsmen than by the present one. 
 
 No one, to see Mrs. Hazey's reception of Mrs. Somerville, would 
 have imagined for a moment that there had been any objection made 
 to asking her, so fervent and enthusiastic it seemed to be ; the only 
 thing that at all damped the ardour of the greeting being the non- 
 appearance of our hero Mr. Romford at her heels. This passing cloud 
 Mrs. Somerville speedily dispelled by saying that her brother had just 
 gone round to the stable, -whereupon the glow of enthusiasm was 
 renewed, and the seductive blandishments of the teapot recommended. 
 Mrs. Somerville declined tea, also the alternative of a glass of sherry 
 and a biscuit, observing that she had lunched just before they came 
 away; whereupon the conversation was turned into the weather-groove, 
 from which it naturally ran upon the roads and the state of the 
 country. 
 
 Mrs. Hazey was afraid Mrs. Somerville would find the roads very 
 dirty? 
 
 Oh no, she hadn't; they came by the fields. "That splash," said 
 she, looking at one on the side of her habit, "was got coming over 
 Cuckfield Common," and thereupon she held it to the fire to dry. 
 
 Mr. Hazey and Mr. Romford then presently entered the drawing- 
 room, after whom came the boy Bill, who had been loitering in the 
 stable to see whether Facey's horses were quiet to dress or not ; and 
 next Miss Anna Maria came sailing in in all the radiance of a recent 
 toilette. Then, after a cast back upon the weather, the roads, and the 
 state of the country, the gentlemen diverged upon the never-failing 
 topic of hunting — each master magnifying his more recent runs, and 
 the ladies discussing the taste and discrimination of milliners, and the 
 probable shape of the approaching spring bonnets and mantles. At 
 length the conversation began to flag, and Mrs. Somerville, whos? 
 thoughts had been running for some time on an unpacked box, con- 
 taining a charming evening dress she had brought for the occa 
 sion, gladly adopted Mrs. Hazey's suggestion, that perhaps she would 
 like to see her room, and gathering up her habit becomingly, she 
 followed her hostess up the staircase and along a passage to where 
 a partially-opened door disclosed the gleam of a newly stirred fire. 
 There, on the sofa, lay the charming evening dress, which ten 
 minutes before had been decorating the elegant person of Dirtiest 
 of the Dirty, who thought she looked uncommonly well in it. Mr. 
 Romford too, having got his candle, was conducted by his obse- 
 quious host to the other state apartment, which he presently perfumed 
 with a strong smell of tobacco. He then proceeded to decorate him* 
 
236 mr. facey romford's hounds. 
 
 self for dinner— scarlet coat, white vest, black trousers, such as he 
 wore at Dalberry Lees. And he really looked very civilised. 
 u Devilish handsome," as he said, when he came to examine himself 
 in the looking-glass. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 ME. HAZEY S HOSPITALITY. 
 
 Mb. Hazey reversed Dr. Channing's or somebody's recorded opinion 
 that, "not what a man has, but what he is, should guide us in esti- 
 mating his true value," for Hazey only looked to what his acquaint- 
 ance had — we mean in the way of wealth. Hence, any man with 
 plenty of money was sure to be a hero in Hazey's eyes. Nothing 
 so contemptible in his opinion as poverty. !Nbr birth, nor rank, nor 
 taste, nor talent could compensate for this fatal deficiency, "Poor 
 man — very poor man," he would say, with an air of compassionate 
 pity. Hazey dearly loved to talk about his own money; tell how 
 much he had in railway shares, how much in Turkish scrip, and how 
 much in Danish bonds and new hotels. In travelling, he generally 
 studied his banker's pass-book as a work of light reading for the rail, 
 confidentially revealing to his next neighbour the amount of cash stand- 
 ing to his credit. " Humph ! — not a bad balance," he would say, point- 
 ing to the figures— £1,490 2s. 8d. or £2,013 17s. Id.— " not a bad 
 balance for a mere country gentleman to keep;" — Hazey omitting to 
 mention that two-thirds of it were on a deposit receipt bearing three 
 per cent, interest, or as near three per cent, as he could screw out of 
 those who had it. With feelings such as these we need scarcely say 
 he issued his invitations on the £ s. d. principle, baiting his trap as 
 well with the inducement of having the great Mr. llomlord as the 
 temptation of meeting the rich widow, Mrs. Somerville. And Hazey 
 having been good enough to report her reputed jointure of two thou- 
 sand a year, paid quarterly, all the unmarried men in the country had 
 been trimming their whiskers and bucking up their garments in con- 
 sequence. Brisk widows are always in demand. Still Hazey's house 
 was never in great repute, for his cookery was only indifferent, and 
 his cellar composed of cheap and second-rate wine. So he had to fire 
 off f». good many supplementary notes after the first issue ; for people, 
 like porpoises, generally come in shoals, or decline coming altogether. 
 
MR. iiazey's hospitality. 237 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Large couldn't come. They had a party at 
 home. So they had, but it consisted only of themselves. The fact 
 was, Large wasn't pleased as to Mrs. Large not being taken out first on 
 a former occasion, and had resolved not to go to Tarring Neville any 
 more. 
 
 The Rollingers were extremely sorry they couldn't come ; Mr. and 
 Mrs. Chipperfield were the same ; and young Mr. Anthony Hallpike, 
 who was one of the catches of the country, declined rather unceremo- 
 niously, as young gentlemen will do sometimes. 
 
 Then the tide of refusal took a turn, and they got some acceptances. 
 Mr. and Mrs. Cropper would have great pleasure in, &c. ; Mr. and 
 Mrs. Gowleykins would be most happy ; Mr. Hibberbine had th& 
 honour ; and Mrs. Stirry and Miss "Winkler had the same ; the Rev. 
 Mr. Matthew Makepiece, the worthy rector of Slannington-cum-Starv- 
 ington, was also at their command. Then Mr. and Miss Makepiece, 
 who at first were only invited to tea, were promoted to the dinner- 
 table. Next there came a little contretemps ; for the Pannets of Syca- 
 more Hill, who at first were afraid they would not be able to come, 
 Uncle Joe (from whom they had great expectations) having volunteered 
 a visit, now wrote to say that Joe would put it off ; and this, too> 
 after the Hazeys had invited the Dumbletons to supply their places. 
 
 However, it all came right at last ; for the Dumbletons had bad colds, 
 touches of influenza indeed ; and the Pannets were not only better look- 
 ing, but dressed better ; in addition to which, Pannet was a water- 
 drinker, which Dumbleton was not, indeed far from it, being one of 
 the old sticking head-achey order, who never could be got away from 
 the dinner-table. And Gritty, the cook, was then weighted with a 
 party of sixteen, which might be increased to eighteen or twenty, 
 according or not as the Beddinglields of "Woldingham Manor, and Mr. 
 Bonus, who had as yet not answered, came or declined. But Gritty, 
 like all the common cooks, was not easily overpowered. Only give 
 her plenty of rum for the sauces, and she would undertake to get 
 through anything. 
 
 "Well, Mrs. Hazey, having duly arranged all the sauce and other 
 matters in the morning, and Hazey having told Basket how to deal 
 with the wine, they were free to enact the parts of disengaged host 
 and hostess; receive their dear Mrs. Somerville and Mr. Romford when 
 they came, then dress themselves diligently, and prepare to greet their 
 equally beloved out-of-door friends when they arrived. Miss, of course, 
 knew nothing of any of these domestic proceedings, and the boy Bill 
 was equally ignorant. 
 And, as the reader perhaps cares not to follow the elders to theii 
 
238 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 respective apartments, see Mrs. Hazey reject her pink satin for her 
 amber moire, or Hazey substitute a pair of candle-liglit kerseymeres 
 for the bran new "ISucols" that Basket had laid out for his adorn- 
 ment, we will suppose that the worthy pair have at length descended 
 into the drawing-room, where, with a well-swept hearth and a semi- 
 illumination, they patiently await the coming of the company, wonder- 
 ing whether the clocks are right, and, if so, how they will be by other 
 people's. Hope nobody will think it necessary to come late — half-past 
 six quite late enough for dinner in winter. Hark ! there's the sound 
 of wheels ! followed by a lull and a ring and a rush in the passage. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Gowleykins, of Cock-a-Eoost Hall, were the first 
 guests to arrive ; fat Gowleykins with a Gibus hat and diminutive tie, 
 Mrs. Gowleykins with a hoop that made her look like " the Great Globe 
 itself." It was with difficulty she could get herself compressed into a 
 seat, and then there was a great balance bagging over the arm. Gow- 
 leykins was a big, baldheaded, butter-like man, who straddled and 
 tried to look easy, though feeling extremely uncomfortable, and most 
 heartily wishing himself back at Cock-a-Roost Hall. He was a rich 
 man, having, as Hazey afterwards informed Mr. Romford confidentially, 
 full five thousand a year, which, eoupled with a delightful sim- 
 plicity in horsey matters, made him a most valuable ally to Hazey. 
 He didn't get less than fifty pounds a year out of the laird of Cock-a- 
 Roost Hall — fifty pounds at least, all but the couple of sovereigns or 
 so he gave the groom every Christmas to keep his master's heart soft 
 and emollient. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Cropper, of Cowleyshaw Hill, Mrs. Stirry, and Miss 
 "Winkler followed the Gowleykins, the two former having taken up the 
 latter at their residence at Oaklands Grove, greatly to the prejudice of 
 all three dresses. Cropper had growled the whole way at the unrea- 
 sonable absurdity of crinolines, devoutly wishing that they and some of 
 their inmates were at Jericho. He, too, was a moneyed man, variously 
 estimated at from two to three thousand a year; and though he didn't 
 hunt, indeed his beer-barrel-like figure almost precluded the idea, yet 
 Hazey managed to squeeze a pony out of him for the- Hard and Sharps 
 under the plea of patriotism — aiding the noble sport of hunting, which 
 Hazey always maintained it was the bounden duty of every man to do. 
 Scarcely had Cropper's thick legs carried him round the now assembled 
 circle, and brought him up safely on the hearthrug, than the door 
 opened on the voluntary principle (that is to say, without the inter- 
 vention of servants), and in rolled Mr. Romford in the full array of 
 the Larkspur Hunt — scarlet Tick, clean white vest, black kerseymeres, 
 patent leather boots with elastic sides, for which latter elegancies we 
 
MR. HAZEYS HOSPITALITY. 239 
 
 do not exactly know to whom he was indebted, but to a firm in St. 
 James's Street. 
 
 Then Mr. Hazey, acting the part of bear-leader, made up to Mr. 
 Romford, and, getting him by the arm, forthwith began wheeling and 
 circling him about, introducing him to this person and to tbat, supple- 
 menting his proclamation of names with an aside commentary upon 
 their wealth, such as " Deuced warm fellow that — has his five thousand 
 a year, if he has a halfpenny" (meaning old Cock-a-Roost) ; or " That's 
 a capital fellow, full of monej', subscribes to the hounds, and does 
 everything a man should do." But the great object of Mr. Hazey 's 
 admiration was Mr. Bonus, now of .Shaverley Place, but formerly of 
 tbe Stock Exchange, a gentleman who still retained a lively leaning 
 to his old pursuits, being always ready for a deal, in which be gene- 
 rally managed to be successful too. ""Wonderful fellow," whispered 
 Hazey to Romford, as, having affected the introduction, he led him off 
 towards the lamp as if to show him the picture of a favourite hunter 
 above — " wonderful fellow, turns everything he touches into gold. 
 Do believe he gets ten-and-a-half per cent, for every halfpenny he has. 
 Is chairman of the Half-Guinea Hat Company, one of the best soecs 
 going. Bought a cow of me that our people could make nothing of. Only 
 gave me six-pun-ten for her, and — would you believe it ? — she reared 
 him two calves and made him twenty puns' worth of butter besides." 
 
 This interesting genius was a slightly-built, middle-sized, yellow- 
 haired man, who might be almost any age from thirty to fifty. The 
 most remarkable feature about him was, a skew-bald fan beard, 
 formed of alternate tufts of yellow and white hair, just like the fringe 
 of a kettle-holder. He was a single man, and a good deal courted in 
 the country. 
 
 And now the door opened again, and in pops Mr. Daniel Dennis, 
 the stop-gap of the neighbourhood, a " rus in urbe" sort of youth, 
 little remarkable for anything save living opposite a weathercock. 
 " I live opposite a weathercock," he was always telling people out 
 hunting. "I live opposite a weathercock, and 1 saw at a glance this 
 morning that the wind was at north-east; " or, " the weathercock 
 opposite my lodging has been steady at south-west these three days, 
 and I predict we shall soon have rain." 
 
 Lucy, who understood stage effect as well as any woman, did not 
 essay to descend until several successive wheel-rolls up to the door 
 and rings of the bell led her to think the company would be about 
 assembled, though she was informed as to who was arriving through 
 the medium of Dirtiest of the Dirty, who had it from Hyacintha, 
 Mrs. Hazey' s maid. So she amused herself, during the progress of an 
 
240 mr. facey romford's hounds. 
 
 elabourate toilette, with listening to the details of the internal economy 
 of Tarring Neville, — who was mean — who was awful mean — who there 
 was no a-bearin', — and in speculating on the probable appearance of Mr. 
 and Mrs. Cropper; what Mr. Bonus would be like ; what Mrs. Gorcly- 
 kins would have on ; and whether Mr. Dennis was good-looking or 
 otherwise. At length a passage clock struck the quarter, and, after a 
 final glance in the cheval glass, Lucy took up her white -kid gloves and 
 fan, and sailed majestically out of the room, leaving Dirty to rearrange 
 her things and extinguish the six wax-lights with which the apartment 
 was illuminated. " No use in stinting oneself," thought Lucy, as she 
 quitted the blaze of light. She then made the grand descent of the 
 softly-carpeted staircase, and was presently where Basket the butler, 
 glass door-handle in hand, stood guard, as well over it as over a covey 
 of flat candlesticks on the adjoining table. 
 
 The door opened, and our magnificent prima donna sailed graciously 
 into the room, radiant with smiles, radiant with inward satisfaction, 
 and dazzling with costly jewels. Her new toilette completely threw 
 in the shade the shabby silks, satins, and velvets of the other ladies. 
 They began to wish they had been a little smarter : Mrs. Cropper, that 
 she had put on her violet ; Mrs. Beddingfield, that she had not come 
 in blue. And then they blamed the gentlemen for advising them not. 
 Meanwhile, Mrs. Somerville having made a hasty survey of the scene, 
 and satisfied herself that there was no one there to compete with 
 herself, either in the way of looks or attire, drooped her black Spanish 
 lace mantilla off her beautifully rounded shoulder, and proceeded to 
 smirk and smile and show her pearly teeth to the company : " Mrs. 
 Gowleykins, Mrs. Somerville ; Mrs. Somerville, Mrs. Beddingfield ; 
 Mrs. Cropper, Mrs. Somerville," and so forth. 
 
 Masters of hounds are generally pretty punctual, as well at their 
 meets as their meals, and Mrs. Somerville had scarcely concluded her 
 floating teeth-showing gyrations ere Basket sailed noiselessly into the 
 room and announced in a whisper to Hazey, as if imparting a profound 
 secret, that "dinner was ready." Then Hazey, who had got sidled 
 up to Mrs. Somerville, as if he were going to make an attempt on her 
 pocket, offered her his red arm, whereupon the other gentlemen began 
 pairing off with the respective ladies they had had indicated to them 
 as dinner companions : Mrs. Cock-a-Roost with old Cropper, and Mrs. 
 Cropper with Three Thousand Five Hundred a Year; Ten-and-a- 
 half-per-Cent. with Miss Winkler ; Facey ultimately brought up the 
 rear with Mrs. Hazey. By, however, one of those scientific manoeuvres 
 known only to great strategical commanders, Anna Maria's capacious 
 dress, like Cassandra Cleopatra's at Dalberry Lees, was found extending 
 
MR. HAZEYS HOSPITALITY. 241 
 
 itself half over Mr. Romford'3 chair, and this though her order of 
 going -would have indicated her place to be at the other end of tlio 
 table ; but ladies are always very obliging where there is any business 
 to be done. 
 
 Grace was then said by the worthy Rector of Slavington-cum- 
 Starvington, and forthwith soup began to circulate from each end of 
 the table. Sherry of course followed soup, and then came the fish — a 
 dish of smelts, and turbot with lobster sauce. Hock and Moselle then 
 succeeded, and the gentlemen began to feel a little more comfortable. 
 The ladies of course had dined at luncheon time, and, like Willy 
 Watkins with his hunting, now only ate for conformity. Indeed, we 
 often wonder for whom the great overpowering dinners are provided. 
 Ifwe follow a man to his club, and see what he orders, we shall find 
 that soup, fish, and meat, constitute the dinners of nine-tenths of the 
 whole. Tarts, sweets, savouries, are in little demand. But when a 
 party of men sit at one table, instead of at several tables as they do 
 at a club, there seems to be an idea that the accumulation of appetites 
 requires greater appeasing, and makes it necessary to have an infinity 
 of food. 
 
 If people find certain dishes at one end of a table, they may be 
 pretty sure what there will be at the other. Per instance, a sirloin 
 of beef is pretty 6ure to be faced by a turkey, whilst a roast leg of 
 mutton generally involves some boiled chickens at the other. Then 
 the ham, tongue, sausages, and so on, follow as a matter of course. 
 Roast beef and turkey was the order of the day at Tarring Neville, 
 for which there was a pretty equal demand; but Facey, not being 
 much of a carver, willingly relinquished the honour of assisting 
 Mrs. Hazey to Mr. Pannet, who sat on the opposite side of the table ; 
 thus enabling him to devote his attentions to Miss Hazey. But Facey 
 was prudent and calculating. Anna Maria was certainly very pretty. 
 Fine head and neck, beautiful brown hair, elegant figure; but then 
 there was that confounded "Boy Bill" and another cub or two else- 
 where. Besides, Hazey would live for ever, and Mrs. H. looked like 
 a tough : un too. Altogether he determined to take the curb of his 
 admiration up a link or two. 
 
 Some people seem to think if they get a certain muster of guests 
 together, and place a profusion of food before them, that that consti- 
 tutes society, and that they may sit staring, just as the master of a 
 union workhouse sits staring at the paupers. 
 
 Hazey was one of the silent sort, unless he was talking of buying, 
 or selling, or exchanging ; and as he could not hope to interest Mrs. 
 Somerville with a disquisition on horse dealing, or favour her with a 
 
 B. 
 
242 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 sight of his banker's pass-book, he began telling her the quality and 
 price of the various things on the table, explaining that the candles 
 were genuine wax, and the oil the finest sperm. He also drew her 
 attention to his crystal, and next told her how he got his linen direct 
 from the manufacturer in Belfast, without subjecting it to the trouble- 
 some attentions of the middleman. He was a regular bargain hunter, 
 and was so proud of his exploits, that he could not keep his own 
 counsel — even letting out that his champagne was of the cheap 
 order — a most injudicious proceeding, seeing it was sure to deteriorate 
 the flavour. If people do give cheap wine, they should keep the price 
 to themselves. 
 
 "We will not persecute the reader with a description of all the dishes 
 and delicacies that Gritty' s moderate abilities furnished, still less with 
 the hard-featured dessert that followed, the component parts whereof 
 were chiefty apples and pears, nor yet with the burthensome conver- 
 sation that accompanied the whole. It was just one of those sort of 
 dinners that those who have never seen any better would think good, 
 and those who know what dinners ought to be would think bad. Friend 
 Facey, however, got through it with much more ease than he did the 
 Dalberry Lees one, and Lucy thought it a great deal better than 
 spending the night with her old mother at Beldon Hall. And she 
 was half sorry when an ominous lull enabled Mrs. Hazey to catch 
 her eye, and with the usual gesticulation moved the adjournment o£ 
 tha le.dic-3 ; hut then she sailed out with the air of an empress. 
 
CHAPTER XLVII. 
 
 HOW TO SPELL CAT. 
 
 Of courue, on the retirement of the ladies from the dining-room, 
 there was a readjustment of seats at Mr. Hazey's festive board; and 
 our distinguished master, Mr. Romford, between whom and his 
 brother M. F. H. there had been a long interregnum of highly- 
 garnished table, now got together, Mr. Romford occupying the seat of 
 honour just vacated by Mrs. Somerville, having the yellow and white 
 fan-bearded Ten-and-a-half-per-Cent. on his right. Next Ten-and-a- 
 half came old boosey Tom Pennant, then the Rector of Slavington- 
 cum-Starvington, flanked by Daniel Dennis, and opposite sat Joe 
 Beddingfield, Gowleykins, Cropper, and others, all anxious to hear the 
 stories of our master, who looked, indeed, as though he were sur- 
 charged with them. 
 
 Basket, the butler, with his attendant aide-de-camp, having assisted 
 in the new arrangement by the distribution of chairs, glasses, and the 
 marshaling of decanters, now reduced the illumination by extinguish- 
 ing the extraneous lamps on the sideboard and elsewhere, and 
 presently withdrew, leaving our friends to fraternise through the 
 instrumentality of music, politics, literature, fox hunting, the fine 
 arts, or what not. Of course the wine had to circulate once or twice 
 before anything of a conversation could be expected, during which 
 time those who had anything to say for themselves began looking out 
 for a subject, while those who had not, prepared to act the part of 
 sand-bags, by examining and disposing of the wine. 
 
 Mr. Bonus — that is to say, Ten -and-a-half-per -Cent. — having care- 
 fully manipulated his funny fan beard, and found that every hair wag 
 right in this very peculiar half-inch fringe, now gave a slight ingra- 
 tiating tarn of his chair towards Mr. Romford ; and, after a glance at 
 his hirsute profile, as Romford sat rocking himself in one of Hazey's 
 ricketty chairs, apparently thinking of nothing, though in reality 
 scanning every thing and person in the room, Mr. Bonus ventured to 
 ask, in a very deferential tone, if Mr. Romford ever looked into the 
 Derby betting. 
 
 " Whiles," replied Facey, pulling out a sample of his beard, and 
 
 b 2 
 
24* MR. FACET ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 holding it up to the light. "Whiles," repeated he, re-establishing 
 his chair on all fours, and scrutinising Ten-and-a-half-per-Cent. atten- 
 tively. Derby betting ! thought Facey (who could spell Reindeer 
 with any of them). That looked like business ; and passing the 
 favourites quickly through his mind, together with the hets he had 
 pending, he was considering what temptation he could afford to offer 
 Mr. Bonus, when his host interfered with his wine. Hazey wanted 
 to talk about his wine ; and the prices of wine and the prices which 
 horses are at in the betting ring not harmonising, Ten-and-a-half-per- 
 Cent. was obliged to retire his subject. They, however, mutually 
 booked each other for a venture on a future occasion ; Bonus thinking 
 himself better informed than Facey, and Facey having an equally con- 
 fident opinion of himself. Now let us hearken to our host. 
 
 Hazey, who, like Bonus, was a sort of general broker — dabbled in 
 anything — and was always running ahout at sales in the summer, 
 picking up curious old port, curious old furniture, curious old anything 
 that was cheap, now took his innings with Romford. 
 
 Formerly hosts used to persecute about their port, their rich fruity 
 port, their tawny port, their bees' -wingey port, their five in wood 
 and twenty years in bottle port; hut since the Chancellor of the 
 Exchequer has opened the flood-gates of the Continent, each connoisseur 
 has his own particular wine that nobody else can acquire. Hazey had 
 several anonymous sorts, each so superior that our party soon resolved 
 itself into a tasting one. The fact was, Mr. Hazey wanted to sell his 
 brother master a batch of Burgundy for about double the price he had 
 given for it; and though Mr. Bom ford cared very little about wine, 
 having, indeed, an abundant supply of Lord Lovetin's, yet as Hazey 
 was pressing and anxious, he said he didn't care if he took ten or 
 twelve dozen, provided Hazey would deliver it for him at Beldon 
 Hall. And as Hazey could load back with coals from Splutterton 
 Colliery, he agreed to the terms ; and before Ten-and-a-half-per-Cent. 
 could get his own Derby subject renewed, Hazey was at Mr. Romford 
 again with a description of a perfect picture of a horse he had just 
 picked up — far more than up to Hazey's weight — equal to Romford's, 
 in fact — that he wouldn't mind selling, if Romford knew of any one 
 who didn't care for putting his hand pretty deep into his pocket foi 
 price. And our Master said he knew plenty of people of that sort ; he 
 himself didn't mind what he gave, so long as the animal was really 
 good ; and, altogether, he talked in a very liberal, encouraging sort of 
 way. Emboldened by this, at a later period of the evening, after he 
 had beaten about the bush a little as to their respective countries 
 and covers, Mr. Hazey asked his guest if he would mind giving up 
 
HOW TO SPELL CAT. 245 
 
 Lowfield Banks to him ; whereupon Facey, gathering himself up, 
 replied fiercely, " No ! would as soon give you an inch off my nose ! " 
 an assertion that rather startled Mr. Hazey, but still gave him a very 
 favourable impression of Mr. Romford's sporting determination. It 
 was clear he wanted sport. Hazey would have negotiated, at all 
 events, if he had been Mr. Romford ; tried to have got a horse, or a 
 hound, or something to boot. But every man to his mind, thought 
 Hazey. 
 
 And now poor Ten-and-a-half, who had been doomed to hear Mr. 
 Hazey monopolising the rich victim, taking advantage of the lull 
 caused by the slight ebullition of temper, turned again to our 1 hero, and 
 in the same bland voice as before, asked him if he ever did anything in 
 the speculative way, Ten-and-a-half having some shares in a certain 
 hotel company that he wouldn't care to be out of, and also a venture 
 in the oil wells of Austria, that were not likely to yield the necessary 
 interest ; but Hazey, quickly recovering from his back-hander, turned 
 again upon our distinguished Master, with an Italian wine — better, in 
 fact, than the Burgundy; but which, Hazey said, would require a 
 purchaser to dip his hand deeper into his pocket to procure a few 
 dozen of. Facey, however, to whom price was no object, having got a 
 c]ean glass, after a stare at its colour and an approving smack of his 
 great thick lips, said he wouldn't mind taking ten dozen of it. " Say 
 twelve," replied Hazey, who had booked him the larger quantity of 
 the former. " Twelve be it," yawned Pacey, with the utmost in- 
 difference. 
 
 It was now friend Pacey' s turn to have his innings; and, after 
 raking either side of the table with his inquisitive little pig eyes, he 
 folded his hands behind the back of his head, and, balancing himself 
 on the hind legs of his chair as before, asked, with a degage sort 
 of air, " If anybody knew anything of one Mr. Jobbins — Mr. Jonathan 
 Jobbins ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, I do," replied Hazey. " Jobbins, of Harefield. Bought 
 the worst horse of him I had ever had in my life — Plash-in-the-Pan ; 
 you remember him, Gowleykins ? " 
 
 " Indeed I do," replied Gowleykins, who had some unpleasant 
 green-pea soup reminiscences of him; said horse having run away 
 with Gowley, and soused him in a horse-pond all over green weed. 
 
 ""Well, but what about Jobbins ? " asked Hazey, anxious to run a 
 fresh scent. 
 
 "Oh, nothin' 'ticlar," replied Facey, "only had a letter from him, 
 complaining of moy hounds having killed his cat ; and how do you 
 think the ignorant beggar spelt the word ' cat ' ? " asked Pacey, now 
 
246 MR. FACEY EOMFOED'S HOUNDS. 
 
 netting himself down on all fours of his chair. There was a dead 
 Bilence, each man thinking how it would be. 
 
 " I'll bet a guinea none o' you can guess ! " exclaimed Facey. , 
 
 " I'll take your two to one," at length drawled Ten-and-a-half-per- 
 Cent. 
 
 " No — even bettin'," said Facey — " even bettin'. 
 
 " Come, I'll bet you," said Hazey, who thought he had it. 
 
 " Done," replied Romford. " How was it, now ? " 
 
 " Whj-, K-a-t," replied Hazey, spelling it. 
 
 "Nor, it wasn't ! " said Eomford, smiling. 
 
 " I'll bet you now," said Ten-and-a-half-per-Cent, who thought the 
 chances were reduced. 
 
 "Done!" replied Romford, coolly adding, "a guinea, mind! — a 
 guinea." 
 
 " A guinea," nodded Bonus. 
 
 " Well, then, how was it ? " 
 
 " Why, K-a-double t," replied Bonus. 
 
 "Nor, it wasn't," chuckled Facey. 
 
 " Double or quits ! " now exclaimed Mr. Hazey, thinking he had it 
 at last. 
 
 "Done," replied Romford, with the greatest indifference. 
 
 " C-a-double t," spelt Hazey. 
 
 " Nor, it wasn't," chuckled Romford again. 
 
 Mr. Bonus then took a long-drawn inspiration, and thinking there 
 were but two other ways, viz., K-a-tt-e and C-a-tt-e, made the same 
 double or quits offer. 
 
 " Done," said Romford, thinking he might as well exhaust the 
 subject. 
 
 " Then K-a-double t-e," spelt Bonus. 
 
 " Nor, it wasn't that either," laughed Romford. 
 
 "Come! I'll have another turn," cried Hazey, thinking to save 
 something out of the fire. 
 
 " An even guinea," said Romford. 
 
 " Done," said Hazey. " C-a-double t-e," then spelt Hazey. 
 
 " Nor, it wasn't," chuckled Romford again. 
 
 " Then how was it?" exclaimed several. 
 
 "Why, C-a-t, to be sure," replied Facey, laughing — in which 
 all but the losers joined. They were glum. 
 
 "Well, but you said he was an ignorant beggar," observed 
 Bonus. 
 
 "Well, he may be an ignorant beggar, and yet know how to spell 
 cat," replied Romford. 
 
HOW TO SPELL CAT. 247 
 
 " Ah ! but 3'ou put it as if not knowing how to spell cat constituted 
 his ignorance," rejoined Bonus. 
 
 " To be sure ! " replied Facey, " that's the way to do it." 
 
 A general chuckle then ensued. Very slowly the purses came out, 
 and very reluctantly the sovereigns were counted, the chairman of the 
 Half-guinea Hat Company absolutely offering to pay in pounds, an 
 indignity that Mr. Romford could not brook. 
 
 " Out with the shillins ! " said he, and the shillings he got. 
 Having tried all the coin on his plate, he deliberately put them into 
 his waistcoat pocket, saying, " it would do very well to pay 'pikes 
 with," and again established himself on the hind-legs of his chair as 
 before. He thought he had done a very good night's work. 
 
 Then as the circulation of the bottle became weaker and more 
 languid, and men began to twist, and turn, and writhe about in their 
 chairs, all indicative of present satiety, Basket, the butler, at length 
 put an end to the negotiations and commercial transactions of the 
 evening by appearing with a loftily borne coffee-tray, whose jingling 
 cups clattering around acted the part of the bell that rings the mer- 
 chants out of the Royal Exchange in the City of London. Up rose the 
 majority of the guests, some to the coffee, some to the water, some to 
 the sherry, some to the fingering and adjustment of their collars, their 
 variously-shaped beards, and shirt-fronts. And all being apparently 
 ready for a move, Mr. Hazey duly dissolved the meeting by making 
 for the door, and saying, " then, shall we join the ladies ?" 
 
 " "With all my heart," replied Romford, chucking his napkin osten- 
 tatiously on to the middle of the table, as if to let people see he was 
 not going to pocket it, when, without any bowings, after you-ings, or 
 any nonsense of that sort, he just stalked boldly out of the room. 
 The rest then followed as they liked. 
 
 The drawing-room had now received a great accession of light, and 
 if Mrs. Hazey's opinion of the importance of her guests might be 
 inferred from the number of candles she was burning in their honour, 
 it must have been very great. Independently of the heavy ordnance 
 — the cut-glass chandelier, there was scarcely a bracket or holder of 
 any sort without its burner. If Hazey hadn't sold the twenty 
 four dozen of wine, he would have grudged the expense amazingly 
 As it was, after counting the guests, he began calculating how much 
 the light would cost per head ; and this, too, while he was pretending 
 to keep up a running commentary with Mr. Beddingfield about his 
 damaged barley. But here we are in the radiant apartment, and must 
 devote ourselves to the ladies. 
 
 About the centre of the lady-circle, under a perfect blaze of light, 
 
248 MR, FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS 
 
 reclining gracefully on a luxurious yellow and gold ottoman, with her 
 beautiful foot resting on an elaborately worked floss-silk cushion, sat 
 our Jermyn Street friend, looking as though she had been nursed in 
 the lap of luxury, and had never known anything of debts, or duns, 
 or difficulties, now giving herself up to the enjoyment of the hour 
 without the slightest care for the future. She was about tired of the 
 ladies, indeed, she often said that the only thing that reconciled her to 
 being a woman was, that she could not by any possibility have to marry 
 one; so she slightly raised her person, and contracted her dress, as if 
 to indicate that any gentleman might come and talk to her who liked. 
 And Mr. Hazey, as in duty bound, was presently by her side, now 
 asking after her horse, now after the hounds; and now, as Mrs. Hazey, 
 in her company exertions, got out of hearing, expatiating on the 
 elegance of the jewellery that encircled her swan-like neck and 
 beautiful arms. ' 
 
 The chairman of the Half- guinea Hat Company, though somewhat 
 chagrined at his loss in the dining-room, hovered round, greatly 
 taken with ber appearance — thinking to captivate her with his yellow 
 and white beard, through which he had quietly run the pocket -comb 
 in the passage. 
 
 Next Mr. Facey Romford's great scarlet shoulders were seen con- 
 verging upon the piano, and then Miss Anna Maria's beautiful white 
 ones were seen descending towards the music stool, while Mr. Romford 
 stood over as if to let the fair one try to excel the dulcet notes of 
 the lisping *?yren at Dalberry Lees. And if Mr. Facey could be won 
 by a girl with such a "beastly brother Sam " as the boy Bill, it is 
 but due to Miss Hazey's charms to say, that she would have accom- 
 plished the victory, for he thought of her well that night, and awoke 
 still thinking of her the next morning. She quite sung herself into 
 his good graces, thus indeed showing, that " music hath charms to 
 soothe the savage breast." How he wished he had brought his flute — 
 would have given a guinea to have brought his flute — would never go 
 from home again without his flute — would like to have " 'stonished 
 these beggars with his proficiency." 
 
 And the ladies, with that fine delicate perception of business that 
 they all possess, now began to withdraw themselves and their cohorta 
 quietly, so that when Miss Hazey arose and turned round for lauda- 
 tions after her third song, she found the room greatly thinned. Then 
 Mrs. Makepiece, who owed Mrs. Hazey one for her assistance in 
 capturing young Mr. Buss well for her Sophia Jane, came gallantly 
 forward, and, seizing Miss Hazey by both hands, thanked her most 
 fervently for her beautiful music, and begged she would favour them 
 
HOW TO SrELL CAT. 249 
 
 with one more song — just om more — before she (Mrs. Makepiece) 
 wont. "Whereupon, after a little pressing, and a " come, you may as 
 well do it," from Mr. Romford, Miss turned again to the instrument, 
 and cur Master mounted guard as before. Mrs. Makepiece watching 
 and inwardly calculating that Miss would very soon be Mrs. Romford, 
 and Miss preferring to humour Mr. Romford's encore to limiting 
 herself to the one song that Mrs. Makepiece had prayed, that lady, 
 and her plain, but very amiable daughter, presently withdrew, noise- 
 lessly, leaving the chaunts in full swing ; and when Miss Hazey again 
 arose for commendation, she found the men clustered round the sherry 
 and soda-water tray, — Mrs. Pannet watching to see that Mr. Pannet 
 didn't take equal parts of whiskey and water for his nightcap. Then 
 Anna Maria, as she drew on her new white kid gloves, gave Mr. Rom- 
 ford such a loving look, when, in reply to his request for another song, 
 she said " not to-night, please," adding — sotto voce — " another time, 1 '' as 
 quite captivated the Pacey heart, and made Mrs. Somerville (who, too, 
 was on the watch) almost wish she hadn't come. Cassandra Cleopatra 
 was extinguished for that night at least, thus showing that ladies are 
 not always wrong in hoping against hope — in never giving up a man 
 short of the church door. 
 
 And the last Rose of Summer — to wit, poor Ten-and-a-half-per-Cent. 
 — having at length taken his departure, there was a general winding-up 
 of watches, fearing it was late, and talking of breakfasts the next 
 morning, Hazey being now anxious to get all parties away to bed, 
 seeing that the extensive illumination they were then indulging in 
 could not be kept up at less than twelve or fourteen shillings an hour. 
 So Mr. Hazey, after two or three ineffectual movements, at length 
 observed, that perhaps Mrs. Somerville would like to go to bed, to 
 which our fair friend assenting, as indeed she could not well do other- 
 wise, there was a brisk lighting of candles, and good-nigh ting, and 
 our fair tragedy queen sailed off under convoy of Mrs. Hazey, arriving 
 in her bedroom just as Miss Dirty finished her tour of the bedrooms, 
 helping herself to a light blue smelling-bottle from Anna Maria's 
 toilette table, an emerald ring from Mamma's, and a pair of shirt 
 sleeve links from the boy Bill's. . 
 
 She then helped her mistress to undress and get into bed, retailing 
 to her all the gossip and history of the lower regions of the house as 
 she proceeded. And as one state bedroom is very much like another 
 state bedroom, and one night passed in a country-house is very much 
 like another, in the interests of the chase we will leave the Tarring 
 Neville one to the imagination of the reader, and proceed to describe 
 Mr. Romford's day with the Hard and Sharp hounds. 
 
CHAPTER XLVIII. 
 
 THE HARD AND SHARP HOUNDS. 
 
 Mr. Hazey being, as we said before, duly impressed with Mr. 
 Romford's importance, not only as a sportsman but a man of great 
 social position, had marshaled his forces with an eye to general effect. 
 Jawkins the huntsman, and Peter the whip, commonly called Peter 
 Simple, were charged to put on clean ties and polish their boots to the 
 utmost extremity, while Silkey the groom was cajoled into doing his 
 best with the horses by the promise of an excursion to Kittlefield fair 
 on the Monday. The hounds, too, were most carefully drawn — drawn 
 as well with an eye to pace and endurance as to the more obvious 
 qualities of colour and size. . There is no master of hounds, however 
 insignificant, who does not think he can astonish his friends with his 
 powers, or with something about his establishment. 
 
 Jawkins was well named, for he was a bustling, noisy, shallow, 
 show-off little fellow, continually holloaing and blowing his horn. As 
 he never went to see any other pack of hounds but his own, he was 
 perfectly satisfied with the Hard and Sharps, and had no doubt Facey 
 would be equally pleased with them. If he, Facey, wasn't, he'd be 
 no great judge, Jawkins thought. He was a good hand at puffing and 
 selling hounds, and was in fact the Silkey of the kennel. Peter's 
 nickname of Simple describes him. He was a silly fellow, a man that 
 might be made to do almost anything. 
 
 What with Jawkins in a fuss and Peter in a flurry, a fox had an 
 uncommonly good chance of escape. Peter had passed from place to 
 place with great rapidity, sometimes getting through half a season, 
 sometimes through a whole one, but never through two, till he came 
 to friend Hazey. Still Peter was a smartish young fellow, and, like 
 the gentleman who sat a horse with firmness, ease and grace until the 
 horse began to move, Peter's deficiencies were not apparent until the 
 hounds began to hunt. Hazey, however, had him at his own price, 
 and Peter was not only willing to make himself generally useful during 
 the week, but also to go, too, for the letters and papers on a Sunday. 
 
 But here they come — hounds, horses, and all ; Jawkins on Catch-'em- 
 alive-0 ; Peter on Robin Adair, with Silkey riding Valentine for hia 
 
THE HARD AND SHARP HOUNDS. 251 
 
 much respected master. They trot gaily over the greensward, pass 
 down the dip in the park to the well, and, making a bold sweep round 
 the now leafless birches, come smartly up to the front with the air of 
 the Inns of Court Volunteers. Here they halt for admiration ; and 
 now the inmates of the house, having duly satisfied nature, rise from 
 the debris of breakfast and make for the windows, while the butler 
 and footman come into the room to re-arrange matters for any chance 
 comers. Mrs. Hazey and Anna Maria alone maintain their positions 
 at the table — Mrs. still presiding at the handsome melon-patterned 
 tea service, while Miss takes charge of the coifee. 
 
 And now the door bell begins to twitch and tingle and ring, accord- 
 ing to the status and nerves of the party pulling the brass knob — Ten- 
 and-a-half -per-Cent. making the house resound with his summons, 
 while little Mr. Sheepshanks scarcely makes himself heard. In the 
 guests come straddling and clanking their spurs, and frizzing up their 
 side hair, all thinking themselves uncommonly killing. Then, after 
 bobs and bows and shakes of the hand are exchanged with Mrs. Hazey 
 and Miss, the new comers apply themselves vigorously to the viands, 
 and the process of deglutition is again in full force. And the cry i3 
 still, They come, they come ! till Gritty the cook almost begins to fear 
 for a famine. But as the kitchen-maid butters her last batch of hot 
 rolls there is a sudden lull, neither entrance nor breakfast room bell 
 re-sound. The run is over, and Gritty retires to the cupboard to recruit 
 with a glass of " Matchless Old Tom Gin." 
 
 And now, after certain mysterious looks and nudges, something is 
 said about the " weed," and forthwith the return match of hand- 
 shaking and grinning is played, and after a scramble for hats, caps, 
 and whips in the passage, a certain sound then indicates and a scratch- 
 ing noise announces fire, and, the front door being hurriedly opened, 
 a group of aspiring youths rush out and range themselves under the 
 Italian-columned portico of the house for an inaugural smoke. Here 
 they are presently joined by others, who have also beat a retreat, until 
 the steps are as crowded as those of the "Rag" on a Derby night. 
 And they whiff and puff and smoke and blow a great variety of 
 curiously-shaped clouds. At length the pent-up torrent of humanity 
 is burst by Mr. Hazey appearing with his distinguished guest, Mrs. 
 Somerville, on his arm, followed by Romford with rather a formidable 
 looking whip under his. The crowd then start and distribute them- 
 selves, some going up to the garden, some along the holly walk, others 
 going down to stare the hounds out of countenance. And Facey, 
 thinking to see their performance in the field, follows smoking suit, 
 with his old briar-root pipe, and wanders away to the stables. Hazey 
 
2o2 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 then lionises Lucy : shows her his ducks, points out Spieeington spire 
 on the hill, and Lord Dundreary's seat in the distance. Meanwhile 
 the equestrian plot thickens. The heavy subscribers, men entitled to 
 be late, come cantering up, whom Hazey greets with a fervor appor- 
 tioned to the price and punctuality of their payments. And now an 
 exclamation is heard of 
 
 " There ! there's my boy Bill!" from Hazey, pointing out his son 
 turning on to the lawn on a good-looking grey — " There ! there's my 
 boy Bill ! Show me the man who turns his son out better than I 
 turn out my boy Bill ! " Then, taking young Mr. Heslop aside, he 
 whispered in his ear, " That's a horse that would suit you now — safest, 
 most temperate animal I ever was on ; and cheap, too," added he in a 
 still lower key, with a squeeze of Heslop's arm. 
 
 ""Well, but what do you call cheap?" asked Heslop, who knew 
 that it was a term of various interpretation. 
 
 "Well," said Hazey, scrutinising his victim attentively — "well, 
 I'll tell you in two words — I'll tell you in two words — but first let 
 me say that it's no use offering me less than I ask. I want eighty 
 guineas for him, and I won't even take punds." 
 
 Hazey had given eight- and-twenty for him about three weeks 
 before, and had spent an hour in vainly endeavouring to get the seller 
 to give him a sovereign back. 
 
 " Hem," mused Mr. Heslop, who wanted a horse for ahout the price 
 Hazey had given. "Hem, I'll see how he goes." 
 
 " Do," rejoined Hazey, and he took an early opportunity of telling 
 his boy Bill to keep near Mr. Heslop, and show off his horse to the 
 best advantage, keeping clear of water, of which the beast was rather 
 shy. 
 
 But here comes Lucy on Leotard, accompanied by brother Romford 
 on that magnificent good-for-nothing weight-carrier Everlasting, 
 closely followed by the curious yellow and white fan-bearded gentle- 
 man, Mr. Bonus, alias Ten-and-a-half-per-Cent., on a very inferior 
 looking shrimp of an animal. Ten-and-a-half is much struck with 
 Lucy, and does not think the less of her for having two thousand a 
 year. "Would make it into four, if he had her, in no time. He doesn't 
 know whether Mrs. Somerville looks best in a morning or an evening 
 costume. The habit is very becoming to her, hut then how elegant 
 looking she was in full dress overnight. There were plenty of other 
 gentlemen equally enamoured, but Eacey kept a watchful eye on the 
 whole, looking as if he was ready either to kick or strike. 
 
 Hazey, on his part, is much struck with Everlasting's magnificent 
 appearance; ahove all with his fine arch neck, telling how lightly ho 
 
•i'HE HARD AND SHARP HOUNDS. 253 
 
 svould play with the bit and bend to the bridle. Hazey had noticed 
 the gag in the Baker's mouth on the bag fox day, and guessed what 
 his peculiarity was. Here, however, there seemed to be no mistake • 
 light free action, undeniable shape, fine shoulders, beautiful head, full 
 ■)f intelligence, — altogether as fine an animal as ever he set eyes on.. 
 And Hazey felt flattered at Mr. Romford bringing such a horse into 
 his hunt — evidently one of his best — and showing that he thought the 
 Hard and Sharp hounds required some catching. 
 
 And now, time being up, and a quarter of an hour's law being given 
 to boot — for Hazey was always in a greater hurry to leave off than he 
 was to begin — all parties having at length got together, the cavalcade 
 moved off in a cluster, hounds first, Hazey next, supported on either 
 side by Lucy and Facey. Great were the hopes of the Hard and 
 Sharpites that they would astonish our Master. If they only had a 
 chance, they thought, they could not fail to do so. Mr. Romford's 
 might be good hounds, but theirs, they were quite sure, were better. 
 In fact, nothing could be better than theirs. Then they criticised and 
 made their commentaries on Lucy. Deuced handsome woman she was 
 — best turned-out woman they had ever seen. Most perfect model of 
 a lady's horse she was on. Then there were inquiries as to whether 
 she rode, so that they might not be cut down by her. But this ques- 
 tion could not be answered. Bonus, however, believed so. 
 
 Hazey, in a general way, was never in a great hurry about finding, 
 preferring one run a day to two, as indeed did most of his field ; but 
 on this occasion he stretched a point, and stopped a greater extent of 
 country than usual, right up to Hawkworth Hills indeed. So, after 
 making two or three insignificant places safe, as he called it, he gave 
 the word for Rockwoodside ; and forthwith the bump of earnestness 
 began to develop itself in the increased bobbing of the caps and the 
 extra w r orking of the elbows and legs of Jawkins and Co. in advance 
 with the hounds. Then the field got their horses short by the head ; 
 the steady old hunters bobbing on at their ease, the fractious ones 
 pulling and fretting in a very disagreeable way to their riders. 
 
 So the gay cavalcade passed along Narrow Lane, round Grindstone 
 Quarry Hill, and through the Scotch fir clump at Cornbrook, to avoid 
 the great staring toll-bar at Latchford Law. Hazey never disturbed 
 a 'pikeman, if he could help it. 
 
 Fortune generally favours a master of hounds anxious to show sport. 
 She is more considerate to thein than she is to the " racing gents," 
 who are frequently drenched with rain and other unpleasantnesses. 
 JS"ot that rain can do foxhunters any harm ; but fortune is generally 
 propitious to them in other things, — good fox, good scent, good 
 
254 MR. FACEY ROMFORD'S HOUNDS. 
 
 country, good find, good finish ; all the " goods " the gods can provide, 
 in fact. The sport is generally either very good or very bad. 
 
 And now the subsiding caps in front denote the approach to the 
 cover, and the words, "Here we are!" presently passes along the 
 line. Jawkins next pulls up, and Peter Simple presents a broadside to 
 the field, to keep them off the valuable hounds. " "War horse, Kachel !" 
 <r.ries he, taking a left-handed cut at the delinquent. ' ' Have a care 
 there, Prosperous ! " hitting him, as had missed the other. 
 
 The cover was a beautifully retired one, — just the sort of place in 
 which a peace-loving fox might be expected to dwell, being an angular 
 five-acre wood, lying in a dell at the junction of three grassy hills. 
 Whichever way a fox broke, he was sure to be viewed by the whole of 
 the field, — a great encouragement to those who, perchance, might not 
 see him at any other time. 
 
 And now being all ready for the fray, Lucy, Facey, field, and all, 
 Mr. Hazey gives a nod to Jawkins, who gives another to his hounds, 
 and away they dash into cover, as if each one knew the whereabouts 
 of the fox and meant to have him by the neck in no time. Hazey' s 
 hounds were always very keen at the beginning, but their ardour very 
 soon cooled. 
 
 " Yoichs, ivind him ! " cheers Jawkins, as much to show he is hunts- 
 man as anything else, while Peter Simple cuts away to a corner up 
 which Reynard sometimes slips unperceived. And scarcely has Peter 
 got there ere a very cool, collected, ruddy-coated gentleman, head in 
 air, with brush extended, comes trotting up the ride below, looking 
 as if he didn't exactly know whether the noise he heard proceeded 
 from the hounds or from some hawbuck exercising his lungs. But 
 the sight of Simple's sapient countenance satisfying Peynard on that 
 point, he gave his well-tagged brush a sort of defiant whisk in the air, 
 as much as to say, " Now, old stupid, what are you staring at ? Why 
 ain't you lookin' arter the cows ? " 
 
 " Talli-ho ! " now screams the excited Simple, in a way that would 
 infallibly have headed a pusillanimous fox, but this gentleman being 
 one of the hying sort, and having, moreover, no great opinion of 
 Jawkin's abilities, merely increases his speed, and, passing up the 
 gorge between the hills, makes his way into the open. " Gone away ! 
 gone away ! " screamed the half- frantic Peter, and then what screams, 
 and whoops, and yells, and shrieks resound from the far end of the 
 cover, bow the pullers begin to get the bits in their mouths, and the 
 rankers to look out for their leaders. " Which way! which way ! " ia 
 the cry. "Where's Smith? where's Snooks? where's Noakes? 
 viere's Tomkins ? " 
 
THE HARD AND SHARP HOUNDS. 255 
 
 Meanwhile the hounds, having got a capital start, shot well ahead, 
 making the possibility of beiug overridden or even pressed upon 
 quite extinct, for the scent is first-rate, and the country most favour- 
 able. So they race, and fling, and press, and snatch the scent as 
 if one had as good a right to it as another. It was just the sort 
 of day to make a third-rate pack look like a first-rate one — Hazey 
 saw that, and so did Facey, though cunning Hazey pretended to 
 deprecate the scent, holloaing to the hounds to get " for'ard," as if thei 
 were not doing their best as it was. 
 
 Mr. Facey Romford, who thought to do the grand and consequen- 
 tial — the General McMurdo of the review — found it necessaiy to 
 put along rather faster than he expected, so getting his horse firmly 
 by the head, he established himself in his seat, and hustled along as 
 if he was out with his own pack. Lucy, too, scuttled along, closely 
 followed by Hazey, the latter now looking alternately at her and her 
 horse. He thought he never saw a neater couple. And though he 
 had no intention of unduly risking his neck — seeing he kept Jawkins 
 to do the dangerous — still he followed in her wake, not liking, in the 
 first place, to be beaten by a lady, and thinking, in the second place, 
 to see how she and her horse performed. He was all for appraising 
 an animal, whether it was for sale or not. It kept his hand in. 
 Besides, there is no saying what may happen. But the pace was too 
 good for much observation, indeed, when our prudent master came to 
 the third fence — a rough boundary hedge, with the usual briary 
 entanglements, over which Mrs. Somerville hopped without disturbing 
 a twig, he began to wish he had not committed himself to the specu- 
 lation of following her. "What matter did it make to him how she rode. 
 Confound the tzgly place, he should like to turn away. " Come up ! " 
 exclaimed he to his horse, in the sort of half-resolute way that indi- 
 cated a shirk, and Yalentine, taking him at his intention, swerved to 
 the left, while Ten-and-a-half-per-Cent. took it in his stride. Hazey 
 then seeing old Mr. Gallinger going as if for a gate, followed suit, and 
 was presently enjoying the perspective of more gates in the distance, 
 with the majority of the field cramming away on his right. Up and 
 down, up and down they went, — now a coat, now a cap, now Mxb. 
 Somerville's hat and habit. The hounds were a long way ahead, 
 pressing up the gently rising ground of Cowslip Grange, then through 
 the fir plantations of Fawley, without dwelling a moment, and on- 
 wards, still pointing due north up the sloping side of Bullersgreen, 
 and over the brook at Bavensdowne stone-pits. Here a most accept- 
 able check ensued, for Everlasting had been gently intimating to 
 Romford that the rising ground did not agree with him, and Facey 
 
256 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 did not wish the information to go any further. So he turned his 
 horse's head to the air, and sat motionless, thankful that Jawkins 
 had to make the cast and not him. Everlasting had taken his fences 
 very well, and being a horse of enormous stride had kept Eomford 
 in a becoming place. Leotard, too, had gone well, and had left old 
 Ten-and-a-half-per-Cent. immeasurably in the lurch. The roadsters, 
 and shirkers, and craners now seeing a pause, pushed on in hopes of 
 getting another chance nf being again left behind. 
 
 Jawkins, nothing daunted by having the eyes of England upon him, 
 now lays hold of his hounds, and, assisted by Peter Simple, proceeds to 
 make a cast that he thinks will greatly edify Mr. Eomford — give him 
 something to talk about when he gets back into Doubleimupshire. 
 And as fortune sometimes favours even the foolish, and there is no 
 very impeding fence in the way to make Jawkins think the fox has 
 taken an easier line, he presently hits him off at a cattle gap, and 
 away the hounds go with a screech. 
 
 "Beautiful! beautiful!" ejaculates Hazey, adding, "I hope Mr 
 Eomford saw that." 
 
 Then they all fell into place, Hazey leading (so long as there is no 
 leaping) ; Facey and Lucy a little to his right, with the boy Bill on 
 the eighty-guinea grey behind them. Bill has handled the horse so 
 neatly and well, that Heslop is half inclined to bid sixty for him. 
 And now they are all at it as before, jumping and spurting and 
 shirking ; red coats and green coats and black coats ; white boots, hot 
 boots, brown boots and black boots. The line is more favourable to 
 the grand horse Everlasting, being slightly on the slope, and Eacey 
 puts him along without fear of a failure. It was only up the steep 
 that he showed his infirmity, and degenerated into a shut-up. But 
 Facey did not keep horses to look at; and if they could not go with 
 the hounds, they could go back to the place from whence they came. 
 So he just stuck his spurs into Neverlasting, as he called the horse, 
 and sent him along in the independent sort of way of a huntsman 
 who is not hunting the hounds — acting the gentleman, as puor Sir 
 Eichard Sutton used to say on those occasions. Meanwhile Jawkins, who 
 is greatly pleased with his own performances, cheers and hurries on 
 his hounds, hoping the lady will tip him a sovereign if he gets her the 
 brush. " Dash it ! what a grand thing it would be if she gave him a 
 sovereign," thought he, holloaing the hounds on. He would buy 
 Mrs. J. a twelve-and-ninepenny bonnet that should quite cut out 
 Mrs. Silkey's " For-rard on 1 for-rard on I hounds," cries he to the 
 racing pack. "What business had Mrs. Silkey to give herself the 
 hairs she did ? A huntsman's wife was far afore a gram's in point 
 
THE HARD AND SHARP HOUNDS. 257 
 
 o' greatness. Hark to Columbine ! hark ! that's the way on 'im ! " 
 shouted he, as Mercury now pushed to the front. "A grum was a mere 
 under-strapper to a huntsman, — had to bring him his 'oss, and take 
 away his 'oss, and clean him his 'oss, and clip him his 'oss, if he 
 required to have him clipped. Silkey be singed ! Mrs. S. too— 
 Hupstart 'ussy ! " 
 
 And now, what with pressing and cheering, and thinking of the 
 bonnet, aided by stain of a flock of sheep on a piece of a very water- 
 logged land, Jawkins managed to get his hounds right beyond the 
 scent, and the flush of the former successful cast onwards being still 
 full upon him, he holds them on till they are quite clear of the line. 
 The fox has turned short to the left to avoid a conference with the 
 driver of a coming coal-cart. " On, on, on!" however, cheered 
 Jawkins, waving them forward with his arm, still thinking of the 
 bonnet, the hairs, and the consequence. " Who the deuce was a 
 grum's wife ? " muttered he. 
 
 "Hold hard!" now cries Mr. Hazey, holding up his hand, seeing 
 the fast-expiring energies of the pack. "Hold hard!" repeats he, 
 fearing for the finish. 
 
 " 'Old hard ! " shouts Bill, who has been nursing the grey along 
 very judiciously. And hold hard it is generally. 
 
 Meanwhile Mr. Romford, who is very long-sighted, has viewed the 
 fox stealing quietly along among the straggling gorse bushes on the 
 rising ground some distance to the left ; but it being no part of hia 
 duty to assist the operations of a rival pack, nor yet to test the en- 
 during qualities of the grand horse Everlasting, he keeps his own 
 counsel, and lets Jawkins persist in his mistaken cast forward, which 
 ends, as Eacey foresaw, in hopeless and unbroken dlence. Jawkins 
 then gives them a wide swing to the right, and ultimately by a back 
 cast crosses the line of the fox at the base of the hill along which Mr. 
 Eacey had viewed him. Then great was the applause of the admiring 
 field at the skill of the huntsman, and the stanchness of the pack. 
 " Best hounds in England," they said. And they all got their horses 
 by the head in anticipation of a stinger. But the goddess Diana said 
 "no." Moreover she whispered to Hazey, " You call the four miles 
 you have come, seven, and let Mr. Romford and his sister depart in 
 peace. They'll run you down, whatever you do, so you may just as 
 well close as you are." And in pursuance of that decree, the scent 
 became weaker and more languid. Indeed, only two or three of the 
 old stagers could own it at all, the rest of the pack being obliged to 
 take it on trust. And though Jawkins cheered them, as if his noise 
 would assist their endeavours, yet it was obvious to every one that 
 
258 MB. FACEY BOMFOBD S HOUNDS. 
 
 unless the fox despised them sufficiently to await their coming up, 
 they would never overtake him. Mr. Romford and sister Somerville, 
 therefore, dropped their reins on their horses' necks preparatory to a 
 stop. Our Master had taken his bearings from " Ten-and-a-half," and 
 found he was going from home instead of towards it. Had the fox 
 being travelling " t'other way," there is no saying but Tacey might 
 have holloaed them on to him, even though they were driving him into 
 his country, where he might find him another day. Here, however, 
 there was no inducement to stay, Facey having, as he said, appraised 
 the establishment to ninepence, and wouldn't know them better if he 
 stayed there a month. 
 
 So Lucy and he quietly withdrew to the rear of the field, and as 
 Hazey now pressed on to contribute his quota of science to the hunts- 
 man, telling him which way he thought the fox was gone, they availed 
 themselves of an intervening plantation to retire altogether, mutually 
 agreeing they had had enough of old Hazey, and the Hard and Sharp 
 hounds. 
 
 They then struck across country in search of their way home. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 THE FAT BOY OF PICKERING NOOK. 
 
 The news of Mr. Romford's expedition to Tarring Neville wsofl 
 reached Dalberry Lees, and caused a profound sensation in that 
 quarter. Both Mrs. Watkins and Miss looked upon it with grave 
 suspicion, for though they did not admit Miss Hazey's beauty — indeed, 
 thought at times she was rather plain — yet they both confessed her 
 dangerous powers of coquetry, and dreaded lest she might have ensnared 
 the innocent Mr. Romford in her wiles. If Mrs. AVatkins had only 
 known he had been going, she would have given him a hint as to Miss 
 Anna Maria's propensities — she was a regular flirt, and nothing else. 
 
 JNow the only thing they could do was to endeavour to eradicate the 
 mischief. Doubtless Mr. Hazey's hounds had been a source of great 
 attraction ; but, then, they could not hope to get Mr. "Watkins to set 
 up a pack to counteract the impression they might have made. It was 
 a pity that fox-hunters hung so together. And then the recollection 
 of the non-arrival of the 'bag-fox occurred, and Mrs. Watkins wished 
 that might not have something to do with it, — if so, Mrs. Carstangs 
 
THE FAT BOY OF PICKERING NOOK. 259 
 
 had a great deal to answer for. However, the 'Watkinscs had the 
 advantage of propinquity; and, rich as Mr. Romford was, he might 
 not be insensible to the advantages of an heiress — one, too, without 
 any brothers, who were always great bores. And Mrs. "Watkins con- 
 sideied long and anxiously how to reinstate themselves in the sporting 
 graces of the great master of Beldon Hall. At length she hit upon an 
 idea, which, if not quite orthodox, was, at all events, well calculated 
 to mislead a lady. And, for the purpose of fully explaining matters, 
 we must here indulge in a little geography. 
 
 If the reader will take a map of England — a Bradshaw, for 
 instance — and cast his eye up to where Doubleimupshire shoulders 
 Snorembor em shire in friendly familiarity, he will perceive a confluence 
 of railways converging upon a dot denoting the once elegant and 
 retired little town of Pickering Nook. 
 
 Before the introduction of steam, Pickering Nook was one of the 
 quietest little places in the kingdom : one doctor, no lawyer, two 
 milliners, and an occasional pedler with the latest London fashions. 
 The inhabitants were chiefly elderly ladies and people who loved 
 retirement and the musical note of the nightingale. Now it is hiss, 
 screech, whistle — hiss, screech, whistle — morning, noon, and night. 
 Five railways run right into the very heart of the little town, severing 
 it like a starfish. It has become a perfect ant-hill of industrious 
 locomotion. People seem to go to Pickering Nook in order to pass to 
 every other place. 
 
 Nook ! Nook ! Nook ! "Who doesn't know the familiar cry ? Picker- 
 ing Nook is only its name upon paper. It is never called anything but 
 Nook by the porters. 
 
 When the first bisecting line cut right through the town, severing 
 old Mr. Mellowfield's garden, it was said that the place was ruined for 
 ever : no one could live there after. 
 
 Mr. Mellowfield, who had retired from the troubles of fish-curing to 
 enjoy his filberts and Madeira in the evening of life, was so shocked at 
 the invasion of his privacy, that he nearly choked himself with anger 
 as he waddled about with a plan of the premises, detailing his grievance 
 to everybody that would listen to him : and nothing but a strong 
 application of golden ointment could have got over the difficulty. Ten 
 thousand pounds for two thousand pounds' worth of property mollified 
 him. 
 
 The next line of railway had fewer opponents ; the third one, less ; 
 and so on in a diminishing ratio. But the extraordinary part of the 
 thing was, that what at first was looked upon as an intolerable 
 nuisance by the natives, was presently regarded ae iu absolute ad van- 
 
 $2 
 
260 me. facet romford's hounds. 
 
 tage by a stranger, an affluent young gentleman, much troubled with 
 obesity, which none of the ordinary remedies could reduce. In vain he 
 tried walking, and riding, and rowing, and swimming, and cricketing, 
 and Turkish bathing, — he never could get himself below eighteen 
 stone and a-half. Fox-bunting he didn't like, because of the wait and 
 uncertainty ; hare-hunting had the same objection — he got chilled 
 between the heats, and, moreover, disliked the monotony of road 
 riding. Starving was very much at variance with his inclination, and 
 even by living upon fish, or biscuits and grapes, he seldom got more 
 than half a stone off his weight — nothing to a man who had turned 
 twenty. He didn't like it : he was afraid he should get too fat. Not 
 that he was too fat, then ; but he was afraid of becoming so. It is a 
 comfortable circumstance that people never do fancy themselves too 
 fat : they are sometimes afraid of becoming too fat, but they are never 
 too fat at the time — just the right size, in fact ; only hope they will be 
 able to keep as they are. 
 
 This stranger was young Mr. Stotfold, of — we don't exactly know 
 where — a gentleman who was commonly called Squeakey Stotfold, 
 from his having a most disproportionate voice to his body. It was 
 more like the shrill note of our friend Punch, when plying for patron- 
 age, than the natural voice of a human being ; and the sound of it 
 always made people start and turn round, short round, to see what was 
 coming. "Well, young Stotfold being very fond of his food, was afraid 
 that he might ultimately get too fat ; and at length his medical adviser, 
 Mr. Slopperton, hit upon a plan that should procure him the exercise 
 of hunting without its drawbacks and disadvantages. He proposed 
 that his patient should set up a pack of stag-hounds, and hunt from 
 railway stations : nothing to do but load and enlarge his stag wherever 
 he liked. No asking leave, no paying damage, no propitiating farmers, 
 no preparation — no nothing, but just do what he liked. If one place 
 got too hot to hold him, he had nothing to do but pack up his traps and 
 away to another - And, glancing at the map — as we requested the 
 reader to do — the convergence of lines upon Pickering Nook pointed 
 it out as one of the most eligible spots for that sort of pursuit in the 
 kingdom. From it Mr. Stotfold could shoot out north, south, east, 
 and west — up into Snoremboremshire, down into Doubleimupshire, out 
 on either side, with plenty of stations, and a great variety of country. 
 Nothing to do but look at his Bradshaw. Hunt at any hour of the 
 day : express train, mixed train, slow train, goods train — they were 
 going at all times of the day. And old Mr. Mellowfield's house, close 
 to the station, being vacant, Mr. Stotfold installed himself in it, with a 
 most miscellaneous kennel of hounds, and some of the strongest. 
 
THE FAT BOY OF PICKERING NOOK. £61 
 
 roughest-going horses in the kingdom. There was nothing too rough - 
 actioned for Stotfold to ride : the more he humped, the more exercise 
 he got, the more he could eat — and eating was the object, not hunting; 
 he hunted to eat, in fact. 
 
 Many travellers, we dare say, have seen our friend lounging ahout 
 the station at Pickering Nook, or smoking his cigar on the triumphal 
 arch that connects the up lines with the down, looking as though he 
 were lord of all he surveyed, and as if everybody who saw him must 
 admire him. He dressed in the brightest, gaudiest colours : pea-green 
 coat, with canary-coloured vest, sensation ties, Garibaldi shirts, 
 leathers and tops. He was always attracting attention by ventrilo- 
 quising the guards and railway-porters, as it were, with his extra- 
 ordinary voice. All his non-hunting days were spent at the station, 
 in chaffing the attendants, and flirting with the pretty gilds in the 
 refreshment rooms. 
 
 At the time of our story he was just turned five-and-twenty, though 
 he did not look so much, having a fine light, cauliflower -like head of 
 hair, shading a plump, blue-eyed, pink -and- white, round face, that 
 would have looked more at home under a bonnet than a hat. "Whiskers 
 he had none, and very apocryphal moustache, with which, however, 
 he took considerable pains, — frequently feeling if it was all there, and 
 trying to coax it into a ram's-horn-like curl at the corners. 
 
 He had been at the "Nook" since the beginning of the season, 
 hunting and trespassing wherever he liked — procuring himself a 
 certain amount of ill-will from the farmers and people, i^ore on 
 account of the unmannerly conduct of some of his stags, tnan the 
 mere hunting proceeding. One stag in particular, called the Benicia 
 Boy, had been very unruly, having upset a clothes-basketfull of 
 children out airing in Beislip Green Road, knocked an old milkman 
 over with his cans, and starred the lofty mirror in Mrs. Sarcenet's 
 millinery shop in Shelvington with his great unprincipled head. 
 Still, a stag-hunt being a novelty, many people asked the fat boy to 
 their places ; while the fact of his being a bachelor did not lessen his 
 attractions. 
 
 "With a lady like Mrs. "Watkins, who knew no better than proclaim 
 that her husband only hunted for conformity, and who thought to 
 ingratiate herself with such a sportsman as our hero by sending for a 
 bag-fox from town, it may readily be supposed that the fat boy's 
 establishment would be very deceptive ; and it now occurred to her 
 anxious mind, that if she could get Mr. Stotfold to come to Dalberry 
 Lees with his stag-hounds, they would not only retrieve the former 
 disappointment, but also ingratiate themselves very considerably with 
 
262 mr. facey romford's hounds. 
 
 Mr. Romford. She thought a stag -hunt would be the very thing to 
 tempt him with ; make such a nice change from the fox-hounds ; and 
 the more she thought of it, the better she liked it. And, without 
 consulting friend Willy, she determined to carry out the idea. 
 
 Migratory masters not being very ceremonious, though none of 
 them had ever seen the fat boy, yet Cassandra Cleopatra " Dear Sir'd " 
 him on behalf of her father, inviting him to dine and stay all night at 
 Dalberry Lees, and turn his stag out on the lawn the next day. 
 
 The invitation came opportunely, for somehow Squeakey, who was 
 not often asked twice to the same place, was beginning to feel the 
 want of society other than the Nook afforded, and he gladly instructed 
 Tomkins, the station master — to whom (not being a good speller him- 
 self) he gave £5 for conducting his correspondence — to accept the 
 invitation on behalf of himself, his stag, and his hounds. 
 
 And, having thus laid the foundation of another "uproar," Miss 
 Cassandra, was presently at her desk again, on behalf of mamma, 
 inviting her " Dear Mr. Romford " to come to meet a brother master of 
 hounds ; saying it wasn't Mr. Hazey, but not telling him who it was. 
 And Romford, albeit very wary, and not at all anxious to meet any of 
 the masters of hounds whose kennels he had laid under contribution 
 for hounds, considered, on reflection, that none of them would be likely 
 to visit such a muff as old "Willy ; and Anna Maria's charms having 
 now somewhat paled before the effulgent light of Cassandra Cleopatra's 
 ducats, he, too, accepted the invitation, and so made the Dalberry Lsea 
 ladies supremely happy. 
 
CHAPTER L. 
 
 JtH,. stotfold's establishment. 
 
 Taking it in a galloping point of view, there is no doubt that the 
 stag-hunter has a decided advantage over his brethren of the chase, 
 whether fox-hunters or thistle- whippers, in always being sure of his 
 game. He is like a man with his dinner in his pocket, sure of a feed 
 wherever he is. Whether the stag-hunter's game will run or not, is 
 another question ; but the same may be said of the fox and the hare. 
 Still, the stag-hunter never has a blank day ; he is sure of seeing the 
 animal descend, at all events, and if he won't condescend to run, the 
 true sportsman has the same privilege that the costermonger had with 
 his donkey " vot vouldn't go" — namely, the right of "larruping 
 him." To the fair sex the stag is truly invaluable ; and we should 
 think the ladies would poll twenty to one in favour of the stag over 
 the fox. They see the actual animal that has to be hunted, instead of 
 having to draw upon their imaginations for the idea. Then, look at the 
 independence of the thing. While the fox-hunter's anxieties continue 
 all the year round, aggravated by perfidious keepers, faithless friends, 
 and are never more acute than on the particular morning of the meet, 
 the stag-hunter turns about in his bed with the easy indifference of the 
 sluggard, conscious that he, at all events, will be all right, and can lay 
 his hand on his game on the instant. No trappers, no shooters, no un- 
 punctual earth-stoppers, disturb the calm serenity of his repose. He is 
 not afraid of the foot people molesting the cover, or of lazy sportsmen 
 stopping short by its side. The hare-hunter may go flop, flop, flopping 
 about the country, peering into all the bushes and tufts he comes near, 
 without finding what he wants ; but the stag-hunter has his proud 
 beast under lock and key, and has only to shoot the bolt, give him a 
 kick, and set him a-going. 
 
 Then there is something fine, wild, and romantic in the idea of stag- 
 hunting, heightened by the pictures one sees of the performance, --the 
 forest glade, the boundless moor, the impassable-looking ravines, the 
 glassy lake, the horns, the hounds, the hubbub. It is the happy con ■ 
 fusion of fiction with fact, the blending of the glories of the past with 
 the tameness of the present, that tends to keep the flag of stag-hunting 
 
2G4 MR. pacey romford's hounds. 
 
 flying in the ascendant. Still, as with Stotfold, so with other masters, 
 many people did not care to see the stag-hounds a second time. They 
 like to say they have seen a stag-hunt, and having seen one are 
 satisfied, and don't let out that things were not quite what they 
 expected. And now for our friend Mr. Stotfold. 
 
 We wish we could accommodate the sporting reader with a list of 
 Mr. Stotfold's stag-hounds ; but, unfortunately, the same difficulty pre- 
 sents itself that we encountered at the outset of this story with regard 
 to Mr. Eomford's pedigree — namely, that we did not know anything; 
 the fact being, that Mr. Stotfold did not keep any list. That, however, 
 is in reality of little importance ; for his huntsman, Jack Rogers, being 
 a liberal of the first class, did not burthen himself with much nomen- 
 clature either, and just called the majority of his hounds by any name 
 that came first into his head, so that the Cheerful of one day might be 
 the Careless of another, and perhaps the Countess or Caroline of a 
 third. 
 
 Mr. Stotfold generally had about five-and-twenty couple of hounds 
 in kennel, hunting from eighteen to twenty couple, according as the 
 exigencies of the rope and the casualties of the chase operated on their 
 number. He did not begin with a whole pack, but bought a lot of 
 drafts at the hammer, which were vacillating between the Indian 
 market and the tan-yard. These came in pretty cheap — some three or 
 four and forty shillings a couple ; and a hound being a hound in Mr. 
 Stotfold's estimation, he limited himself to three guineas a couple in 
 future — three guineas being his outside price. Of course he got some 
 for a great deal less — for nothing, in fact, sometimes ; it being common 
 among huntsmen, when they had a headstrong, skirting, babbling, 
 incorrigible animal that they could make nothing of, to exclaim to 
 their whips, " Send him to Stotfold ! send him to Stotfold ! " Hence, 
 as may be supposed, he had a very miscellaneous assortment of crooked- 
 legged, blear-eyed, broken-coated, loose-loined, flat-sided malefactors 
 in his possession. 
 
 Two very remarkable hounds, however, he had — namely, "Wide- 
 awake and Wiseacre ; not brothers, as the alliteration would lead on6 
 to suppose, for they were as dissimilar as it was possible for animals to 
 be, but so christened respectively on account of their extraordinary 
 powers and performances. So long as Jack Rogers, the huntsman, had 
 either "Wideawake or "Wiseacre before him, he was pretty sure that the 
 stag was before the hound, and made himself perfectly easy about the 
 rest of the pack. The reader can therefore do the same, and dismiss 
 the rest as a lot of makeweight incorrigibles, possessed of almost every 
 mental and bodily defect hounds are capable of. "We will now describe 
 
mi;, stotfold's establishment. 205 
 
 the flo-n «_r of the pack, in case any of »ur readers would like to breed 
 from them. 
 
 Wideawake was a yellow or light tan- coloured hound, with bright 
 hazel eyes and a very Spanish-pointer-like head and expression of 
 countenance. Indeed Jack Rogers, who was a bit of a utilitarian, 
 used to soy he wouldn't despair of making him point still. He — the 
 hound, that is to say — stood twenty-five inches high, with a drooping 
 kangaroo-like back, terminating in a very abruptly-docked tail, looking, 
 indeed, more like an Italian iron, as used in laundries, than a hound's- 
 stern. Nor were his personal defects his sole demerits. He ran mute, 
 and being a queer, unaccountable-looking animal, was as often taken 
 for the stag as for a hound. "Yeas, ar seed him," the countrymen 
 would reply to Jack's inquiry if they had seen the stag, " yeas, ar seed 
 him; short tail and arl, a-goin' as hard as ivir he could lick." 
 
 Wiseacre was quite a different description of animal, being of the 
 bull-dog-like order, black and white in colour ; very much the sort of 
 animal one sees chained under a carrier's cart. He was short and 
 thick, with a big bald face, loaded shoulders, crooked legs, and flat 
 feet. Unlike Wideawake, he was of the vociferous order; and though 
 he did not throw his tongue prodigally, he yet did it in such a solemn 
 sententious sort of way as always to carry conviction to the pack. He 
 could hunt both the stag and Wideawake, and run under Wideawake's 
 belly when he came up with him. Between the two, Jack reckoned 
 he could catch almost anything ; Wideawake making the running, and 
 Wiseacre keeping the clamorous party on the line. 
 
 And it was a fine, cheering, invigorating sight to stand on a rising 
 ground — Eounhay or Greenley Hill, for instance — and view the whole 
 panorama of the chase. The nohle but unantlered monarch lobbing 
 and blobbing across country, making for all the railway stations, 
 cabbage garths, and horse-ponds he could see, with the deficient- 
 tailed Wideawake leading the boisterous pack by some hundred yards 
 or so, while sedulous Wiseacre plied his nose diligently (doing a little 
 skirting occasionally), to recall his comrades in case they overshot the 
 joint scent of Wideawake and the stag, Jack Rogers and his plump 
 master crashing and cramming after them. And now for a word about 
 Rogers. 
 
 Jack Rogers, as we will now take the liberty of calling him, began 
 life as a circus man, being attached to the then flourishing trt "/>o 
 belonging to the late Mr. Nutkins, so favourably known throughout the 
 southern counties ; and Jack was great both in the saddle and the saw- 
 dust, enacting the drunken hussar with the greatest fidelity, and 
 throwing somersaults without stint or hesitation. Unfortunately, 
 
266 MR. FACEY KOMFOHD'S HOUNDS. 
 
 however, he had a difference with the clown, Mr. Smearface, who, 
 instead of visiting Jack with imaginary cuts with his whip, used to 
 drop it into him with such a hearty good will as caused Jack, who was 
 amazingly strong and an excellent boxer, to thrash him, not figu- 
 ratively, but literally, within an inch of his life. To escape the 
 consequences that seemed likely to ensue, Jack bolted to Boulogne, 
 where he presently became boots at the "Roast Beef of Old England 
 Hotel," a house, we need hardly say, greatly frequented by the 
 English. Here Jack took to learning the language, and adapting 
 himself to the manners and customs of the country, whereby he greatly 
 bettered his condition ; for the English like to get a lesson in Erench 
 for nothing, and Jack, being a sharp, clever fellow, adapted himself to 
 their humours, calling himself Jean Hougier, getting his ears bored, 
 wearing moustache and a good deal of bristly hair about his round, 
 good-humoured face. At length Jack tired of " mossooing," and 
 returned to England at the active age of forty, just as old Father Time 
 had shot the first tinge of grey through the aforesaid bristly jet-black 
 hair. He then became a valet to a young gentleman of the name of 
 Pringle — Billy Pringle — whose mother was what the servants call "a 
 quality lady;" that is to say, a lady of rank, — to wit, the Countess of 
 Ladythorne, wife of the Bight Honourable the Earl of Ladythorne, of 
 Tantivy Castle, in Featherbedfordshire. Here Jack — or rather Jean, 
 for he still retained the persiflage of the Frenchman — did very well, 
 having plenty of society and little to do, beyond cheating the young 
 gentleman, who was a very easy dupe. Unfortunately for Jean, how- 
 ever, his master's mother, before being a countess, had filled the 
 honourable office of a lady's maid, and was well versed in the 
 mysteries of servitude generally, and resented Jack's premature 
 abstraction of clothes and constant purchase of infallible recipes at his 
 master's expense, — recipes for making boots black, recipes for making 
 boots brown, recipes for making boots white, recipes for making boots 
 pink, recipes for making gloves white, recipes for making gloves drab, 
 recipes for making gloves cream-colour, and so on through the whole 
 catalogue of cleanable, renovateable articles of attire. 
 
 And, having hired Jack for her son when she was not a countess, 
 but a Mrs., her ladyship was very plainspoken with Jack, who, being 
 full of beans and independence, as these sort of gentry generally are, 
 threw up his place at once, saying it was far too " mean and con- 
 fining for him," and cast himself upon the world at large generally, 
 little doubting that he would very soon be sought after. Somehow or 
 other, though, Jack was out in his reckoning, and though he plied both 
 the French and English characters assiduously, and was often appa- 
 
MR. stotfold's establishment. 267 
 
 rently within an ace of being hired, yet somehow the engagement 
 always fell through at the last moment, and the seedier Jack got, the 
 quicker came the refusals. One gentleman to whom he offered him- 
 self as a French valet wanted an Euglish one ; another to whom he 
 offered himself as an English one wanted a Frenchman ; a third 
 wanted a taller man, a fourth a thinner man, a fifth a younger man — 
 all requirements that Jack could not comply with. The fact was, 
 that though he was a dark-complexioned man, there was a certain 
 indication about his nose that it would have been well if he could 
 have purchased a recipe for removing. Though he always placed him- 
 self with his back to the light when under examination, yet- somehow 
 the parties generally got him coaxed round to the window before they 
 were done with the scrutiny. And then came the thanks and the 
 sorries, and the tantalising promises to write if they thought more of 
 him, as if any of them ever meditated doing anything of the sort after 
 they had once got rid of him. 
 
 There is nothing so deplorable as a seedy valet. A man had fifty 
 times better be without any than have one of those painfully brushed 
 glazey-clothed gentlemen, who look as if the whole concern had been 
 bought second-hand. Jack, having in the days of his prosperity 
 indulged in bright colours, went more rapidly down hill than the 
 wearer of soberer garbs would have done, and at length he got so 
 shockingly shabby that the gentlemen's gentlemen began to hesitate 
 about passing him on to their masters when he went to look after a 
 place. He was a very different Jack to what he used to be at the 
 second tables when, in the full adornment of jewellery and latitude of 
 presumption, he bullied the pages, and found scarcely anything was 
 good enough for him. Now he was only too glad to sit down in the 
 hall amid the general ruck of servants, and get what he could on 
 the sly. 
 
 At this juncture it occurred to Jack that there are other ways of 
 obtaining a livelihood than by valeting, and, though valeting certainly 
 was the easiest and pleasanter line of all, he had no objection to hia 
 early professional career, and bethought him of trying his luck in the 
 sawdust circle once more. Accordingly he sought out Mr. Cracken- 
 thorpe, the manager of Crackenthorpe's Royal European Hippodrome, 
 and offered his services as a general performer ; but twenty years had 
 made a striking change in Jack's elasticity of limb. Instead of coming 
 cleverly through the paper balloon, after throwing a somersault, he 
 hit his head against the hoop, and sent it flying into the pit. Then, 
 having accidentally slipped from his saddle when rehearsing the part 
 of Billy Button the tailor, he could not regain his seat for some 
 
268 MR. FACEY ROMFORD'S HOUNDS. 
 
 seconds, and was so blown with, running alongside of the brute 
 and trying to pacify him, that Mr. Crackenthorpe lost all patience, 
 and left his locum tenens to bow him out at his leisure. Jack 
 then withdrew from that line entirely, and, after driving a country 
 doctor about in his pill-box for three months, who worked him 
 both day and night, he was next found as the odd man at Skid- 
 more' s Livery and Bait Stables in Pont Street, Pimlico, with twelve 
 shillings a week and a hay-loft to sleep in. If Sir Bernard Burke, 
 having exhausted the vicissitudes of families, were to turn his hand 
 to the vicissitudes of servants, he would not find a more checkered or 
 eventful career than that of our distinguished friend Mr. Rogers. 
 
 But it is a long lane that never has a turn, and Jack's turn came at 
 last. One fine summer's afternoon in the height of a London season, 
 when every job-master could send out double the number of vehicles 
 he could supply, and when every caitiff with a coat to his back was 
 elevated to the rank of a coachman, — one summer's afternoon, we say, 
 as Jack was clattering about Skidmore's yard in the wooden clogs of 
 servitude, with straw bands wrapped around his ankles, our squeakey 
 friend Mr. Stotfold came rolling in in a high state of excitement, 
 demanding first the master, then the mistress, then the ostler, then 
 the helper, then anybody he could see. He had just bought ten couple 
 of hounds at Tattersall's, and didn't know how the deuce to get them 
 away, or what to do with them when he had got them away. And, 
 as luck would have it, there was nobody in the yard but Rogers — Rogers 
 attired as aforesaid — "but needs must," says the proverb, "when 
 a certain old gentleman drives," and our master had no alternative 
 but to address himself to Jack. He told him candidly how they had 
 knocked the hounds down to him, and how he wanted them housed. 
 
 Now, Jack had a turn for the chase, and when with Mr. Pringle at 
 Tantivy Castle, on a visit to his late master's noble mother, the 
 Countess, had cultivated the acquaintance of Mr. Dickey Boggle- 
 dike, Lord Ladythorne's huntsman, and knew all about boiling and 
 feeding and kennelling, at least thought he did, and gladly volun- 
 teered his services to Mr. Stotfold. 
 
 " If Jack could only get a man to mind the yard while he was away, 
 he would go for them himself," he said, and a job brougham coming 
 in at the moment, he transferred his responsibility to the driver, 
 and, divesting himself of his sabots, put on an old puce-coloured 
 livery vest, now worn almost black, and proceeded on his way to the 
 Corner, inwardly hoping his employer might prove as simple as he 
 looked. 
 
 The hounds were in two lots of five couples each, now, however, 
 
ME. STOTFOLD S ESTABLISHMENT. 2G9 
 
 clubbed together like a bunch of onions, pulling and striving, and 
 straining all ways to be off they didn't know where to, and Jack, 
 seeing the position, summoned the intelligent bare-footed man in the 
 old green-collared Surrey hunt coat and cap, who haunts the passage, 
 and directing him to divide them (Jack thinking it would be better for 
 Surrey man to be bit than him), each then seized the tow rope of five 
 couple, and separating them proceeded up the entry, and down 
 Grosvenor Place with his charge, amid cries from the attendant street 
 urchins of " Talli o ! talli o ! A hunt ! a hunt ! Yere do you meet ? 
 Vere's the stag ? Have you seen my oss ? Crikey ! vot a hugly 
 man!" meaning, of course, Mr. Rogers. The "hugly" man, how- 
 ever, had his hands too full to be able to resent the indignity, and, 
 moreover, saw the fat boy's large figure looming in the rear. 
 
 " Handsome is that handsome does," says the proverb, and the way 
 our friend managed his hounds, and above all the skilful compli- 
 ments he paid Mr. Stotfold on his judgment in buying such a nice- 
 looking lot for so little money, completely ingratiated him with our 
 master, and made Mr. Stotfold glad when Jack hinted that ho 
 wouldn't mind giving up the capital place he then had under Mr. 
 Skidmore and coming to him. And Jack, not overrating himself — 
 indeed, putting his services rather low, Squeakey and he quickly 
 came to terms, and Jack left his sabots in Pont Street for the man 
 who came after him. He then became a huntsman — huntsman to Mr. 
 Stotfold, master of stag-hounds, in which capacity the reader will now 
 have the goodness to view him. 
 
 He had a capital time of it, too, for his master being ignorant 
 enough to hire him, was ignorant enough to keep him also, and a peri- 
 patetic stag-hunter like Mr. Stotfold was not troubled with those too 
 critical fields that raise or lower the fame of a huntsman, according to 
 the sport he shows. Jack was not only huntsman but master of the 
 horse, buying the meat for the kennel and the forage for the stables, 
 making up in overcharge on the articles what he considered himself 
 under paid in the matter of wages. 
 
 Hunting on what the swells call the scientific principle was qiute 
 beside Jack's mark. Nevertheless he could ride — ride over almost 
 anything, and also blow the key-bugle, and seldom or ever had he 
 occasion to play — 
 
 " OL where and oh where is my Highland laddie gone f " 
 
 in consequence of losing his stag. If he whiles, as he said, let the 
 hounds have a bite of its haunch, it was to make the lobbing gentle* 
 
270 ME. FACET UOMFORD's HOUNDS. 
 
 man more agile in future, Jack being of opinion that if a hound once 
 put his fangs well into him, the stag would take care not to let him 
 do it again if he could help it. At least, Jack knew he wouldn't if he 
 were the stag. 
 
 Such, then, was the gentleman now invited by Mrs. Watkins to 
 meet our distinguished sportsman Mr. Romford, and obliterate the 
 recollection of the Carstangs disappointment. 
 
 CHAPTER LI. 
 
 MR. STOTFOLD ARRIVES AT DALBERRV LEES. 
 
 Railways are capital things for long distances, but they don't do 
 much for short ones. It is a grand thing to fly from one end of the 
 kingdom to another in a day, but, for anything within ten miles, there 
 is nothing like having one's own horse or conveyance. "With them 
 there is no hurry or confusion, ten minutes is neither here nor there, 
 but one minute makes all the difference with a railway. It is very 
 provoking to see a train gliding smoothly out at one end of a station 
 as we come hurrying in at the other ; yet such things do happen with 
 parties wearing even the best regulated chronometers. But if railways 
 do little for travellers, they do less for visitors, who are generally set 
 down either far too early or much too late — extremes greatly to be 
 deprecated. It is tiresome in the short winter deys, when there is no 
 alleviating turn to take round the farm or the garden, to have to con- 
 sume the intervening time before dinner in the house, still worse to 
 meet the first course leaving the dining-room, all hope of one's coming 
 being extinct. 
 
 Neither of these casualties, we are happy to say, awaited our friend 
 Mr. Stotfold, for, having consulted his amanuensis, Mr. Tomkins, the 
 station-master at Pickering Nook, that official chose him a train that 
 would not only set him down in good time, but secure him a con- 
 veyance to Dalberry Lees, "It being no fun," as Tomkins truly said, 
 " to have to walk several miles in the dark." This was a through 
 train, and many of the passengers having come long distances and 
 made themselves comfortable, were not inclined to be disturbed, cer- 
 tainly not to admit a stranger of our friend's dimensions, so the usual 
 artifices were resorted to, dummies exhibited, and babies plied at the 
 
MR. STOTFOLD ARRIVES AT DALBERRY LEES. 271 
 
 windows, it being a well-ascertained fact that there is nothing so 
 efficacious as a hobby for keeping men out of a carriage. But Loggaii, 
 the guard, always had a place in reserve for a "gent" like our friend, 
 and now obsequiously met and led him along the line to a newly 
 painted carriage, in the centre compartment of which were only an 
 elderly lady and her handsome, but slightly passe, daughter, who he 
 knew would hare no objection to the introduction of such a stranger 
 as Squire Stotfold ; indeed Loggan rather thought that the two 
 travelled for the purpose of picking up an eligible young man if they 
 could. And the fat boy having squeezed himself in sideways, squeak- 
 ing his apologies as he got himself seated, proceeded to unfold his rug 
 and set his tongue agoing on a sort of general issue expedition — weather, 
 crops, concerts, balls, pic-nics, the usual staple of unmarried conver- 
 sation — making himself what the ladies call very agreeable, or very 
 forward, according as they or another is the object of attention. 
 
 But it was a short-lived triumph, for they had hardly got the full 
 swing of conversation established ere the slackening speed of the train 
 announced a coming stop, and it presently pulled up before the now 
 familiar Firfield Station. Loggan's rosy face then appeared at the 
 carriage window, announcing to our master of stag-hounds that his 
 railway journey was at an end. Mr. Stotfold had, therefore, to tear 
 himself away from his newly-found friends before he had even run 
 them to their homes. "With a radiant smile to each, out then he 
 rolled, wrapper and all, and presently began squeaking for a porter 
 — "Porter! Porter! Porter!" — attracting all eyes to the windows 
 to see such a jolly cockatoo, all green and yellow and red, for the fat 
 boy did not seem to think he could make himself sufficiently con- 
 spicuous. The train presently sped on, and, having given up his 
 ticket, he began squeaking for the 'bus. 
 
 Independent Jimmy stared with astonishment as the fat boy's great 
 stomach came looming along, tightly buttoned into a bright green 
 double-breasted cut-away coat, with a buff vest, yellow leathers, and 
 rose-tinted tops ; his short neck being adorned with a bright scarlet 
 sensation tie, secured by a massive blue and gold ring. 
 
 " 'Bus, 'bus! where's the 'bus?" squeaked he. 
 
 "'Bus!" growled Jimmy, eyeing him, adding, "sink ye should 
 have a barge." 
 
 But the fat boy still continued his vociferations. 
 
 " Are ye gannin to tak' the whole on't yoursel' now ?" demanded 
 Jimmy. 
 
 " .No, only me and my man," replied the boy, pointing to a grinning 
 little ear-ringed Frenchman, all teeth and hair, like a rat-catcher's dog. 
 
272 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 "Ar dinna think -we can hould any but yersel'," replied Jimmy, 
 "ye're se fat," added he, looking him over. 
 
 "Hut," snorted the boy indignantly, half inclined to kick him; 
 " an impudent 'bus man talking to a master of stag-hounds in 
 that way." 
 
 •'' Why, then, ar tell ye what, ye mun just wait for the melon-frame," 
 replied Jimmy, " for there are two women, 'maist as big as yoursel' 
 with their hoops, who want to be gannin wi' me." 
 
 "Melon-frame!" squeaked our friend; "melon-frame! what the 
 deuce have I to do with a melon-frame ? " 
 
 " It's the private carridge," explained Jimmy, " and ye'll ride far 
 comfortabler, and besides be set doon at the Dalberry Lees door, 'stead 
 o' bein' left by the side of the road with the 'bus," and Jimmy's 
 master appearing at the moment, bearing a basket of live geese, Jimmy 
 jerked his head at our fat friend and said "here's a gent wants to be 
 gannin wi' ye." 
 
 The melon-frame door was then opened, the wraps were put in, and 
 the fat boy squeezed himself in sideways, leaving his valet to see to 
 the luggage. All being presently adjusted, " Jip /" cried the driver, 
 and away they drove from the station. Twenty minutes brought them 
 to Dalberry Lees. Here, though Mr. Stotfold, master of stag-hounds, 
 expected to be the hero of the party, yet he was not so in reality, 
 being in fact only auxiliary to Mr. Romford. Indeed, if it hadn't 
 been for our fox-hound master, Stotfold wouldn't have been there at 
 all. So, when he rolled into the drawing-room after his name, and 
 found Mr. Romford, who had somewhat recovered from his Tarring 
 Neville fever, playing the flute to Miss Cassandra Cleopatra, he took 
 him rather smally, just as a master of fox-hounds might be supposed 
 to take a master of harriers. In this he was somewhat confirmed 
 by finding Mr. Romford in mufti — Tweed ditto suit — instead of 
 being arrayed, as he himself was, in the costume of the chase. 
 Stotfold thought a master of hounds should always look like his 
 work. 
 
 Stotfold, indeed, had not ascertained his exact status as a master of 
 stag-hounds, and having found his name when he advertised his meets 
 afc the top of the list of hounds, along with the Queen's, a baron's, 
 a baronet's, and so on, thought himself entitled to look down upon the 
 followers of all other bi'anches of venery, and looked down upon them 
 accordingly. He talked of the Queen and I, Davis and I, Bess- 
 borough and I, &c. Nor was Stotfold's ignorance peculiar to him- 
 self, for Mrs. "Watkins, fully believing she was going to give Mr. 
 Romford a great treat, would not anticipate his delight by telling him 
 
MR. STOTFOLD ARRIVES AT DALBEERY LEES. 273 
 
 the name, so Mr. Komford was kept in a state of pleasurable excite- 
 ment. 
 
 The reader will therefore readily imagine that it was with no very 
 satisfactory feelings that our Master was interrupted in the middle of 
 his accompaniment on the flute of Miss Cassandra Cleopatra on the 
 harp in the popular air of " Dixey's Land," by the announcement and 
 entry of this extraordinary contribution to the chace. Facey started, 
 for his puffing and blowing had prevented his hearing the ring and 
 arrival, and, as he sat with his back to the door, it was only by Miss 
 Cassandra Cleopatra breaking off abruptly to do the honours in the 
 absence of mamma, that Facey was sensible of the presence of a 
 stranger. Up he got too, and, instead of finding Lord Who-knows- 
 what, confronted the before-mentioned fat boy. 
 
 " Mither Eomford, Mither Stotfold," lisped the fair lady, and as 
 soon as Mr. Stotfold relinquished her soft hand, which he claimed just 
 as he would that of one of the nymphs of the Pickering Nook 
 Station, he tendered his own to Mr. Romford. 
 
 Romford looked unutterable things, for, besides the disappointment 
 of a good introduction to a master of fox-hounds, he had had a bill 
 sent in for two new gates which he was sure the fat boy had smashed 
 the last time he enlarged his quadruped at Pine Hill Clump, besides 
 which he owed him one for the trespass in his country. So Eomford 
 just gave him two fore-fingers of his left hand, holding his flute in his 
 right one as if he was going to break it over his head. The ceremony 
 of introduction thus over, Facey then resumed his seat, and the fat 
 boy having looked round the room to find a chair large enough to hold 
 him, at length wheeled one up to the scene of the music, and com- 
 posed himself in it. Miss then rang the bell to let mamma know 
 Mr. Stotfold was come, thinking it better to have four people in the 
 room than three. Mamma presently came sailing in, and received 
 the great stag-hunter in state. Still she saw by Mr. Romford's face 
 that all was not right. It wore much the same sort of aspect that it 
 did on the unfortunate bag-fox morning. 
 
 Not so, however, Mr. Stotfold' s. Prom living so much alone, he 
 had a pent-up torrent of words to discharge, and, having now got a 
 listener in Mrs. "Watkins, he opened the flood-gates of his vehemence 
 and squeaked and chattered away with the utmost volubility, in the 
 midst of which Pacey and Cassandra resumed the interrupted melody 
 of "Dixey's Land." Before they concluded, friend "Willy made, his 
 appearance, nursing and feeling his side hair as usual, and then Mr. 
 Stotfold had another victim to his noise. 
 
 "We need scarcely say that this being what Pacey would call a " bye- 
 
 i 
 
274 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 day," Lubbins bad not the satisfaction of displaying her cookery, and 
 the thing was very flat and unprofitable compared to the former occa- 
 sion. The fact was, Mr. Facey had been over with his flute once or 
 twice since then, and Mrs. "Watkins hoped things were gradually 
 drawing into the family circle line; they, therefore, only sat down 
 eight to dinner, Mr. Tuckwell, Mr. Horsington and Mrs. Dust, near 
 and short-notice neighbours making up the number. Mrs. Dust, of 
 course, was engaged to help to keep the course clear for Cassandra. 
 But if the party was small, the noise was great ; the fat boy going in 
 at everything that was said, and giving his opinions in the most 
 authoritative way. When, however, the ladies retired, the real amuse- 
 ment commenced, for not content with lauding the stag-hounds, he 
 must needs sneer at the fox-hounds, which of course got Mr. Romford 1 % 
 back up, who held fox-hunting to be the finest sport in the world. 
 So the evening did not pass very harmoniously, and Mr. Facey was 
 glad when he found himself back in the drawing-room. 
 Let us now pass on to the next morning. 
 
 CHAPTER LII. 
 
 THE BENICIA EOT. 
 
 " Oh, Mamma, there's Lorrimer, the latheman's cart ! " exclaimed 
 our lisping friend, looking out of the window, as they all sat at break- 
 fast the next morning. " I'll get him to examine my black lathe 
 scarf." 
 
 "Lacenian ! " squeaked Stotfold, looking out, adding, "'No; It's my 
 deer-cart." 
 
 "Deer-cart!" replied Miss Watkins, jumping up and running to 
 the window, adding, "Deer-cart is it? "Why, who'd have thought 
 of a deer keeping a cart?" 
 
 Squeakey was right, however. It was indeed the deer-cart — the 
 deer-cart followed by a most heterogeneous assemblage of foot-people, 
 collected from the various villages through which it had passed on its 
 way from the station. High up on a solitary seat sat the driver. 
 Iressed in Lincoln green, lording it over the old white horse as though 
 de were driving four-in-hand. The lofty vehicle, which was painted 
 rlark green, was ventilated from the roof, and displayed on its side, 
 in white letters on a black ground, the wr/lking advertisement of 
 
THE BENICIA BOf. 275 
 
 "Augustus Stoxfold, Esquire's Deer-Cart, Pickering !Nook." The 
 vehicle, as Hood says in his " Epping Hunt," was — 
 
 *' In shape like half a hearse— tho' not 
 For corpses in the least ; 
 For this contained the deer alive, 
 And not the dear deceased 1 " 
 
 Then a deputation from the stables having met the procession, and 
 fixed upon the exact spot — a slightly rising ground just before the 
 mansion-house, where the noble animal might be enlarged in full view 
 of all tho spectators — Lincoln green wheeled the cart round, and 
 dropping his reins on the old white horse's back, prepared his own 
 mouth to receive the contents of the then coming cup — 
 
 " And letting go the reins, of com so, 
 Prepared for heavy wet." 
 
 The drain over, he returned the mug, and then rising in his little 
 seat, began flagellating his own chest with his arms, causing the 
 Benecia Boy, for it was none other than the mischievous fellow inside, 
 to stamp and thump with his feet, to the terror of the little boys who 
 expected to have him amongst them directly. The more the man 
 thrashed, the more the deer stamped, doubtless expecting every 
 moment to be ejected from his comfortable carriage. And, now, 
 where are all your visions of rousing the antlered monarch from his 
 lair, ye enthusiastic souls ? Or where the wild expanse of country, 
 ye romantic ones? One view of the deer-cart on the smooth lawn, 
 lias dispelled them all ! Yet nobody likes to exclaim, " Wot a go ! " 
 But see ! here comes Jack Sogers and the hounds ! Jack about half 
 seas over from the ovations he has received on the road. His cap is 
 cocked jauntily above the left ear, his pink is thrown carelessly open, 
 even to the exposure of a much-stained buff vest, while his badly- 
 cleaned boots seem on the worst possible terms with his dirty Bedford 
 cords, hardly indeed inclined to approach them at all. 
 
 He is riding a great raking, white-heeled, cock-throppled chestnut, 
 who throws his snaffle-bridled head up and down in a way that would 
 look very like spoiling Jack's beauty if he had any. A little behind 
 the pack, comes a diminutive man, in a red coat and drab gaiters, 
 riding a most powerful dray-horse-looking brown for the fat master. 
 This is a horse called " Hatter-his-heart-out," from his notorious 
 rough action, a quality that, while it has caused his ejection from 
 other stables, has procured him admission into Mr. Stotfold's, wloso 
 
 x 2 
 
J?76 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 idea of a bunt corresponds with the familiar label on a doctor's bottle, 
 " When taken to be well sbaken." 
 
 Jack Rogers wishing to have his kennel "sweetened a little," as he 
 calls it, an operation of not very frequent occurrence with him, baa 
 brought out all its contents, young and old, big and little, wild and 
 steady, coupling up the most incorrigible, and ruling over the whole 
 with a formidable loose thonged whip, held ready for immediate action. 
 Tack is evidently of honest Sancho Panza's opinion, "that it is good 
 to have command, if only over a flock of sheep ; " so he rides in the 
 middle of his curs, looking as solemnly wise as half-drunken men 
 generally do. The hounds raised a wild cry as they caught sight of 
 the deer-cart, and would infallibly have broken away had not Jack 
 distributed sundry telling cuts amongst the thick of them, thus con- 
 verting their cry into howls. This second scene of the grand sporting 
 drama, again roused the inmates of the house, and as the ladies now 
 withdrew to put on their bonnets, Mr. Romford crowned himself with 
 his drab wide-a-wake, and, providing himself with a good cutting whip 
 from the armoury in the passage, opened the front door, and vaulting 
 the rails, proceeded to where the noisy group stood baying — fowling, 
 howling, and scratching themselves. "We don't know whether it was 
 instinct or chance, or the effect of previous instruction, but Jack gave 
 our Master of foxhounds such a salute with bis cap as seldom falls to 
 the lot of any man in mufti. It wasn't a touch of the peak, or a rise, 
 or a lift, but a bold bodily take-off from the head, with a fine aerial 
 sweep that nearly brought his cap in conjunction with his cock- 
 throppled horse's ears. The hounds too increased their vehemence, so 
 that altogether there was a very pretty reception. 
 
 Mr. Romford, who was used to caps, good, bad, and indifferent, just 
 jerked his hand in return, and proceeded to cast his scrutinising little 
 eyes into the body of the pack — a very slight inspection satisfied him 
 that he had never seen such a collection before. 
 
 "Nice looking lot of hounds," at length said he, addressing Jack, 
 who sat cockeyly on his horse, waiting the customary compliment. 
 
 " Yes, they are," replied Jack, " very nice looking lot of hounds — 
 good as they look, too." 
 
 " Set of rubbish," muttered Romford, turning half round on his heel. 
 
 " "Want a little dressing here, don't you ? " asked Romford, rubbing 
 his whip down the back of a desperately dull broken-coated hound. 
 
 " Ah, why he scratched whiles," replied Jack, " but it's nothin' to 
 signify." 
 
 "Isn't it?" thought Romford. He then took another good stare 
 at the pack. 
 
THE BENICIA BOY. 277 
 
 " Are they any particular blood ? " at leugth asked Romford, not 
 being able to recognise the slightest family likeness amongst them. 
 
 ""Well, no," replied Jack; "we just pick them up here and there. 
 That one, pointing to our before -mentioned yellow friend Wideawake, 
 is from the Kensal Green Kennel — one of the best hounds p'raps in 
 England. There's another," said Jack, pointing to "Wiseacre. 
 
 " Good as he's ugly, I 'spose ? " muttered Facey. 
 
 Squeakey and "Willy "Watkins now joined the gay throng, the latter 
 in a desperate funk ; for if fox-hunting was formidable, stag-hunting, 
 he understood, was tremendous — always went straight. Still he essayed 
 to keep up his courage ; and advancing, whip under arm, as he drew 
 on his white buckskin gloves, he proceeded to return Jack Rogers' 
 vehement salute, Jack being now further fortified by a couple of glasses 
 of Dalberry Lees rum. 
 
 "Monstrous nice pack!" exclaimed "Watkins at random, "Monstrous 
 nice pack! " hardly knowing what he was saying, but wishing most 
 devoutly that he was coming in from hunting instead of going 
 out. "Oh, dear! "Why was there ever such torment invented?" 
 thought he. 
 
 ""Well, and how's the Benecia Boy this morning?" squeaked 
 Stotfold, as soon as his huntsman's attentions were directed to him. 
 
 "Oh, why he seems pretty hamiable, I think," replied Jack; "but 
 I've brought Old Scratch in case he shouldn't run." 
 
 "Ah, which have you here? " squeaked the Master. 
 
 " The Boy," replied Jack. "Scratch is shut up in the lamp-room 
 at the Galliburn Station." 
 
 " Hope they won't let him out? " squeaked Mr. Stotfold. 
 
 " No fear of that, unless he comes out at the skylight ; for I've got 
 the key of the door," said Jack, producing a large ringed key from his 
 coat pocket as he spoke. 
 
 " All right," squeaked the Master; adding, "'praps you may as 
 well be going ? " Then turning to Mr. "Watkins, he asked, " if there 
 was any place where they could put up the hounds while they turned 
 out the stag?" 
 
 " Oh, yes," replied Mr. "Watkins, rather taken aback at the ques- 
 tion, his idea being that they all started fair together. "Oh, yea; 
 put them up somewhere; " adding, " ask my man; " — our friend not 
 exactly knowing whether they should be up-stairs, or down-stairs, or 
 in my lady's chamber. 
 
 Away then Jack trotted up to the stables, and the interest of the 
 ncene was again concentrated on the deer-cart. There it stood as 
 solemn as before, looking like a double-tailed tadpole, with its two 
 
278 MR. FACET EOMFOED'S HOUNDS. 
 
 tapering lines of spectators bearing away from its body. If the horse- 
 men mustered m eagerly, the deficiency was amply supplied by the 
 footpeople. 
 
 It seemed to have attracted all the idle population of the country 
 and the cry was still they come ! they come ! Joiners in their paper 
 <?aps, shoemakers in their leather aprons, grooms in their fustians, 
 gardeners in their shirt sleeves, all agog to see the wonderful wild 
 beast. The fair sex too were duly represented ; and besides a Barcelona 
 " crack-'em-and-try-'ern " nut-merchant, there were two orange-girls, 
 and an unlicensed dealer in spirituous liquors. Expectation stood on 
 tip-toe as to what the solemn looking deer-cart contained, one thinking 
 the stag would be like a unicorn, another that he would resemble a 
 goat, a third that he would be like Billy Batson's ram. Still, what- 
 ever it was, they all seemed disposed to give him a wide berth, by 
 keeping a most respectful avenue open for him instead of giving him 
 a chance of sticking or eating any of them up when he came out. 
 
 And now as our fat friend waddled round the corner from the 
 stables, the commotion increased ; the deer's coachman moved his van 
 a few paces to arouse the noble animal, whose formidable feet might 
 uow be heard stamping upon the boards of his equipage. 
 
 The fever of excitement was then at its height. The gaping rustics 
 stared wider than aver, the big boys stepped back a pace or two, and 
 the little ones trembled, many of them wishing themselves at home 
 again. But when the fat boy squeaked the order to " Let 'im out ! " 
 there was a feeling of disappointment throughout the throng; for 
 there were neither horses, nor hounds, and those who expected to see 
 the stag start off directly, thought he would be over Bainford Hill 
 before they could ever get them out. On this point, however, they 
 were presently undeceived, for though the door was opened by the old 
 gentleman in charge, creeping cautiously along the top of the van and 
 shooting the bolt, yet no deer appeared, and those who durst take a 
 peep in from either side, saw a rather donkeyfied- looking anima] 
 backing its hind-quarters against the far end of the vehicle, as though 
 it wanted to be out that way. But the old gentleman in green, who 
 had a long whip, much at the service of the animal, proceeded to 
 administer the but end through the ventilator ; and after sundry down- 
 ward thumps, producing a series of indignant snorts and stamps, it at 
 length operated beneficially, causing him to jump out, and, head in 
 air, to trot leisurely down the avenue of spectators, amid the derisive 
 shouts and yells of the mob. In truth the Benecia Boy was not a very 
 wild or imposing looking animal, his coat being dull and worn in 
 parts, while one of its sides was powdered with Avbitening caused by 
 
THE BENICIA BOY. 279 
 
 a restive rubbing against the wall of its town-house in Pickering Nook 
 Still the Boy could go when inclined, and had given our fat friend 
 some severe leads out, indeed on one or two occasions had been lost 
 altogether, or Jack Rogers having got rid of his master had pretended 
 to lose him in order that he might indulge in a drink, and resume the 
 sport on the following day. But the Boy was not to be depended 
 upon — sometimes he would go, and sometimes he wouldn't, in which 
 latter case, of course there was nothing for it but the donkeyman's 
 alternative that we mentioned before, of larruping him, an unbecoming 
 proceeding with a beast of venery. 
 
 All anxiety about his now immediate escape was speedily dispelled 
 by the leisurely trot he now took about the lawn — looking this way 
 and that, as though he hardly knew whether he would go on or come 
 back to his box. He seemed quite easy about the matter, very unlike 
 an animal put on trial for its life. At one time, indeed, he looked as 
 if he would make for the garden, but there he was frustrated by the 
 intervention of the kitchen-maid going down from the house for the 
 vegetables. He then looked in at the dairy, and finally trotted ofi 
 down the carriage drive, past the gaudy-gated lodges, and so on to the 
 turnpike. 
 
 The ejectment of the stag over, the excitement of the scene seems to 
 collapse. Those who want to see more of him follow in his wake ; 
 but the majority stay behind to talk him over, and criticise his per- 
 formance. At all events, there is none of the wild enthusiasm caused 
 by the sudden start up of the hare off the fallow, or the hustling, 
 bustling, get-away-close-at-his-brush of the fox from the cover. On the 
 contrary, there is a vacuum between the turning out and the laying on, 
 that may perhaps be advantageously filled up with a cigar. So, as the 
 semi-theatrical gentlemen say, with a smile and a bow, when they 
 want to break the performance in two, " there will now be an interval 
 of ten minutes, if the reader pleases." 
 
CHAPTER LIII. 
 
 THE STAG-HUNT. 
 
 Being now refreshed, we return with, ardour to the chace. The 
 Benicia Boy, as the reader will remember, is away — trotting gaily 
 along the road, startling the horsemen and astonishing the foot people, 
 sniffing the fresh air as if it were more agreeable than that of his box. 
 Our sportsmen are up at the stables, Mr. Romford adjusting the 
 stirrups of the saddle on one of Willy Watkins' s horses for himself. 
 Mr. "Watkins already on his horse most earnestly wishing himself off, 
 and grinning Jack Rogers, all eager for the fray, thinking how he wiL 
 astonish the natives. 
 
 The first thing that now struck our Master of fox-hounds was our 
 squeakey friend Mr. Stotfold vociferating for the rope — ""Where's 
 my rope? I haven't got my rope ! Get me my rope ! " as if he was 
 bent on immediate self-destruction. 
 
 " Rope ! " exclaimed Romford, " what the deuce do you want with 
 the rope ? Have your hunt out first, at all events." 
 
 " For the take, to be sure," squeaked fatty, laughing now, receiv- 
 ing a coil of rope from a servant, which he slipped into a large inside 
 coat-pocket, just as a clown in a pantomime disposes of a goose or a 
 few yards of sausages. The boy then gave his fat self a hearty shake 
 as if to ascertain that all was right, and thinking it was — money, 
 keys, watch, buns, cigars, rope, and all, he next began squeaking for 
 his horse. 
 
 "Now, then, I want my horse! get me my horse! where's my 
 horse!" and forthwith the dray-horse-like brown emerged from the 
 side-stable, for our Master to mount. But this wasn't so easily 
 managed as thought, for Willy Watkins had abolished the steps at 
 the end of the stable as antediluvian, without providing a substitute, 
 and Stotfold's legs being short, and his horse high, he hopped about 
 with one foot in the stirrup, without daring to attempt the gr£ nd final 
 hoist. 
 
 " Get me a pail! get me a pail!" at length squeaked he, relin- 
 quishing the effort, and forthwith two helpers rushed out with a pail 
 each, while a third punched and pushed the punchy horse up to where 
 
THE STAG-HUNT. 281 
 
 they stood. Stotfold then made a bold effort and landed in the 
 happy haven of his enormous saddle, and began shuffling and 
 working himself about like a jockey trying to establish a seat. At 
 length he got one to his liking, and Romford having mounted his 
 horse, things at length seemed all ready for a start. But the fat boy, 
 instead of ordering Jack Rogers to liberate the pent-up pack in the 
 straw -house, pulled his cigar-case out of his breast-pocket and deli- 
 berately selecting a weed, began squeaking for fire wherewith to light 
 it — "Has anj-body got any fire! — has anybody got any fire!" 
 demanded he, and Facey, who had just lit his pipe, handed him it, 
 and the fat boy proceeded to imbibe and blow up a leisurely cloud, 
 instead of pursuing his deer as hard as he could. 
 
 While all this was enacting, Brisket the butcher, and two or three 
 other horsemen — or, more properly speaking, ponymen, — who had 
 met the Benicia Boy were having a most enjoyable hunt. At first 
 he seemed inclined to sulk, but Ballinger the carter's whip being 
 freely administered, awoke him to a sense of his danger — if not of his 
 duty — causing him to put his best leg first, and eventually to place 
 two or three stiffish fences between him and his pursuers. The 
 further the Boy went, the further the field were now left behind, and 
 as the Benicia Boy passed through the orchard at the back of Mr. 
 Tithemtight's rectory, the last of them left him, and he was only 
 incommoded by farmer Badstock's cur. This he presently disposed of 
 by a rush and a stamp of his foot, and then went trotting leisurely 
 over the clean linen on Mrs. Martindale's drying-ground, from whence 
 he passed into Mr. Ketherington's nursery-garden, and had a dance 
 among the winter-cabbages and Brussels sprouts. 
 
 The sound of voices and of horses' hoofs on the stones now roused 
 the inmates of the straw-house, drawing forth a joyous yell, and when 
 Jack Rogers shot the bolt, every hound bounded out fall cry, and 
 spread in all directions. Bouncer made straight for the dairy, Ranti- 
 pole rushed into the scullery, while Prodigal and Poulterer dived up 
 to their ears in the pig-pail. 
 
 " Get on, and blow your horn ! " now cried Romford, unused to 
 such riotous proceedings, and dropping his whip-thong, he proceeded 
 to lay it into the offenders with hearty good will. Jack Rogers aided 
 his endeavours, and by the time the fat boy appeared in front of 
 Dalberry Lees, he had as many hounds about him as if he was making 
 a cast. Unfortunately, however, Miss "Watkins's Shetland pony was 
 careering about the park, and certain anonymous hounds, thinking, 
 perhaps, he would do as well as the stag, proceeded to charge him 
 with vigorous determination, while a few others broke away at a cow. 
 
282 mr. facet romford's hounds. 
 
 Then the horn and whips were at work again ; the fat hoy inflated 
 his cheeks till they looked like bladder-balloons, and Rogers and Rom- 
 ford raced ronnd the respective detachments of deserters to whipcord 
 them hack, at which "Willy Watkins's horse denoted his delight by 
 sundry squeaks and hounds in the air that nearly sent our friend over 
 its head — "Oh, for Mr. Stotfold's weight to keep him down!" 
 thought Willy. 
 
 The rule of Mr. Stotfold's hunt was for the Master to hunt the 
 hounds as long as he could, after which Mr. Rogers was at liberty to 
 take them, and, both carrying horns, the arrangement answered very 
 well, as Jack was always ready to face any place his master declined. 
 And Jack, who was a bit of a courtier, always magnified his master's 
 performance. 
 
 " That was a most terrific jump you took into the Adderley-road, 
 just below the windmill," he would say ; or " I never saw a man ride 
 over a brook better than you did over Long Kitlington Burn — 
 wouldn't have had it myself at no price; " the said Burn, at its best 
 being about three yards wide, with sound banks on each side. 
 
 But let us pursue the Benicia Boy. 
 
 There not being much chance of a scent where the preliminary hunt 
 had taken place, the fat boy had nothing for it but to cast on till he 
 came to virgin soil, and it was not until he neared farmer Badstock's 
 fold-yard that the redoubtable Wideawake dropped his stump of a 
 stern, and Wiseacre endorsing the movement with his tongue, the rest 
 of the pack were good enough to take their opinions from him, and, 
 gradually closing in, at length assumed somewhat the appearance of a 
 pack. " Hooj> /" screeched Jack Rogers, cheering them on, as if it 
 was the most brilliant move that ever was made. He inwardly hoped 
 Mr. Romford saw it. 
 
 The Benicia Boy, as was his wont, had taken a turn round the 
 country before deciding which line to adopt, astonishing sundry 
 country folk by his appearance among them. Old Tommy Cobnut 
 cutting fern in Brambleton brake for bedding for his pig, young Johnny 
 Gooseman taking his colt to the shop, sundry girls playing at pitch- 
 halfpenny at the low corner of farmer Hoggin's field, instead of pulling 
 turnips at the high one — all of whom stood staring with their heads 
 up, wondering whatever the Boy could be. One said he was a donkey, 
 another that he was the devil, a third that he was a Kyloe. At 
 length the notes of the horn, and the cheer of the hunters came wafced 
 on the breeze, and first one pedestrian and then another telegraphed 
 the line of the chace to our friends with their hats or their hoes or 
 their arms. 
 
THE STAG-HUNT. 283 
 
 Jack Rogers now began to grin, for he saw the stag was going to 
 run, and he thought Mr. lioruford couldn't fail but to be highly 
 delighted with the entertainment. Indeed, like Jawkins with Mrs. 
 Somcrville, he almost fancied Mr. Facey might tip him. 
 
 " T-o-o-Id you so ! " exclaimed Jack, rising in his stirrups ; " t-o-o-M 
 you so ! " repeated he, pointing with his whip to where Wideawake 
 was now leading, as usual. And Jack cheered the allied forces to the 
 echo. Then, 
 
 Invincible Jack and invincible Jowler, 
 Invincible Tom aud invincible Towler, 
 
 all laid their heads together to assist in the grand consummation of the 
 catch. 
 
 The scent was now strong and good. They all seemed to enjoy it ; 
 even the generally mute ones threw their tongues occasionally, and the 
 skirters closed in for their share of the fun. So they raced along 
 Galloway Lane, down Dinlington Hill (astonishing a gipsy camp at 
 the turn), and, striking away across Castle Kennedy Common, made 
 for the dewy vale of Horbury Heath beyond. This was one of the 
 misnamed, or rather nature-changed, countries — like many commons, 
 chases, and meres, which now present nothing of their original state; 
 and Horbury Heath, instead of being a wild, desolate track, frequented 
 only by plovers and poachers, was a rich alluvial soil, with stoat 
 quickset fences and very wide, uncomfortable-looking ditches. Now, 
 the Benicia Boy was fond of leaping, and made for the thick of these 
 impediments, bucking and bounding as if they were so many skipping- 
 ropes, to the great discomfiture of many of his followers. Here Mr. 
 "Willy "Watkins, having sorely scratched his face, declined any further 
 distinction. At Brailsford Bank, however, the field was presently 
 recruited by the appearance of our coatless friend, Independent 
 Jimmy, who, having now got a young iron-grey in lieu of Mr. Hazey's 
 old horse, thought to try if he could do anything in the hunting way. 
 So, on meeting the stag bobbing along, he unharnessed the young horse 
 from the melon frame, and tying his aged companion up to a gate, was 
 ready mounted, bare-backed, blinkers and all, when the tailing hounds 
 came toiling up. 
 
 " He's on," said Jimmy, jerking his head the way he had gone, 
 and on they went along the grassy siding of the road, which the Boy 
 had run on, in preference to the hard. Mr. Rogers was now in com- 
 mand, the fat boy having fallen in arrear at some of the more 
 formidable places, and his rough -actioned horse, Hatter-his-heart-out, 
 having worked him up into a considerable i tew. 
 
284 mr. facey romford's hounds. 
 
 So far the Benicia Boy had kept clear of the towns, and would most 
 likely have continued that course if they had not come in his way; 
 but the pretty little village of Cherryford standing on rising ground, 
 temptingly diversified by green slopes and gardens, was too inviting 
 for an enterprising stag to withstand. So, taking the village diago- 
 nally, he passed through Mr. Collup ton's flower-garden, over Mr. 
 Hopkins's bleaching-field, into Pansey's nursery-ground, and from 
 thence into a high beech-hedged slip of ground, interspersed with 
 swings, hoops, and gymnasiums. This was neither more nor less than 
 the playground at the back of Miss Birch's finishing and polishing 
 seminary ; and, in all probability, the Benicia Boy would have passed 
 quietly along the passage, through the centre of the house — the vis-a- 
 vis doors of which stood invitingly open — and so out on to the lawn 
 in front, but for the wretched jingling notes of the old school piano, 
 that parents buy so often over in the course of their children's educa- 
 tion, causing him to stop and listen attentively, to hear whether it was 
 his old friends the hounds or not. Retreating a few steps, with a 
 slight digression to the right, brought him in front of a plate-glass 
 window, at which, after contemplating himself attentively, he made a 
 most deliberate dash, landing handsomely in the drawing-room, clear- 
 ing the globes and a model of Vienna. What a crash and commotion 
 was there ! 
 
 " Murder ! thieves! murder!" screeched Miss Birch, hurrying 
 down from her bed-room. 
 
 " Thieves I murder I thieves ! " roared the cook. 
 
 " Pollis ! follis I " squeaked the page, rushing frantically out the 
 front way. 
 
 But, before any extraneous assistance could arrive, the redoubtable 
 Wideawake came bounding through the window too ; and the Benicia 
 Boy, seeing his old enemy, rushed at the now open door, passing 
 over the prostrate body of Miss Birch, and making along the passage 
 for the front of the house, without waiting to read the beautiful rain- 
 bow-shaped blue and gold affiehe, Miss Bikch's Finishing and 
 Polishing Academy, exhibited conspicuously in the garden, he cleared 
 the iron rails at a bound, knocking off the hat of the pedestrian post- 
 man as he passed with the letters. The cook then having closed the 
 drawing-room door on Wideawake (who did not like again facing the 
 A'indow), the immediate progress of the chace was arrested. 
 
 The cock-throppled chestnut having got into difficulties, Jack 
 ilogers was glad to catch at a holloa, which led him clear of the small 
 enclosures around Cherryford village ; and now, getting his horn, he 
 clapped forrard with his hounds, to lay them on at the windmill, 
 

 xl 
 
 iS 
 
 •;■ 
 
 4 
 
THE STAG-HUNT. 285 
 
 where the view was just given to the south. Here they hit upon a 
 scent untarnished by Wideawake, who, Jack candidly admitted (in 
 reply to Facey's uncomplimentary observation, that he ought to be 
 hung), was " rather o'er swift o' foot for them that day;" and "Wise- 
 acre led the long-drawn line with his accustomed vigorous energy. But 
 "Wideawake was the dog the Benicia Boy most dreaded, for he was in 
 the habit of haunching him unawares ; whereas Wiseacre, like tho 
 filial Irishman who never kicked his father when he was down, 
 always gave him timely notice of his coming. Still, Wideawake had 
 his use, in keeping the stag going when he might otherwise be 
 inclined to soil or to sulk. Being now pent up at Miss Birch's, the 
 Boy soon found he hadn't him in his wake, and began taking things 
 in the easy, leisurely sort of way that a crow takes a gamekeeper on a 
 Sunday, or a fox trots away before a party of shooters on a week day. 
 There the noble animal might be seen going like a galvanised donkey, 
 now trotting, now bucking, now trotting again ; passing from pasture 
 to fallow, and from fallow to wheat, in the open, undisguised way 
 of a quadruped that is not afraid to be seen. He hasn't robbed 
 a hen-roost, or run away with an old fat goose. He got his living 
 like a gentleman, not like one of those skulking marauders called foxes, 
 who were continually attacking people's poultry, and committing 
 petty larcenies of that sort. He was above such work ; could carry 
 his head high — and high he did carry it. So on he went at a stilty 
 trot as before. 
 
 At length the Benicia Boy, having traversed some eight or nine 
 miles of country, which at the old posting price of eighteen-pence a 
 mile, and three-pence to the driver, would come to some fifteen 
 shillings and nine-pence, possibly bethought him he had done enough 
 for his dinner, and, being no longer tormented by the impetuous Wide- 
 awake, began casting about in search of repose. He did not want to 
 break any more windows, for he thought he had scratched himself in 
 the side at Miss Birch's, and would rather prefer a barn or an out- 
 house with some clean straw in it. So he skirted the side of Hack- 
 berry Hill — half field and half moor — staring complacently round the 
 country in search of what he wanted. There was a church steeple in 
 front, denoting a village, another to the left, with a third in the rear. 
 The latter, however, wouldn't do, for he heard Jack's horn, with the 
 occasional accompaniment of the hounds, — yoou, yoou, yap, yap, yoou, 
 yoou, they went. 
 
 Just at this moment the picturesque outline of Pipeington Tilery 
 presented itself, stretching its long length half across a five- acre field, 
 offering every accommodation, including a mud bath, that an aristo- 
 
2Sb* MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUSES. 
 
 cratic stag could desire ; and thither our unantlered monarch decided 
 on entrenching himself. So, sinking the hill, he struck boldly across 
 country, not trying to take the tilery in the flank, but going right at 
 the centre, spoiling as many green bricks as he could in passing over 
 the drying ground. He then blobbed down into the spacious mud 
 bath between it and the tilery, and began swimming and cooling him- 
 self in its yellow waters. Great was the commotion the descent 
 caused in the tilery. Tom Sparrow, the boy in charge of the pug- 
 mill, who saw him coming, and thought it was Geordy Crosier' s 
 trespassing donkey, now stared as a hen stares when her ducklings 
 take water. The moulders ceased their labours, the wheelers dropped 
 their barrows, the clay-diggers their spades, and the firemen left their 
 furnaces. It was confusion all and consternation. "What the devil 
 was it ? The cry of the hounds and the cheer of the hunters presently 
 enlightened them ; and, looking to the left, they saw the gallant pack 
 streaming down Hackberry Hill, closely followed by Rogers and 
 Romford and the man on the grey. 
 
 " Sink it'll be a stag ! " exclaimed one. 
 
 " So it will ! " roared another. 
 
 " That fat man's from the Nook," rejoined a third. 
 
 "Keep him in! keep him in!" was now the cry, as the Benicia 
 Boy struck out boldly for the tilery. Then they hooted and shooed 
 him, and pelted him with clay. 
 
 If the hounds tailed, so did the field; and Rogers, Jimmy, and 
 Romford alone rode with the pack. 
 
 "He's taken soil!" exclaimed Jack, now pointing with his whip 
 to the tilery commotion, as Romford and he galloped down Hackberry 
 Hill together. 
 
 " Soil, is it ? " said Romford ; "it looks to me very like water." 
 
 "Oh, that's what we stag-hunters call soil," replied Jack, inducting 
 Romford into the science. 
 
 "Do you ? " rejoined Romford, thinking they might as well call it 
 by its right name. 
 
 " For-rard ! for-rard ! " cheered Jack, thinking that Romford can- 
 not fail to be highly delighted with the performance. Jack then looks 
 back for his master. 
 
 And sure enough, on the now almost white-lathered Hatter-his- 
 heart-out, comes the fat boy, puffing and blowing and looking very 
 like a peony. He has indeed had a tremendous gallop, Hatter-his- 
 heart-out having acted well up to his name, and nearly shaken him to 
 pieces. Since our Master, Mr. Stotfold, declined the dangerous in 
 favour of Jack Rogers, he has had a good deal of rough fencing to con- 
 
THE STAG-HUNT. 287 
 
 tend with alone ; none of the leaders of the chace doing much for their 
 followers in the way of breaking the fences, and the heterogeneous 
 group who united their fortunes with his, expecting " red coat" to do 
 nil for them. So he had nothing for it but to throw his magnanimous 
 heart over each fence, and follow it as quickly as ever he could. And 
 though Hatter-his-heart-out was a desperately rough galloper, he was 
 a very smooth leaper; measuring, however, his ground so closely, as 
 always to make the fat boy think he was going to let him down, thus 
 keeping him in a state of constant labour and excitement. 
 
 Indeed but for the honour and credit of the thing, he should have 
 preferred stopping before ; for though it was undoubtedly a good thing 
 to get a good gallop, yet the operation might be over done, and the 
 appetite injured instead of promoted. "What he wanted was, to bring 
 it home with a bloom upon it that would entitle him to oysters and 
 porter and a substantial repast after. That he thought he had got 
 before he came to the windmill, consequently all that had taken place 
 since was what might be called work of supererogation. And now that 
 he saw the prospect of a close, his flagging spirits rose within him, 
 and, getting Hatter-his-heart-out short by the head, he stood in his 
 stirrups giving a squeaking cheer to his followers as he pointed out 
 the strange confusion in the vale below. He then made for the tilery 
 as hard as ever he could. "What a hubbub was there ! Clowns from 
 all parts had turned up to the scene — clowns from the ploughs, clowns 
 from the harrows, clowns from the hedges, just as the roughs turn up in 
 London at the prospect of a row — Willy and Harry and Jackey and all. 
 
 They thought the stag was going to be killed, and that they might 
 come in for a slice. So they hemmed the Benicia Boy in on all sides, 
 determined he shouldn't get away, despite Squeakey's urgent entreaties 
 that they would let him land. Then the before -mentioned rope was 
 produced from Mr. Stotfold's inner pocket, and Hatter-his-heart-out 
 being resigned to a lad, our Master commenced lassoing the stag with 
 clumsy dexterity. Now he was near him, now he was wide ; now he 
 was near him again. At length he lassoed and landed him, amid the 
 cheers of the populace. Instead, however, of sticking and skinning 
 him as the countrymen expected, giving the head to "Willy, the neel 
 to Jackey, and the haunch to Harry, Mr. Stotfold began staring about, 
 squeaking for the carriage. He wanted the old gentleman in green 
 igain. 
 
 " Have you seen my fellow? — have you seen my fellow ?" demanded 
 he, running from party to party. 
 
 " Have you seen my fellow ? " asks he, rushing up to Independent 
 Jimmy, now standing by the side of the panting iron grey. 
 
288 me. facey romfoed's hounds. 
 
 " Nor, arm d — d if iver ar did/' replied Jimmy, bursting into 
 laughter. 
 
 At length the carriage was seen stopping the way at the top of 
 Cinderby Lane, and a man of the place was induced by the promise of 
 a shilling to go and conduct it through the field to the tilery. The 
 while it was jolting its way down the rutty road, nearly tilting old 
 Solomon out of his seat, our fat friend cast about on foot fishing for 
 compliments on the length and severity of the run. 
 
 " Capital (puff) gallop," said he, cooling his cauliflower head by 
 taking off his cap. "Excellent (gasp) run," continued he, mopping 
 his brow with a yellow Bandana. "Never saw the old (puff, gasp,) 
 Benecia Boy in such (puff) before. Can't have come less than twenty 
 miles — twenty (puff) miles in (puff) and twenty minutes." 
 
 Then he approached Mr. Bomford, who he thought ought to have 
 come to him. 
 
 "Well, and what do you (puff) of it?" asked he, stiU continuing 
 the mop of his greatly perspiring brow. 
 
 " Well oi, ha-hem-haw, think it's just about the ha-hem-haw sport 
 oi know," replied Mr. Bomford, adding " oive half a mind to set up. 
 a pack myself to hunt the same day as the foxhounds, in order to : 
 draw off the superfluous of the field." 
 
 And the fat boy, feeling the compliment, but fearing the conse- 
 quences, blurted out in reply — 
 
 " Don't my (gasp) feller, I'll (puff) mine down whenever you 
 (gasp)." 
 
 And thereupon he tendered his fat hand to Romford, who concluded 
 the bargain with a shake. 
 
 The deer -carriage then came jolting down to the tilery, and a feed 
 of oats in front and a kick behind soon sent the Benicia Boy back into 
 the place from whence he came, amid the jeers and cheers of the 
 populace. 
 
 Just then the sound of lamentation arose high above the shouts- 
 and clamour of the crowd. It was Jack Bogers bewailing the loss of 
 his favourite hound, running about wringing his hands, asking if any- 
 one had seen him. " Seen a yellow pied hound with a short tail — a 
 yellow pied hound with a short tail?" But we need scarcely say that 
 nobody at the tilery has, for Miss Birch having kept the redoutable 
 dog safe under lock and key until her strong job gardener came, he. 
 administered such a bastinadoeing as sent the old dog scampering home, 
 with his short tail between his legs, as hard as ever he could. In 
 vain, therefore, Jack whooped and halloaed, and twanged his horn, 
 No Wideawake came. 
 
THE STAG-HaNT. 289 
 
 •' Oh, he'll cast up," at length squeaked Mr. Stotfold, getting tired 
 of the wait. " He'll cast up," repeated he, making for where Flatter- 
 his-heart-out was still being led about by the boy. Then, getting 
 the horse into a clay hole, he made a vigorous assault on the saddle, 
 and, having settled himself in his seat, he chucked the lad a shilling, 
 and drawing his thin reins, with a touch of the spur put his thick 
 horse in motion. 
 
 The hunt was then up; the disappointed chaws returned to their clays 
 and their clods ; anxious Jack Rogers moved off with his hounds, still 
 casting about for the lost one, and Mr. Romford was surprised to learn 
 from Independent Jimmy that they were only five or six miles from 
 Dalberry Lees. 
 
 " Ar'll show you the way," said Jimmy, jumping on to the bare- 
 backed grey ; and taking a line of his own, irrespective of either gatea 
 or gaps, he proceeded to make his way across country. 
 
 " Ar think nout o' this stag-huntin'," observed Jimmy, running the 
 grey at a great on-and-off bank, with a wide ditch on each side. 
 
 "Nor I," rejoined Mr. Romford, following him. 
 
 " "When you've catched the stag, ye're ne better off than ye were 
 afore," observed Jimmy. 
 
 " Just so," said Romford. 
 
 Jimmy then angled a wide pasture at a trot, and was presently con- 
 templating a rough, bush- entwined, rail-mended fence with a too 
 obvious brook on the far side. Jimmy ran the grey at a rail, but, 
 hitting it with its fore feet, it landed on its head, shooting Jimmy 
 well over it. 
 
 " Greate numb beast !" exclaimed Jimmy, jumping up and catching 
 the horse as it rose. He then pulled the rail out for Romford. 
 
 A few more fields brought them to where Jimmy had placed his 
 second horse ; which now having reached, he prepared to resuscitate the 
 melon-frame, leaving Mr. Romford to pursue his journey without him. 
 
 " Ye can't miss yer way," said Jimmy, jerking his head in the direc- 
 tion of Dalberry Lees. " Ye can't miss yer way. Just keep axin for the 
 biggest feuil in the country, and they'll be sure to send yer to Lees." 
 So saying, he gave our Master a nod, and turned away to the right. 
 
 Mr. Romford then rode on, and having a good eye for country, soon 
 took his bearings, and without troubling any of the country people 
 with the inquiry Jimmy propounded, speedily found his way back to the 
 glittering gates. Then having arrived at the house, he alighted at the 
 front door and desired a footman to take the horse round to the stable ; 
 which saved him an interview with Gullpicker, Mr. "Watkins's Melton 
 groom, whom nobody would have at Melton. Then Miss met him, all 
 
 v 
 
290 MR. FACET ROMFORD'S HOUNDS. 
 
 radiant with smiles, so glad to see him safe back ; mamma was delighted 
 to hear Mr. Romford say he was much amused with the hunt, ami 
 altogether she thought they had made a great hit in having the fat 
 boy down. And out came the flute and the harp for " Bob Ridley." 
 
 CHAPTER LIV. 
 
 MR. STANLEY STERLING. 
 
 Mr. Facet Romford had now got pretty well settled in his saddle 
 in Doubleimupshire. He had seen most of the great guns of the 
 country : the "Watkinses and the teapot -handle man, and had now 
 extended his acquaintance to the fat boy and the interesting family of the 
 neighbouring master of hounds, Mr. Haze}-. He had also established 
 a nodding and "how-are-ye" acquaintance with the non- hunting 
 Fuller, and Fowler, and Binks, and Brown, and Postle, and Huckle- 
 bridge, whom he prudently sir'd or mister' d in blank, instead of 
 risking a shot at their names, and perhaps making a bad hit. There is 
 nothing people dislike so much as being misnamed. 
 
 The country, if not first-rate, was fairly sporting : good enough for 
 those who lived in and knew it, and yet not good enough to tempt 
 peripatetic sportsmen out of their ways, unless, indeed, they happened 
 to have a billet with some one in it. This immunity from strangers 
 was a great comfort to Mr. Romford, for some men are troubled with 
 such a mania for pack-seeing, that there is no saying but an inquisitive 
 stranger might have strayed from the other Mr. Romford's, and insti- 
 tuted an invidious comparison between our Master and him. Not that 
 any one could take exception to our friend's hounds, or his horses, or 
 his system of hunting ; but they might have raised the question, which 
 was the right Romford ? — asserted, perhaps, that Facey was not the 
 man who lived at Abbeyfield Park, which would have been very dis- 
 couraging and difficult to gainsay. A master of hounds ought not to- 
 have his attention distracted by extraneous matter — especially a master 
 hunting his own hounds, as our friend did. 
 
 Like most countries, Doubleimupshire varied a good deal : some 
 parts of it being good, some of it indifferent, and much of it bad. 
 The low-lands were deep and boggy, with great false-bottomed drains, 
 large enough to hold both horse and rider ; but, then, these very drains 
 
MIL STANLEY STERLING. 291 
 
 contributed to the sound riding of the up-lands, they being, in fact, 
 the receivers and conveyers of the superfluous water that fell. Then 
 there were the Bentley hills, over which hounds raced; and the 
 Heckington and Stanborough vales, where they dwelt, requiring all 
 the Romford science and energy to get them along. Taking the 
 country, however, as a whole, the soil was favourable to scent, as the 
 staple of it was generally good. And Romford's hounds could solve 
 the difficult problem, " AVhich way has he gone ? " in most parts of it. 
 
 The best part of the country, undoubtedly, lies between Shervington 
 Bridge and the town of Farming-ton Hill ; but, then, it was infested 
 by game preservers, who were generally suspected of Dalberry Lees 
 practices, with regard to the illicit production of foxes. Formerly, 
 three fields out of every four in this part were ploughed ; but, since 
 the repeal of the corn laws, the system has been reversed, and three 
 fields are now in old grass or clover ley, for one that is under the 
 plough. The enclosures, too, are large and roomy — twenty and 
 thirty acres each, with not over and above strong fences ; but the land 
 13 deep and holding — or what Mr. Otto Musk, the Leicestershire 
 swell who got straggled there, once described as "flat, dirty, and 
 unpleasant." Still, there were no fences mended with old wire-rope 
 in it, and the brooks are generally fairly jumpable — at least, when not 
 flooded. 
 
 But we will indulge in a day in this the most favoured locality, and 
 eelect a meet at Independent Jimmy's friend, Mr. Stanley Sterling's, 
 he being about the only real sportsman on that side of the country. 
 
 Mr. Sterling was a comfortable man, and was waited upon by a woman. 
 After that, we need scarcely say he was a bachelor : for where is the 
 lady who will submit to be tended by one of her own sex, if she can 
 possibly help it? Well, Mr. Stanley Sterling was a comfortable 
 man, and was waited upon by a woman. He lived at a pretty, old- 
 fashioned, gable-ended, grey -roofed place, called Rosemount Grange : 
 where there was always a spare stall for a horse, and a hearty welcome 
 for a friend. Moreover, there was generally a good wild fox to be 
 found in his cover, Light-thorn-rough, at the back of the house, the 
 next morning. 
 
 Let us also suppose that Mr. Facey Romford — lured, perhaps, by 
 the fame of Mr. Stanley Sterling's nutty sherry, ruby port, and 
 comfortable menage generally — has come over to Rosemount to be 
 handy for the meet on the morrow; and that Mr. Freeman, of 
 Shenstone Burn, commonly called Old Saddlebags, and the clergyman 
 of the parish, form the parti quarre, for the evening. 
 
 Freeman, who is hard upon eighty years of age, has hunted all his 
 
 17 2 
 
£92 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 life, and looks more like sixty than what he really is. He is a stout, 
 square-built man, ■with silvery -white hair, shading an extremely 
 rubicund face, with strongly-marked lines, and whipcord-like muscles : 
 a little, twinkling, grey eye, lights up an intelligent countenance. 
 
 In marching order — that is to say, the day before hunting — Mr. 
 Freeman travels in his red coat and other hunting things, having his 
 horse-ru"- rolled up before him, and the aforesaid saddlebags, contain- 
 ing his dress things, underneath him. Thus accoutred, he makes for 
 the house of the nearest acquaintance he has to the meet, where Bags 
 and his horse are always heartily welcome. Compared with the 
 pyramids of luggage with which a modern exquisite travels, Saddle- 
 bags' wardrobe would seem strangely deficient ; but Bags had lived in 
 times when locomotion was difficult, and people had to think what 
 they could do without, and not what they could do with —which, after 
 all, is a great ingredient in travelling. 
 
 And yet to see the old gentleman come down in his nice black dress- 
 coat, frilled shirt, and clean vest — the latter vying the whiteness of 
 his hair — with black shorts, silk stockings, and pumps, no one would 
 suppose but he had come in his carriage, with a valet to boot. There 
 he stands before Mr. Stanley Sterling's bright parlour-fire with a beech- 
 log on the top, as radiant and sparkling as the fuel itself. There, too, 
 is Mr. Romford, looking him over, thinking what a man he is for his 
 years ; and now in comes the Reverend Mr. Teacher, the vicar, and the 
 party is complete. 
 
 Mr. Stanley Sterling did not attempt side-dishes, but let his cook 
 concentrate her talents upon a few general favourites. Hence, the 
 ox-tail soup was always beautifully clear and hot, the crimped-cod 
 and oyster-sauce excellent, while the boiled fowls and ruddy ham ran 
 a close race with the fuur -year-old leg of roast mutton, leaving the 
 relish they give for the "sweet or dry" to support their claims to 
 preference. Beet and mealy potatoes accompanied the solids, and 
 maccaroni and mince-pies followed in due course. A bottle of Beau- 
 jolais circulated with the cheese. They had then all dined to their 
 hearts' content. As Romford chucked his napkin in a sort of happy- 
 go-lucky way over his left shoulder, he thought how much better it 
 was than any of the grand spreads he had seen. Grace being said, 
 the plate-warmer was then taken from the fire, the horseshoe -table sub- 
 stituted, and each man prepared to make himself comfortable according 
 to his own peculiar fashion. 
 
 And as each succeeding glass of bright port wine circulated down 
 Mr. Saddlebags' vest, the old man warmed with sporting recollections 
 until he became a perfect chronicle of the chase. He seemed to 
 
MR. STANLEY STERLING. 293 
 
 r 3meraber everything — when Mr. Princeps had the Hard and Sharps 
 — when Mr. Tedbury had the Larkspur — when Sir Thomas Twyford 
 had a third pack that hunted all the country east of Homdean Hut, 
 and so across by Broad Halfpenny woodlands to the town of Cross 
 Hands in Marshdale. Then he got upon the subject of runs. That 
 ^•tfmendous run from Trouble House to Wooton Wood, eighteen miles 
 as the crow flies, when nobody could get near the hounds for the last 
 two miles save little Jim, the second whip, on a Pretender mare — the 
 best animal that ever was foaled — no fence too large or day too long 
 for her. Or that Munificent day from Scotgrove-hill to AVellingore, 
 when some of the crack men of the Hot and Heavy Hunt were out, 
 and they ran from scent to view in the middle of Heatherwick Moor, 
 thirteen miles, without allowing for bends, — the finest men with the 
 finest finish that ever was seen ! To all which Mr. Romford sat listen- 
 ing as he would to a lecture. Facey dearly loved to pick up such 
 stories at the end of a stinger. He kept weeding his chin till he almost 
 made it sore. 
 
 Dinner having been at six, at nine o'clock precisely — for foxhunters 
 are generally pretty punctual — Bridget the maid re-entered the room 
 with the tea-tray, just as the second bottle of port was finished, thus 
 putting a stop to the veteran's recitals and causing him to fall back on 
 the sherry. A game of whist followed tea, and Mr. Teacher having 
 taken his departure, Mr. Facey retired to his comfortable couch with 
 five shillings more in his pocket than he brought. " Not a bad night's 
 work," muttered our Master, as he added a couple of shillings to it 
 that he had of his own. He never gave house-servants anything, 
 alleging that he could take care of himself, — nor stable ones either, if 
 he thought his horses would fare as well without his doing so. 
 
CHAPTER LV. 
 
 5IE. STANLEY STEELING S FOX. 
 
 Breakfast at Rosemount Grange was conducted pretty much on the 
 London Club principle, each guest having his separate menage, viz., 
 two teapots, one containing the beverage, the other the bot water, a 
 small glass basin of sugar, a ditto butter-boat, and cream -ewer, toge- 
 ther with a muffin or bun, and a rack of dry toast. A common coffee- 
 pot occupied the centre of the round-table, flanked on tbe one side with 
 a well filled egg-stand, and on tbe other with a dish of beautiful moor- 
 edge honey. On the side-table were hot meats and cold, with the 
 well-made household bread. Hence, each man, on coming down, rang 
 for his own supply without reference to any one else — a great conve- 
 nience to foxhunters, who like riding leisurely on instead of going full 
 tilt to cover. 
 
 On this auspicious day, however, it was " all serene," as old Saddle- 
 bags said, the Master being in the house, and the hounds having to 
 meet before the door ; so they dawdled and talked as people do who are 
 not in a hurry and are sure of being in time. Mr. Romford was the 
 only one who felt any concern, but his was not the uneasiness caused 
 by the fear of unpunctuality, but alarm lest the redoubtable servants 
 should arrive in a state of inebriety. Lucy, however, had undertaken 
 to see them safe away from Beldon Hall, and the strong persevering 
 man who bought Mr. Romford's horse was charged to look after them 
 on the road. And very creditably they both fulfilled their mission, 
 for as our Master was deeply absorbed in the dissection of a woodcock's 
 leg, the click of a gate attracted his attention, and looking up he saw 
 the gay cavalcade pass along the little bridge over the brook into the 
 front field, in very creditable form — Swig sitting bolt upright on his 
 horse, and Chowey preparing his succulent mouth for fawning opera- 
 tions on the field. 
 
 The sight acted electrically on the party : Mr. Sterling finished his 
 tea, Mr. Romford took the woodcock leg in his fingers, and old Bags 
 quaffed off his half-cup of coffee at a draught. They were then pre- 
 sently up and at the window. Bridget went out with the bread, 
 cheese, and ale on a tray, while Mr. Sterling unlocked the cellaret, and 
 
MR. STANLEY STERLING'S FOX. 295 
 
 produced cherry brandy and liquors far those who chose to partake 
 of tlam. In came Bonus, and Dennis, and Bankford, and two or 
 three other never-miss-a-ehancers. Meanwhile our host and his guests 
 are off to the stable, where the horses are turned round in the stalls 
 all ready for a start. They mount and away, Romford on the Baker, 
 late Placid Joe, Bags on his eighteen-y ears-old bay horse, still called 
 the "colt," and Mr. Sterling on a five-year-old iron grey of his own 
 breeding. Thus they come round to the front, to receive the " sky 
 scrapes" of the men, and the " mornins " and "how areye's?" of 
 the field. Then more horsemen came cantering up, and more went 
 into the house. At length the time being up — say a quarter to eleven 
 — and Mr. Facey making it a rule never to wait for unpunctual 
 people, be their subscriptions ever so large, now gives a significant 
 jerk of his head to Swig, which, communicating itself to Chowey, the 
 two instantly have their horses by the head with the lively hounds 
 bourding and frolicking forward the way the horses are going. The 
 foot -people run and open the white gates, the parti-coloured caval- 
 cade follow in long-drawn file, and the whole are presently in front of 
 Light- thorn-rough — a cover so near the house and yet so secluded as 
 almost to look like part of the premises. A deep triangular dell of 
 some three acres in extent, abounding in blackthorn, gorse, broom, 
 and fern, presenting in every part dry and most unexceptionable lying, 
 The bridle-gate leading to it was always kept locked, and there was 
 no foot-road within three quarters of a mile of it. Here indeed a fox 
 might repose. Some persons are always certain that covers will hold 
 a fox — even though they may have been shooting in them the day 
 before — and keep repeating and reiterating the assertion up to the very 
 moment of testing its accuracy. "Sure to be there! — sure to be 
 there ! Certain as if I saw him ! " perhaps with a view of hiding their 
 delinquency. Mr. Stanley Sterling was not one of the positive order. 
 He knew the nature of his wild animal too well to be bail for his 
 appearance. So in answer to numerous inquiries if they are likely to 
 find, he merely says he " hopes so," and then takes up a quiet 
 position for a view, a point from whence he can see without being 
 seen himself. 
 
 " Cover hoick ! — cover hoick ! " now cries Mr. Facey Romford, and 
 in an instant he has not a hound at his horse's heels. The " Hurl's " 
 man, and the man with the mouth too, have deserted him, the former 
 to take up a position by the beeches above, the latter to hide his ugly 
 face in the dip of the dell. 
 
 " Eleu in there! — eleuinf" cheers our Master, as Gamester and 
 Woodbine take a flourish towards a slope of close-looking gorse. 
 
296 MR. FACEY ROMFOED's HOUNDS. 
 
 " Very likely place to hold a fox," observed he to himself, pulling a 
 sample out of his beard and inspecting it. " Please, gentlemen, keep 
 together! and don't holloa!" now cries he, looking round at the 
 chatterers, — Mr. Bonus asking after Mrs. Hemming's horse, Mr. 
 Daniel Dennis wondering if it was going to rain. He has got his best 
 coat on, and forgotten to look at his weathercock to see whether it is 
 a safe venture or not. 
 
 Like the Ashby Pasture gorse in Nimrod's celebrated Leicestershire 
 run, the cover soon begins to shake in various parts, the obvious effect 
 of some twenty couple of hounds rummaging about it. The vibration 
 increases with more activity towards the juniper bushes in the centre 
 of the cover. 
 
 " Have at 't?n there/" cheers Mr. Romford, with a crack of his 
 whip, as if to awake a sleeping fox from his trance. " Have at 'im 
 there /" repeats he, in a still louder key, now standing erect in his 
 stirrups, contemplating the rich sea of bright undulating gorse. The 
 vibration of the bushes increases, varied with the slight crackle from 
 the snapping of rotten branches in the more open parts " Pox, for a 
 'underd," muttered Mr. Pomford, now buttoning the second top 
 button of his "Tick" — "Pox, for a 'underd!" repeats he, and 
 scarcely are the words well out of his mouth ere the short sharp yap, 
 yap, of Pincher the terrier is followed by the deep sonorous voice of 
 old Thunderer proclaiming the fact. " Hoick to Thunderer ! hoick!" 
 cheers Mr. Romford, now standing on tip-toe in his stirrups, gazing 
 intently on the scene, his eyes raking every corner of the cover, like 
 Daniel Porester's on dividend-day. 
 
 And now the melody increases — twofold, threefold, fourfold, five- 
 fold, tenfold — now it's all melody together — 
 
 " More nobly full and swell' d with every mouth," 
 
 as Somerville — not our fair friend, but the poet — sings. 
 
 "Now," as Romford asks, "where are all your sorrows and your 
 cares, ye gloomy souls ! or where your pains and aches, ye complain- 
 ing ones ! One holloa will presently dispel them all." 
 
 "Hark! there it is! Talli-ho ! a-w-a-ay ! Talli-ho a-w-a-a-y — 
 a-w-a-ay ! " The " away" stretched to the length of the rope-walk. 
 It's Daniel, the Right Honourable the Hurl of Scamperdale's Daniel, 
 holloaing at the very top of his husky voice, each succeeding note 
 becoming louder and better. 
 
 And now little Tom Chavey unfurls at once his proboscis and his 
 flail -like whip, and with repeated " Get away, hounds ! — get away!"' 
 
MR. STANLEY STERLING'S FOX. 297 
 
 seconds the sporting-like twang of Mr. Romford's horn. Then what a 
 scatter there is of the late combined forces. The late clustered phalanx 
 is dissolved ; its component parts are flying here, there, and everywhere, 
 each man looking after his own particular leader, to whom he trusts 
 for that knowledge of the country that his flurry effaces. Where's 
 Jack? Where's Joe? Where's Tom? Then Mr. Saddlebags rises 
 greatly in public estimation, and whispers are heard among the un- 
 initiated of " Stick to old Bags ! " — "Follow Bags ! " — " Bags knows 
 every inch of the country." And the Octogenarian gets the colt by 
 the head and slips out at a corner into the grass fields on the left of 
 the cover. There he commands the pack as they break — Thunderer 
 first, Resolute next, Prodigal third, all the rest in a lump. Thun- 
 derer strikes the scent by the side of the wall, Prodigal endorses his 
 dictum, and the rest of the pack adopt the same. Away they go like 
 beans And just at the critical moment the Honorary Secretary, 
 who is riding a bay runaway with a dead side to its mouth, 
 which has passed through half the hands in the country, gets the 
 Pelham bit between its teeth, and charges into the thick of them, 
 knocking over Rosamond and Rallywood, and scattering the rest right 
 and left. 
 
 " Rot ye ! " roars Romford, flourishing his whip, as he bounds over 
 the stone wall that separates them — "Rot ye! what are ye after 
 now? C-o-r-n-found ye, you riband -dealer," adds he, as he gets up to 
 him, "what brings yer out here?" exclaiming with a scowl, as he 
 passes on, " you should be condemned to shop with two old maids for 
 a month ! " 
 
 Then, as the astonished hounds get themselves scrambled up, and 
 the pack gathered together, our Master caps them on to where a 
 countryman is holloaing the line of the fox from a gate. 
 
 "That's him! — that's him!" shouts the man, as Traveller and 
 Trumpeter strike the scent just as the body of the pack come up, 
 ■when, heads and tails being again united, and the scent first-rate, 
 every hound settles to his fox, and away they go with the stream of 
 the chase up at very high pressure. " Away ! — away ! " is the cry. 
 The hounds seem to fly over the country like pigeons, now at Oak- 
 forth Green, now at Broadpool Banks, and anon at the wooden bridge 
 over the Brent. Romford is with them; Swig and Chowey not far 
 off; and Stanley Sterling is a little on the left, each going on his own 
 particular line. The Baker has had the benefit of two holding clayey- 
 fallows, and may now resume the taking name of Placid Joe, while 
 Mr. Sterling's five-year-old grey, after a few tail-first presentations, 
 begins to face his fences, and seems to enter into the spirit of the 
 
298 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 thing, He gathers courage as he goes. That is more, however, than 
 some of the field do, for Bonus and Brankford, and two or three others 
 who started with the hounds, thinking it was a case of plain sailing, 
 hegin to tail off as fences supersede field-gates, and occupation-roads 
 run out into the privacy of fold -yards. Then there is a grand diver- 
 gence either to the Corsenside Lane, down which Mr. Saddlebags' 
 broad back may be seen hustling along in extremis, or in the direction 
 of Heathery Top, towards which Mr. Hubbock, the fat farmer, is 
 gallantly leading. Either way will bring them to Berrington Hill, 
 for which, if the fox is not pointing, he " did ought to be." But the 
 leaders are right ! Ah, yonder yokel, leaning on his plough-stilts, 
 has seen hiin pass through the sheep on the netted-off turnips, sending 
 the stupid muttons scampering together in a crowd. Now they wheel 
 about as if they are going to charge. Chaw holloas at the top of his 
 voice, regardless of the fact that the hounds are in as full cry as the 
 racing nature of the pace will admit. 
 
 "Hold your row!" shouts Mr. Romford, brandishing his whip, 
 but he might as well speak to the winds. The hounds, however, heed 
 him not, and bustle forward on the scent with lively intrepidity — now 
 Liberty leading, now Lucifer, now Old Sportsman coming to the front 
 with his unerring nose. A sheet could cover them. Facey eyes them 
 with pleasurable emotion, for he knows he has at least one man in the 
 field who will appreciate their performance. 
 
 "For-rard! — For-rard! that's the way of him!" shrieks he, as 
 they again stretch into telescopic point towards the head. "There 
 they go for the Darby ! " shouts he. 
 
 Now he takes a startling stone-wall, at which the Baker bounds so 
 as to hit his rider's head against the branch of an impending ash and 
 knocks his old hat right down over his nose. 
 
 "Rot the beggar!" exclaims Romford, spurring him across a 
 rough fallow, extricating his head as he goes. He is now with the 
 sheep and the chaw. The hounds rather falter on the turnips from the 
 stain of the former, and the latter would infallibly have exercised his 
 lungs again, only Mr. Romford, keeping outside the nets, holds up his 
 hand and enjoins him to silence, threatening to cram his whip down 
 his throat. Old Sportsman applies himself diligently to the dilemma, 
 and presently pilots them on to pure ground beyond. 
 
 " That's the way on 'im ! " cries chaw, unable to contain his 
 delight. 
 
 " Oi know it," retorts Romford, digging his spurs freely into the 
 Baker. 
 
 The hounds snatch themselves into progression, and away they 
 
JIK. STANLEY STERLING'S FOX. 299 
 
 strive as before, — Liberty leading, with Lucifer and Lavender con- 
 tending for places. They are all of this year's entry — or rather 
 stealing — and he couldn't have had better if he'd bought them. 
 
 "What's the use o' botherin' and breedin' and buyin'," thinks 
 Facey, eyeing them, "if ye can have such as these for axin' for? 
 For-rard ! " cheers he, " for-rard ! " as Benedict and Brilliant now 
 press to the front. "For-rard, all on ye ! Wouldn't take a hatful 
 o' money for ye ! " adds he, now sousing himself luxurious^ into his 
 ^apacious saddle. The Baker and he have fairly settled the moot 
 question, which is master, and go quite amicably together. 
 
 Meanwhile the Mc Adamites and riders to points ponred on in theii 
 respective pilgrimages, each hoping to jnmp with the hounds at some 
 convenient point or other of the now prosperous chase, and be able to 
 say they were well up at Howell Burn, or close to the hounds down 
 Dovecot Lane. 
 
 This independent customer of a fox, however, we are sorry to say, 
 did not conform to the long established custom of the country, and 
 instead of crossing Farryclough Fields, through Winforth Big, and out 
 at the back of Mr. Heavycrop's farm at Milkhope, which would have 
 joined Saddlebags' tail at Monkridge side-bar and Hubbock' s a little 
 farther on, with head in air and distended brush, he took over the 
 fine grassy moorland country, straight for Boughficld Hill, some 
 three miles to the north ; and the farther Bags and Hubbock went, 
 the farther they got apart from the pack. At length, pulling 
 up on Marygate Green, Mr. Saddlebags, shading the sun from his 
 eyes, sees the last of the field disappearing over the brow of Bavens- 
 doune Hill, each individual horseman looking about the size of a 
 marble. 
 
 " Bad job," muttered the old man, pulling the colt short round, 
 amid the " Which way-ings ?" the "Oh dear-ings ! " and " What a 
 bore-ings ! " of his followers. A pilot, like a prophet, never gets 
 thanked. If he rides his tail right, they take the credit of it them- 
 selves ; if wrong, then they blow him up sky high. " Bad job," muttered 
 old Bags, putting the colt at a stiffish, newly-switched fence. " Come 
 up ! " exclaimed he, spurring him freely, as the old horse winced and 
 intimated his objection to the thorns. Then, perhaps thinking the 
 fence the lesser evil of the two, he just bucked himself over into the 
 next field. Bags then saw his line, and set off as hard as ever his 
 horse could lay legs to the ground. Some follow, some say he is an 
 old fool, and pull up, having had enough of the fray. Hubbock then 
 takes another line, sorely pressed by his partisans. 
 
 Meanwhile, without the slightest regard to the ease or convenience 
 
300 MR. FACEY fiOMFORD's HOUNDS. 
 
 of his followers, this truly game fox proceeds at the most punishing 
 pace through the open-bottomed fir woods of Brakenside Law, without 
 dwelling a moment, and onward?, still pointing north, up a portion of 
 Kidland Hill, from whence a commanding view of the surrounding 
 country is obtained. Here, having apparently surveyed the 
 
 "Strange confusion in the vale belof," 
 
 heard the distant cry of the hounds, the cheer of the hunters, and 
 taken his bearings, he had apparently come to the conclusion that he 
 would be safer in a country that he knew than in taking a turn over 
 the other side of the hill on which he now stood. True, he had been 
 there once or twice on predatory excursions ; but when a fox is 
 encumbered with an old fat hen or a goose on his back, he hasn't time 
 to pick his way to the best advantage. So our friend thought he 
 wouldn't venture any further that way. And being a fox of a good 
 deal of decision and much firmness of purpose, he immediately turned 
 his head to the west, and, running along a convenient sheep track, had 
 a fine panoramic view of the trouble they were taking to catch him, — 
 the clamorous hounds still pressing on in a cluster, Mr. Romford 
 yoicking and cheering them, Mr. Stanley Sterling in close attend- 
 ance on Romford, Daniel Swig and Chowey riding side by side, and 
 two or three horsemen — one in scarlet, two in dark clothes — labouring 
 and sorrowing after them, inwardly wishing the hounds would throw 
 up. Enough is as good as a feast, thought they. Then along a sandy 
 streak, denoting the township road between "Wandon and Ratchford, 
 might have been seen, if he had not been in too great a hurry 
 to look, the broad black back of Mr. Hubbock, leading the variegated 
 posse comitatus ; while the fortunate Bags creeps up with his 
 cohort along the more favourable line of "VVoodridge and Stobfield 
 House. 
 
 But a southerly wind wafts the melody of the hounds stronger and 
 fresher than our friend likes to hear it, and not wishing to give his 
 pursuers the unnecessary trouble of eating him, he casts the country 
 quickly through his mind, and resolves to be indebted to his old friend, 
 the badger at Brockholes, for shelter and hospitality. So, stealing 
 quietly down the hill, and crossing the Bowershield Road unseen, he 
 runs the "flat, dirty, and unpleasant" plain, with its holding drains 
 and deep ravines. Then, having exhausted its conveniences, he creeps 
 aver the marshes to Ewesley, and at the back of the " Punch Bowl " 
 at Newfold. So he makes a wide circle of Birdshope, skirting the 
 tempting glades of Rosserton Wood, which, however, he is too hot to 
 
Mil. STANLEY" STERLING'S FOX. 301 
 
 enter; and, skirting its eastern corner, he conies in sight of his pro- 
 jected point, the badger's burrow at Erockholes. 
 
 If the badger is at home, he may have a fight for the berth ; but 
 still that is infinitely preferable to being dis-brushed, dismembered, 
 and who-hoopd by Mr. Facey Romford and his curs. So, putting his 
 best leg first — and he had four uncommonly good ones — he tottled 
 away in right energetic earnest, stopping occasionally as he reached 
 rising ground to listen what was going on behind. At first he thinks 
 " all is serene," then that he hears the noisy wretches far behind, 
 next that they are coming his way, and finally, that he had better be 
 going. So away he trots as before. And at a good, steady, holding 
 pace, never fatiguing himself, but husbanding his strength, lest he 
 should either have to fight at the door or pass on in search of repose. 
 He presently reaches the sandy, oak-root-entwined entrance at the 
 high point of Thristleton "Wood, where, with right foot erect, he 
 pauses for an instant and listens, to be quite sure that the hounds are 
 coming. He thinks not. All is still. They have apparently had 
 enough of it. Not the first time he has beaten a pack of hounds. Yet 
 hark ! Yap, yap, yough, yough ' — Forrard ! for-rard ! there they 
 are again. Confound their pertinacity ! how they stick to a fellow's 
 tail. What a shame ! Forty great hounds setting upon one fox. 
 But it was no time for moralising ; so, being at the mouth of the 
 badger's earth, he just popped in, taking his chance of a fight at 
 the door. 
 
 Fortunately for our fox, the badger was a great fat plethoric 
 animal, fond of ease and good living, and having several chambers to 
 his burrow, he had laid up in an inner one, so that our friend had 
 nothing to do but pop into an unoccupied room near the entrance. 
 He was an unsociable badger, and seldom saw company. And scarcely 
 had our fox got himself suited, than the loud baying of a hound filled 
 the whole cavern with noise, causing the badger to growl and plant 
 his great head at his bedroom door for self-defence. And further 
 withdrawn, but still most uncomfortably near, arose the general 
 clamour of the pack, the whole now crowned with stentorian yells of 
 " "Who — hoop ! " and " who-hoop ! " It was the voice of old Romford, 
 backed by those of Chowey and Swig, and the badger, being now fully 
 alive to his situation, makes a vigorous dash at the intruder in his 
 entrance hall, and sends Ringwood yelping and yammering out to his 
 comrades. 
 
 Then there was a council of war what to do, some wanting the fox 
 dug, others " let alone," in the course of which Mr. Romford's 
 opinion was loudly appealed to. 
 
302 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 " He's a rare good un," exclaimed Mr. Stanley Sterling, anxious 
 for his preservation. 
 
 "Is that!" gasped the chairman of the Half-Guinea Hat Com- 
 pany. 
 
 " Dig him ! dig him ! by all means," shouted several. 
 
 "Take an hour to do it," observed Mr. Hubbock; "this is the 
 badger's burrow, and it branches out in all directions — reaches from 
 here to Con-stan-tinople." 
 
 " Oh, blood your hounds, by all means ! " exclaimed Bonus ; adding, 
 "they richly deserve their fox." 
 
 " Blood 'em another day," muttered Mr. Komford — " blood 'em 
 another day with a bad un. Doesn't do to be prodigal of good uns." 
 So saying, with a " Cop, come away ! — cop, come away !" to his bay- 
 ing hounds, he proceeded to reclaim the now panting tail-quivering 
 Baker. 
 
 Then the appraisers began to estimate the run — time, distance, 
 ditches, difficulties generally. One said it was one thing, another 
 another, but they all agreed that it was extremely quick, and the 
 fences terrible. A man who could ride over that country, could ride 
 over any. 
 
 " An hour and seven minutes, 'zactly," observed Chowey, the time- 
 keeper of the hunt, putting on ten minutes for good measure. 
 
 " "Without a single real check, only two hesitations of about a 
 minute each," observed Mr. Bomford. 
 
 "Far the best to save him," observed Mr. Sterling, quietly; "far 
 the best to save him — give us a good run another day." 
 
 "So it is," replied Mr. Bomfbrd ; "so it is. Good foxes are 
 becomin' very scarce — far too many Leadenhallers astir. Now, where 
 shall we go for another draw ?" asked he, thinking to try their mettle, 
 not that he really meant to draw. 
 
 " Oh, done enough ! done enough ! " exclaimed several. " Leave 
 weU alone — leave well alone — capital day's sport — horses done enough 
 — hounds done enough — aU done enough." 
 
 "Well, then, which is my shortest way home?" demanded Mr. 
 Bomford, mounting his horse and casting about for a landmark. 
 
 " Can't do better than return with me," said Mr. Stanley Sterling, 
 " and take a snack as you pass." 
 
 " Thank' e, I've got a captin i' my pocket," replied our Master, pro- 
 ducing a great ship biscuit as he spoke ; adding, " but are we stiB in 
 Doubleimupshire ?" 
 
 "Quite the extremity of it," replied Mr. Sterling, "quite the 
 extremity of it. Close to what they call JSb Man's Land." 
 
MR. STANLEY STERLING'S FOX. 303 
 
 " No man's stop either, oi 'sposc," muttered our Master, thinking 
 of the fox having got to ground in his country. 
 
 " Now, then," continued he to Chowey, who was trying to insinuate 
 himself into Mr. Saddlebags' pocket, under pretence of a former ac- 
 quaintanceship — " Now, then, let's be going." So saying, there was 
 a general sweep of the hounds, and horses' heads were turned to the 
 south. 
 
 " I'll show you the short way through the fields, if you'll allow 
 me now," said Mr. Sterling, putting himself a little in advance of the 
 pack. 
 
 "Please," said Mr. Romford, who liked soft riding. 
 
 Mr. Sterling then proceeded to pilot him along Buttercup Pasture, 
 through Farmer Rickstone's fold-yard, up Bushblades Banks to the 
 " Good Intent" inn, on the "Woodberry Down Road. From thence an 
 extensive view of the neighbouring country is obtained; Dozey 
 Cathedral one way, Downley Castle another, Ritlington Clump a 
 third. 
 
 " Now," said Mr. Sterling, pulling up short and addressing Mr. 
 Romford — " Now, your way is along this Holly Hill Road to Harper- 
 town — there, you see the steeple straight before you ; then ask your way 
 to the 'Fox and Hounds' at Mowlesley, and Mr. Gallon, the land- 
 lord, will direct you to Fleckney, from whence you will have no 
 difficulty in finding your way to Beldon Hall. So now I'll bid you 
 good day," continued Mr. Sterling, taking off his doeskin glove and 
 tendering his hand to our Master; adding, " I'll be glad to see you at 
 my place overnight the next time you come to draw my cover;" 
 adding, " we'll have that badger burrow fired, or made safe some- 
 how." 
 
 "Thank ye," said Mr. Romford, joining hands — "thank ye;" 
 adding, " I'll beat up your quarters, and we'll see if we can't prevent 
 his gettin' to Constantinople another time." So saying the horses' 
 heads diverged, under sky-scraping salutes from Chowey and Swig, 
 Chowey telling Swig, as he unfurled his mouth with a grin, that, 
 if he wasn't mistaken, he had seen that ere gent in Snoremborem- 
 shire. 
 
 They then proceeded with a greatly reduced cavalcade, which kept 
 further diminishing by withdrawals at various way-side houses. At 
 length Mr. Romford and his men had the road to themselves, and our 
 Master conned over the run as he went, thinking with delight of the 
 performance of the pack. If they were not the best in England, they 
 were not far off, he thought. 
 
 And the badger presently looking out of his door, and seeing the 
 
304 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 coast clear, retired with a grunt to his bedroom, thinking what a 
 punishment he had given the intruder ; while the fox, taking a quiet 
 survey from the door, also trotted leisurely off without saying " good 
 morning," or thanking his host for his hospitality. And the fox slept 
 that night at Rockwood Law, the next at Bowershield, and returned 
 in due time to his old quarters in Light-thorn-rough. He didn't see 
 any he liked better, and found that all places were more or less liable 
 to be disturbed ; Light-thorn-rough, perhaps, as little as any. So he 
 again adopted it for better or for worse, as the saying is. 
 
 CHAPTER LVI. 
 
 MISS BETSEY SHANNOJT. 
 
 The mention of mince-pies in a previous chapter will have prepared 
 the reader for the near approach of Christmas : that festive season, 
 when children come smiling home, with long bills in their boxes to 
 lengthen their parents' faces ; when unexpected and most- wonderfully- 
 lengthened accounts come pouring in apace, and enterprising Ticks 
 and never-dunning milliners — discarding the persiflage of patronage — 
 demand their money " on or before Saturday next," with an urgency 
 that looks very like a near approach to bankruptcy or the work- 
 house. Christmas was coming ! 
 
 The interchange of cupboard love was about to take place ! Oyster- 
 barrels rose pyramidically on the counters, for transmission to the 
 country ; and cock pheasants and hares went wandering about on 
 their first and final visit to the capital, seeking for the parties to whom 
 they were directed. Day and night became pretty much as one, and 
 the denizens of darkness long for the light of the shires. 
 
 This laudable yearning was largely partaken in by our before- 
 mentioned friend, Miss Betsey Shannon, who not only sighed for the 
 
 eight of 
 
 " Fresh fields and pastures new," 
 
 but longed to see how her old friend, Lucy Glitters — afterwards Mrs. 
 Sponge — now acted the part of Mrs. Somerville in the provinces. 
 And as she had been useful to Mrs. Somerville, as well in rigging out 
 her footmen as in a variety of other ways, and, moreover, knew that 
 
MISS BETSEY SHANN05. 305 
 
 Lucy was not the woman to ask her down if she did not want to have 
 her, Miss Shannon now wrote to say that, if it would be convenient 
 to Mr. Romford and herself, she would be glad to pay them a visit at 
 Beldon Hall. Then, as good luck would have it, the larder being 
 pretty full, and the sport with the hounds first-rate, and Facey — 
 perhaps, wanting some one to keep Lucy quiet when he went on his 
 fluting excursions to Dalberry Lees, readily assented ! and Lucy 
 wrote back that they would be delighted to see Betsey down when- 
 ever she liked to come. But she said that, as they were now doing 
 high life altogether, it would be well to abandon the name of Shannon, 
 and adopt that of Miss Hamilton Howard for the occasion ; adding, 
 that if she wanted any clothes to support the character, she would be 
 glad to let her have some, as, thanks to the credit of her friend, sh6 
 was very well found — better, indeed, than ever she had been before. 
 
 And as Miss Shannon is now going to play a more prominent part 
 in our story than the mere livery-hunter and commission agent of 
 London, we will here introduce her more fully to the reader. 
 
 Miss Shannon was now just turned five-and-twenty, her birthday 
 being on the 1st of December, though she looked almost younger, — an 
 extremely healthy constitution and active habits enabling her to with- 
 stand the united effects of bad air and rouge. She had long been 
 attached to the minor theatres and City places of public entertainment, 
 where her broad, dashing style of pleasantry procured her many 
 admirers among the counter- skippers and " elegant extracts " of those 
 regions. 
 
 Altogether she was a most attractive little woman, almost a sort of 
 red-and-white edition of our friend, Mrs. Somerville. What with her 
 acting, her singing, her dancing, and modelling, she managed to eke 
 out a comfortable livelihood, and pay ten shillings a week for her 
 second-floor lodgings in Hornsey Road, Islington. 
 
 Well, Betsey was delighted when she got Lucy's letter, which she 
 did after cutting her way home through a dense yellow fog from 
 Highbury Barn ; and she jumped and danced about the room with 
 such emphasis, that she awoke a most respectable clerk in a no less 
 establishment than the Bank of England itself, who thought the house 
 was on fire, and rushed to the first-floor or drawing-room window, 
 calling frantically for an " escape." 
 
 Having arranged matters, as well with the manager at Highbury 
 Barn as with the proprietor of the Sir John Barleycorn Music and 
 Dancing Saloon in Whitechapel, she presently left London, with 
 three sovereigns in her pocket, and as light a heart in her bosom as 
 ever accompanied fair lady into the country. And as the snorting 
 
 x 
 
306 MR. FACEY EOMFOKDS HOUNDS. 
 
 engine swept the train out of town — passing from streets to crescents, 
 from crescents to semi-detached villas, and from semi-detached villas 
 to the magnificence of real ones, disclosing as it went real fields, real 
 cows, real sheep, real barns, real everything, — her spirits rose to 
 exuberance, and she thought she would never come back ; she would 
 rather be a dairy-maid in the country, than have to dance for her 
 dinner in town. And as she passed from station to station, her 
 feelings became fortified in that line. The country was the place 
 for her. 
 
 At length, after repeated stops, hisses, and starts, our fair friend 
 found herself before a station that, somehow or other, she thought 
 she had heard of before; and diving into her lavender -coloured 
 kid glove, she produced a little yellow -and- white striped ticket, 
 bearing the duplicate of the name, Firfield — " London to Firfield"— - 
 upon it. 
 
 "Oh, guard! porter! here! let me out!" cried she, protruding 
 half her person through the window; " let me out." And forthwith 
 a sturdy porter was at the door complying with her request. 
 
 "Noothen! where are ye for?" demanded a coatless, pillar-post- 
 shaped man, with a pig-jobber-like whip in his right hand. "Noo 
 then ! where are ye for ? " 
 
 It was Independent Jimmy asking Miss Howard where she was 
 going. 
 
 "Beldon Hall," replied our friend in a clear, musical voice. 
 
 CHAPTEE LVII. 
 
 MR. ROMFORD AT HOME. 
 
 It was lucky that our friends at Beldon Hall had the prudence to 
 get Miss Shannon to change her name to something more aristocratic, 
 for if she had gone into Doubleimupshire under her proper patronymic, 
 she would never have been noticed, and might very likely have 
 damaged the whole Beldon Hall concern. "Betsey Shannon ! "What 
 a name !" people would have said. " What sort of people can those 
 Bomfords be, to associate with such a person." Then her manners, 
 though not offensive, were rather forward, particularly with gentle- 
 men; and altogether she required a little toning down. This, then, 
 
MR. EOMFOED AT HOME. 307 
 
 she had in the much-coveted name of Howard ; for what would have 
 been downright vulgarity in a Shannon, became the easy manners of 
 high life with a Howard. 
 
 And as people are not easily stopped if they want a thing — the 
 standing orders of society being quite as capable of suspension as those 
 of the Houses of Parliament — so the fact of Mrs. Somerville not having 
 returned any one's call did not at all prevent the same parties coming 
 again to pay their respects to Miss Howard. 
 
 Facey, we may observe, kept the gravelled ring before the front- 
 door well raked, and could tell at a glance when there had been 
 callers — carriage callers or equestrian callers ; but as he could not 
 control Miss Howard's movements, he laid it down as an invariable 
 rule that callers should have nothing but sherry and ship-biscuits 
 when they came. Sherry and ship-biscuits, he said, were delicacies 
 enough for anybody. He had no intention of having his dinner ate 
 up at luncheon time by a party of ravenous callers. And sheny and 
 ship-biscuits being more than our Master allowed at first, the ladies 
 presently improved upon his liberality by getting Mrs. Mustard to 
 make a currant-cake as well. Then, at the gentle tinkle of the bell, old 
 Balsam used to appear in his gaudy livery, bearing a fine silver salver 
 studded with beautiful crystal and china accompaniments, making 
 altogether a most respectable appearance. And as the ship-biscuits 
 did not perceptibly diminish, and Mr. Eomford cared little about the 
 sherry — Lord Lovetin finding that — he gradually became reconciled 
 to the ringing of his bell and the dirtying of his door-steps, so long as 
 he himself was not personally intruded upon. Moreover, he was out 
 hunting when the great runs upon the house took place; and the 
 ladies having found out the trick about the gravel, generally had it 
 raked before he came home. 
 
 And Mrs. Somerville being a good judge as to who were in earnest 
 and who were philanderers, very soon saw that young Joe Large was 
 very favourably disposed towards our auburn-haired friend, and there- 
 fore judiciously left them alone while she herself went about her 
 domestic affairs, or peeped through the key-hole at them, as the case 
 might be. 
 
 Still the boy was slow, being constantly cautioned by his mother to 
 beware of the ladies, who, she said, had very little conscience in love 
 affairs, and though he came pretty often, still JJetsey could not report 
 much progress. Dinners Mr. Eomford would not hear of, indeed 
 they felt conscious they could not give them ; but they both thought 
 if they could have a little evening party, at which they could appear 
 in ball dresses, it would be very delightful, and might cither secure 
 
 5 2 
 
80S MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 Large or spread the net wider to catch others. Ladies generally think 
 if they can only show themselves in costly costume, that they will he 
 sure to captivate the men, though they are quite mistaken in the 
 matter. However, let that pass. 
 
 Well, the ladies both thought it would he uncommonly nice to have 
 a little party. Oh dear, is would be so nice to have a little evening 
 party. So easily done, too — such a charming house, such beautiful 
 rooms, such nice losing-places. If only Mr. Romford could be 
 managed — oh dear, if they could only manage Mr. Romford. 
 
 And, as good luck would have it, the chance soon came. Mr. Rom- 
 ford's hounds had had an uncommon run from Hoyland Hill, killing 
 in the open in Mr. Hazey's country, with only Mr. Stanley Starling, 
 himself, and Daniel Swig, up, the nutmeg grey having taken a violent 
 fancy to scrubbing Chowey's leg against a carrier's cart, instead of 
 pursuing the pleasures of the chase, making the man with the mouth 
 vociferate vehemently. Then Facey, having made a sumptuous dinner 
 off toad-in-the-hole and toasted cheese, proceeded to review the run, 
 ■with a glass of gin and a pipe of tobacco, from the luxurious depths of 
 an easy-chair, breaking out every now and then in ecstacies at the per- 
 formance of some of the pack as satisfied Lucy that he was very well 
 pleased with all he had done. Then she looked at Betsey, and Betsey 
 looked at Facey, and, seeing his humour, Betsey arose, and going to 
 the piano began to play his favourite air, " Jump Jim Crow." Facey 
 was delighted : "Jim Crow" and " Old Bob Ridley" he looked upon 
 as the two finest efforts of the imagination, and after Miss Shannon 
 had played " Crow " over to him three times, he went for his flute and 
 proceeded to accompany her. 
 
 Then came the "leperous distilment " as per previous arrangement 
 between Lucy and Betsey. 
 
 "How nice it would be to have a little music here some evening," 
 observed Miss Shannon, sipping her sherry negus. 
 
 " "Wouldn't it ! " exclaimed Lucy, as though the idea had just 
 struck her. 
 
 " Such a nice house, and so well adapted for a thing of the sort," 
 continued Betsey. 
 
 "Well, but we've had a little music," observed Facey, scrutinising 
 them attentively; adding, " what more would you have ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, we have had music, very nice music," replied Miss 
 Shannon, gaily, " but rather in a selfish sort of way, you know; what 
 I meant was, to let other people hear us — ' Mrs. Somerville at home,' 
 or something of that sort, you know." 
 
 "'Mrs. Somerville at home,' " repeated Facey — " what does that 
 
MR. ROMFORD AT HOME. 309 
 
 mean ? Why, you're always at home, ain't you, when you're not out, 
 ain't ye ?" 
 
 "Oh, yes, but it doesn't mean that," rejoined Lucy. "It means 
 at home to receive visitors. It means dressing up ; but then there's 
 no occasion for you to do so. You needn't dress up unless you 
 like." 
 
 " Humph ! " mused Facey, resuming his pipe, to consider how 
 that would act. " Well, but is it a cock-and-hen club ? I mean, 
 are gentlemen asked as well as ladies, or is it only a lady party?" 
 
 " Oh certainly, a few men, — couldn't have a party without them, you 
 know." 
 
 "And do ye give them anything ?" asked he. 
 
 " Oh, just a little tea and coffee," replied Lucy. 
 
 " Tea and coffee," repeated Facey, thinking that would not do much 
 for him. 
 
 " P'r'aps a sandwich and a glass of sherry before they go away," 
 added she. 
 
 "Sandwich and a glass of sherry," muttered Facey — "sandwiches 
 and a glass of sherry," repeated he, thinking the latter would not cost 
 anything. " Might have a rabbit-poie and a cheese," suggested he, 
 thinking they would be cheaper than ham-sandwiches. 
 
 " Oh, but people don't eat cheese of an evening," replied Lucy — ■ 
 "only light things — confectionery, and such like." 
 
 " Humph ! good things at any time, I think," replied Romford, 
 who was a great man for cheese — good, stiff, leathery sort of stuff be 
 used to indulge in, too. 
 
 "And what do you do then ?" asked he. 
 
 " Oh, just look at each other and talk — ask Mrs. Brown if she's seen 
 Mrs. Green, or Mr. Black if he's heard from Mr. White lately." 
 
 " What next ? " asked Mr. Romford. 
 
 " Oh, well then, when you've got a good boiling you begin to let 
 them simmer off to cards or something. Perhaps the best way will be 
 to begin with a little music — Mr. Romford and you can open with 
 * Old Bob Ridley,' or any other tune ; then you, Betsey, can accom- 
 pany yourself on the guitar, after which we could begin to pair people' 
 eff to play and sing together, or let them wander about the house and! 
 do as they like." 
 
 "Don't let them go into my bed-room ! " exclaimed Facey, who 
 bad no fancy for having his valuable wardrobe or expensive toilette 
 table exposed. 
 
 "Oh, no, lock the door," replied Lucy — "lock the door — lock all 
 places up that we don't mean them to go into." 
 
310 MR. FACEY EOMFOED'S HOUNDS. 
 
 " And you're sure they won't make me make a speech, or anything 
 of that sort ? " inquired Facey, anxiously. 
 
 "Oh, no," replied Lucy, "nothing of that sort — quite a free-and- 
 easy — a ladies' entertainment, in short. The master of the house may 
 wander about just as if he were one of the guests." 
 
 ""Well, then, oi'll wander off to bed," said Facey, rising and light- 
 ing himself a candle, observing to Lucy, as he shook hands with her, 
 " oi think you'd better consider about the rabbit-poie and the cheese 
 — come cheaper than ham, oi'm sure." So saying, he rolled out of the 
 room. And as the door closed, and his slip-shod feet were heard 
 retreating along the passage, the ladies rose from their chairs, clapping 
 their hands and jumping for joy at the idea of having an " At Home." 
 They were perfectly astonished at their own success. Never thought 
 our Master would come in so easily. They little thought how much 
 he was influenced by the idea of the fair lisper at Dalberry Lees form- 
 ing one of the little musical party. The ladies then thought they 
 had better clench the consent by sending out a few invitations ; and 
 opening a pack of " at home " cards that they had providentially had 
 engraved and sent down by book -post from London, they commenced 
 filling in the names — 
 
 "Mrs. Somekville, 
 
 " AT HOME, 
 
 " Tuesday the 11th, Nine o'Clock, 
 
 " Beldon Hall, 
 
 "R. S. Y. P." 
 
 - -to the extent of some ten or a dozen, which they enclosed in superfine 
 envelopes, sealed with the " Turbot-on-its-tail" seal, and told Dirtiest 
 of the Dirty to take them to the lodge to meet the pedestrian postman 
 in the morning. This done, they retired to rest, Betsey dreaming 
 that she brought young Large to book before they had got half through 
 the evening, when other gentlemen came pouring in apace, until she 
 was perfectly overwhelmed with offers. Mrs. Somerville, too, having 
 then recently received a copy of Crow's " Illustrated Manual of 
 Mourning Fashion," dreamt that she was so captivating in a Clotilde 
 tulle evening dress, with its diamond-shaped bouillons, crossed with 
 straps of satin, that she wrote off and ordered one the next morning 
 without further to-do, and also a rich Zingaree Lyons velvet cloak 
 for Miss Hamilton Howard, both, of course, to be sent to the care of 
 the Right Honourable Lord Viscount Lovetin, Beldon Hall, Double- 
 imupshire. 
 
CHAPTER LVIIL 
 
 MS. FIZZER, CONFECTIONER TO THE QUEEN. 
 
 It was a good arrangement of Mrs. Somerville's pitching her party 
 to the key-note of an "At home," they are at once such elastic and 
 compressible entertainments. If nobody came, she was still "At 
 home ; " if half the county came, she was there also. An " At 
 home " may mean anything — anything except a dinner. It may be 
 merely a conjuror, it may be a magic lantern, it may be tea and turn 
 out, it may be tea and Terpsichore, it may be a carpet dance, it may 
 be a quiet evening and a little music, or it may be a ball and supper. 
 It pledges itself to nothing. Still, it has this inconvenience, that 
 unless an answer is specifically requested through the medium of those 
 talismanic letters " It. S. V. P.," half the recipients of cards don't 
 answer them, thinking it just a sort of open thing to be gone to or 
 not as they feel inclined on the evening of the day. The absence of 
 the letters is rather indicative of its not making much matter whether 
 the guest comes or not. Mrs. Somerville, therefore, obviated this by 
 having the " R. S. Y. P." on her invitations, which, coupled with the 
 novelty of anything being given at Beldon Hall, caused a great sensa- 
 tion throughout the country. There was no fear of any refusals, or 
 of the invitations not being responded to. There was no hunting in 
 Burke or Hart's Army List, to see who Mrs. Somerville was— every- 
 thing was taken for granted. As soon as the first surprise had sub- 
 sided, the note-paper was produced, and the answers becomingly 
 arranged. Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Large, and Mr. I. Bolingbroke Large, 
 had the honour of accepting Mrs. Somerville's polite invitation, &c. 
 Mr. and Mrs. Hazey, Miss Hazey, and Mr. "William Hazey, had much 
 pleasure, &c, Miss Hazey thinking the party was made for her. Mr. 
 and Mrs. Watkins, and Miss "Watkins, had great pleasure, &c, Miss 
 nothing doubting that the party was made for her. 
 
 Others followed quickly, the Blantons, the Pyefinches, the Cramber- 
 ledgcs, the Ellerbys, the Baker Bensons, the Brogdales, the Bigmores, 
 all coming, and seme asking to be allowed to bring friends, Mrs. 
 Dust pleading for a nephew, Mrs. Lolly asking for the addition of a 
 lady. Then out went more cards, and more cards, till, in such uurr>- 
 
312 mr. facey romford's hounds. 
 
 bers that if Mrs. Somerville had not done old Ten-and-a-half-per-Cent. 
 out of a hundred pounds' worth of shares in the Half- Guinea Hat 
 Company, the outlay for postage stamps would have been rather 
 inconvenient. Then came the consideration of feeding the multitude. 
 
 Old Dirty could roast and boil, but as to anything like ornamental 
 dishes, still less confectionery, it was wholly and totally out of the 
 question. She candidly said she couldn't do it. She, however, half 
 solved the difficulty by suggesting that her friend Mrs. Carraway, the 
 confectioner of Hardingford, could be had over for a few days, who 
 would be able to set out a supper fit for a prince to partake of. 
 
 "That old thing," said Betsey to Mrs. Somerville, "may be all very 
 well in her way, but I should doubt very much her being able to set 
 out anything superior, and in all probability she will charge you quite as 
 much for a tenth-rate thing as a good confectioner would for a first; 
 so why not have a first-rate one, and enjoy the credit of it? " 
 
 ""Well," replied Mrs. Somerville, "there's something in that; 
 only," added she, after a pause, " where is one to get the superior 
 article?" 
 
 " London, to be sure," rejoined Betsey ; " London's the place to 
 get everything. Get lions, tigers, unicorns, elephants, temples, 
 pagodas, palaces, — all the skill and beauty of the most practised hands 
 in each department of the sugary art." 
 
 " Ah, but how about Mr. Romford ? " sighed Mrs. Somerville. 
 i " Ah, Mr. Romford, indeed ! " ejaculated Betsey, recollecting his 
 rabbit-pie-and-cheese proposal. " Well, that is a difficulty," added she. 
 " Couldn't make him believe that old Dirty had made them, could 
 we ? " asked she, after a pause. 
 
 "Oh, no; he's far too sharp for that," replied Mrs. Somerville. 
 "Knows every ounce of everything that comes into the house, and 
 everything that goes out of it, too. One would think he had nothing 
 a year, paid quarterly, instead of thirty thousand from land, and I 
 don't know what from other sources." 
 
 " You don't say so ! " exclaimed Betsey, who hadn't heard of such 
 money. " Well, but if it didn't cost him anything he wouldn't mind, 
 perhaps, would he ? " suggested Miss Shannon. 
 
 "Well, I don't know that he would," replied Mrs. Somerville ; 
 " but the thing is how to do it." 
 
 " I think I have it," replied Miss Shannon. 
 
 "How ? " asked Mrs. Somerville. 
 
 " Well, then, you see, as we are only lodgers, as the Irishman said 
 when they told him the house was on fire, I think we may as well 
 make hay while the sun shines ; and with my fine new name and 
 
MR. FIZZEK, CONFECTIONER TO THE QUEEX. 313 
 
 aristocratic connections, there can be no difficulty in my ordering 
 whatever we like, and telling Mr. Romford that I stand Sam for the 
 occasion." 
 
 "No more there will!" exclaimed Mrs. Somerville, delighted at 
 the proposal. 
 
 " Have the things directed to me, you know — ' Miss Hamilton 
 Howard, or Mrs. Hamilton Howard, Beldon Hall, Doubleimupshire.' " 
 
 " Capital ! " exclaimed Mrs. Somerville, clapping her pretty taper- 
 fingered hands; " excellent, indeed. But we had better have in the 
 Lovetin title, or they may take us for some of the smaller fry, and 
 hesitate to execute the order." 
 
 " Well, I'd have it in mildly, then," replied Miss Shannon. " Say, 
 'at the Lord Lovetin's, Beldon Hall, Doubleimupshire;' not ' at the 
 Right Honourable Lord Viscount Lovetin's, Beldon Hall, Doubleimup- 
 shire,' or they may think we are vulgar people unaccustomed to the 
 nobility. They'll soon refer to the Peerage, if they have any doubts, 
 and give him all his honours themselves." 
 
 " Then who should we give our valuable custom to ?" asked Mrs. 
 Somerville. 
 
 " Oh, Fizzer, by all means. Fizzer has unlimited means, and can 
 execute the largest order off-hand with the greatest ease. I know one 
 of his genteel young people, who says they do business in the most 
 liberal, confiding way, — never suspecting anybody with a handle to 
 his name, or seeming to think it possible to be imposed upon." 
 
 " That's the man for us ! " exclaimed Mrs. Somerville. 
 
 They then discussed the form of the Fizzer order. 
 
 " ' Miss Hamilton Howard presents her compliments to Mr. Fizzer,' " 
 suggested Lucy. 
 
 "No, I wouldn't compliment him," replied Miss Shannon. "Too 
 polite ; might make him suspicious. Just write as you would to your 
 milliner, in a scrawly-sprawly sort of way, saying what you want, 
 and nothing more ; leaving him a little margin for the imagination to 
 play upon, and to enable him to suggest something himself. He may 
 propose to supply wine too ; in which case you would take him at his 
 word, and save Mr. Romford's, who, you know, only agreed to give 
 sherry." <■ 
 
 And Lucy, who wa3 a much better writer than Betsey, whose forte 
 lay more in her toes than her fingers, then proceeded to order a cham- 
 pagne supper for eighty or ninety ladies and gentlemen, to be sent to 
 Miss Hamilton Howard, at Beldon Hall, in Doubleimupshire, on the 
 11th, by the train that arrived at the Firfield station at 1.30 p m. 
 
 The next post brought down a gilt-edged extra superfine note. 
 
314 MR. FACET ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 with the words, "Fizzer, Confectioner to the Queen," on the pink 
 stamp of the envelope, informing Miss Hamilton Howard that her 
 esteemed favour had come to hand and should be duly attended to, 
 adding, that if there was any extra plate, or waiters, or anything else 
 required, perhaps Miss Hamilton Howard would have the goodness to 
 communicate her wishes to Mr. Fizzer ; thus showing how grateful 
 London tradespeople are for being handsomely imposed upon. And the 
 note concluded by requesting a continuance of Miss Hamilton Howard's 
 favours, which should at all times command Fizzer' s best attention. 
 
 So far so good. They had now got supper, plate, and extia servants 
 if they wanted them. The minor adjuncts only remained. Lucy was 
 now in her glory. 
 
 CHAPTER LIX. 
 
 MRS. SOMEKVILLE "AT HOME. 
 
 FoirrtrNE favours the brave ; and the ladies at Beldon Hall seemed to 
 be particularly lucky, for a bright sunny day went down with a blood- 
 red sky, giving goodly promise for the coming frosty night. And 
 indeed, before Mr. Romford reached his kennel, after a fairish run in 
 the lower part of Loubleimupshire, the ice began to crumble beneath 
 his horse's hoofs, and the air assumed a crisp consistency that as good 
 as said, " Mr. Francis Romford, my good friend, your invincible 
 hounds will not be out again in a hurry." Nor in truth did our 
 Master care much if he stopped for a while and took stock, for several 
 of his subscribers paid the usual convenient tribute of respect to his 
 great riches by withholding their subscriptions, and Facey would like 
 to have them collected. How could he ever build his hospital if they 
 didn't pay? In addition to this, he had two or three lame horses, 
 besides some that were getting rather light in the girth ; and as Mr. 
 Goodhearted Green had expressed his intention of being in Mr. Rom- 
 ford's " shire," as he called it, towards Christmas, Facey would like to 
 have them plumped out a little before Goodheart came. So he resigned 
 his horse to the strong persevering man, and fed his hounds without 
 note or comment on the future. Two things Facey eschewed — 
 hunting in wind and a frost; and he saw plainly enough that he 
 was in for the latter. He therefore resolved to succumb without 
 
MRS. SOMERVILLE "AT HOME. 315 
 
 contending with the elements — a step that it would be well if other 
 masters were to adopt. With feelings such as these, he now waddled 
 down to the house at a sort of half-running-half-walking kind of gait. 
 
 The first thing that struck our Master as he approached the Hall, 
 was the disordered state of the gravelled ring before the door. "When 
 he left home in the morning it was nicely raked, but now there were 
 the marks of two if not three carriages upon it. " Rot it ! " exclaimed 
 he, " they'll never be done with their callers continually battledoring 
 and shuttlecocking the cards," thinking what a consumption of sherry 
 and captains there would have been. " Straw, too ! " added he, as he 
 advanced farther and found a few blades, also some paper shavings. 
 " "What the deuce are they doing with straw?" Facey little thinking 
 what two cargoes of goods Independent Jimmy had brought from the 
 .Firfield station, from Mr. Fizzer's. But when he opened the door, 
 and found a fire blazing on either side of the great entrance-hall, his 
 consternation knew no bounds, and he thought the quiet evening and 
 a little music had indeed assumed vast proportions. There are, how- 
 ever, people who will attempt to carry off anything with a matter-of- 
 course air, and by going boldly in they oftentimes parry, or at all 
 events break, the force of a blow. When, therefore, Mr. Romford 
 came striding into the breakfast-room, nursing his wrath as he walked, 
 Miss Betsey Shannon essayed to take the wind out of his sails by 
 exclaiming, " Oh, Mr. Romford ! oh, Mr. Romford ! haven't we made 
 an improvement in the hatmosphere of the 'ouse ? " 
 
 " Made two great blazing fires, I see," replied Facey, gruffly ; adding, 
 "but I don't know that that will be any improvement in my pocket." 
 
 " Oh, but it's worth all the money," rejoined Miss Shannon, " espe- 
 cially on a cold frosty night like this ; and when, too, you have a few 
 friends coming to take tea and spend the evening with you." 
 
 "Well, well," rejoined Mr. Romford; "but there's reason in all 
 things — reason in all things. "No use making two fires when one 
 would do. Folks can warm themselves just as well at one fire as 
 at two. And who's been at the biscuits'? " demanded he, reverting to 
 his original gravel grievance. 
 
 "Nobody," replied Lucy, boldly. 
 
 "Nobody/" retorted Facey. " Coom, that won't do; bin two, if 
 not three carriages here, oi'll swear." 
 
 " Oh, that's Independent Jimmy with — with " faltered Mrs. 
 
 Somerville. 
 
 " With what ? " demanded Facey. 
 
 " Oh, just some things for Miss Shannon," replied the lady, recol- 
 lecting: herself. 
 
316 mr. facey romford's hounds. 
 
 " Things for Miss Shannon!" retorted Facey. " Why, he must have 
 brought half creation." 
 
 "You see, now," interposed Betsey, playfully taking him by the 
 button of his red coat as she spoke, — " you see I've a cousin in the 
 confectionery line, and he has lent us some little sugar ornaments and 
 things to set the supper table out with. 
 
 Facey. — "Supper table! Why, I thought we settled there was to 
 be a rabbit-pie and some cheese — I mean sherry and sandwiches ?" 
 
 Miss Shannon. — "Oh, yes — sherry and sandwiches, too; but you 
 know these are just ornamental things, not meant to eat, you know; 
 and as my cousin offered them, why, we thought we might as well 
 have them, specially as they cost nothing." 
 
 "Cost Independent Jimmy's journeys, at all events," replied Mr. 
 Romford, thinking what a lot of rabbit-pies the money would have 
 bought. However, as he couldn't say Miss Shannon might not do as 
 she liked with her own, he turned the conversation by exclaiming to 
 Lucy, "And what's there for dinner, lass?" 
 
 " Resurrection pie and roast apples," replied Lucy. 
 
 " Resurrection pie and roast apples," repeated Facey, adding, " well, 
 let's be at it as soon as you like, for oi'm very hungry and ready to 
 be doing." 
 
 " They'll be ready as soon as you are," replied Lucy, glad to see 
 he was inclined to expedite matters, addiug, "p'raps you won't mind 
 taking your pipe in the bedroom? " 
 
 " What for ? " demanded Facey. 
 
 " Oh, only because we should like to have this room for a cloak-room." 
 
 "Cloak-room! " replied Facey; "why the deuce can't they put off 
 their cloaks in the hall ? What are the two great rousing fires for, I 
 wonder?" asked he, reverting to the old grievance. 
 
 " Oh, but then the ladies must have combs and pins and looking- 
 glasses, to arrange their hair and simpers," observed Miss Shannon, 
 coming to the rescue. 
 
 "Dash them! they surely don't mean to dress their hair here?" 
 replied Facey. 
 
 " No ; but then to see it's all right after the jolt of the road, you 
 know." 
 
 " Gentlemen don't understand these things, you see," added Miss 
 Shannon. 
 
 " Don't oi ? " growled Facey, as if he understood a good deal more 
 than she thought. He then rolled out of the room, wondering what 
 the deuce the women were after — why they couldn't have a few friends 
 to tea without all that kick up. 
 
MKS. SOMERVILLE "AT HOME. 317 
 
 It was only an uncomfortable meal as far as Lucy and Betsey were 
 concerned, for they were anxious to expedite matters, and durst not 
 open their mouths on the subject of the coming entertainment; while 
 Facey seemed to dawdle over his dinner, a most unusual circumstance 
 with him, who generally gobbled it up like a hound. If he only knew 
 how anxious they were to get rid of him, he surely would be good 
 enough to go. Oh dear, what a deal they had to do ! And there ! 
 he was taking another slice of cheese. At length he gave his great 
 mouth such a sounding smack as indicated he was done, and, turning 
 short round to the fire, he stuck out his legs as if preparing for his 
 pipe. Lucy then rang the bell for Dirtiest of the Dirty, and as she 
 cleared the things away, Lucy took advantage of a lull in the noise to 
 ask if Mr. Romford's fire was burning. 
 
 "Yes, mum," replied Dirty. 
 
 " Hang these ' at homes,' " growled Facey ; " they seem to make 
 a man not at home. Light me a candle," added he, seeing there was 
 no help for it. He then rose and slouched off in his slippers, mutter- 
 ing something as he went about " women and the price of coals." 
 
 "Thank goodness, he's gone!" exclaimed Betsey, almost as soon 
 as he had closed the door. 
 
 "Hush! " rejoined Lucy; " you don't know what quick ears he has. 
 Now he is away," added she, as she heard him turn up the passage 
 leading to his bedroom. The ladies then laid their heads together to 
 expedite matters — so much to do, and so little time to do it in. The 
 fact was, Facey should not have had any dinner at home that day. 
 And to aggravate matters, there came notes from parties begging, as 
 the greatest possible favour, to be allowed to bring others, or exchange 
 samples, with the weary bearers waiting for answers, and of course 
 retarding matters down below. 
 
 Eight o'clock now struck — quicker, if possible, and more im- 
 pulsively than usual — and it wanted but an hour, one short hour, 
 until the grand company would be entitled to come ; and there is 
 always some stupid gawk who arrives at the exact moment, doing as 
 much mischief as a score of people would do. But, thanks to Mr. 
 Percival Pattycake, Mr. Fizzer's head man, things were well forward, 
 which they would have had little chance of being if the Dirties had been 
 in command, for they were all so bent on admiring themselves in their 
 well-distended white muslin dresses, with cherry-colour sashes and 
 little jaunty caps, as to be perfectly forgetful of the fact that they were 
 meant to do anything but giggle and amuse themselves. 
 
 Very pretty they all were, though Dirtiest of the Dirty was 
 decidedly the belle of the party, with her sylph -like figure, large 
 
318 mr. facey romford's hounds. 
 
 languishing eyes, pearly teeth, and beautiful hands. She, however, 
 felt rather hurt that, as a lady's maid, she was not allowed to wear a 
 low-necked dress. " There should be a distinction made," she said, 
 " in favour of upper servants." 
 
 Billy Balsam and Bob Short, too, got into their shorts in good time ; 
 and Billy was so disguised by his powdered head and gaudy livery, 
 that none of the Lon.nergan family — not even old " llent-should-never- 
 rise" himself — recognised him. 
 
 But the great metamorphosis of the evening was that of our gigantic 
 friend Proudlock, the keeper, whom Lucy had induced to put on a 
 splendid green-and-gold French chasseur's uniform that Betsey had 
 got down from the same unhappy hook-nose who supplied the liveries. 
 There, with defiant false moustaches and a lofty feather-plumed cocked 
 hat, Proudlock stood at the front door, receiving the carriages as they 
 came up, striking awe and astonishment into the minds of the 
 beholders. 
 
 One thing, to be sure, had been omitted in the arrangements, 
 namely, to provide stable-room for the horses and refreshments for the 
 servants. And as carriage after carriage set down, with the usual 
 inquiry of the giant where they were to put up, the coachmen were 
 told that he didn't know anything about putting up. Indeed, it never 
 seemed to have occurred to the ladies that they would want anything 
 of the sort. " As strong as a horse," is a familiar phrase; and what 
 did it mean but the power of resisting hunger and cold. Besides, how 
 did ths cab-horses and things do in London ? Who, in the midst of 
 preparations like these, could think of such things? "Drive on!" 
 was therefore the order of the day. And now let us look at matters 
 inside the house. 
 
 The two ladies dressed together, taking an hour and a half for the 
 operation, at the end of which time they severally appeared in very 
 chaste and elegant costume. 
 
 Let us now suppose them down-stairs, all ready for the ring-up of 
 the curtain of company. 
 
 Hark ! it's evidently a frosty night, for the notes of the stable clock 
 reverberate through the house as though it were inside the mansion. 
 One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine o'clock ! Mrs. 
 Somerville "at home" at nine o'clock, and now she's due! Then, 
 having snatched a parting glance at herself in the mirror, and feeling 
 comfortable on the score of looks, she takes her delicate white kid 
 gloves and richly embroidered feathered fan off the mantelpiece, and 
 approaches the door of the reception-room, accompanied by Miss 
 Hamilton Howard, each inwardly hoping that Mr. Romford will be 
 
MRS. SOMERVILLE "AT HOME. 3L0 
 
 pacific under the violent surprise that awaits him, — the blaze of light, 
 the great gathering, the gorgeous supper, the — we don't know what 
 else besides. 
 
 Hark, again ! Carriage-wheels sound on the now frozen gravel, 
 and yet it's only five minutes past nine. The noise ceases, but the 
 momentary calm is only the prelude to a most boisterous ring. 
 
 A country footboy has got the brass bell-knob in his hand, and pulls 
 as if he were going to pocket it for his trouble. A ti'emendous peal is 
 the result. It shakes the nerves of everybody in the house, — Dirties, 
 Lucy, Facey, and all. 
 
 " There ! there's somebody ! " ejaculated Lucy and Betsey, as they 
 both get into position, Lucy before the door, Betsey a leetlo behind, 
 ready to advance as soon as Mrs. Somerville's smiling demands were 
 satisfied in full. 
 
 " Dash my buttons, here they come!" exclaimed Facey aloud to 
 himself, now in the last throes of his neckcloth. " Dash my buttons, 
 here they come ! and I not half dressed yet. Shouldn't wonder if 
 it's Cass herself," said he, thinking how she would pout if he was not 
 ready to " Bob Ridley " her. 
 
 But he is all out in his reckoning. Cassandra Cleopatra, at this 
 identical moment, is getting laced into a most elegant toilette of straw- 
 coloured ChamMry gauze with six flounces of white tulle ; and Spanker's 
 man is just putting the harness on to the carriage-horses, to convey 
 them to Beldon Hall. 
 
 No ; it is the noble family of Lonnergan, — Lord Lonnergan of Flush 
 House, accompanied by his amiable wife and accomplished daughters, 
 who, however, have not been able to persuade papa that there is no 
 occasion to come to the exact moment they are asked for. His lord- 
 ship insists upon the contrary ; adding, that he once missed the mail 
 train in consequence of being half a minute behind time, and he has 
 always made a point of being punctual ever since. So he confronts 
 the gigantic Proudlock, who passes the party on to the figure-foot- 
 men, who in turn conduct the ladies to the breakfast-room door, where 
 the sylph-like form of Dirtiest of the Dirty, uoav arrayed in white 
 muslin with bright cherry-coloured ribbons, receives them ; and his 
 blue-coated, short-breeched lordship is ushered into the library, where 
 the other Miss Dirties, similarly attired, preside behind a well- 
 garnished tea and coffee table. These beautiful girls his innocent 
 lordship surveys with all the respect that old Don Quixote regarded 
 the muleteer's wenches ; thinking, if not princesses, that at all events 
 they were Mrs. Somerville's servants. But he declines both tea and 
 coffee, having had both before. 
 
320 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 And now the Ilonourable Lovetin Lonnergan, who had come on the 
 box of the can-iage, having got out of his wraps and joined the 
 ladies, summoning the old lord from his survey, advances up the 
 passage to the radiant music-room, preceded by both Balsam and 
 Short. 
 
 " Mr. and Mrs. Lonnergan and the Misses Lonnergan — Mr. Lovetin 
 Lonnergan," announces Billy Balsam in the orthodox way he had been 
 taught ; and forthwith there was a great bending and bobbing and 
 showing of teeth, with introductions to " my friend, Miss Hamilton 
 Howard." And both his lordship and the honourable were much struck 
 with the ladies' beauty. 
 
 Ring, ring, ring, went the door-bell, and the giant was again 
 astonishing the arrivals : Mr. and Mrs. Brogdale and Miss Brogdale 
 this time, closely followed by B-omford's suspicious friend Miss Mouser, 
 who did not let any doubts she had upon our Master's genuineness 
 prevent her begging Mrs. "Watkins to get her an invitation to his 
 house. Then came the Blantons and Mr. Finch, the gentleman our 
 Master called Mr. Felt. 
 
 And now, Mr. Bomford having descended from his bedroom, 
 arrayed in all the magnificence of purple and fine linen, with a smart 
 cambric kerchief in his hand in lieu of his old snuff-coloured bandana, 
 found a cluster of ladies and gentlemen around our fair friends, quite 
 as many as, with a slight addition perhaps, Facey thought would con- 
 stitute a party — quite as many, at least, as he expected to be asked 
 when he gave his consent to have one. "Who the deuce was going to 
 find sherry and sandwiches for the whole county? But still Billy 
 Balsam kept piloting in more, mangling their names, and sometimes 
 exchanging them altogether when he had two 6ets in hand, calling 
 Mr. Tuckwell Mr. Brotherton, and Mr. Brotherton Mr. Brown, in the 
 most arbitrary and uncharitable way. The carriages now came so 
 quickly that the bell ceased ringing, and Billy had hardly time to 
 receive one consignment from Bob Short and pass them to the Dirties, 
 ere another party wanted to be passed from the Dirties to the music- 
 room. Not so our fat friend from Pickering Nook, who seemed to 
 think he had got among the fair damsels at the refreshment-room 
 there, and kept laughing and talking, or rather squeaking, first with 
 one Dirty and then with another, as though he were going to stay 
 there. 
 
 But here comes the weaselly-looking chairman of the Half-Guinea 
 Hat Company, with his yellow-and-white beard carefully combed out, 
 and his failing crop of sandy hair made the most of towards the top. 
 He grins as though he has quite recovered from his " cat "-spelling 
 
U3S. SOMERVILLE " AT HOME. 321 
 
 loss at Tarring Neville, and was easy about the hundred pounds' worth 
 of hat-shares Lucy had got. The fact is, he has just made a great hit 
 in buying a piece of land with a favourite clump of trees upon it, 
 which he threatened to cut down unless certain parties paid for their 
 standing, and amongst them he has got three times as much as 
 he gave. 
 
 "Mistek, Misteess, and Miss "Waikiks ! " now announced the Dal- 
 berry Lees' figure-footman in a loud authoritative tone at the front door, 
 as though he were telling the giant something he didn't know. Mister, 
 Mistress, and Miss "Watkins had indeed come at last ; and now, getting 
 out of their opossum and black bear-skin wrappers, they descend 
 slowly and deliberately from the well-appointed carriage, as though 
 they did not care who they kept waiting behind. Having seen them 
 into the middle of the entrance-hall, the coachman then further pro- 
 crastinates matters by demanding to know where he is to put up his 
 'osses. On being told by the giant that he knows nothin' about 'osses, 
 he indulges in some coarse invectives against the 'ouse generally, and 
 with a vindictive cut of his whip at length moves on from the door 
 Mr. Lolly's one-'oss-shay then crawls up. Then came the Kickons, 
 the Bigmores, and a gentleman in a gig. Meanwhile the ladies, having 
 dropped Willy at the tea-room door, proceed under the guidance of 
 the two figure-footmen to the cloak-room, where they remove the last 
 wrap that conceals the artistic triumph of Madame La Modiste. Miss, 
 indeed, looks well. 
 
 The "Watkinses declining tea, which indeed they had taken before 
 they left Dalberry Lees, proceeded, duly heralded by Balsam and 
 Short, to the reception-room, about the centre of which, and as 
 nearly under the richly cut glass chandelier as would escape any 
 wax-drops falling on her dress or beautifully rounded shoulders, 
 stood Mrs. Somerville in the full blaze of light and admiration, receiv- 
 ing the compliments of the men, and undergoing the scrutiny of the 
 ladies. 
 
 There too, a little on her left, was Betsey Shannon, now, of course, Miss 
 Hamilton Howard, the centre of attraction to three young gentlemen at 
 once, viz., Bolingbroke Large, Sick-mouth, and the Honourable Lovetin 
 Lonnergan. But Betsey had esprit, or what she called chaff, for then 
 all, and played her cards so well that each fancied himself the favourite, 
 and wondered why the others didn't go away. She had held six men 
 in tow at Highbury Barn before now, to say nothing of a fiddler and 
 the cornet-a-piston in the orchestra. So she smiled and laughed and 
 twisted and turned to show herself off to the greatest advantage. 
 
 And now the concentrated gaze of the room is diverted from tn* 
 
322 ME. FACEY KOMFORD'S HOUNDS. 
 
 new-comers towards our great Master, Mr. Romford, to see how he 
 greets the reputed new mistress of Beldon Hall. Miss Mouser up 
 with her glass, for hers was the eye that never missed the shadow of 
 an ogle or the echo of a sigh. Mrs. Brogdale put on her spectacles, 
 and Mrs. Bigmore her nose-glasses. On Romford comes like a great 
 wave of the sea, until he reaches the reef of the family party. 
 Then Mrs., then Miss, then Mr. have him alternately by the hand. 
 Miss is very smiling, for she now feels assured that the whole affair is 
 in honour of her. He wants to show her the house to advantage, before 
 he asks her to share it with him. Miss Mouser says, with a dig of 
 her sharp elbow into Mr. Blanton's ribs, " There's something in it, 
 I'm sure." She then shifts her place and proceeds to take a side- 
 long survey — " Clearly something in it," she says to herself, as she 
 watches the sparkle of the lisper's eye. But her triumph was of 
 short duration. 
 
 "Mk., Mrs., and Miss Hazey, and Me. "William: Hazey!" now 
 announces Mr. "William Balsam, piloting the party well up to the 
 mistress. Then there was a fresh ebullition of feeling, more smiles, 
 more bows, more curtsies, more shakes of the hand. Miss looks lovely, 
 quite eclipsing Miss Watkins both in beauty and dress. 
 
 Miss Mouser is at her with her formidable glass, for she doesn't 
 like her mother — Mrs. Bigmore is at her with her double ones, for 
 she doesn't like her father ; and Miss "Watkins is at her with her 
 supercilious eyes, for she doesn't like herself. A good many others, 
 too, gave her saucy stares, for she was far too pretty to be popular, 
 and Mr. Hazey himself was not much liked either. Mr. Romford, 
 however, consoles her for all the curling lips by the fervour of his 
 greeting, quite satisfying Miss Hazey that the party was for her, and 
 her only. If Cassandra Cleopatra could have felt the pressure of his 
 great hand, she would have thought little of her own chance of pre- 
 ferment. But our lisping friend is not going to surrender without a 
 struggle, and watching her opportunity, she sidles up to our host, 
 and asks, with a glance at the piano, if they are not going to have a 
 little music. 
 
 "Oh, to be sure!" exclaimed Facey, now recollecting what the 
 party was for — "oh, to be sure! Oi'll get moy flute, and we will 
 'stonish the natives together." 
 
 "Your flute is in the music-stand," now exclaimed Mrs. Sonier- 
 ville, who had been listening to the rivals, and feared lest Facey 
 might go out of the room and upset all the other arrangements. 
 
 "Is it?" said Romford, "then let us be doing," offering as he spoke 
 his red arm to Cassandra, who joyfully accepted it, flaunting her dreaa 
 
MRS. SOMERVILLE "AT HOME. 823 
 
 at Miiss Hazey just as a peacock flaunts his tail when he's not upon 
 over good terms with the hen. 
 
 Then there was fresh nudging and looking and hushing, and whisper- 
 ing of ""What's up now? Going to have a little music, are we? 
 "What, a concert, is it ?" with ni titterings of " Oh, she can't play a 
 bit, nor he either," as the two approached the piano. 
 
 Miss Cassandra now draws off her closely fitting white kid gloves, 
 and depositing them with her fine lace and ciphered kerchief at the 
 corner of the instrument, takes her voluminous seat on the stool, while 
 Mr. Roniford screws his old flute together, and amid hishing and hush- 
 ing the audience form a semicircle behind, preparing for the punish- 
 ment ; and Mrs. Somerville stands on guard near the door to receive 
 the fresh comers, closely attended by Ten-and-a-half-per-Cent., chair- 
 man of the Half-Guinea Hat Company, with Betsey and her beaux 
 for a vanguard behind. 
 
 And now Mr. Romford, having got his greasy old instrument licked 
 and sucked and put together, proceeds to blow a few discordant puffs 
 and squeaks, while the fair lady runs her light hand up and down the 
 notes of the piano, as if to test the quality of her consignment. All 
 being at length ready, with renewed cries of " hish, hush," the sound 
 of voices gradually subsides, and as the now attracted company are 
 expecting some fine Italian air, away the musicians go with Facey's 
 favourite tune of " Old Bob Ridley." 
 
 "Why, what tune's that?" whispers one. 
 
 "Don't know," mutters another. 
 
 " Surely it's not « Old Bob Ridley,' " says a third. 
 
 " Believe it is," adds a fourth. 
 
 "Hush!" cries a fifth. 
 
 If Facey's Oncle Gilroy really damaged his wind by making him 
 play the flute to him when a boy, he had a great deal to answer for, 
 as we make no doubt the assembled company thought, for a more 
 impotent exhibition was perhaps never heard, even though Cassandra 
 Cleopatra did halt and help him along over the weak places, instead of 
 hurrying on and showing off on her own account. 
 
 Still the lameness of the performance did not prevent the assiduous 
 toadies expressing their gratification and thanks to them both when 
 they were done, even though they inwardly hoped they might not 
 have to undergo any more of such music. 
 
 But Facey, "who had a firm conviction that he had mistaken his 
 calling and ought to have been a flutist, received it all as well- 
 merited laudation, and as soon as he had sufficiently recovered his wind, 
 whispered to Cassandra, "Now let's 'stonish them with 'Dixey'sLand.' " 
 
 t 2 
 
324 MR. FACEY RCLMFORDS HOUNDS. 
 
 And Miss gladly obeyed, much to the comfort of some and the dis- 
 quietude of others ; and away they went more briskly than before. 
 
 During all this time the guests still kept arriving, Mr. Telford, Mr. 
 Stoddart, Mr. and Mrs. Pinker bringing Miss Eeevey, and Mr. Baxton 
 his two daughters and a gawky nephew, and when Facey turned round 
 he was astonished to find such an assemblage. There could not be 
 less than sixty or seventy people in the room, and Sweet William 
 still kept piloting in more. Bowman and Barker and Lightfoot and 
 Lorington, and we don't know who else besides. 
 
 " "Well, the ways of the women are wonderful," muttered Eomford, 
 surveying the gathering, thinking he would not be caught giving his 
 consent for another quiet evening with a little music. Then the ques- 
 tion where the sandwiches were to come from struck like a dagger to 
 his heart. ""Where, indeed," thought he. "A 'underd and fifty 
 people at least," mused he, glancing round the room. " Terrible field, 
 indeed." 
 
 But Cassandra did not give him much time for reflection, for, know- 
 ing the power of her rival, she arose, and placing her delicate white 
 arm within his red one, she lisped in his ear, "Now take me to the 
 tea-room," determined that he should not be charmed by her music, 
 at all events. 
 
 "Tea-room!" muttered Facey ; adding, "I don't think there is one." 
 
 "Oh yes, there is," rejoined Miss Cassandra, piloting him into the 
 thick of the crowd, — "Oh, yes, there is;" adding, "your people 
 offered us some when we came." 
 
 And as she worked him on, they came upon the breakwater formed 
 before the door, now shored up behind by the substantial figures of 
 " Bent-should-never-rise," Mrs. and the Miss Bents, Fatty Stotfold, 
 and other stout ones. 
 
 Then, having at length penetrated this apparently impervious 
 phalanx, they came upon where the enterprising ladies were receiving 
 at once their guests and the homage due to their own distinguished 
 beauty; and Mrs. Somerville, looking round, confronted the tall 
 figure of her brother shouldering his way, with Cassandra Cleopatra 
 clinging affectionately to his side. 
 
 "Oh, where are you going, my dear?" exclaimed she, anxiously, 
 laying her hand on his arm. 
 
 " Tea 1 "Where's the tea? " muttered Facey. 
 
 " Tea /—there'll be " Here Mrs. Somerville faltered; shj 
 
 would have said sandwiches, but she felt it was of no use further 
 disguising the matter, so she substituted the word "refreshment;'' 
 adding, "and I want you to take in a lady." 
 
MRS. SOMERVILLE S SANDWICHES. 325 
 
 " Huinpl ! " growled. Romford, wondering what was up ; muttering 
 down his arm to his fair friend, "you'll get some gruel presently." 
 
 So Miss Cassandra was impounded — impounded, too, in the most 
 unpleasant way : for Anna Maria, availing herself of the familiar 
 artifice peculiar to orators and gentlemen troubled with a determina- 
 tion of words to the mouth, got up a call on herself for some music, 
 which, after a certain amount of coyness, she acceded to, and was 
 presently playing and warbling in the place of her predecessor. It is 
 but justice, however, to Cassandra to state that she talked as loud and 
 made as much noise as ever she could ; and as it is easier to find fault 
 than to do better, she criticised Anna Maria's performance very 
 severely. 
 
 At length the music ceased, thanks were tendered, curtsy made, 
 and all parties began to think it was time for something else. 
 
 Mrs. Somerville then braced herself up to the utmost, and approach- 
 ing our Master, asked him to take Mrs. Hazey into the dining- 
 room. 
 
 " Dinin'-room ! " muttered Pacey, who thought the thing would be 
 done on a tray where they were. He then did as he was bid, mutter- 
 ing as he went, "What's up now? as the frog said when its tail 
 dropped off." 
 
 CHAPTER LX. 
 
 iiRS. somekville's sandwiches. 
 
 "We left our friend Mr. Eomford piloting one of his expectant 
 mothers-in-law along from the music to the refreshment room, under a 
 mixed effusion of compliments from her, and speculations of his own 
 as to what was going to happen next. 
 
 Mrs. Hazey was now satisfied — indeed, revenged. She saw how it 
 was : Mr. Eomford was civil to Mrs. Watkins, but marked in his 
 attention to her. It was clear the party was made for them (the 
 Hazeys), though the Watkinses thought to appropriate it. That 
 silly, conceited girl (Cassandra Cleopatra) was always trying to make 
 other women believe that the men were in love with her. 
 
 They now got to the door of the lofty " forty by thirty" dining 
 room, resplendent with light, glitter, and glare. Along three-quarters 
 of its entire length, flanked in at the ends, was arranged a ]i/>.-t 
 
326 MR. FACEY EOMFORDS HOUNDS 
 
 sumptuous supper-table, interspersed with beautiful fruit and flower 
 vases, alternating with the most exquisite confectionery. 
 
 Before the elegant young gentleman in black, with the costly 
 jewellery on his vest and his curly dark hair parted elegantly down the 
 middle, stood a noble design of the royal arms — a perfect trophy — the 
 whiteness of the sugar lions being relieved by the rich colour and 
 gilding of the numerous flags and arms. 
 
 Half-way down, on Pattycake's right, arose a grand memorial of our 
 Indian Empire, in the shape of a noble elephant, fully accoutred, with 
 its howdah, or castle, filled with sporting men, going out against the 
 tiger ; while a similar position on Pattycake's left was occupied by a 
 barley-sugar pagoda, surrounded with bon-bons. 
 
 At the far end, on the right, was Britannia, ruling waves of sugar, 
 and her car drawn by dolphins, red, white, and blue. 
 
 On a crimson velvet-covered shelving-stand at the back of the room 
 arose a perfect pyramid of plate, commencing with the massive shields 
 and salvers of olden times, and gradually tapering away into the cups 
 and vases of the present. It had been so long locked up, that it 
 almost seemed to stare, as if quite unused to society. Its noble owner, 
 however, would have stared far more if he could have seen it. 
 
 The entertainment was, indeed, what Mrs. "Watkins's cook (Lubbins) 
 would call a " grand uproar." 
 
 O'er all this sumptuous elegance Mr. Pizzer's head man, Mr. 
 Percival Pattycake, presided, having a Dirty on each side of him, and 
 the figure footmen towards the ends of the table. 
 
 Old Dirty was kept below to wash up, whilst Dirtiest of the Dirty 
 wandered about the rooms, pocketing sugar and picking up what she 
 could. 
 
 Mr. Bomford started convulsively when he got to the dining-room 
 door, just as if he had seen another " woman in black ; " for, how- 
 ever bold the Beldon Hall ladies were, he did not think they dared 
 have ventured on such a step as this. 
 
 Mrs. Hazey, too, stared with astonishment, and inwardly thought it 
 would be 
 
 •' A very fine thing to be mother-in-law 
 To a very magnificent fox-hunting Bashaw." 
 
 The pressure, however, from the crowd behind was too great for 
 much soliloquising, and the huge, pent-up wave of society pushed on, 
 and presently broke against the entire length of the supper-table, all 
 equally anxious to be at the eatables. To see the onslaught that was 
 made on the hams, and the tongues, and th* 1 turkeys, one could not 
 
MRS. SOMERVILLES SANDWICHES. 32 7 
 
 help wondering what they would have done if there had not been any 
 supper. Nor were the jellies, the creams, or the custards a bit more 
 neglected. " Munch, munch, munch," was the order of the day. At 
 length the light artillery of bon-bons began to sound through the room, 
 which, however, was quickly silenced by the more congenial fire of 
 champagne. Fiz, pop, bang ! went the corks from the right, left, and 
 centre. Fiz, pop, bang ! repeated others, and forthwith black arms 
 and red arms, and fair arms, presented glasses across the tables to 
 check the now overflowing exuberance of the bottles. Nor once, nor 
 twice sufficed to repulse them — back came the glasses as though they 
 had never been filled. The first glass, of course, was said to be good ; 
 the second, middling; and the third, " gusberry." 
 
 Mr. Eomford having now what he called got Mrs. Hazey hanked on 
 to her husband, while he, wandering about alone, mattering to himself, 
 " Where the devil do the chickens come from? where the deuce do the 
 hams come from ? where the dickens do the turkeys come from ? " He 
 knew that Betsey Shannon's friend had only undertaken to supply the 
 ornaments. And Facey felt just as if he was going to get the stomach- 
 ache. At this interesting juncture the fair Cassandra Cleopatra came 
 tripping up, all smiles and radiance, though somewhat troubled in 
 spirit, and presented arms at him in the shape of a bon-bon. 
 
 The champagne fire now became weaker and more languid, but the 
 hubbub of voices and the cracking of bon-bons supplied the deficiency. 
 Fizzer had sent down an unlimited supply of them, which ladies pre- 
 sented to gentlemen and gentlemen to ladies with the most undaunted 
 courage. Crack, crack ! shriek, crack ! sounded throughout the spacious 
 apartment, to which the occasional boom of the champagne corks 
 acted like artillery. Ten-and-a-half-per-Cent. and Mrs. Somerviile 
 pulled one together, in which was the following prudent hint : — 
 
 " Be not too forward in touching toes under the table ; some day you will 
 make a grand mistake. " 
 
 while " If- father- would-but-die" was unremitting in his attention to 
 Miss Hamilton Howard, looking as happy as if father was dead. The 
 red or auburn-haired lady, as the case may be, was in her glory! 
 Mrs. Somerviile, too, was surrounded with beaux, all anxious for a 
 smile from the beautiful widow with ten thousand a year, as they now 
 called it. She thought how happy she would be if she could have 
 such a party every night in the year. People seemed to amalgamate 
 better than they usually do on these sort of occasions. They aU 
 appeared to have specific engagements, and to be more bent on for- 
 warding their own little affairs than watching how other people got on 
 
328 MR. PACEY ROMFORD'S HOUNDS. 
 
 Miss Mouser, to be sure, kept on the alert with, her eye-glass, hut they 
 seemed to regard her much as people regard a policeman in plain 
 clothes, or a wasp deprived of its sting. 
 
 Meanwhile the Dirties and footmen, under the direction of Mr. 
 Percival Pattycake, replenished the tables and arranged the garniture 
 for further assaults — mangled remains were removed and replaced 
 with uncut viands : Fizzer did the thing well. 
 
 Facey, who had now imbibed several glasses of champagne, was 
 sufficiently elevated to be able to treat the matter in a philosophical 
 over-shoes, over-boots sort of way, though when he looked at the 
 temples and towers, and other triumphs of confectionery, he couldn't 
 but think of his proposed rabbit-pie and cheese. " "Wonderful work," 
 muttered he, with a chuck of the chin to himself, as a fresh crop of 
 champagne took its place on the table. " The ways of the women are 
 wonderful," added he, as a boar's head and plovers' eggs came sailing 
 in, as though the resources of the house were inexhaustible. " "Wonder 
 how many Philistines there are here," continued he, glancing round 
 the crowded room. " Patker keep them in prayer-books than cham- 
 pagne," added he, looking at the long line of empty bottles ranged 
 against the wall below the plate trophy. 
 
 And now, having inducted the reader thus far into the evening's 
 entertainment we will take leave to branch off briefly to another sub- 
 ject, promising that if he would like a glass of champagne in the 
 meantime he can call for it, and he won't get it. 
 
 CHAPTER LXI. 
 
 THE INVASION. 
 
 "While all this frolicksome feasting and gaiety was going on inside 
 the house, things wore a very different aspect at the door. The night, 
 as we said before, was cold and frosty, with a keen cutting crescent 
 moon ; there was no accommodation either for man or horse, and the 
 gravelled ring was so blocked with carriages that the coachmen could 
 not get their horses moved about to keep them warm. It was a dead 
 lock from end to end. Under these circumstances the whole cavalcade 
 resolved itself into a committee to discuss the meaning and probable 
 duration of an " At home." One servant said it was a sort of a tea- 
 drinkin', another that it was a kind of a hddlin' concern, a third that 
 
THE INVASION. 320 
 
 it was just a ladies' clothes show, a fourth that they met to exchange 
 characters of servants; but Mrs. Watkins's London Johnny assured 
 them it was only a sort of a morning call thing performed at night, 
 to which people could come and go just as they liked. At the same 
 time he said " undoubtedly gcnlmen's servants and osses ought to be 
 provided for ; porters and such like might take their chance." 
 
 "Whereupon a stentorian voice, that could belong to no one but our 
 popular friend Independent Jimmy, struck up from the moon-shaded 
 side of the ring, declaring "it didn't see what for gentlefolk's husses 
 and things" — meaning by the latter term " servants" — " what for 
 gentlefolks's husses and things were to be treated differently to other 
 people's, seein' that other people's husses might bring cpuite as great 
 company as gentlefolk's;" and there being two postboys in the 
 ring, they declared in favour of Jimmy's " unadorned eloquence." 
 "Whereupon a brisk and rather acrimonious discussion ensued as 
 to the relative social position of public and private servants, Jimmy 
 contending that the man who wore his own "claes," and knew 
 when his day's work was done, was far more respectable than a 
 powder-monkey Peter, who had to fetch and carry "arl day, and 
 arl night tee" if required. Whereupon several of the Jeames 
 de la JPluche tribe retorted that Jimmy, and such as him, were 
 little better nor galley slaves, putting three days' work into one, 
 and living like criminals ; to which Jimmy retorted that if the work 
 was hard and the fare poor, he was always in health, which was 
 more, he'd be bound to say, than many of them were, "with arl their 
 dish-lickin' pot-wollopin laziness." And so the debate proceeded from 
 divers parts of the ring, — now a butler speaking, now a footman, now 
 a tea-kettle groom, Independent Jimmy generally replying to their 
 observations without reference to the fact of his having spoken 
 before. 
 
 When the argument was about at its height, the sound of music 
 came softened through the Hall td the carriages. 
 
 "Hist!" exclaimed Jimmy; "hist! arm dashed if they're not 
 dancin' ! Sink!" added he, " but they'll keep theirsels warm, what- 
 iver they de by us," Jimmy stamping severely in the bottom of tho 
 melon-frame box as he spoke. 
 
 Then there was a louder waft of music, and a louder still. 
 
 " Ay, that they are ! " exclaimed Mrs. Watkins's footman, listening ; 
 " and we may be kept waiting here till ' daylight does appear.' " 
 
 " Wonder wot time they'll be thinking of us," observed Mr. Large's 
 butler, who would have sent the footman if he had thought they 
 would have been treated so. 
 
330 MR. FACET ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 ""Wonder !" ejaculated Mr. Tuckwell's man ; adding, "should have 
 been out before, I think." 
 
 " Certainly," growled Mr. Bonus's servant, who, being on board 
 wages, was inclined to indulge. 
 
 " Just you slip in, Tom," said Mr. Brogdale's coachman to his foot- 
 man, "and see if there's anything to get;" adding, "if they don'i. 
 mind about people's osses, they surlie might think o' the servants 
 freezin' and starvin' in this way," the many-cape-coated speaker flagel- 
 lating his broad chest as he spoke. 
 
 And Tom, nothing loth, descended from his rumble, and forthwith 
 commenced worming his way among the carriages, making his way for 
 the back door, with which he was well acquainted, having, when o. 
 policeman, been a suitor of Dirty No. 2's. So he opened the door 
 and entered, just like one of the family. Nay, he did more, for know- 
 ing the ways of the house, he groped along the passages till he came 
 to what would have been the invisible door in the dining-room but 
 for the Miss Dirties' finger marks, who had established a short cut that 
 way for carrying coals to the breakfast-room. This, then, he opened, 
 and entered the gay lightsome apartment. 
 
 Now it so happened that when Tom came in, Mr. Percival Patty- 
 cake, who was much smitten with Dirtiest of the Dirty, had resigned 
 his post of commander-in-chief to Dirty No. 1, while he and Dirtiest 
 of the Dirty carried on a flirtation in the deserted room; and Tom 
 appealing pathetically to Miss Dirty's softer and better feelings, she 
 just told him to help himself off the supper-table, whereupon Tom 
 clutched a couple of capons, together with a tongue and a bottle of 
 champagne, with which he returned triumphantly to the carriages. 
 The sound of his coming, with the demand for a knife, caused quite a 
 sensation in the ring, indeed all the way up the line towards the 
 stables ; and forthwith delegates were appointed from several of the 
 vehicles to go on a sort of qui tarn excursion into the house, and see 
 what they could get as well for themselves as the coachmen. 
 
 Away they flew, like a flock of pigeons, as though they hadn't 
 tasted meat for a month, and Lord Lonnergan's young man knowing 
 the ways of the house too, he soon brought them, by certain circuitous 
 ways, to the aforesaid invisible but dirt-defined door. Dirty No. 1 
 had now paired off with the fat boy, leaving the whole parapher- 
 nalia, ornaments and all, exposed to the mercy of the enemy. The 
 intruders immediately set upon it. Mr. TJlanton's young man turned a 
 lobster salad into his livery hat, and restoring it, with a kerchief over 
 it, to his head, next helped himself to a pigeon pie, and a bottle of 
 seltzer water, mistaking it for curacoa. The Dalberry Lees footman 
 
THE INVASION. 331 
 
 pounced on a shape of orange jelly, a nest of plovers' eggs, and a pine 
 apple ; Miss Mouser's young man ran off with a sponge cake porcu- 
 pine, all bristling with almonds ; Mr. Lolly's servant with a dish of 
 Norfolk biffins ; while Mr. Beddingfield's great clown of a coachman 
 took an uncut ham in his hand, and the beautiful Elephant and Castle 
 ornament away under his arm. "Op to this time the triumphs of con- 
 fectionery had been respected, partly perhaps because they did not 
 look like man's meat, and partly because there were more tempting- 
 looking things to be had on the table. Now, however, Mr. Bedding- 
 field's servant's bad example was followed by Mr. Kickton's man 
 pocketing a pair of turtle doves, to eat with some cheesecakes and a 
 bottle of sherry. 
 
 The return of the marauders to the carriage ring was hailed with 
 enthusiastic applause, and other adventurers were encouraged to 
 proceed. 
 
 " You go in Sam ! You go in Joe ! You go in Jimmy ! " 
 
 " Nor, oi'll not gan in," said Independent Jimmy. " If they (tou't 
 send oot, oi'll not gan in ; oi've got a crust o' bread i' mar pocket," 
 added he, diving into his dirty old Witney coat as he spoke. 
 
 Fiz, pop, bang ! now went the champagne corks from the carriages, 
 and great was the demand for a suck at the bottles, and entreaties for 
 a fair distribution of the food. In the midst of the clamour a splut- 
 tering cry of woe arose, causing a cessation of eating for the purpose 
 of listening. 
 
 " Hush ! what's that?" was the cry. 
 
 It was the voice of the great Mr. Spanker, the Dalberry Lees coach- 
 man, who has taken a huge bite out of the pine apple without pealing 
 it, filling his mouth full oi" aeedles and pins, as he afterwards described 
 it. At first it was thought the worthy gentleman had taken a fit, 
 thaa from the heaving of his shoulders that he was choking, and three 
 or four smart whacks were administered on his back before the real 
 cause was discovered. 
 
 And now, while they are prescribing for his much -blistered mouth, 
 one giving him champagne out of a bottle as they give water to a 
 race horse, another recommending seltzer water, which was in no gi*eat 
 demand, a third telling him to stuff his mouth full of cotton wool, let 
 us return to our invited friends within the walls of Beldon Hall. 
 
CHAPTEK LXII. 
 
 THE BELD0X BALL. 
 
 The scene now changed, and Mr. Facey Romford, who thought he had 
 exhausted all the wonders and surprises of the night, was doomed to 
 undergo another apparition more startling and dazzling than any of 
 the rest. This was neither more nor less than the beautiful gold and 
 white drawing-room, brilliantly lighted up for a ball. The chair- 
 covers, the brown holland bags, yea the cut pile carpet itself, had 
 disappeared, and a searching radiance reigned supreme. It was no 
 light for dirty gloves or dashed dresses. The cut-glass chandeliers 
 fulgurated their sparkling lustre ; while every sconce, every bracket, 
 every available standing -place for a lustre supported its bunch of 
 finest spermaceti, as well to show off the beauties and elegances of the 
 apartment itself, as the beauties and elegances that were expected to 
 enter it. And so quietly and secretly had the arrangements been made, 
 that not one of the party, scarcely anyone in the house, knew what 
 was going to happen. Old Dirty and a daughter (Dirty No. 2) had 
 removed the rolled-up carpet to the housekeeper's room, and washed 
 the floor a few days before ; but beyond this, Lucy and Betsey had 
 kept the key and their own counsel, and did the rest of the decoration 
 themselves, even to tipping the candles with spirits of wine, in order 
 to make them light more readily. It was only on the afternoon of the 
 very day that Chasseur Proudlock was inducted into the secret, and 
 told to light up as soon as ever the guests went in to the supper-room ; 
 and then, having done so, to throw the door open for them to enter 
 as they returned. And it was on their homeward voyage — Mr. 
 Romford now convoying Mrs. "Watkins, w r ith Cassandra Cleopatra, 
 steering her voluminous petticoats, by his side — that the first dawn of 
 what was going to happen burst upon him. 
 
 Facey started as the flood of light shot across his path ; a shock 
 that was further increased by six well-dressed musicians slipping in 
 before him, and hurrying up to their places in the bay. These were 
 part of the produce of the chairman of the Half-guinea-Hat Company's 
 hundred pounds' worth of shares in that excellent speculation and 
 
THE BELDON BALL. 333 
 
 out of which Mrs. Somerville had wheedled Mr. Bonus. But of that 
 little transaction Mr. Facey knew nothing. 
 
 There, however, were the musicians, there the ball-room, and here 
 Mr. Bomford, with his assiduous ladies. 
 
 " Oh dear, what a beautiful apartment ! " lisped the Dalberry Lees 
 charmer. 
 
 " Splendid ! " ejaculated Mrs. "Watkins, now lost in astonishment at 
 its size — fifteen feet longer than hers, and much higher. 
 
 Just then the pressure from behind carried them onward, and a 
 surprised and now hilarious crowd entered the room, spreading over its 
 ample dimensions, all anxious to try the merits of the beautiful floor. 
 All was surprise and excitement. 
 
 " Oh dear, how charming ! " " Was there ever anything so nice ! " 
 " Did you ever ?" " No, I never ! " " How kind of Mrs. Somerville 
 to give us a ball." 
 
 And our hostess, who had tarried behind in the supper-room, osten- 
 sibly for the purpose of attending to her guests, but in reality to let 
 Mr. Bomford break the ice of this, the great finishing- stroke of the 
 evening, without her, now came up leaning on Willy Watkins's arm, 
 attended by Ten-and-a-half-per-Cent., while Betsey Shannon, a little 
 in the rear, distributed her smartness among the Honorary Secretary, 
 young Large, and the Honourable Lovetin Lonnergan. Then, as the 
 latter reached the radiant room, there were fresh exclamations of sur- 
 prise. " Oh dear ! how nice ! how beautiful ! " and they all wanted 
 to dance with Betsey at once. She then surveys the scene of her 
 exertions complacently, and inwardly congratulates herself on the fact 
 that the Facey face exhibits nothing but the surprise that might be 
 carried off by the use of his favourite aphorism of " verily the ways of 
 the women are wonderful ! " And wonderful they certainly were 
 upon this occasion, converting a quiet evening and a little music into 
 a splendid ball and supper. 
 
 Meanwhile the musicians have been tuning their instruments, 
 young gentlemen drawing on their gloves (some wishing they were 
 cleaner), others taking furtive glances at themselves in the mirrors, 
 and all things conduce to an opening. The fiddlers are now in form, 
 the assorted couples single themselves out from the crowd, the by- 
 standers retire, the music strikes up gaily, and away they all go with 
 a gallop. 
 
 Mrs. Somerville leads the way merrily with Willy Watkins, closely 
 followed by Betsey Shannon with Bolingbroke Large, while the un- 
 dying one starts off with Miss Hazey. 
 
 The long-secluded room is soon in a perfect petticoat whirl. The 
 
85t MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 ball is well established ; every Jack has got his Jill, and is ingratiating 
 himself to the utmost of his ability. Red coats and black coats 
 mingle with blue dresses and green, while yellow ones and white 
 ones complete the scene. Here we might paraphrase Mr. Romford's 
 favourite apostrophe of Beckford on the fox breaking cover, and say, 
 "Now, where are all your sorrows and your cares, ye gloomy souls? 
 or where your pains and aches, ye complaining ones ? One pint of 
 sparkling has dispelled them all ! " 
 
 Even tbe fiddlers seem infected with tbe common enthusiasm, and 
 Btamp and shake their elbows with convulsive energy. It is to be 
 hoped that they have some extra fiddle-strings in their pockets, for it 
 would be a pity to put a stop to such a party for want of a little fore- 
 thought. 
 
 The ice is now fairly broken, and even Mr. Facey Romford resigns 
 himself to tbe abandon of unrestrained gaiety. He doesn't care a 
 copper for anything. 
 
 " Go it, ye cripples ! Newgate's on fire ! " he inwardly exclaims, 
 as he sees the blooming ladies and light-footed beaux rushing and 
 floating and frolicking about the room. Though no great performer 
 himself, he encircles the lisper's smart waist with his great red arm, 
 and goes boldly in for a dance, bumping against this party, thumping 
 against that, stamping on t'other fellow's toes. But the pace is too 
 good to apologise. 
 
 And now the thick-winded ones begin to stop. "Willy "Watkins first 
 falls out, and his example is speedily followed by Bolingbroke Large, 
 who has been going in distress for some time. The latter is quite 
 blown ; Betsey feels him heaving : Puff — wheeze — gasp — just like 
 old Jugglebury Crowdey running after a poacher. 
 
 " Come and have some refreshment," says she, now acting deputy- 
 mistress of the house. And the youth, being too much out of breath 
 to reply, she leads him away ; and fortunately they re-enter the 
 supper-room just in the height of the before -mentioned foray of 
 servants, and as Mr. Beddingfield's servant is disappearing with tbe 
 Elephant and Castle. Betsey, seeing what has happened, rang the bell 
 violently, disturbing Mr. Percival Pattycake's tete-a-tete with Dirtiest 
 of the Dirty, and causing a general rush of attendants to the room. 
 Mr. Pattycake is greatly distressed at the loss of his magnificent 
 elephant, and forthwith offers a reward of ten shillings for its recovery ; 
 whereupon Billy Balsam goes out among the carriages, and offers the 
 choice of half-a-crown or a constable to the man in possession, who 
 prefers taking the half-crown ; but the castle having been lost off the 
 elephant's back in the transit, Mr. Pattycake refuses the full compen- 
 
THE BELDON BALL. 335 
 
 sation, saying the castle was the most valuable part of the concern, 
 and he would only give half price. 
 
 Betsey now walked away with young Large. • ' Now let you 
 and I have a spin," said she, putting herself in form for the 
 Antelope Gallop, as they approached the ball-room door, starting 
 off with a score directly they got within the portals. But Large 
 was only a little better for his refreshment, and made a very poor 
 response to the twinkling movements of Miss Shannon's pretty feet, 
 60 she very soon, what she called, "stopped the tap," and without 
 much ceremony claimed the hand of the Honourable Lovetin Lon- 
 nergan, who, however, did not come up to her now champagne- 
 inspired mark as a dancer. But as she was bent on business as well 
 as pleasure, she thought to see what a little perambulation would do ; 
 so when the dance was done she walked him away, making a tour of 
 the rooms, the passages, entrance -hall, and all, and finally brought 
 him up at the familiar supper-table, now again in full array with the 
 regulation compliment of attendants — Dirties, footmen, Pattycake, and 
 all. Here, after a glass of champagne a-piece, they began to pull 
 bon-bons, and the Honourable Lovetin presented Betsey with a spark- 
 ling sugar-plum, with the following motto : — 
 
 "Before you take this pleasing sweet, 
 Let our fond lips together meet." 
 
 " Couldn't do it here, you know," whispered Betsey, smiling, but 
 though she took him another excursion, and even asked him, when in 
 the now deserted cloak-room, if he knew how to spell the word 
 " opportunity," he did not rise to the invitation. Having heard of 
 Mr. Romford's "cat "-spelling exploit, he thought there was some 
 catch in it, and began, o-p-op-p-o-r-por-oppor-t-u — 
 
 " Ah ! that'll do, Solomon," said Betsey, turning him round for the 
 door. 
 
 And now Mrs. Somerville re-enters the supper-room just as Mr . 
 Percival Pattycake popped off the last bottle of champagne, to whom 
 he delicately intimates the position of affairs. Then Lucy passing 
 round the table to the before -mentioned invisible door, summons 
 him to follow her, and after rebuking him for his master's non- 
 fulfilment of the order (as people do who are not going to pay for a 
 thing), she gives him out a couple of dozen of Lord Lovetin's best 
 sparkling, telling him she would deduct the price of it from Mr. 
 Fizzer's bill, he having contracted to supply supper with unlimited 
 wine, at so much per head : a safe venture for Lucy to make, seeing 
 that Fizzer was not there to contradict her. 
 
S&6 MR. facey romford's hounds. 
 
 If people who give bad wine, hoping their friends won't discover 
 it, were to see how really good wine is appreciated, they would find 
 their mistake, and perhaps amend their ways. Upon this occasion 
 Lord Lovetin's wine had not been up very long before it became 
 bruited in the ball-room that there was a very superior supply of 
 champagne going, and troops of panting dancers came pouring in, all 
 anxiously asking for the popular beverage. Non-dancers, too, were 
 attracted by its merits. Mr. Tuckwell, and Mr. Lolly, and Mr. Finch, 
 and Mr. Roxton, and even Lord Lonnergan himself might be seen 
 exalting his great excommunicated double-chin as he quaffed off a 
 bumper of the Beldon Hall supply — little thinking whose wine he 
 was drinking. Then this improved excitement, coming at an oppor- 
 tune time, infused fresh spirits into the party ; all 
 
 "Went merry as a marriage-bell," 
 
 the right men getting the right partners, and swinging up and 
 down and round about with redoubled energy. Even old Facev 
 warms with the exercise, his knock-knees smite each other vehe- 
 mently, and he gets over the ground better than before. He has 
 divided his favours very fairly between the lady competitors; if he 
 has galloped with one, he has waltzed with the other. 
 
 So far so good — still there was a little deficiency in the arrange- 
 ments. The people outside were still wholly unthought of. Facey 
 couldn't think of them, because he didn't know how they were 
 coming. Lucy didn't think of them, because few ladies ever do think 
 of those things. Betsey didn't think of them, because it never 
 occurred to her that the guests wouldn't come in street-cabs, which 
 would stand all about just as they do at Highbury Barn, and alto- 
 gether there was a singular dereliction on the part of the promoters 
 of the party for the comfort and accommodation of the outsiders. 
 
 All people, however, are of consequence to themselves, and coach- 
 men and footmen are no exception to the rule. It aggravated 
 them to hear the sound of mirth and music inside, while they sat 
 blowing their fingers, or flagellating their chests with their arms to 
 keep the circulation alive. Nor was their dissatisfaction at all dimi- 
 nished by the report made by the invaders of all the fine things they 
 found in the house. To guard against a second foray all the outer 
 doors had now been locked and bolted, and the gallant green- and -gold 
 Chasseur had retired within, to peep over the Dirties' heads at the door 
 leading into the ball-room — his stalwart figure and handsome uniform 
 making a showy background to the nicely-dressed Dirties in front. 
 And while he was -'^as pleasantly engaged, whispering his soft non- 
 
THE BELDON BALL. 337 
 
 sense in tlieir cars, a noisy peal came off the front door bell that 
 sounded as if the Lord-Lieutenant himself had arrived. A second 
 peal, equally vociferous, followed close on the heels of the first — nay, 
 before the first had time to get its heels -well out of the "way. The 
 grand Chasseur, whose astonishment at the evening's proceedings had 
 only been equalled by that of friend Romford himself, little doubting 
 but it was some very great personage indeed, shook out the gay 
 plume of his cocked-hat, and restoring it with a military air to his 
 head, summoned the two figure-footmen to precede him and open the 
 door, while he drew himself up to his utmost altitude in front to 
 receive whomsoever happened to come. 
 
 The lofty doors flew open, and in the noble portal stood coatless 
 Independent Jimmy himself, whose temper having got the better of 
 him, he had come to demand what time he was wanted. 
 
 Proudlock stepped back scornfully, shocked at the rencontre, for of 
 course he knew Jimmy, though Jimmy didn't know him. 
 
 "Noo then! "What time's ar wanted?" demanded Jimmy, thump- 
 ing the butt end of his great pig-jobber-like whip furiously against the 
 marble flags. 
 
 " "Wanted ! "What do I know about your wants ! " replied Chasseur 
 Proudlock, indignant at the idea of having answered such a ring. 
 
 " Sink ! D'ye think ar's gannin to let mar husses stand starvin' 
 there arl neet ? " roared Jimmy at the top of his stentorian voice. 
 
 "Hush ! you'll disturb the dancers! " exclaimed Proudlock, waving 
 his right arm imperiously for him to depart. 
 
 " Sink! but oi'll gan in and see," said Jimmy, pushing his way past 
 Balsam and Bob Short, and making direct for the giant himself. 
 
 Proudlock perhaps thinking that his military costume might inti- 
 midate, put himself in an attitude of defence; whereupon Jimmy, 
 dropping the pig-jobber whip, at him in an instant, and planting two 
 well-directed blows, laid him sprawling on the flags, with his right 
 eye closed, and what the pugilists call the claret cork taken out of 
 his nose. The giant fell heavily, and roared lustily. Oh, how he did 
 roar ! He stopped the music, and brought the dancers trooping into' 
 the hall to see what had happened. Then Old Dirty was found raising 
 him up, with Dirty No. 2 applying a white kerchief to his nose. 
 
 "Who's dead, and what's to pay?" demanded Betsey Shannon, 
 pressing forward through the crowd, leaning on the arm of the boy 
 Bill. 
 
 " That imperent Jimmy has beat him most brutal ! " exclaimed Old 
 Dirty, casting an indignant eye at our imperturbable friend. 
 
 "What a go ! " exclaimed Betsey, turning short round on her heel, 
 
 z 
 
338 MR. FACET ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 having little doubt that Proudlock deserved it. He then got raised 
 up and slunk off. 
 
 "Why, he's a regular Tom Sayers ! " said she, looking at Indepen- 
 dent Jimmy's stout frame, adding to Bill, " now take me back to the 
 ball-room ; " and away the two tripped in a waltz. 
 
 Great was Independent Jimmy's astonishment at finding who he 
 had been fighting with. " Sink ! ar arlways said ar could polish him 
 off in three rounds," said he, picking up his whip, and preparing to 
 depart. Then suddenly recollecting what he had come for, he ex- 
 claimed, " Ar say, what time's ar wanted?" 
 
 "Oh, not this hour and fifty minutes yet," replied young Mr. 
 Bigmore. 
 
 " We won't go home till morning," exclaimed the Honorary 
 Secretary. 
 
 " Sink! it's amaist that noo ! " roared Jimmy. 
 
 But he might as well speak to the winds. 
 
 Then the dancers galloped and waltzed back to the ball-room, the 
 stately ones following slowly and demurely, wondering what would be 
 the result of the evening's enjoyment. There were evidently many 
 flirtations on foot ; but would any of them ripen into an offer ? They 
 would see. Mrs. Watkins and Mrs. Hazey were equally confident of 
 the success of their daughters. If Mr. Romford had danced one more 
 dance with Anna Maria than he had with Cassandra Cleopatra, still 
 Mrs. Watkins had the satisfaction of knowing that he had sat out a 
 quadrille with her daughter, and also taken her (herself) in to the 
 supper-room. 
 
 And now the musicians, having imbibed a gallon and a-half of strong 
 ale, and had some of the cheese that Mr. Bornford proposed giving his 
 guests, set to work as if they were going to fiddle the house down. 
 And the dancers seem as if they were ready to assist them — the fat boy 
 himself entering with avidity. So the ball is resumed with great ardour. 
 
 The supplementary champagne sustains the credit of the house, and 
 people generally admit that they never saw a thing better done. Mrs. 
 Somerville promised to be a great acquisition in Doubleimupshire, 
 and Betsey Shannon was equally popular. It would be a shame to 
 let them go out of the country. Long might Bomford continue to 
 hunt it. He was just the sort of man they wanted. And so the 
 whole thing was a great success. 
 
 The best of friends, however, must part ; and as our guests, unlike 
 Goldsmith's 
 
 " dancing pair, that simply sought renown, 
 
 By holding out to tire each other down," 
 
THE BELDON BALL. 339 
 
 had higher aspirations than the mere movement of the moment; 
 so first Mils. W r atkins, and then Mrs. Hazey, were shocked at the 
 unwonted lateness of the hour, and "Willy and the boy Bill were 
 respectively told that they must look after the carriages directly, while 
 the rivals were whispered that they must stop dancing at the end of 
 the quadrille, as it was time to go home. And neither of them 
 thinking to be able to complete the victory that evening, they were 
 content to retire simultaneously, each feeling satisfied that none of the 
 remanets could touch her. So with a smiling "I pity you" sort 
 of air, Miss Cassandra Cleopatra presently sailed past her opponent, 
 closely followed by "Willy and Mamma, the latter giving Anna Maria 
 a half saucy salute, that as good as said, " You won't be mistress here, 
 my dear." And Facey, who had smote his knock-knees with dancing 
 till they were sore, gladly furthered the departure by tendering his 
 red arm to Mamma, who whispered her gratitude to him for the beau- 
 tiful ball he had given her daughter as they went along, first to the 
 cloak-room, and next to the carriage. Then, having got them tucked 
 in, the lady to whom allegorically he 
 
 " - — - had given Lis hand and heart, 
 And hoped they ne'er again might part,'" 
 
 squeezed the former most affectionately ere she drew up the window- 
 sash. Spanker then touched the ready greys, and away they bowled 
 from the door, just as the stable clock struck four. 
 
 " "Wonderful work," muttered Facey, as he rolled back into the 
 house. 
 
 The Hazeys were then just emerging from the cloak-room, and Facey 
 having paid them the same tribute of respect that he had paid the 
 "Watkinses, he returned to the ball-room to see if he couldn't, in 
 publicans' parlance, get his house cleared. He gave a great unmuzzled 
 yawn as he entered the apartment, that as good as said, "Oh, clear, 
 but I'm tired of it." Nor was his anxiety to be done diminished by 
 seeing that ugly old Bonus twirling Mrs. Somerville about in a waltz, 
 while Betsey Shannon in vain tried to get the reader's old friend, 
 Robert Foozle, to follow. 
 
 "You are not much used to waltzing, Mr. Foozle, I think?" said 
 she, stopping short. 
 
 "'No, I'm not much used to waltzing," gasped Robert. 
 
 " Better have some lessons in waltzing, I think, Mr. Foozle," said 
 Betsey. 
 
 "Yes, I'd better have some lessons in waltzing, I think," rejoined 
 Robert. 
 
 z2 
 
340 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 "Ah, come to me some morning, and I'll spin you about," said 
 Betsey, now slipping away from him. 
 
 "Whish, crush, bump ! fatty Stotfold and Miss Lonnergan now knock 
 Robert clean out of the ring. Facey then gives another great yawn. 
 
 It is melancholy work watching the decadence of a ball, the exhaus- 
 tion of the dancers, the struggles to be gay against the ability to be so, 
 the decline of the dresses until none but the shabbiest remain, the 
 dickering of the candles, the droppings of wax, perhaps the prema- 
 ture demise of a lamp. All these symptoms now followed in rapid 
 succession at Beldon Hall. The fat Misses Lonnergan got partners, 
 the thin Misses Pinker exhibited their steps, and even Miss Mouser 
 was induced to stand up in a quadrille. Still the thing was wearing 
 itself out apace, and if it hadn't been for the after-math or chaff as 
 to the lateness of the thing, they would all just as soon have been in 
 bed. So, sooner than give in, they danced and grinned till their cheek- 
 bones ached. 
 
 At length the last of the crinolines disappeared under the guidance 
 of our athletic Master, and nothing remained but those few male 
 lingerers who so seldom get to parties that they never know when to 
 go away — who stick to the supper-table so long as any vestige of any- 
 thing remains. 
 
 Lucy and Betsey, now dreading the reckoning, stole away to bed as 
 soon as they saw Romford's broad red back disappearing with his last 
 convoy, and our friend, on returning, seized a sherry glass, and, 
 holding it up in mid air, exclaimed in an Independent Jimmy sort 
 of tone, "Come, gentlemen ! Oi'll give ye a bumper toast. Fill your 
 glasses, if you please ! " an invitation that was most readily complied 
 with, in hopes of its being the precursor to a final carouse, when 
 Facey speedily dashed the cup of hope from their lips by adding, 
 "Oi'll give ye our next merry meeting!" an appeal that was too 
 urgent for the most inveterate sitter to resist. So they quaffed off 
 their glasses in silence, and, like the sick man's doctor, 
 
 ' ' took their leaves with signs of sorrow, 
 Despairing of a drink to-morrow." 
 
 Silence then presently reigned through Beldon Hall, broken only 
 by the airy tread of the pretty Dirties puffing out the candles, and the 
 heavy tramp of the massive footmen bearing off the plate and the 
 weightier articles of ornament. Facey then retired to rest, hardly 
 able to realise the events of the evening. Nor did a broken harassing 
 Bleep contribute to the elucidation of the mystery. He dreamt all 
 
MK. GOODHEARTED GREEN AGAIN. 341 
 
 sorts of dreams — first that a Jew bailiff, dressed in white cords and 
 top-boots, stepped out of his gig and arrested him for the supper bill 
 just as he was findiug his fox in Stubbington Gorse — that nobody 
 would bail him, and he was obliged to leave his hounds at that critical 
 moment. Then that all the musicians were sitting on his stomach, 
 vowing that they would play " Old Bob Itidley" till he paid them for 
 their overnight exertions. Next that he had backed Proudlock an 
 even fifty to lick Independent Jimmy, and that Jimmy was leathering 
 the giant just as he liked. Lastly, that Mrs. Somerville was off with 
 old Bonus, and that Facey's horse Everlasting stood stock still and 
 refused to go a yard in pursuit of them. 
 
 Other parties had their dreams. Lovetin Lonnergan dreamed that 
 " father was dead," that he was in possession of Flush House with all 
 the accumulations, and was just going to the coach-maker's to order a 
 splendid blue and white carriage to take Miss Hamilton Howard to 
 church ; while young Joseph Large, between paroxysms of the cramp 
 and broken sleep, dreamt that Miss Howard was his, and was coming 
 to adorn the halls of Pippin Priory. Robert Foozle, too, dreamt that 
 he had got a wife without his mother's leave, and was greatly rejoiced 
 irhen he awoke and found it was not so. 
 
 CHAPTER LXIII. 
 
 ME. GOODHEAETED GEEEX AGAIN". 
 
 Tue day after a ball is always a feverish, uncomfortable affair. It 
 is far worse than the day before ; for you have all the confusion with- 
 out the excitement caused by the coming event. Nobody knows when 
 to do anything, — when to get up, when to breakfast, when to lunch, 
 when or where to dine. On this occasion the sun itself forgot to rise 
 — at least, to shine ; and those who slept with their curtains drawn 
 and shutters closed, might have skipped the day altogether. 
 
 Jack Frost was as good as his word ; and when Facey awoke, he 
 found the landscape folded in Jack's icy embraces. " No hunting for 
 me," said he, as, casting aside the bed-curtains, he saw the head of 
 Roundforth Hill powdered with a sprinkling of snow. "No hunting 
 for me," repeated he, turning over on his side ; " but oi'll have a look 
 at moy list, and see if oi can't bring some of my non-payin' subscribers 
 to book. No notion of carxyin' on a country for the mere pleasure 
 
342 MR. FACET ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 of the thing, and treat them into the bargain. Oi'm summit like the 
 barber," continued Facey, soliloquising, "who put up for a sign— 
 
 'What! Do you think 
 I shaves for a penny 
 And axes to drink ? * 
 
 but when the customer, having been shaved, wanted to drink too, the 
 barber read the sign, — 
 
 ' "What ! Do you think 
 I shaves for a penny, 
 And axes to drink ? ' 
 
 Oi'm not goin' to hunt a country for nothin', and give them balls too, 
 
 * Shave for a penny, and ax 'em to drink.' " 
 
 So saying, our Master turned over in his couch, and presently sub- 
 sided into a broken, fitful sort of sleep. Thus he remained until half- 
 past one in the afternoon, a thing he had never done before ; no, not 
 even after the most ardent harvest dance, at which festivities he used 
 to be a great performer. He then got up, and dispensing with a 
 shave, jumped into his lounging-suit of grey tweed, and proceeded 
 down-stairs, as well to test the severity of the frost as to get a mouth- 
 ful of fresh air before breakfast. Passing over the still blood-stained 
 flags, he arrived at and opened the front- door. What a gravel-ring 
 was there ! So different to the nicely raked thing he usually kept. It 
 looked as if all the horses in the country had been trampling and 
 pawing upon it. There was the pine -apple, with the great bite taken 
 out, just as Mr. Spanker, the Dalberry Lees coachman, threw it away. 
 There were champagne bottles strewed all around, also the bottle of 
 seltzer- water standing upright on the window-sill, and the elephant's 
 castle lying crushed to atoms, just as it was when Mr. Kickton's 
 carriage- wheel passed over it. The invaders hadn't even been at the 
 trouble of taking the borrowed ale-horn back into the house, but had 
 chucked it down to take its chance in the general melee. A keen east 
 wind wafted straws and paper shavings about in all directions. 
 
 "Bless us, what a sight ! " exclaimed Mr. Facey Bomford, looking 
 at the debris spread over the battle-field. " Declare it will take a man 
 a month to put this ring right. All the way up to the stable the same 
 mess," added he, following up the line with his eye. " Well, if this 
 doesn't cost something, I don't know what will ! Sooner Betsey's 
 cousin than me!" So sayiag, our friend picked up the pine -apple 
 and the horn, and, wheeling about on his heel, re-entered the house, 
 and ransr the bell for his breakfast. 
 
Mit. GOODHEARTED GREEN AGAIN. 343 
 
 It wa3 all very well ringing, but there was nobody to answer the 
 bell ; nobody but Old Dirty, at least, and she didn't care to come. The 
 fact was, the breakfast-room, as indeed all the others, were just as 
 the company had left them ; no fires lighted, candles as they were 
 blown out, lamps as they were extinguished, chairs as they stood, 
 some wide apart, others close together ; everything, in fact, but the 
 supper-table was in statu quo. This was clean swept. Mr. Percival 
 Pattycake, aided by Dirtiest of the Dirty, having packed up every- 
 thing worth carrying off, and being then far on his way back to town, 
 with a score of a hundred and ten people who had partaken of the 
 Beldon Hall hospitality. 
 
 Facey rang again and again before Old Dirty came, and then she had 
 nothing to show, — said the girls were all in bed, and declared they 
 wouldn't get up that day. So Facey had to go down into the kitchen 
 and get his breakfast there, fearing to await the dribbling assiduities 
 of Old Dirty. And as he was busy making what the Frenchman called 
 a " grand circumference" of toast for himself, first Betsey, and then 
 Lucy, dropped in " quite promiscuous," and a disjointed conversation 
 arose, interrupted by the occasional entry and exit of old Dirty, 
 respecting the grand entertainment ; Facey fearing that he would bo 
 let in for the cost, Betsey assuring him he had nothing to fear, as she 
 and her friend had made it all right with old Fizzer. And though 
 Facey did not see how a young lady who sang and danced for her 
 maintenance could afford such a proceeding, yet knowing that the 
 " ways of the women were wonderful," he hoped for the best, and 
 proceeded with his breakfast. This over, he looked at his watch, and 
 finding it was nearly three o'clock, he gave up the idea of a stroll 
 with his gun after the woodcocks, or anything else that turned up, and 
 slouched away to the stable. 
 
 Among other miscarriages — or rather, misplacements — of the occa- 
 sion, was that of the Beldon Hall letters. The correspondence of the 
 house was not very large, being chiefly confined to invoices, with a 
 slight sprinkling of refreshers in the way of bills delivered, though 
 nothing at all approaching a regular " dun; " but it so happened that 
 there was a letter from Goodhearted Green himself, dated from Wall- 
 ingford, saying that he had just purchased a most desirable weight- 
 carrier, only a difficult one to mount, which he would be glad to bring 
 to Beldon Hall himself, and pass a few days in Mr. Romford's agreeable 
 company. And this letter, instead of being placed on the hall table, 
 was laid on the library chimney-piece, and the first intimation Facey 
 had of the coming guest was seeing a man of the Goodheart cut riding 
 a very superior-looking roan horse up towards the stables. At first, 
 
344 MR. FACEY ROMtfOSD's HOUNDS. 
 
 Facey thought it was Billy Barker, the brewer; then, that it was 
 Harry Blanton, the tanner; next, that it was very like Goodhearted 
 Green. 
 
 " And Goodhearted Green it is," said he, running up and seizing 
 him by the hand just as he was preparing to dismount. Then, as 
 Goodheart saw there was unusual surprise, he proceeded to inquire 
 about the letter, when mutual explanations and welcomes followed. 
 Facey was very glad to see Mr. Green, and Mr. Green was very glad 
 to see his good customer, Mr. Romford. Then the two looked at the 
 strawberry roan. He was, indeed, a fine horse, up to any weight : 
 corky and cheerful looking, but with rather a sinister cast of the eye 
 when anyone approached him. 
 
 "Has but one fault," said Goodheart, complacently; "has but one 
 fault — kick people over his 'ead as they mount; but easily hobviated," 
 added he; "easily hobviated — strap up a leg as you mount," pro- 
 ducing a strap from his pocket as he spoke. 
 
 ""Well, but you can't ride him across country on three legs," 
 observed Romford. 
 
 "True," assented Goodheart. "True; but then it's only a 
 momentary ebullition of spleen. Soon finds out when he has got his 
 master on his back, and then a child might ride him — ride him with a 
 thread." 
 
 " "Well, we'll try him," said Romford, now calling to Short, who 
 came rubbing his eyes, still half stupefied with his over-night exertions. 
 " Here, take this horse," said Romford, " and put him into the five- 
 stall stable, and send some one down to the Hall to say that Mr. Green 
 is come, and bid them get a bed ready, and some more sheep chops for 
 dinner." 
 
 The strong, persevering man then departed with his new charge; 
 and Facey, turning to his friend, said, "Now let you and oi take a 
 turn of the stables." 
 
 The two then entered the more genial atmosphere, and were pre- 
 sently deeply absorbed in the discussion of the condition and perform- 
 ance of Ben and the Baker, the peculiarities of Perfection, the 
 deficiencies of Everlasting, the action of Oliver Twist, and the looks 
 and eccentricities of the rest of the stud. 
 
 Lucy and Betsey were sorry that Mr. Green had not come in time for 
 the ball, which they felt certain he would have greatly enjoyed; while 
 Mr. Romford's anxieties were directed solely to the continuance of the 
 frost, fearing Goodheart might not get a turn with his brilliant hounds. 
 
 The ladies received Mr. Goodheart very cordially, feeling that he 
 would be useful in warding off any further attacks about the ball, and 
 
THE INFIRMARY BALL. 345 
 
 as Facey would not hear of any extra expense being incurred for 
 entertaining him, they did their best to make a great man of him by 
 putting him into the best bedroom, one that Lord Lovetin himself 
 would not have accorded to any one under the rank of a duke, or a 
 prince of the blood-royal, at least. There, under a magnificent 
 temple dike canopy, nestled the old horse-dealer, a man more accus- 
 tomed to the deficiencies of a garret than the delicacies of a dressing- 
 room. 
 
 Still Goodheart was a versatile, agreeable man ; and being only a 
 lowish sort of fellow — the son of a cabman — of course he had a great 
 knowledge of high life and Court proceedings, and could tell more of 
 what was passing at the Palace than any lord in waiting : so, what 
 with small talk for the ladies, and horsey talk for Facey, they got on 
 very well together ; and Goodheart was found to be a very agreeable 
 addition to the party. 
 
 CHAPTER LXIV. 
 
 THE INFIBJIAKY BALL. 
 
 The Beldon ball made a profound sensation in Doubleimup shire. 
 It was talked of far and near. Those who were there, lauded it to 
 the skies ; those who were not, set about contriving how they could 
 establish an acquaintance with our fair friend, Mrs. Somerville, so as 
 to get to another if she gave one. There was no longer any doubt or 
 hesitation in the matter. No more " Pray, who is this Mrs. Somer- 
 ville ? Do you know anything about Mrs. Somerville? Have you 
 called on Mrs. Somerville? Are you going to call on Mrs. Somer- 
 ville? Do you know if Lady Camilla Snuff has called on Mrs. 
 Somerville ? " It was all, " Oh, dear ! do you know Mrs. Somerville ? 
 I should so like to know Mrs. Somerville ? Charles, my dear, I must 
 have the carriage to go over and call on Mrs. Somerville ! " Then, on 
 the Friday following, the old "Doubleimupshire Herald," a muddlv 
 county paper that seemed to edit itself, varied its quack-medicine 
 advertisements with a list of the lady patronesses for the forthcomi: g 
 Infirmary Ball, in which Mrs. Somerville' s name headed the 
 commoners, coming before Mrs. Watkins, Mrs. Large, Mrs. Brogdale, 
 and many others who thought themselves very great ladies indeed. 
 And this interpolation had been made, notwithstanding the ball 
 
346 mr. facey romford's hounds. 
 
 had been fixed and the names published for some weeks before. Then 
 came a letter from the secretary, requesting to know how many tickets 
 he might have the honour of sending Mrs. Somerville, which brought 
 the matter fairly on the tapis — that is to say, under the cognizance of 
 Mr. Romford, whose little pig-eyes had detected the advertisement, 
 though he had not thought proper to mention it. Eold Betsey, as 
 usual, led the charge, taking advantage of a lull that occurred between 
 the consumption of a couple of bottles of Lord Lovetin's best Port, 
 and the adoption of gin and pipes by the gentlemen. At first, cunning 
 Facey pretended not to hear, being busy with his baccy ; so she 
 addressed herself to our friend the horse-dealer, who commenced 
 business with a cigar. 
 
 But Green was not quite bappy in good society. He was conscious 
 that he rather knocked his H's about. Indeed he and his friend Billy 
 Slater, the hatter of Bermondsey, had gone to the sign of the Mermaid 
 at Margate only the summer before the period of our story, and 
 Goodheart being spokesman had addressed the landlord (a cousin of 
 Skittles' s), who was smoking a Manilla with ineffable ease at the front 
 door, demanding to know if they " could have a couple of good hairy 
 bedrooms." Whereupon the landlord, taking his cigar from his mouth, 
 replied with a supercilious smile, " Well, I don't know; I can rub a 
 couple with bear's grease for you, if you like." And it was this not 
 knowing whether to put the H in, or to leave it out, that made Good- 
 heart uncomfortable. He knew that it was either one way or the 
 other, and his anxiety to be right very often made him wrong. He, 
 therefore, did not care to show off at the Infirmary Ball, and the long 
 list of fashionable patronesses had no attractions for him. But the 
 ladies, who saw the advantage, were all for going, and of course could 
 not do without the gentlemen. Oh what was to stop them from 
 going ? There was no hunting, and it would be something for them 
 to do. The melon-frame would hold four, or two inside and two out 
 if the gentlemen objected to the crinolines, and the cost of the con- 
 veyance would be all the same for four as for two. Then in answer to 
 Goodheart' s objections that he would'nt know any one, Lucy reminded 
 him that sho was a lady patroness, and her brother, Mr. Bomford, 
 hunting the country. Lastly, Goodheart played his real card, namely, 
 " that they would smoke him and blow him," which would be preju- 
 dicial to the Beldon Hall ladies, as well as to himself. This argument 
 rather told. Lucy was on her preferment, and must not do anything 
 to bring her down the ladder of society. The associate of countesses, 
 and viscountesses, and honourables must be discreet. Then Betsey 
 Shannon, whose counterfeit abilities were first-rate, and who knew 
 
THE INFIRMARY BALL. 347 
 
 the advantages of a high-sounding name herself, suggested that Mr. 
 Green might go under an assumed one, or a title if he liked. And 
 this idea being unanimously applauded, things began to get into the 
 grooves that Lucy and Betsey wanted them. Facey thought it would 
 be good fun to humbug the Larkspurites ; and they began to consider 
 what they should call Mr. Green — Lord Topboots, Lord Silverpow, 
 Lord Gammon, Lord Horseley, Lord T horoughpin, Lord Spavin, Lord 
 Stringhalt, Lord Glanders, and a variety of similar names. 
 
 "No, no," interposed Betsey, seeing they were making fun of it, 
 "that will not do; he shall not be a lord at all. That will only set 
 them looking into their Peerage, and pulling him to pieces." 
 
 " Let him be a Sir — Sir Somebody Something ; and then if they say 
 ' he's not a Bart,' you can say, ' no, he's a Knight; ' and if they saj* 
 'he's not a Knight,' you can say, 'no, but he's just going to be made 
 one,' or put it off in that way." And this idea being applauded too, 
 they began to try on other titles, just as Mrs. Sponge tried on names 
 when she changed her's from Sponge to Somerville. Sir Beginald 
 Rover, Sir Arthur Archduke, Sir Timothy Trotter, Sir Peter 
 
 "No, no," said Betsey, "let's have something that is neither too 
 fine, nor too low — something that will sound so natural as not to 
 create suspicion or inquiry, that will come trippingly off people's 
 tongues." 
 
 " Suppose we call him Sir Roger de Coverley," suggested Mrs. 
 Somerville, still thinking of the ball. 
 
 " No, that would be too theatrical," said Betsey ; " but we might call 
 him Sir Roger something else — Sir Roger Russell, Sir Roger Brown." 
 
 " Sir Roger Perguson 'spose," said Pacey. 
 
 "Very good name," rejoined Betsey, "very good name. Tour 
 servant, Sir Roger Perguson," said she, rising and making Goodheart 
 a low curtsey, just as she curtseyed for an encore at Highbury Barn. 
 
 And the man of the H's, finding there was no halterative, was at 
 length obliged to submit, and ultimately came in to tbe humour also 
 of having a star to decorate his coat on the occasion. This Betsey 
 Shannon undertook to procure from the same quarter as she did the 
 liveries and the uniform for Mr. Proudlock the keeper. 
 
 Behold, then, the auspicious evening — a bright starlight night — 
 with her now noble horse-dealer arrayed in a gentlemanly suit of 
 black, relieved by his glittering star and snow-white head. Mr. Rom- 
 ford, on the other hand, was gay and gaudy, scarlet Tick, white vest, 
 with his El Dorado shirt puffing out in front beneath a white tie, 
 altogether a very passable swell, and on very good terms with himself. 
 
 The ladies, we need scarcely say, were quite differently dressed to 
 
348 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 what they were at the Beldon hall, for who can be expected to appear 
 twice in the same costume — certainly not Mrs. Somerville, or her fair 
 friend Miss Hamilton Howard (vice Shannon), who had all the re- 
 sources of London dressmakers at their command. Nothing to do but 
 send off the order, and have the things down in no time. The coro- 
 netted Beldon Hall note-paper was as good as gold in the London 
 market, and Madame Elisa and Co. could never see too much of it. 
 It was always lying about their show-rooms. 
 
 Considering that there was so much money in Doubleimupshire, so 
 many teapot-handle-makers, so many Ten-and-a-half-per-Centers, it 
 was strange that they should have no better ball-room than what the 
 old town-hall at Butterwick, built on the principle of Goldsmith's 
 
 " Chests contrived a double debt to pay, 
 A bed by night, a chest of drawers by day," 
 
 supplied. Nay, indeed, it had harder work than the chest of drawers, 
 for it served as well for a corn and butcher market as a town-hail, 
 while by closing up the interstices between the great stone pillars on 
 which the brick edifice was raised, and opening a temporary staircase 
 on the left, the lower part of the hall served for a theatre as well. So 
 that, on an occasion like the present, the ball-comers might hear 
 Hamlet junior objurgating his too too solid flesh, or get their toes trod 
 on by the ghost of Hamlet senior stalking off the stage at cock-crow. 
 Nay, indeed, at certain times — for instance, when an army was in 
 motion, the setters-down had to wait for the nick of time before they 
 could effect a passing at all, j ust as children at the sea-side have to wait 
 till the receding wave gives them a chance of getting after their outward- 
 bound boats. On this occasion a leathern-lunged Richard was roaring 
 for his horse just as our Beldon party entered — " A horse ! a horse! 
 my kngdom for a horse ! " 
 
 " I'll suit you ! " exclaimed Goodheart in the same tone, ignorant 
 of the situation, and forgetful of his greatness. The side scenes 
 passed, and the sort of scaling-ladder staircase ascending, the adjuncts 
 to the ball-room were little better than the arrangements down below. 
 There was no cloak-room for the gentlemen, who had to hang their 
 hats and wraps up in the passage, while that for the ladies was of the 
 smallest, most circumscribed order, being, in fact, the apartment 
 occupied by the market keeper and his wife. 
 
 The ball-room, however, was large and lofty, seventy feet by fifty, 
 open up to the dark oak rafters of the roof. The walls were decorated 
 with town and country notabilities — some in peers' robes, some in 
 alder manic honours, some in plain clothes — all the work of first-rate 
 
TUE INFIRMARY BALL. 319 
 
 country artists, quite ready to set Mr. Ruskin and all the Royal 
 Academy at defiance. 
 
 Of course a great man like our Master was hailed long before he 
 got into the ball-room, and as Goodheart (now Sir Roger) and he- 
 stood waiting for the ladies — wondering what the deuce they were 
 doing — Facey had an opportunity of introducing the Baronet to some 
 of his acquaintances — Sir Roger Furguson, Mrs. Telford ; Mr. Bow- 
 man, Sir Roger Furgnson ; Sir Roger Furguson, Mr. Lightfoot. But 
 it was when the line of march was formed, and the gay-coloured party 
 appeared improvingly at the door-way, the decorated Sir Roger beau- 
 ing Mrs. Somerville, our red-coated Romford escorting Miss Shannon, 
 that the fever of excitement arose. 
 
 The opening dance was just over, the couples were sweeping the 
 floor with their trains, while the chaperones sat by criticising their 
 partners, some feeling satisfied, others thinking they could have made 
 a better selection. In a semicircular bay at the high end of the room, 
 wherein they adjusted as well the weights and scales as the conse- 
 quence of the county, was an imposing array of diamonded dowagers, 
 looking terribly severe in their dignity of state. These were the 
 titled patronesses, whose magnetic influence attracted sovereigns from 
 the pockets of parties little accustomed to voluntary contributions. 
 Even Ten-and-a-half-per-Cent. himself has been drawn. As the 
 Beldon party entered the room, and gradually approached the crescent 
 of consequence, eye-glasses were raised, and inquiries were — " "Who 
 are these?" "Who have we here?" eliciting whispers of — " Oh I 
 this will be Mrs. Somerville." " This will be Mr. Romford's sister." 
 The first questions being quickly followed by — " "Who is this with 
 her ? " " Who is the man with the star ? " A question that was not 
 quite so easily answered. 
 
 On, on, our gallant party went, just as Lord Cardigan went against 
 the cannon, only instead of charging right into them, they now 
 wheeled round, our fair friends feeling satisfied that the dowagers 
 could not take any more exception to the backs of their dresses than 
 they could to the fronts. So they sailed slowly down the room again, 
 looking out for admiration as they went. 
 
 Before, however, the party had got half way down the room there 
 was a run upon our fair friends, Ten-and-a-half-per-Cent. claiming 
 Mrs. Somerville, while young Joseph Large and Lovetin Lonnergan 
 hastily disposed of their then partners in order to be first for Miss 
 Howard. Large, however, got the lady, Lovetin not being able to 
 find his partner's chaperone so soon as the other, but Miss Howard 
 made it all right by a sweet smile, and saying, " I'll dance next danc« 
 
350 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 with you, Mr. Lonnergan." So Lovetin stood by, admiring her elegant 
 figure and performance, thinking if father would but die he would 
 marry her and set her up in Flush House to-morrow. Then came 
 Lovjtin's turn — a quadrille — and Miss Howard was equally assiduous 
 with him, for, with a father to die on each side, there really was not 
 any great choice between the two thick-headed suitors. Large then 
 had the pleasure of looking on and seeing that "lout Lovetin" getting 
 all the sweet dimple-making smiles and smirks which, with a certain 
 quantity of eye and tongue work, constitute what ladies call flirtation. 
 Then, as they couldn't both dance with her at once, they began to 
 engage Mrs. Somerville for what Facey called the "bye days," and 
 she adroitly insinuated to each that he was the especial favourite, and 
 that Miss Howard did not care a halfpenny for the other. She also 
 intimated Miss Howard would have a large fortune from her grand- 
 mother, who was very old and much addicted to drink. Thus quickened, 
 each resolved, if possible, to steal a march upon the other. 
 
 Facey and Sir Roger were thus left alone, and Facey renewed his 
 introductions of his friend — Mr. Crackenthorpe, Sir Roger Furguson ; 
 Sir Roger Furguson, Mr. Elsome ; Mr. Thomas Tongue, Sir Roger 
 Furguson. And Mr. Tongue, who was a general acquaintanceship 
 man, believed he had had the honour of meeting Sir Roger before at 
 their mutual friend Lord Lumbago's, if he mistook not ; a fact that 
 Sir Roger then perfectly recollected, and was much obliged to his 
 friend, Mr. Tongue, for reminding him. And Sir Roger tendered his 
 hand very cordially in return. Then the two old friends walked about 
 the room, and when people afterwards asked Tongue who that was 
 with the star, he replied, " Oh, that's my old friend, Sir Roger Fur- 
 guson ; haven't seen him these twenty years, never since we met at 
 our poor friend Lord Lumbago's." 
 
 And Sir Roger Ferguson, being now pretty well laid in for acquaint- 
 ance, told Romford not to mind him any more, but to get himself 
 suited with a nice useful little short-legged woman, and go in for a 
 dance. And the lisper making the grand entry just at the moment, 
 our hero claimed her fair hand at once for a waltz, which he executed 
 so clumsily as to draw forth a mental observation from Sir Roger that 
 Mr. R. must be a better hand at riding than he was at dancing. And 
 the dowagers, having now reconnoitred Sir Roger from afar, and think- 
 ing he was a nice wholesome-looking man with his clean linen, snow- 
 white head and roseate hue, began to negotiate for an introduction, 
 and think of admitting of his star into their august circle, for which 
 purpose Lady de Tabby, who was a regular pedigree monger, instructed 
 Mr. Thomas Tongue to tell his friend that a cousin of Ladv Ferguson's 
 
THE INFIRMARY BALL. 351 
 
 would be glad to make his (Sir Roger's) acquaintance. And, though 
 there was no regular Lady Ferguson for Lady de Tabby to claim rela- 
 tionship with, yet he went boldly in for the introduction, and was 
 presently seated between Lady de Tabby and the Honourable Mrs. 
 Freezer, to whom he was presently introduced by her ladyship. And 
 Lady de Tabby, not driving the relationship scent beyond the first 
 brush, Sir Roger let it drop also, and was pi'esently engaged in criti- 
 cising what he called the "field;" this girl's looks, that one's figure 
 and performances. Some he thought clever, but others, he said, wanted 
 condition sadly. Thus Romford gained credit by Goodheart, and 
 Goodheart lost nothing, except perhaps a few H's, which the noise of 
 the room concealed as they fell. 
 
 Meanwhile the ball proceeded with great vigour; the floor was 
 good, barring certain sockets about the centre of the room, used far 
 setting up the apparatus of conjurers and chairmen of quarter sessions, 
 which those who had hit their toes against once, took care not to come 
 in contact with a second time if they could help it, and though the 
 three-and-fourpenny tea was a poor substitute for Lord Love tin's 
 Cliquot champagne, so freely dispensed at Beldon Hall, yet it was 
 better than nothing, and served to make a break in the evening's 
 amusements. And in due time Sir Roger Ferguson sailed grandly 
 up the middle of the room with Lady de Tabby on one arm, and the 
 Honourable Mrs. Freezer on the other, looking as consequential as a 
 Lord Mayor in full fig. And Lady Camilla Snuff, who was in pretty 
 much the same line of business as Lady de Tabby, and of course didn't 
 like her, wondered who the pushing, tuft-hunting woman had got hold 
 of now. Both the ladies in possession thought Sir Roger very agree- 
 able, though he did not reciprocate by singing 
 
 " How happy could I be with either," &c. 
 
 The fact was, Sir Roger would rather have been in bed. 
 
 And Mrs. Somerville played her cards so well between tbe rival 
 suitors that Lovetin Lonnergan, who was the most ardent and impul- 
 sive of the two, screwed up his courage during the dancing of the 
 " Lancers" to sound Betsey Shannon if she would accept him condi- 
 tionally — that is to say, accept him and keep the thing snug until 
 father would be good enough to die, which he insinuated could not be 
 very long, as he was seventy-six years of age, and getting very shaky 
 on his pins. And Betsey, having the grande ronde of the dance to con- 
 sider the matter in, recollecting that Large had a father too, a tougher- 
 looking one than Lord Lonnergan, and tbat an offer was an offer — a 
 good thing under any circumstances, she made as pretty a downcast 
 
352 MR. FACEY ROMFORDS HOUNDS. 
 
 simpering acceptance as she could raise, and at the conclusion of the 
 dance was led, not to the hymenial altar, but to a smoking hot Glad- 
 stone claret cup now placed on the tea-table at the lower end of the 
 room, wherein they pledged each other their troth. 
 
 " Mrs. Lovetin Lonnergan, your very good health." 
 
 "Mr. Lonnergan, your good health," whispered Betsey, turning her 
 beautiful blue eyes full upon him. So tbey clenched the bargain. 
 
 Then meeting Mrs. Somerville, who was now fanning the flame 
 of young Large's ardour, telling him about the rich grandmamma 
 addicted to drink, Betsey gave her a knowing look which, with a 
 slight sideways jerk of her pretty head at her partner, as good as said 
 "I've captured this cock." 
 
 And the Honourable Lovetin Lonnergan, flushed with success and the 
 influence of the claret cup, looked at his opponent in a triumphant sort 
 of way, as much as to say, " I pity you, old boy ! " But Large, nothing 
 daunted by the haughty appearance of the tenant in possession — on the 
 contrary, rather encouraged by the agreeable intelligence just conveyed 
 by Mrs. Somerville — returned his supercilious stare with another, and a 
 tolerably loud exclamation of "What a lout that young Lonnergan is ! " 
 
 And now Mrs. Somerville, having primed them both, and Sir Roger 
 Ferguson having got rid of his tabbies, Mrs. Somerville and he did 
 the consequential up and down the ball- room together, eliciting bets 
 from the acute and censorious as to how long it would be before she 
 was Lady Ferguson. 
 
 " Too old for her by half," said one. 
 
 " Ah, but a ' star,' will compensate for all that," observed another. 
 
 " Fresh old fellow, too," muttered a third. 
 
 "What will old Bonus say?" asked a fourth. 
 
 " Never marry such an old rat as that," said a fifth. 
 
 Then the music sprang up again, and Sir Boger and Mrs. Somer- 
 ville stood criticising the performers, remarking on this one's head, 
 that one's shoulders, t'other one's feet. People do not work them- 
 selves so severely at a pay ball as they do at a gratis one. They seem 
 as if they could get enough for their money, and having had it, go 
 away. Whether it is the absence of the Cliquot, or gooseberry, as the 
 case may be, or that they think it does not look well to stay too late, 
 we know not; but certain it is, that there is always a great deal ol 
 forethought and arrangement about getting away. 
 
 On this occasion the stately patronesses began to move first ; and 
 Sir Boger Ferguson's services were again enlisted in calling up and 
 putting them into their carriages, which he did with the ease and agility 
 of a London linkman. Then all the chaj>erones began looking at their 
 
THE INFIRMARY BALL. 353 
 
 variously-going watches, trying amongst them to cast the nativity of 
 the time, followed by rushes at their panting yet avoiding charges, 
 urging them not to engage themselves for any more dances, assuring 
 them, perhaps, that the carriage had been called up a dozen times, or 
 that it was an hour and a-half later than it really was. So at length 
 the effervescence of the evening gradually died out ; and, in lieu of 
 sparkling eyes and twirling gauze, hooded nun-like ladies were seen 
 hurrying along the passage, enveloped in the wraps and disguises of 
 the night. Then came the descent of the scaling-ladder, the groping 
 past the wings of the now deserted stage, and the ascent into the great 
 family coach, or the squeeze into the curiously contrived turbot-Avells 
 of modern times. Away they drive, amid the varied thoughts and reflec- 
 tions of the hour. Those who had done well hug themselves with the 
 recollection of it ; those who have done little make the most of that 
 little, and, casting forward to the future, hope for better luck another 
 time. Foremost in the happy party was our friend Betsey Shannon, 
 who could hardly wait until the melon -frame got clear of the jolty 
 cobble-stones of Butterwick ere she announced to her fair companion . 
 (Sir Roger and Facey being outside), that she had brought him to book. 
 
 " "Well, which?" exclaimed Lucy, who had forwarded both their suits 
 bo evenly as to be unable to say which was likely to be the winner. 
 
 " Lovetin /" replied Betsey, with emphasis. 
 
 "Bravo, Lovetin!" exclaimed Lucy, clapping her pretty hands. 
 "Bravo, Lovetin!" repeated she. "Ah, now! if father would but 
 die," she added, with a laugh. 
 
 "Well, it's not to be till then," rejoined Betsey. 
 
 "Ah, but I wouldn't stand that," said Lucy. " Make him marry 
 you now, dear, and keep it snug till father does die, if Lovetin likes. 
 'Safe bind, safe find,' is a capital maxim." 
 
 " Well, but suppose he won't ? " said Betsey, who did not like to 
 lose the chance of being Mrs. Lonnergan. 
 
 "Then take t'other chap; he's quite as good a catch as Lovetin, 
 only his pa is a little younger ; but then, on the other hand, they say 
 Pippin Priory is a much better place than Flush House." 
 
 "True," ruminated Betsey, "true;" adding, "either would do 
 very well." 
 
 " He's sure to offer," observed Lucy, " sure to offer. I'm only 
 surprised he hasn't done it to-night. I primed him up that you were 
 a member of one of the oldest families in Wales, and had a boskey old 
 grandmother at Leighton-Buzzard, who would leave you a hatful of 
 money." 
 
 "Indeed," laughed Betsey, joyfully. "Anything better than 
 
 A A. 
 
354 mr. facey romford's hounds. 
 
 dancing at Highbury Barn. If Large has the pull in the face -way, 
 t'other has it in the figure." 
 
 " Oh, all cats are grey in the dark," rejoined Lucy. " You catch 
 one of them, and get a home of your own ; for there's nothing so bad 
 as dependence." 
 
 "True," assented Miss Shannon. 
 
 The two ladies then leant back in the carriage, each following a 
 line of scent of her own; Betsey thinking what a dash she would 
 cut at Flush House ■ (for the Honourable had inducted her into the 
 anticipated carriage splendour), Lucy thinking how to play Large off 
 against Lonnergan, so as to secure one or other for her friend. At 
 length Lucy spoke, breaking in upon an imaginary carriage airing 
 that Betsey was taking with her lovely Lonnergan. 
 
 " Oh, I would make him marry you off-hand now," said she, revert- 
 ing to her former position. "If he won't, Joe Large will. Indeed, 
 as I said before, I only wonder he didn't offer to-night." 
 
 "Well, I think he will," replied Betsey; " only, as he seemed to 
 be leading up to the point, that stupid matter-of-fact hatter came up, 
 and would have me to dance with him, and stuck to us till I did." 
 
 " Stupid marplot !" muttered Lucy; "these sort of boobies think 
 that people come to balls to do nothing but dance ; whereas every one 
 knows that the real business of a ball is either to look out for a wife, 
 to look after a wife, or to look after somebody else's wife. However, 
 never mind," continued she, drawing the buffalo skin coverlid up to her 
 chin, "never mind. Large will come to call before long, and then we 
 will see what we can do, for ' sharp ' must be the word, — first come 
 first served, the rule. Such chances as these don't occur every day ; 
 and though people are good enough to take us at our own price at pre- 
 sent, yet there is no saying how soon a change may come, and then they 
 would be equally furious the other way ; so we must just strike while 
 the iron's hot, and capture one or other of the idiots." 
 
 So saying, she gradually sunk off in a doze, and the next thing that 
 occurred was the tapping of Independent Jimmy's great knuckles at the 
 melon-frame window, announcing that they were back at BeldonHall. 
 
 "Noo, then, get oot ! " said he, clattering down the harsh iron 
 steps, and leaving them to effect the descent as they could. 
 
 The ladies and gentlemen hurried into the house, and discarding 
 their wraps, they awoke Dirtiest of the Dirty, who was dosing over 
 the breakfast-i oom fire, dreaming of Percival Pattycake. They dis- 
 cussed the events of the evening over some of Lord Lovetin's best 
 cognac brandy ; and at twenty minutes to four, Mr. Bomford moved 
 the adjournment of the debate. 
 
CHAPTER LXV. 
 
 THE COUNTESS OF CArEEIXGTON. 
 
 Mrs. Somerville was right in the advice she gave Miss Shannon, 
 when coming home from the Infirmary Ball, to get married as quick as 
 she could, for things at Beldon Hall had gone so extremely well that 
 Lucy feared a reverse. 
 
 She thought it was too good to last. "We often see things in this 
 world go so smoothly at first that there seems no chance of a failure, 
 when all of a sudden they take a turn, and down they come with a 
 run. Certainly, amongst them our friends at Beldon Hall combined 
 as much duplicity as could well be contained in a party of four. First 
 there was Mr. Eomford, acting the turbot -on-its-tail, deceiving poor 
 Lord Lovetin, Lord Lonnergan, and all ; then there was Mrs. Sponge, 
 calling herself Mrs. Somerville, and Betsey Shannon, arrogating the dis- 
 tinguished name of Hamilton Howard ; and now the old Clerkenwell 
 " ' oss dealer," Mr. Goodhearted Green, passing himself off for a baronet. 
 
 All or any were liable to be detected at any moment — Mr. Eomford 
 by Lord Lovetin' s making his long- meditated journey to England, 
 Mrs. Somerville by the frequenters of theatres and cigar shops, Miss 
 Shannon by half the counter-skippers in London, and Sir Eoger 
 Fergusson by any stray tourist or stableman with whom he had ever 
 done business. 
 
 The only way our friends bore up against the accumulation of 
 deceit was, by never thinking of the consequences. Enough for the 
 day was the evil thereof, they all felt. There was no disputing one 
 thing, namely, that they had been most wonderfully favoured, and 
 that people seemed quite as much inclined to deceive themselves as 
 they were to deceive them. But a day of reckoning always comes at 
 last, though in this case neither man nor woman was the immediate 
 cause of its advent. 
 
 Leotard, the wondrous Leotard, the cream-coloured lady's horse, who 
 has already played such a conspicuous part in on v story, was now 
 destined to fulfil still greater achievements. The last we heard of 
 him was, when the boy Bill satisfied himself of hi? paces by private 
 trial at Tarring Neville, while Mr. Eomford and Mrs. Somerville were 
 
 A A 2 
 
356 mr. facey eomford's iiouxds. 
 
 regaling after the hunt with the considerate Mrs. "Watkins's bag fox. 
 Since then Mrs. Somerville had ridden Leotard with varying success 
 and satisfaction, the horse sometimes going remarkably well, some- 
 times only middling — oftener, perhaps, middling than well — at other 
 times ill, or rather not at all. Lucy, however, never risked au open 
 rupture with him. If she found he was going to be queer, she went 
 home with him, pretending that his way was hers also. So the horse 
 maintained his reputation for beauty and docility. Mrs. Somerville 
 and her horse were always greatly admired : people were proud to 
 open the gates for her. 
 
 Foremost among the horse's admirers was Independent Jimmy's 
 friend, Mr. Hazey, or Second-hand Harry, as he was commonly 
 called. Hazey was always on the look-out for horses, not so 
 much to supply his own wants as to know where to lay hands on 
 them, in case he could place them to advantage, — that is to say, get a 
 little more for them than he gave. He was always touting, and sneak- 
 ing, and " do-you-know-any thing -to -suit-me-ing ? " every man he met. 
 Cheating in horses has become quite a science. Formerly the 
 dealers had the monopoly, but what they now facetiously call the 
 "gentlemen" have trod heavily on their heels of late. They are 
 more skilful, more unscrupulous, and, we really think, lie better. 
 The fact is, the real professionals haven't time to concoct the in- 
 genious and elaborate schemes now hit off by the disengaged idler. 
 Moreover, the amateurs have access to society that the dealers have not ; 
 know the haunts and habits of victims better, and how to cajole them. 
 
 What is the waste of a week to a man who has nothing whatever 
 to do but sit in the Park and pick his teeth with a quill ? But time is 
 money with a horse-dealer. He may have to be in Edinburgh, or 
 Exeter, or Horncastle, while the other gentleman is arranging his 
 plant. 
 
 Hazey had a great connection in what Mr. Thackeray would have 
 called the " Roundabout" line — many touts, many spies, many stable 
 sneaks, many idle gentlemen, looking out for him. He knew how to 
 keep the lower order of veterinary surgeons in good humour, so as 1o 
 get them to pass almost anything. One of his cardinal rules was, 
 never to tell where a horse came from. If he bought him in Cheshire, 
 he would declare he came from Shropshire : if he came from the east, 
 he would say he came from the west. In this there was good policy, 
 for there is nothing so easy as to find out all about a horse, provided 
 you can but find out where he comes from. Every ostler and helper 
 <;an tell you something, and they generally speak truly, too. Tommy 
 will "mind" his being foaled ; Jacky will remember his being backed ; 
 
THE COUNTESS OF CAPEMXGT02J. 357 
 
 Tomldns can tell when he was shod ; and plenty will remember when 
 he first came out with the hounds, with Willy Winship on his back, 
 who, of course, showed them all the way. 
 
 Now, as ill luck would have it, among Mr. Hazey's many mis- 
 cellaneous friends, was the well-known Captain Coper, late of that 
 distinguished corps, the Horse Marines, who, at this juncture, knew a 
 man who knew a " female woman" who knew a gentleman who knew 
 the Hight Honourable the Countess of Caperington, and her ladyship 
 wanted a horse — a perfect lady's horse — for which her noble husband 
 would give any reasonable price. And a lady in that position not being 
 likely to remain long unsuited, — at all events, unsolicited, — she was 
 presently besieged with horses of all sorts and sizes : bay horses, brown 
 horses, black horses, a great variety of horses ; but unless a party 
 is properly introduced, that is to say, has made a satisfactory 
 arrangement with the middle -man, he has very little chance of 
 effecting a deal, and the Countess had rejected horse after horse 
 that might have suited her uncommonly well if they had not 
 been crabbed by the go-between, who, of course, had not been pro- 
 perly propitiated. 
 
 At length Captain Coper (who had then lately been rusticating 
 " over the water ") heard of her Ladyship's want, and bestirred him- 
 self to supply it. Resolving in his capacious mind the various parties 
 he had done business with, he came to the conclusion that Mr. Hazey, 
 being a master of hounds, would be the most likely (supposing they 
 could agree upon terms) to supply the deficiency and obtain a long 
 price. So he wrote " Dear Hazey " a letter, asking what he had in the 
 lady's horse line, and the per-centage he would stand for an introduc- 
 tion to a real live Countess in want of a perfect picture of a horse. 
 And Hazey, albeit he had a horse or two that had something in the 
 habit line, to wit, Bill's gallant grey, and a bay that dug its toes- 
 into the ground at each tenth step, and shied at everything it 
 met on the road, yet he still thought they were hardly up to the 
 exalted honour of carrying a Countess — no doubt a pretty one, as 
 Countesses always are. If she had been a commoner, he would have 
 tried it on with these, declaring there were not two such paragons in 
 in the world, and were both so good that he didn't care which he sold. 
 
 But a Countess might be made available in a variety of ways : she 
 might call on Mr. Hazey in London — she might present Anna Maria at 
 Court, perhaps, which would be extremely agreeable. And the thought 
 of Anna Maria presently brought Mr. Bomford to his recollection, and 
 in due course came Mrs. Somerville and her beautiful cream-coloured 
 horse. "Ah, there now! — there was an animal!" mused Hazey, 
 
358 MR. FACEY ROMFOKD's HOUNDS. 
 
 ttdth a chuck of his chin; "the very thing, if Mrs. Somerville would 
 hut sell him. And there was no saying but she might sell him — didn't 
 see why she shouldn't sell him. He was sure he would sell him if he 
 had him, and could get a good price." Then the recollection of Facey 
 and the hospital for decayed sportsmen rather checked him. They might 
 be extra-independent, to be sure, but still he didn't see why he mightn't 
 sound them ; so he set Bill to set Silkey, to set Storey the horse-breaker, 
 to set big Ptumbold the veterinary surgeon of Burchester, to ferret out 
 what chance there was of Mrs. Somerville selling Leotard. 
 
 And now, whilst they are busy prosecuting their inquiries, we will 
 Bay a few words respecting the Counters of Caperington herself. 
 
 The Bight Honourable the Countess of Caperington, we need 
 scarcely say, was not always the Countess of Caperington : no, nor 
 anything approaching one. In fact, she began life as an actress, as 
 Miss Spangles of the Theatre Boyal, Bungington. Here her beauty 
 and ardent coquetry captivated a fast young baronet, the late Sir 
 
 Harry Scattercash, of Nonsuch House in G shire. Miss Spangles 
 
 became Lady Scattercash, and did the honours- of the house with great 
 liberality so long as there was any house to do the honours in. All 
 the sockand-buskin tribe had a hearty welcome at Nonsuch House, 
 and long and serious were the symposia that ensued. Mrs. Somer- 
 ville, then Lucy Glitters, had the run of the house, and it is not 
 unlikely that what she there saw taught her how to manage matters 
 at Beldon Hall. And of all the sock-and-buskin tribe none was more 
 truly welcome than that celebrated actor Mr. Orlando Bugles, late of 
 the Surrey Theatre. Bugles had a bed whenever he liked to run 
 down : nor was he shy in availing himself of his privilege. 
 
 Drinking, however, is only a question of time, and sooner or 
 later has always the same ending. "Worn out with debauchery and 
 premature decay, Sir Harry Scattercash presently departed this life 
 at the early age of thirty-two, and where could the lovely widow seek 
 for sweeter solace than on the manly bosom of Mr. Bugles. Lady 
 Scattercash married him. But beloved Orlando, we are sorry to say, 
 took to evil ways also — brandy-and- water was his bane too ; and twice 
 in three years Lady Scattercash found herself a widow. Having seen 
 Bugles buried, " b-e-a-u-tifully put away," as she described it, she 
 again came to town, and presently terminated an engagement at the 
 Lord Lowther music saloon by running awa}\ The next thing heard of 
 her was, that she had become the Countess of Caperington ! How this 
 came about nobody knows but the Eaid and Countess themselves, and 
 being a lady before the marriage this match excited far less attention than 
 it would have done had it been contracted with Miss Spangles. Sir 
 
THE COUNTESS OF CAPERINGTON. 359 
 
 Charles Bridoon, the next taker of the title, or the Ladies Caresson, 
 the Earl's sisters, might complain and say, "Who is this Lady 
 Scattercash ? " but the world at large were content to take her 
 Ladyship as a true and correct Countess. And, indeed, so far as looks 
 were concerned, she was an ornament to the Peerage, for she was just 
 in the full development of womanly beauty — fat, fair, and thirty, 
 with as much ease and vivacity as Betsey Shannon herself. The Earl 
 was as proud of her as if he had married her first-hand, and was never 
 tired of contemplating her beautiful face under a variety of bonnets. 
 Not only bonnets, but hats, caps, hoops, everything that appeared in 
 the chronicles of fashion, "When her Ladyship's carriage drew up with 
 a dash at Mrs. Slyboots' the milliner's, in the commercial town of 
 Worryworth, there used to be such a commotion raised in the shop, to 
 the neglect of all the rest of the customers, Mrs. Boots breaking off 
 in her recommendation of thirteen-and-ninepenny bonnets for two 
 guineas, with " Mary ! " "Jane!" "Susan!" to her elegant young 
 people who were serving, " look out ! — look out ! Here's the Countess 
 of Caperington coming ! — here's the Countess of Caperington coming !" 
 as if all people's wants were to succumb to those of her Ladyship. 
 Then there was such curtseying, "your Lady shipping," and worshipping, 
 as if nobody's custom was worth anything compared to her Ladyship's. 
 Our business at present, however, is to get the Countess a horse ; so, 
 leaving her to turn over the contents of Mrs. Slyboots' shop at her 
 leisure, we will proceed to inquire after Mr. Hazey's success in the 
 equestrian line. 
 
CHAPTER LXVI. 
 
 THE DEAL. 
 
 Mr. Rcmboed, the veterinary surgeon, did not take much by his 
 journey to Beldon Hall. The fact was, Mr. Facey had his servants 
 better drilled than to give information to people merely because they 
 wanted to have it ; and our friend being a bit of a vet himself, Rum- 
 bold was just about the last man he wanted to see hanging about his 
 stables. Nor was Hazey more successful with either Jowers the 
 blacksmith, or Mr. Golightly the exciseman : for Chowey spun one of 
 them out of his stable, and Swig the other. And Captain Coper 
 being exigeant, — having, as he wrote, many applications from other 
 parties anxious to suit the fair Countess with a horse, Hazey was 
 obliged to " Dear Romford " our hero, and to have recourse to the lie 
 applicable to the occasion. Thus he wrote : — 
 
 " Tarring Neville, 
 
 " Thursday night. 
 
 "Dear Romford. — I chanced to hear out hunting to-day that Mrs. 
 Somerville has some thought of parting with her cream-coloured horse 
 (Blondin, I think she calls him) ; and I write to say that if it should 
 happen to be the case, I think I know of a lady who would be likely 
 to be a purchaser. Of course, at this time of year, ladies' horses are 
 not in great demand ; but I think, with a little management, we might 
 get what is fair and right, which I am sure is all that either of us 
 would think of requiring. I hope this sale, if true, is not a sign of 
 Mrs. Somerville's departure, for we can ill afford to lose so ornamental 
 an appendage to our hunting -fields and to society in general. Mrs. 
 Hazey and my daughter beg their kind regards to her and Miss 
 Herbert, with, my dear Romford, 
 
 " Yours very truly, 
 
 " Francis Romford, Esq., " H. Hazey. 
 
 "Beldon Hall, 
 " Doubleimupshire." 
 
 The letter came very opportunely, for Sir Roger Ferguson was still 
 
THE DEAL. 3G1 
 
 at Beldon Hall, which enabled our Master to arrange with him the price 
 of the horse, as well as to use Sir Roger as an incentive to the intending 
 purchaser. There is generally a fat goose in every hunt, who is the 
 reputed purchaser of all the horses that other people want to sell, 
 and your regular "sticker" for price can never give a direct 
 answer, without first indulging in a great, long exordium as to what 
 said goose will give. So Sir Roger was now selected to fill the honour- 
 able post of puffer to Leotard. Lucy therefore wrote, on her own 
 account, to say that her horse was for sale, and, by a singular coinci- 
 dence, their friend, Sir Roger Ferguson, was anxious to purchase him 
 for a Park hack for himself; but, hearing that a lady wanted him, 
 with his usual gallantry, the worthy Baronet consented to waive his 
 preference, and let Mr. Hazey's friend have the refusal of him. Then, 
 without saying anything about the horse's merits, defects, or pecu- 
 liarities, she branched off upon the weather, hoping the frost would 
 soon give, and enable the poor pent-up fox-hunter to take the field I 
 and reciprocated Miss Hamilton Howard's and her own good wishes to 
 Mrs. Hazey and family, and volunteered to send Mr. Romford's and 
 Sir Roger's also. 
 
 Then, in a postscript, she adroitly added, that Sir Roger had offered 
 £150 for Leotard, at which price Mr. Hazey could have him. 
 
 The answer rather staggered friend Hazey, for £150 was a London 
 price — quite an immense one in the country, where they expect to get 
 two or three horses for that money ; added to which, Hazey's own 
 profit and Captain Coper's regulars would bring the price up to a 
 couple of hundred. Then, on the other hand, there was a Countess 
 and a Baronet to operate upon; and, all things considered, Hazey 
 thought he should not be doing himself injustice if he wrote Coper 
 word he had a perfect animal at command for £175 ; adding, that the 
 Countess must be quick in her decision, for there was a Baronet after 
 the horse, who didn't stick at price. Hazey then gave a very minute 
 description of Leotard, so glowing and flattering that few could resist 
 him. 
 
 Coper was a dashing dealer, always rounding his figures and going 
 for guineas, and immediately made Hazey's £175 into two hundred 
 guineas, at which price he wrote the man who knew the " female 
 woman " who knew the gentleman who was acquainted with the 
 Countess of Caperington, that a perfect lady's horse could be had. 
 He also copied the descriptive part of Mr. Hazey's letter, and dwelt 
 on the fact of the Baronet's competition. And the offer, in due course, 
 came to the Countess. 2fow, two hundred guineas is a longish price 
 for a hack ; but then it is a price that carries such respectability with 
 
862 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 it as almost to supersede the necessity of circumspection. Who would 
 think of asking two hundred guineas for a horse that was not some 
 thing out of the common way. A twenty-pounder is always a 
 suspicious animal ; but three-figure horses sell themselves. Moreover, 
 the Countess fancied the cream-colour ; thought she would look well 
 upon it, with its flowing mane and tail ; and so there was nothing 
 for it but to have it. A cheque was therefore transmitted by the 
 circuitous route that the message had come. Coper then docked off 
 his "regulars;" Hazey took his; and, finally, Mrs. Somerville 
 received a hundred and fifty pounds for a horse that Goodhearted 
 Green had bought for the various sums of thirteen pounds, twelve, and 
 eleven. 
 
 Not that Lucy got the money : but Mr. Hazey' s cheque was drawn 
 in her favour ; and she had to indorse it ere Mr. Romford and Good- 
 heart could manipulate the money, according to the peculiar arrange- 
 ment that existed between them, 
 
CHAPTER LXVIL 
 
 THE DISASTER. 
 
 The Earl and Countess of Caperington were staying at their seat, 
 Caperington Castle, enjoying the old-womanly sport oibattueing, when 
 the wondrous Leotard arrived. Here they were, entertaining a semi- 
 distinguished party — not quite good enough to advertise, perhaps, but 
 still very sounding in titles. Two or three dowagers, who lived half 
 the year at their own expense and half at other people's; some distin- 
 guished foreigners, some equally distinguished Englishmen. The 
 guests being chiefly of the adhesive order, were about tired of each 
 other ; consequently anything that created conversation was extremely 
 acceptable. Leotard now furnished some. 
 
 He was greatly praised and admired by all — all excepting Mr. 
 Bustler, who called himself his Lordship's stud-groom, though the stud 
 only consisted of a few poneys. Bustler had not been properly pro- 
 pitiated in the £ — s — d transaction, and thought Leotard had been 
 punctured for a spavin, though nothing of the sort had ever been done. 
 Indeed, if Leotard's mental qualifications had been as good as his 
 bodily ones, he would have been a very nice horse, and well worth a 
 hundred pounds. But, like many bipeds, he could better bear 
 adversity than prosperity, and as soon as ever he got his condition up 
 a little, back came all his bad qualities. He then would not do any- 
 thing he didn't like, and if coerced, resented it. He then either kicked 
 the party over his head, or, in the language of the low dealer, 
 " saluted the general " — that is to say, reared up on end. 
 
 Now Leotard, with a perversity that had always distinguished him, 
 went perfectly well on the first days of trial : the Countess's way 
 being apparently his, and the Countess's pace also. When, however, 
 he became better acquainted with the roads and the country, he began 
 to exercise a judgment of his own ; and one day, when the Countess 
 wanted to canter across the grass sidings of the llosendale road, to meet 
 the overladen market coaches, Leotard insisted upon taking her to 
 Tewkesbury. Not that he had any acquaintance at Tewkesbury — 
 indeed, we dare say if she had pulled him up for Tooksbury, as she 
 called it, he would have insisted upon going to Bosendale. It was 
 
364 mr. facey romford's hounds. 
 
 just a spirit of contradiction — a sort of equine awkwardness that no. 
 body could account for. The Countess, however, had a spirit too; and, 
 moreover, had no idea of a horse, for which her noble husband had 
 given such a liberal price, presuming to exercise a will of his own. 
 So she just administered the whip — one, two, three ; but before she 
 got four the horse was up straight on end, and the Countess was down 
 over his tail. It was just Mrs. Rowley Rounding over again. Then 
 off went the horse, full tilt at first, but not finding himself pursued, 
 he relaxed into a snorting, tail-distended, head-diverging trot, as 
 though he were surveying the landscape — much after the manner of 
 the Benicia Boy. General chasers made a " click" at him, as they 
 called it ; but Leotard evaded them all, and entered Caperington Park 
 just as the noble Earl and his party opened fire on the rabbits on Four- 
 burrow Hill. Then there was such a commotion, and sending off, and 
 running heel, to track the offender back to the site of the dissolution 
 of partnership. The Countess, however, had tucked up her habit, and 
 one of the before-mentioned overladen market coaches coming up, she 
 hailed it, and made three on the box, sitting between the coachman 
 and a puffy butcher from Bassetlaw. Thus she met the affrighted 
 party, easing their minds but not her own, for she was very angry 
 with the horse, and wanted to give him a good whipping. When, 
 however, she saw him stand and deliver Mr. Bustler like a shot, she 
 thought she had better do it by deputy; still more so when she saw a 
 helper share her own fate. The horse was then unanimously pro- 
 nounced to be vicious. 
 
 At this juncture there appeared upon the scene our rosy-gilled, 
 Bilvery-haired friend, now no longer Sir Roger Ferguson, but the old 
 original Goodhearted Green, of Brown Street, Bagnigge "Wells Road. 
 Goodheart was so overcome with grief at the Countess's misfortunes, 
 that he could scarcely find utterance for his sorrow. " Oh dear, he was 
 distressed ! he was 'urt ! he didn't know the time when he had been 
 so put about ! Hadn't slept a wink for two nights for thinkin' on't. 
 The Countess ought never to get on to such a quadruped again. He 
 knew the 'oss — wicked, mistetched animal, that had been turned out 
 of half the stables in London. People that sold such 'osses ought to 
 be indicted for conspiracies." And after a good deal of similar palaver- 
 ment, he concluded by saving he thought he knew a man who would 
 give fourteen or fifteen pound for him ; which Goodheart affirmed was 
 more than he was worth. And though it certainly was a miserably 
 dejected figure to take for a two-hundred-guinea horse, yet, when he 
 won't do anything for his keep, what is the use of him ? So they just 
 let him go, hoping to get something back from Coper and Hazey. 
 
THE DISASTER. 305 
 
 Coper, < f course, could not be found ; and though Hazey liked 
 Countesses, he loved money more, and could not bear to part with his 
 beloved gains. It was hard to lose the profit of his labour, especially 
 when he believed the objection to the horse was founded partly on 
 caprice, and partly on incompetence. The boy Bill assured him that 
 nothing could go better than the horse did the morning he tried him 
 at Tarring Neville ; and certainly Mrs. Somerville rode him with the 
 greatest ease and composure. If the Countess had given more for him 
 than she liked, that was no reason for dissolving the bargain. Many 
 people expected more than they got, and those who knew the least 
 about horses always expected the most. Hazey had had many such, 
 but none of them had ever got a halfpenny out of him. He didn't sell 
 hands, only horses. 
 
 The horse, we need scarcely say, was soon back into Beldon Hall, 
 undergoing the treatment and discipline nocessary for keeping him in 
 something like subjection; and when Mr. Hazey heard that Mrs. 
 Somerville was riding him as usual, he gained confidence in his cause, 
 and asserted boldly that the horse was as quiet as a lamb, and had 
 doubtless been ridden injudiciously, or spoiled by mismanagement. 
 
 The Countess felt piqued at this announcement, conceiving that it 
 conveyed an imputation on her horsemanship ; for though she was not 
 in reality a good rider, yet she thought she was, and perhaps was 
 more sensitive on the point than if she had really been one. The 
 Earl, too, backed her opinion, seeing that she sat well on her horse 
 and looked the equestrian; and the party generally favoured the 
 view that the horse was vicious. Hazey, however, held out the other 
 way ; and for once believing his own story, stated that the fact was 
 capable of proof, for the horse might be seen with the Larkspur 
 Hounds almost every day in the week; Mr. Hazey, perhaps, not 
 thinking that any one would be at the trouble of making the long 
 journey for the purpose of seeing. Here, however, he was mistaken, 
 for railways have annihilated distance ; and having got a locality to 
 work upon, the Countess talked and fretted, and fretted and talked, 
 till she worked herself up into a resolution to go and see. If anybody 
 would go with her, she would really go and see. She would like un- 
 commonly to go and see. She thought it would be very good fun to 
 go and see. And a lady in that mood not being likely to remain un- 
 escorted, especially when she paid the expenses first, Major Elite, and 
 then Mrs. Mountravers — both staying guests — volunteered their ser- 
 vices to accompany her into Doubleimupshire. And as none of them 
 had ever been there before, or had the slightest idea how to get to 
 it, the expedition furnished abundant food for conversation ; first to find 
 
366 mr. facey romford's hounds. 
 
 out what part of Doubleimupshire Mr. Romford hunted; secondly, 
 how it was to be got at, and, thirdly, where the meets of the hounds 
 were. 
 
 To this end maps, and books, and "Bell's Lifes," and "Brad- 
 shaws" were consulted, and calculations made for train meeting, and 
 crossing, and catching. Then came the sorting and packing and 
 arranging for the journey, tbe Countess taking as much luggage as in 
 former times would have served a traveller to India, all, of course, 
 directed — so that they who run might read — " To the Bight Honour- 
 able the Countess of Caperington." Then there was such a to-do 
 about her Ladyship's man, and her Ladyship's maid, and her Lady- 
 ship's this, and her Ladyship's that. 
 
 At length they got started as well from the castle as from the neigh- 
 bouring station of Lilleyfield, and, after numerous halts, and stops, 
 and changes, with the usual variations of speed peculiar to different 
 trains and systems of railway, they found themselves, towards sunset, 
 contemplating the tall spire of Dhiingford Church from a dumpy little 
 station about a mile from the town. Bailways which make some 
 places ruin others, and Dirlingford had suffered the latter fate. The 
 railway seemed to have sucked all the life out of it — taken it all 
 up to Pickering Nook. So few passengers stopped there that the 
 solitary omnibus did not meet every train, and now that the 
 driver had got a haul in the graceful person of the Countess and 
 her attendants, he seemed appalled at the quantity of luggage. 
 Didn't know how he should ever get it up. Independent Jimmy 
 would have had it on during the time this one was looking at it. At 
 last, with the aid of the porter, he got it accomplished, and the party 
 being now seated — " Where to ?" was the question. "Head Inn ! " 
 was the answer. 
 
 "That'll .be the 'Lord 'ill,' then," said he, and, hurrying round to 
 his horses he mounted his box and drove down to the town., 
 
CHAPTER LXVIII. 
 
 THE " LORD HILL" HOTEL AND POSTING-HOUSE. 
 
 The " Lord Hill" hotel and posting house, at Dirlingford, was a 
 good sample of the old-fashioned way-side inn, now fast disappearing 
 before the march of modern civilisation. It was a great gaunt four- 
 storeyed small- windowed red brick house, standing right in the middle 
 of the High Street, its front-door reached by an iron-railed flight of 
 steep stone steps. On the right of the door was a caged bell that had 
 announced the coming of many a carriage ; on the left the name of 
 the landlord, John Scorer, with the words " neat wines, neat post- 
 chaises" below. Above the door was the sign of the house, the 
 " Lord Hill," a faded warrior in full uniform, powdered and pig-tailed 
 according to the prevailing fashion of the day. 
 
 At one time it kept twelve pair of post-horses, besides a few that 
 worked on the farm, and seven long coaches changed horses at it twice 
 a day. Great were the gains from the unfortunate victims whom neces- 
 sity compelled to take the road in those days. They were treated much 
 like cattle at a market, pushed and squeezed and fed anyhow. It 
 was for the great magnates of the read that the landlord's attention 
 and civility were reserved. Then, when the bow-legged " next boy 
 out" descried the coming carriage, he gave the caged door-bell such a 
 ringing as caused a similar commotion in the house to that which 
 attended the coming of the Countess of Caperington to Mrs. Slyboots' 
 the milliner's, at "Worryworth. The "Lord Hill" was convulsed. 
 
 And the mention of her Ladyship reminds us that we have got her 
 and her party in the Dirlingford omnibus, from which we had better 
 extract them as soon as we can. One disadvantage of the now uni- 
 versal use of public conveyances undoubtedly is, that consequence does 
 not get properly attended to. "When that the maid dresses so much 
 finer than the mistress, it is difficult at first sight to distinguish between 
 them — to say which is which. The Countess, however, was not one 
 of that sort, and always dressed as became her exalted station, and the 
 'bus had scarcely stopped at the " Lord Hill" hotel and posting house 
 door ere it was bruited throughout that a great lady had come. Then 
 down went Scorer's pipe on the inner bar table. Mrs. Scorer adjusted 
 
368 mr. facey romford's hounds. 
 
 her antiquated frilled cap in the looking-glass, the old bed-gowned 
 chambermaid, Rebecca, slid downstairs, holding on by the banisters, 
 and Timothy, the bald-headed, short-breeched antediluvian waiter, 
 with something between a napkin and a duster in his hand, waddled 
 out of the commercial room to join the commotion in the passage. 
 Great was the bobbing and bowing and curtseying and your Ladyship- 
 ping, great the gesticulation to induce them to get forward out of the 
 way of the now-coming boxes, and ascend the narrow staircase to 
 the gloomy regions above. Of course there wasn't a fire in any of 
 the rooms, "but they would light one directly," Scorer said. And to 
 this end Rebecca began to strike a light with a flint and steel in the 
 " Trafalgar," declaring she could get one sooner that way than with a 
 lucifer-match. 
 
 The "Lord Hill " was a close, frowsy old house, from which every 
 breath of air seemed to be excluded by heavily-dressed curtains before 
 the never-opened windows. The sitting-rooms were large and low, 
 their lowness being further aggravated by most oppressively heavy 
 mouldings on the ceilings. It was enough to give one the nightmare 
 to think of such ceilings. As to those grand old temples of suffocation, 
 the large four-post beds in the small rooms, the large boot-jack, the 
 diminutive towel, and insoluble soap, they are yet to be found in most 
 countries, and need not be described. We also pass by as well the 
 order for, as the incidents of, the mutton-chop dinner — the offer of 
 everything, with the reduction to nothing ; the battered copper- 
 betraying side-dishes, the green hock, and dull needle-case-shaped 
 champagne -glasses, with the strong loathsome cheese that followed 
 the dry unpalatable tart. Let us suppose the evening spent; the 
 long wax lights replaced by short ones, and our tired travellers off to 
 bed, to sleep, to dream, or perchance be bit by bugs. 
 
 Those who have watched the progress of public conveyances, seen 
 how the fastidiousness of former times has gradually disappeared 
 before the lights of common-sense and utility, can have little doubt 
 that another great change is coming over the nation in the matter of 
 domestic economy. The universality of travel ; the extreme difficulty 
 of getting servants at home — the hopelessness of managing them when 
 got; all tend to show that clubs, which answered so well for gentlemen, 
 are about to be extended to families, in the shape of the magnificent 
 hotels now rising up all around, where, if people do pay for accom- 
 modation, they at all events get an equivalent for their money. 
 
CHAPTER LXIX. 
 
 SriTE OF ALL AND STAND AGALN'ST ALL. 
 
 Ma. Facet Romfoed, like most good sportsmen, eschewed show 
 meets : he also avoided making them at inns or public houses. He 
 had no fancy for being waylaid by skirmishers on the look-out in the 
 highways and byways, to bring in all ihey could catch to be stuffed 
 with a second breakfast before he had half digested the first. Still less 
 to have his hounds pressed upon or ridden over by pot-valiant horse- 
 men fresh from the joys of the tap or the table. Hence some of his 
 meets were rather ambiguous, especially to strangers, of which, how- 
 ever, there were few came into the country. A bridge, a milestone, 
 or guide-post were all favourite places of his ; but among the anony- 
 mous ones was a place called Spite of All, whose locality was diffi- 
 cult to fix. The name was not very promising, suggestive more of the 
 tenacity of the squatter than the politeness of the country. And 
 Spite of All was one of those troublesome encroachments against 
 which the Lord Lonnergans of former times used to be content to issue 
 their edicts without seeing them enforced. Spite of All had there- 
 fore become a freehold, and had to be respected, notwithstanding it 
 stood on the domains of a Duke. But it so happened that Spite of 
 All was not the only place of this description in Doubleimupshire. 
 On the north-east side was its duplicate, called Stand against All, 
 and people in the hurry of the moment were very apt to mistake one 
 for the other. There was an obstinate resistance recorded against 
 each, with a triumphal retention by both the parties in possession. 
 
 Well, the meets of Mr. Romford's hounds for the week were,, 
 Monday, Raw Marsh ; Wednesday, Thorncross Hill ; Friday, Spite 
 of All ; Saturday, the tenth milestone on the Larkspur Road. Friday 
 is generally considered an unlucky day; at all events a day that people do 
 not generally choose for their pleasure expeditions ; and it was unlucky 
 on this occasion; for if the meet had been transposed, Friday the 
 tenth milestone, and Saturday Spite of All, Mrs. Somerville would 
 have been at Spite of All, and not at the road meet, while, in con- 
 sequence of the confusion of manner and ideas, the Countess would 
 have been at the road meet, and not at Spite of All, so they would 
 
 B B 
 
370 ME. FACEY ROMFOED'S HOUND'S. 
 
 never have met, for Mr. Hazey picked up another customer for the 
 Leotard horse before the Monday. 
 
 But we anticipate. 
 
 One might as well ask a hairdresser or a haberdasher about the 
 meets of the hounds as the waiter at an inn, but attached to the " Lord 
 Hill" hotel was an antediluvian postboy — one Benjamin Bucktrout, 
 the last of the twelve who had driven from that door — whose geo- 
 graphical knowledge was said to be great. Bucktrout was an illustra- 
 tion of the truth of the old saying, that nobody ever saw a dead post- 
 boy, for if he had been anything else he would have been dead long 
 since. As it was there was little left of him but his chin and his 
 hands, save what people might conjecture was in his jacket and boots. 
 And the Countess of Caperington, who was accustomed to have every- 
 thing arranged for her, told her maid Priscilla, when she herself retired 
 to her great tabernacle of a bed, to find out how long it would take to 
 go to Spite of All, and to call her accordingly. Then Bucktrout 
 being appealed to, declared he knew the place quite well, and that it 
 would take him an hour and twenty minutes to go there, part of the 
 road being, he said, in a very indictable state of repair. And so he 
 was ordered to time himself to be there at 10 - 30 to a minute, the 
 Countess never allowing anyone to be unpunctual but herself. 
 
 Accordingly next morning, Bucktrout, having made himself as great 
 a swell as he could, — scrumpy red jacket, with blue glass buttons and 
 tarnished silver lace at the black cotton velvet collar and cuffs ; ques- 
 tionable breeches, with seedy boots, turned round a very passable 
 queen' s-coloured barouche with a gorgeous crown on the panel, drawn 
 by a pair of high-boned, hard-featured white horses, the usual accom- 
 paniments of wedding festivities. Then the footman and Priscilla the 
 maid, and the landlord and the landlady, having made as much fuss 
 and preparation as they could, what with cloaks and cushions and furs 
 and footwarmers, stood waiting the descent with a graduated sliding 
 scale of spectators tapering away from the doorsteps down to the 
 kennel. And, after a sufficient pause old Timothy announced that the 
 " Countess was coming !" the " Countess was coming !" Then all was 
 eves right and attention : Bucktrout, subsiding in his saddle, contem- 
 plated his horses' ears, while John Thomas stood bolt upright, holding 
 the carriage door in his right hand. Priscilla occupied the other side 
 of the steps to assist the crinolines in their ascent into the carriage, 
 while the rest of the party ranged themselves in a semi-circular 
 tableau, after the manner of actors when the curtain is going to fall. 
 The great people get in, the voluminous clothes are arranged, and the 
 door closed quickly to prevent an egression. 
 
SPITE OF ALL AND STAND AGAINST ALL. 371 
 
 " Right !" cries the gold-lace-hatted footman, as he jumps into the 
 rumble, and away they bowled up the grass-grown High Street of Dir- 
 lingford, drawing many fair faces to the windows, and eliciting many 
 ejaculations of " Who can those be P" " Who can those be ?" " Bless 
 us, what swells! " 
 
 Bucktrout did his best to keep the old nags up to their collars as 
 they pottered over the uneven cobble-stones of the street, not knowing 
 how a judicious display might tend to take the wind out of the sails 
 of the opposition spicey greys at the "Golden Fleece" inn; but as 
 they got upon the level surface of the Silverdale Road the old gentle- 
 man gradually relaxed in his exertions until a very gentle rise in his 
 saddle alone denoted that the horses were not walking — indeed, at one 
 time, they looked as if they were all going to sleep together. 
 
 Bucktrout was a ruminating old boy, and between cogitations as to 
 whether he should drag down High Higson Hill, or risk it, where he 
 was likely to get his dinner, and what the Countess would be likely 
 to give him over his mileage for driving, he directed his attention to 
 the question of getting to his destination. " Stand agin All," mut- 
 tered he — " Stand agin All ; that'll be by Fitz warren, and round the 
 old tower to Happyfield Green and Ringland." 
 
 " Stand agin All — Stand agin All. Sure it was Stand agin All that 
 they said," continued he, rubbing his nose on the back of his old 
 parchment-like glove as a sudden thought came across his mind, 
 whether it was Stand agin All, or Spite of All that they said. " Sure 
 it was Stand agin All, they said," repeated he, giving the led horse a 
 refresher with his knotty whip, as if to get him to coincide in that 
 view. Still Buckey had his doubts about it, and as he jipped and jogged 
 he began, like a prudent general, to think how he should manage 
 matters in case he was wrong. " Spite of All and Stand agin All were 
 very much alike," he said; "one as bad as the other a'most; couldn't 
 make much difference which they went to. Most likely it was one 
 of those things they call pic-nicks, where folks make themselves as 
 uncomfortable as they can, and call it pleasure. Sure, for his part, 
 he would like to sit at a table with a clean cloth before him, and 
 a knife and fork to eat with, instead of his fingers." Then he gave 
 his own horse a dig with his spur, by way of preserving the balance 
 of pace. 
 
 Meanwhile the Countess and party, having timed themselves as well 
 as they could by their watches, began looking about for the usual indi- 
 cations of the chase — foot-people in a hurry, grooms with their masters' 
 horses, sedate gentlemen jogging on with their own. The Countess 
 expected to see the naughty Leotard pop up at every point. But no ; 
 
 BB 2 
 
372 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 neither pedestrian, nor equestrian, not even the man with the colt in 
 the breaking-reins appears. Major Elite suggested that perhaps 
 Mr. Romford's half-past ten meant eleven. Many masters of hounds, 
 he said, were very unpunctual. 
 
 The road, which for some time had been twisty and turny, to say 
 nothing of what the Countess called "cogglecy," presently became 
 worse, being formed of nothing but soft field stones ground down t ) 
 excellent housemaid's sand, and after a slow tug through its laborious 
 depths, the old screws came to a standstill just opposite where 
 another road branched off at right angles, and the veteran Bucktrout, 
 turning half round in his saddle and pointing to a wretched mud 
 cottage with a thatched roof built into a bank, announced with a 
 grin and a touch of his greasy old hat, "Please 'urn this be Stand 
 agin All." 
 
 " Stand against All !" exclaimed the Countess. "That's not the 
 name of the place we want to be at ! Spite of All, not Stand against 
 All!" 
 
 ""Well, mum, it's all the same, mum," replied Bucktrout, now 
 satisfied of his error, but determined to brazen it out. " Some folks 
 call it Spite of All, you see, my leddy, and others call it Stand agin 
 All, you see, my leddy. It's the place you mean, the place they had 
 the great 'size trial on aboot, before Lord Chief Justice Best and a 
 special jury, which doubtless you've heard tell on." Bucktrout think- 
 ing it immaterial whether the Countess saw the cause of one assize 
 trial or another. Both places had been in Court. 
 
 But here we may observe that Spite of All would have felt rather 
 humiliated by the comparison, for while Stand against All let its smoke 
 out of the four-square-paned window or the ricketty door, Spite of All 
 had a fine fire-brick chimney rising boldly out of a substantial grey 
 roof; two fairish windows, and a door that a moderate-sized man could 
 get under without stooping. Moreover, Spite of All was in a good 
 country with fine wild foxes, and Facey Romford knew where to 
 find them. 
 
 Be that as it may, however, here were our friends at Stand against 
 All, and though Bucktrout' s assertion had an air of plausibility about 
 it, yet there were no hounds to back the decision. 
 
 ""Well, it's very odd," said the Countess, looking about with 
 concern. 
 
 " Must have mistaken the day," observed Major Elite. 
 
 "No," rejoined her Ladyship firmly; "I'm certain I'm right. 
 Friday, Spite of All ; Saturday, the tenth milestone on the Larkspur 
 Road." 
 
SPITE OP ALL AND STAND AGAINST ALL. 378 
 
 "Or the hour," suggested Mrs. Mountravers, looking at her watch, 
 which however afforded little assistance, for it was standing at half- 
 past two. 
 
 Bucktrout now stood up in his stirrups, contemplating the country 
 like a whipper-in waiting to view a fox away. Nothing to be seen. 
 Stand against All seemed to have it all to itself. 
 
 " Knock and ask," now Baid the Countess, addressing herself to the 
 footman as though she were at the door of a Belgravian mansion. 
 
 " Please, my lady, who shall I inquire for?" demanded he, touch- 
 ing his fine cockaded hat, as, having descended from his perch, he now 
 Etood at the carriage door. 
 
 " Ask if the hounds are coming here to-day," replied her ladyship. 
 
 " Yes, my lady," said the footman, trotting off, taking care of his 
 shoes as he made for the ricketty, weather-beaten door of the miserable 
 hut. 
 
 Bat, tat, tat, tat, tat he went at the frail wooden fabric, as though 
 he were going to demolish it. 
 
 "Who's there?" roared a stentorian voice, that a westerly wind 
 wafted in full force to the carriage. 
 
 " Please, do the hounds meet here to-day?" asked the footman in his 
 mild company accents. 
 
 " No, you ass ! " roared the poacher, for it was none other than Giles 
 Snarem, the notorious leader of the night gang, whose second sleep he 
 had thus disturbed. 
 
 "Come away!" cried the Countess — "come away!" satisfied there 
 was a mistake somewhere. 
 
 The order was satisfactory to old Bucktrout, who feared if the inquiry 
 was prosecuted any further it would transpire that the hounds were at 
 Spite of All, whereas he had driven the party to Stand against All, 
 though he was certain about the action being tried before Lord Chief 
 Justice Best, because one of the high sheriff's javelin men lodged at 
 his house, and told him all about it — indeed, he believed the javelin 
 man had been of great assistance to the judge in trying the case. At 
 the word " home," from the footman, he therefore caught his old 
 screws short by the head, and turning the carriage round, what with 
 flagellating one horse and spurring the other, he managed to make 
 them plough through the heavy sand at a much better pace than they 
 came. A respectful distance being thus established between Stand 
 against All and our travellers, he presently relaxed into his old jog- 
 trot pace, and having stopped to refresh himself and horses at the 
 " Barleymow " way-side inn, he trotted into town with as much dash 
 and vigour as he could raise. Those terrible greys at the " Fleece," 
 
374 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 were always haunting his vision, urging him and his horses beyond 
 the decaying powers of either. 
 
 Arrived at the "Lord Hill" hotel and posting house, the first 
 thing he did after setting down was to run and look at " Bell's Life " 
 in the bar, and finding Mr. Romford's hounds advertised for Spite of 
 All, he told the landlord he had better book the journey to Spite of 
 All, and then there would be no mistake in the matter. 
 
 "All right," said he; "all right," scrambling out crab fashion. 
 " Spite of All, and Stand agin All 'ill be all the same thing — same 
 thing — place they had the 'size trial on about afore Lord Chief Justice 
 Best and a special jury." 
 
 So that day's journey went for nothing. 
 
CHAPTER LXX. 
 
 THE TENTH MILESTONE ON THE LARKSPUR ROAD. 
 
 Foiled in her first effort to get a sight of the redoubtable Leotard, 
 the Countess of Caperington returned -with vigour to the charge, 
 sending, immediately on her return from Stand against All, into the 
 commercial room of the "Lord Hill" hotel and posting-house for the 
 old well-thumbed map of the county, and searching with avidity for 
 the next meet of the hounds. Fortunately for Bucktrout, neither Spite 
 of All nor Stand against All had obtained their present notoriety when 
 the map was published, consequently they were not on it to contradict 
 his assertion that they were one and the same place ; and her ladyship 
 having placed her pretty forefinger on the extensive stain denoting 
 her then locality at Dirlingford, she proceeded to make a very scientific 
 cast to the east in search of the diminutive town of Larkspur, formerly 
 the residence of the Doubleimupshire hounds. 
 
 "Here it is!" at length cried she, looking up, "here it is! right 
 to the north-east of this place," and getting a cedar- wood match out 
 of the lighter stand, she proceeded to measure the scale in the corner 
 of the map, and then the distance from the before-mentioned greasy 
 mark on the side. 
 
 "Oh, quite within distance," said she, " quite within distance ; not 
 above twelve miles from here at most, by Burbury and Cracknel." 
 
 So saying, her ladyship dismissed the map, and ordered the dinner 
 for that day, and the carriage for the next, with one and the same 
 breath. And now leaving the reader to imagine a repetition of the 
 former evening's performance, we will pass on to the following morning, 
 and suppose the Countess and party again taking the field in the 
 "Lord Hill" carriage in all the glories of consequence and dress. 
 
 Bucktrout had increased his magnificence by adding a pair of 
 tarnished red and white rosettes to his antediluvian horses' heads, and 
 sat cockily in his brass cantreled saddle, thinking how he was taking 
 the shine out of Peter of the " Golden Fleece," and his greys. Then 
 after the fuss and preparation, gaping and staring and starring of the 
 former occasion, the Countess and her friends came down-stairs, and 
 with due importance got themselves seated and adjusted in the carriage. 
 
376 MB. FACET ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 "Eight! " again was the cry, and the low part of the High Street 
 was this time enlivened with the sound of carriage wheels. If people 
 in London ran to the window to look at every vehicle that passed, 
 what a time they would have of it. 
 
 Bucktrout rode with much more confidence than he did in going to 
 Spite of All, for he knew his way, and moreover was certain that he 
 was going right. So he rose cockily in his saddle, now admiring his 
 left-leg boot, now looking into the flowing rosettes at his horses' heads, 
 now whipping and spurring the old nags into activity. If he wasn't 
 cutting a dash he didn't know who was. Jip, jip, jip, he went as if 
 they were a pair of five-year-old's instead of being nearer five-and- 
 twenty. The road was good — turnpike all the way : none of the 
 sandstone quagmires, with great boulder stones turning up like flitches 
 of bacon every few yards, that impeded their progress the day before. 
 
 They had not gone many miles ere the first indication of the chase 
 appeared. This was a tight- buttoned blue-coated groom riding a well- 
 conditioned brown horse, between whose sleek coat and the rider's 
 tops there seemed to be a species of honourable rivalry as to which 
 should be the darkest. The horse had it perhaps, but only by a shade 
 or two. Formerly grooms couldn't get their boots white enough: now 
 they can't get them dark enough. Such is the mutation of fashion. 
 
 "AH right to-day," said the Countess, eyeing the unmistakeable 
 symptom. Bucktrout then passed him at a half cantering trot. 
 
 The plot presently thickened. At the Burbury side bar two grooms 
 were paying their own and their hack-riding masters' tolls, and a little 
 further on a knot of miscellaneous horsemen were regaling themselves 
 at the door of the " Good Intent" inn with early purl and other deli- 
 cacies. Some people can drink at any time. Bucktrout spurts past 
 them as if he despised such performances. The country was evidently 
 getting alive. 
 
 Ah! there's a red coat! Only a seedy one, to be sure, as the first red 
 coat on the road generally is, but still a red coat, thus openly pro- 
 claiming the nature of the coming entertainment. It is little Tommy 
 Squirt, the Union Doctor, who is deceiving himself, as Independent 
 Jimmy would say, that he is passing for a great man, though in reality 
 he is only offering himself for a figure of fun. A badly turned-out 
 man in red is always a deplorable object; doubly so when the horse 
 and the coat are equally bad, and all the appointments show that thy 
 colour is expected to do everything. On he jogs his badly-clipped 
 mouse-colour very gingerly, having both corns and a curb to take 
 care of. And now the brute trips in a grip just as the carriage is 
 passing, causing an outburst of laughter from the party. 
 
THE TENTH MILESTONE ON THE LARKSPUR ROAD. JJ77 
 
 Then the turn of the road reveals another red coat — a red coat on a 
 grey — a rat-tailed grey this time. It is our old friend the Chairman 
 of the Half-Guinea Hat Company, who has become very assiduous in 
 his attendance on the Larkspur hounds of late. He has got himself 
 up with extra care, with his all-round-thechin beard combed carefully 
 over his blue tie, like samples of yellow and white worsted on a stall. 
 
 "What an ugly man ! " exclaimed the Countess in passing, quite 
 loud enough for Bonus to hear. 
 
 " Isn't he ! " assented Mrs. Mountravers in the same tone. 
 
 "Wonder he doesn't dye his beard all the same colour," observed 
 Major Elite, whose turn it now was to stare. 
 
 But we are now ascending the slightly rising ground of Cracknel 
 Green — a rise so gentle that it was not until the establishment of rail- 
 ways that it was found out not to be level. Bucktrout's horses, how- 
 ever, who have wonderfully fine shoulders for detecting the collar, 
 feel it at once, and gradually relax into a walk- Half way up stands 
 the ninth milestone, calm and serene as milestones always are, but 
 causing the ladies to start and adjust their bonnets, and Major Elite 
 to button his gloves and feel his collar. They are presently overtaken 
 by a large party of horsemen, some in black, some in red, some in 
 green, who stare and wonder who old Bucktrout has aboard to-day. 
 Though they all admire the Countess, they think the Major might be 
 very happy with either. 
 
 And now the indubitable level being obtained, Bucktrout has no 
 excuse for further nursing, and at the word "trot!" from the 
 Countess he gathers the old horses together, and with the aid of the 
 spur, the whip, and the voice, is presently at the 
 
 " Delightful scene ! 
 "Where all around is gay, men, horses, dogs ; 
 And in each smiling countenance appears 
 Fresh blooming health and universal joy." 
 
 Our foxy-faced Master has just turned into a large pasture on the 
 right of the road, the hounds looking blooming and well. Daniel — 
 the Bight Honourable the Hurl of Scamperdale's Daniel — sober and 
 solemn; and little Chowey, the man with the philanthropic mouth, 
 contracting and dilating his proboscis as though he were considering 
 whom he should kiss. Romford rides the redoubtable Placid Joe, Swig 
 the water-objecting Brick, and Chowey the wriggling Oliver Twist. 
 They now take up a position well into the field, and give the hounds 
 ample space to roll and be criticised. 
 
 Then there is the field, large, parti-coloured and gay, as fields 
 generally are when the meets of the hounds are by a turnpike side, 
 
378 mr. facey romford's hounds. 
 
 and carriages and horsemen can commingle. There are two or three 
 gigs, and two or three phaetons, some containing gentlemen, who on 
 peeling will prove horsemen, while others will follow in their vehicles 
 as far as they can, and then go away. 
 
 "Turn in here!" cried the Countess; "turn in here!" as the 
 hesitating Bucktrout pulled up at the field-gate, and looked round 
 with a grin. 
 
 " Yes, my lady," said he, now gathering all his energies to steer 
 through the gate without a collision against either post. He just 
 managed to do it. 
 
 "Who have we here?" said Romford to Mr. Joseph Large, who 
 still patronised the pack at great personal inconvenience. 
 
 " Don't know," replied Large; adding, " it's the 'Lord Hill' chaise." 
 
 " So I see," said Romford, who had long booked the old horses for 
 the boiler. 
 
 Then, as the carriage approached and drew up before the pack, 
 Facey, seeing the ladies were pretty, raised his hat, an example that 
 was immediately followed by Chowey and Swig with their caps. 
 Chowey half thought the Countess was an old acquaintance, but for 
 once he couldn't hit it off. 
 
 Then, as the hats and caps subsided, there was fresh inquiry as to 
 who the strangers were, and a sending of Todd on the sly to ask 
 Tomkins, and a similar expedition by Large to Ten-and-a-half -per- 
 cent., who now came up on the rat-tailed grey. None of them, of 
 course, could tell. But here comes some one who can, viz., our fair 
 friend, Mrs. Somerville, who, entering the field by a gap at the 
 opposite corner, confronts the carriage as she advances mounted on the 
 wondrous Leotard. 
 
 Lucy wondered who the strangers were — then she thought she had 
 seen that face before — very like Lady Scattercash's — couldn't be Lady 
 Scattercash — yes it was Lady Scattercash. 
 
 " How do you do, Lady Scattercash ? " said she, riding up to the 
 carriage-door and tendering her hand as she spoke. But the Countess, 
 who had had the advantage of a quiet carriage-seat for the survey, 
 had realised Lucy before Lucy did her, and her displeasure at seeing 
 the horse going so quietly was not at all diminished by the familiarity 
 of that person calling her Lady Scattercash, when she was in fact the 
 Countess of Caperington. So she neglected the proffered hand and 
 preserved a stolid scornful stare. 
 
 " I think you don't know me," said Lucy, timidly, withdrawing 
 her hand as she spoke. 
 
 "Yes, I do," replied the Countess, haughtily. " You are Mrs 
 
THE TENTH MILESTONE ON THE LARKSPUR ROAD. 379 
 
 Sponge — Lucy Glitters that was — most pernicious woman ! " added 
 she, with an upward curl of her lip. 
 
 If the Countess had stabbed her to the heart she could not have 
 inflicted a more deadly wound, for there were horsemen all around, 
 every one of whom, Lucy felt sure, would hear what was said. The 
 words perfectly rang in her ears — "You are Mrs. Sponge — Lucy 
 Glitters that was — most pernicious woman ! " She was indeed Mrs. 
 Sponge — Lucy Glitters that was ; but she felt that it was not for an 
 old comrade like Lady Scattercash to upbraid her. She would not 
 have done so by the Countess. And, turning her horse short round, 
 poor Lucy burst into a flood of tears. 
 
 Notwithstanding the unwonted sight of a lady in tears in the 
 hunting-field, we believe if it had not been for that long-eared Chair- 
 man of the Half-Guinea-Hat Company, Lucy's misfortune might have 
 escaped observation. He, however, being down-wind, with his ears 
 well cocked as usual for a catch, heard the ominous "You are Mrs. 
 Sponge!" coupled with the denunciation " most pernicious ivoman /" 
 and immediately put that and that together for a story. Not that he 
 went bellowing about the country exclaiming, " I say, this is not Mrs. 
 Somerville, but Mrs. Sponge, the wife of our friend Soapey Sponge," 
 but he inuendoed it, which was just the same thing. The story 
 flew like lightning, and in a very few days was all over Dubleimup- 
 shire. But a great deal may be done in a few days, and ere the bubble 
 finally burst a great deal was done in this case. But the denouement 
 of all this spirited conduct deserves a separate chapter. 
 
CHAPTER LXXI. 
 
 THE FINISH. 
 
 It was an eventful morning to other parties besides our friend Mrs. 
 Somerville. "When she got back to Beldon Hall she found the fair 
 auburn-haired lady had played young Joseph Large off so successfully 
 against Mr. Lovetin Lonnergan as to make the latter consent to a 
 clandestine marriage, of course to be kept profoundly secret until it 
 pleased father to die. And Mrs. Somerville, feeling the pressure of 
 circumstances and the precarious nature of her own position, at once 
 set about furthering the arrangement, not by ordering those voluminous 
 mountains of clothes and dresses that generally mark the coming 
 change, but by quietly procuring a marriage licence and an obliging 
 clergyman to use it. 
 
 Then, to make surety doubly sure, and completely baffle old Lon- 
 nergan should any reports get into circulation, Mrs. Somerville suggested 
 that Miss Howard should be married in a feigned name, and hit upon 
 that of Shannon. " Elizabeth Shannon, say," as if quite accidentally; 
 and Lovetin thought the idea rather a pull in his favour if any- 
 thing, being greatly goaded by the persecuting importunities of that 
 disgusting Joseph Large, who, he felt sure, would marry her at an)* 
 price. 
 
 The Eegistrar, holding the document firmly in one hand while 
 he presented the palm of the other, said in an unbroken breath, 
 " Two pound twelve and sixpence, and I hope it will make you 
 both very happy," his happiness evidently consisting in getting 
 the two pound twelve and sixpence. And Lovetin paid the money 
 (which " Old Rent-should-never-rise" wouldn't have done) without 
 asking for discount. Lord Lonnergan would certainly have had the 
 sixpence, if not the two and sixpence off. 
 
 It would not interest the reader to follow the worthies through the 
 consequences of their mutual disappointments ; suffice it to say, that 
 there was presently an uproar, though not of Mrs. Lubbins's older, 
 both at Dalberry Lees and Beldon Hall. 
 
THE FINISH. 381 
 
 Our sprightly friend Betsey Shannon had the hest of it, for here was 
 real wealth and an easily-managed husband. 
 
 Of course the match was not kept secret — as what match ever is ? — 
 but its announcement was not attended by any unpleasant consequences. 
 The fact was, that though father was not obliging enough to die, yet 
 his faculties failed just at the very time, the first indication of which 
 was the conviction that Betsey Shannon, now Mrs. Iovetin Lonnergan, 
 was a great City heiress ; and Mrs. Lonnergan, always trusting her great 
 man implicitly, received her daughter-in-law at Flush House with the 
 greatest cordiality. There Mrs. Lovetin was most comfortably located, 
 everything going on most harmoniously, thus contradicting the asser- 
 tion that there never yet was a house built large enough to hold 
 two families. 
 
 The old Lord used to sit in his easy-chair contemplating Betsey's 
 beautiful figure and complexion, muttering aloud, " Ah, lucky dog, 
 Lovetin, lucky dog ; always told you to stick up for the money. 
 Beauty and breeding are nothing compared to blunt." Then he would 
 burst out with the old favourite aphorism, " When has a man got 
 enough money, Lovetin ? "When he has got a little more than what 
 he has. Ah, lucky dog, lucky dog ! Be as rich as Rothschild — rich 
 as Rothschild, my boy." 
 
 But we are occupying ourselves with a minor hero to the neglect of 
 our great Master. Mr. Romford. 
 
 "When matters burst up at Beldon Hall, Cassandra was indignant 
 exceedingly, and we need not say that there was terrible disappoint- 
 ment at Dalberry Lees, crimination and recrimination. 
 
 " If he didn't say himself he was the owner of Abbeyfield Park, 
 everybody did for him, and he never contradicted it. Turbot-sitting- 
 upon-its-tail on a cap of dignity, forsooth ! What business had he to 
 seal his letters with a turbot-sitting-upon-its-tail on a cap of dignity ? 
 Downright imposition. Gaining credit under false pretences. Ought 
 to be transported." So said Mrs. Hazey. 
 
 But Facey, as the reader has seen, was a man of energy and deter- 
 mination. He was yet young, vigorous, and ungrizzled — not at all 
 trammelled with nice feelings or delicacy — and having got in the bulk 
 of his season's subscription for the hounds, he sold the balance to our 
 friend Ten-and-a-half-per-Cent. for fifteen shillings in the pound, and 
 without indulging in any further blandishment about founding the 
 hospital for decayed sportsmen, pocketed the money, and got his hounds 
 and horses away a few hours before poor Lord Lovetin' s bailiff threatened 
 to seize for the quarter's rent. Indeed, his Lordship had his misgivings 
 
382 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 almost as soon as he let his place, particularly with regard to not 
 restricting Mr. Eomford from the use of the cut pile carpet that Mrs. 
 Emmerson and he differed about. 
 
 " Fox -hunters," his Lordship said, "might scrape their feet and 
 wipe the thick of the mud off their boots at the door, but there was 
 a deal that stuck to the upper parts of the legs that he knew dropped 
 off here and there as it liked at its leisure." All this would tread 
 into the carpet and furniture generally, and he questioned that Mrs. 
 Mustard would look very deep for hidden dirt. 
 
 Nor were his anxieties diminished by the non-receipt of the quarter's 
 rent when due for Beldon Hall, which, having been let by himself, he 
 expected the pleasure of manipulating without the mulcting process 
 as it passed through Mr. Lonnergan's hands. Indeed he had promised 
 himself the pleasure of buying a new black Lyons silk waistcoat with 
 the per centage so saved, an article of raiment that he was greatly in 
 want of. In fact, he had marked two or three down in the Palais 
 Koyal that he thought he could compass ; but then, like a prudent 
 viscount, he did not like spending the money before he got it. Now 
 he wished he might not be thrown naked and houseless on the world 
 when he had long been looking forward to comparative ease and com- 
 fort in his old age. 
 
 But his anxieties were not thoroughly aroused until meeting little 
 Jack Lounger in the Eue de la Paix, reading a letter from England, with 
 an account of the splendours of the Beldon Hall ball, which not being 
 insured, it instantly occurred to his Lordship that Romford would 
 infallibly be burning the place down. " Burn it down to a certainty ! " 
 exclaimed he, thinking he saw it all in a blaze, the flames bursting 
 out simultaneously from every window, just as they did at Camden 
 House — "Burn it down to a certainty ! Statuary, marble, Sevres 
 china, clocks, cabinets, Apollo, Daphne, and all. That sort of work 
 wouldn't do ; he would be reduced to beggary in no time. Great as 
 would be the expense, and ill as he could afford it, he really thought 
 he must go over to England and see how matters stood." He mis- 
 trusted Lonnergan, who he thought would be sure to side with the 
 tenant. And accordingly, after due consideration, his Lordship went 
 with a return-ticket, available for one month, by rail to Boulogne, and 
 then by one of the General Steam Navigation Company's ships to 
 London Bridge "Wharf, thence on by rail again to Firfield Station, 
 altogether to the damage of two pound five. Serious work for the 
 6ilk waistcoat ! 
 
 It was evening when his Lordship arrived, and Independent Jimmy 
 
THE FINISH. 383 
 
 was at the back of the station, as usual, catching the passengers as 
 they came out, just as a butcher catches sheep coming out of a fold. 
 
 "Noo then ! where are ye for ? " demanded Jimmy, getting hold of 
 his Lordship. 
 
 " Beldon Hall," replied the viscount. 
 
 " Then get in ! " exclaimed Jimmy, jerking his capped head towards 
 the open omnibus door. " ISoo then ! where are ye for?" inquired 
 he of another. And so he went on till the stream of humanity ceased 
 to flow. 
 
 He then climbed up on to his box and cut off : shortly after which 
 the process of setting down, " JNbo then This is so-and-so, get 
 oot!" commenced. " Noo then, this be Beldon! — get oot ! " at 
 length said he to his Lordship. And his Lordship got out accordingly, 
 slipping his bag into the lodge to be sent for as he passed. He then 
 slipped up to the house by the back way. 
 
 Being a lord, and feeling the advantage thereof; moreover remem- 
 beiing Frank Romford's peaceable demeanour at school, and recollecting 
 also that he himself was on a visit of inspection ; bis Lordship thought 
 he had better assume a little more intimacy than really existed, and 
 affect to come upon his tenant in the way of a friendly, agreeable 
 surprise. So, without ringing, he opened the door and let himself 
 into the house. The spacious hall was dark and gloomy — not even 
 a solitary tallow candle illuminating its monotony ; but if a man 
 can find his Way anywhere without a light, it is in his own house ; 
 and feeling rather comforted than otherwise at the absence of an 
 illumination, his Lordship passed through the echoing hall, and 
 entered the vestibule beyond. Here a light under the bottom of a 
 door indicated residence ; and after a momentary pause, he gave a 
 gentle tap. 
 
 " Come in/" roared Romford, thinking it was the strong, perse- 
 veri.i\g man who cleaned horses. " Come in !" repeated he still louder, 
 the first summons not being obeyed. 
 
 His Lordship then did as desired, and disclosed a tableau of consider- 
 able strength and variety. Before a bright, partly coal and partly 
 wood, fire, on a small round table of the finest buhl and red tortoise- 
 shell, stood Facey's old friend the gin-bottle, flanked with a half- 
 emptied tumbler and a well-stocked bag of tobacco ; our Master was 
 stretched at full length on a richly carved and gilt sofa, covered in old 
 Gobelin tapestry, the elbows and back in green Genoa velvet, smoking 
 his pipe at his ease. On the left of the table, shaded from the fire by 
 a clothes-horse containing sundry articles of male attire, sat Mrs. 
 
3S4 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 Somerville, in a reclining chair covered with rich purple and amber 
 6atin damask, darning a pair of Mr. Romford's old stockings. Having 
 a good front view, each started with astonishment at the sight of the 
 other. 
 
 However much boys may change as they grow up into men, there 
 will generally be some distinguishing feature by which they can be 
 recognised ; but under no possible process could the little dark-beady 
 black-eyed Romford of his Lordship's early days have grown up into 
 the great shaggy Herculean monster that now arose from his lair 
 before him. 
 
 His Lordship started, for he thought to give his old schoolfellow 
 an agreeable surprise ; and Romford started, for he was not accus- 
 tomed to intruders, and lidn't want to be troubled. Thej* then stood 
 staring at one another like Spanish pointers, each wondering who the 
 other was. 
 
 Lord Lovetin at length broke silence. " Beg pardon," said he, 
 " but I thought it was Mr. Romford." 
 
 " Romford it is," said Facey, yawning, and stretching out his 
 great arms as if to show the intruder what he had to contend with. 
 (He half thought it was somebody come after old Fog's £50.) 
 
 " But not the Romford I was at school with," observed his Lordship, 
 eyeing him intently. 
 
 "Don't know who you are, to begin with," replied Facey; "but 
 moy name's Romford," observed he ; " that oi'll swear to." 
 
 " I'm Lord Lovetin," replied his Lordship, mildly. 
 
 If his Lordship had put a pistol to our Master's head he could not 
 have given him a greater shock ; and forthwith all his acts of omission 
 and commission rushed to his mind with terrible velocity : the trifle of 
 rent, the conversion of the coach-horses, the spurious sister, the 
 turbot-on-its-tail seal. 
 
 We need not follow our friends through the denouement that ensued 
 on the discovery by his Lordship of the mistake he had made in jump- 
 ing to the conclusion that there was only one Mr. Romford in the 
 world, nor relate how Mr. Facey Romford not only insisted upon 
 sitting rent free during the time he had been at Beldon Hall, but also 
 upon receiving a handsome bonus for going out, which his Lordship, 
 albeit almost heart-broken at the sacrifice, thought it better to do 
 than submit to any further devastation and deterioration of property. 
 Ob, what a shock it was to him ! Knocked ten years out of his life, he 
 said. The more his Lordship saw, the less he liked what had been 
 going on. 
 
THE FINISH. 385 
 
 The place was indeed in shocking confusion : everything converted 
 into what it was not intended for. Betsey's old brass-eyed Balmorals 
 stuffed into the richly-carved Indian cabinet ; a pound of sugar and a 
 nip of tea placed under the shade of the figured and flowered Dresde v 
 timepiece, now left without any protection ; a statuary marble figure 
 of Psyche crowned with Facey's tenpenny wide-awake; and Mrs. 
 Somerville's dirty goloshes tucked under the arm of a companion 
 figure of Cupid. A majolica cup, with crest and coronet, was filled 
 with shot ; and in a Sevres tray, with turquoise-and-gold border, 
 reposed a battered old powder-flask. 
 
 And here let us say that we take shame unto ourselves for not as 
 yet having introduced the noble viscount personally to the reader. 
 Take then a short but faithful sketch, executed in the field in the 
 Detective style. Say five-and-forty years of age, five feet ten inches 
 high, sallow complexion, long visage, dark hair, thin on the top [like the 
 passionate gentleman's in "Punch"], dark hazel eyes, arched eye- 
 brows, narrow feet and a very narrow mind, short whiskers and long 
 spiral moustauche, stoutish build with a military air ; dressed in a 
 complete "Ditto" suit of brown, with a French wallet slung over 
 his shoulder, and a peaky French travelling-cap held in his hand ; 
 added to this, a peculiarity when speaking of shrugging up his 
 shoulders continually. 
 
 The news soon spread that his Lordship had cast-up — dropped in 
 " quite promiscuous," as the saying is, and was very ill-pleased with 
 all he had found. 
 
 The Dirties had come in for their share of the censure, and promul- 
 gated what passed pretty freely. And when a story once gets 
 admission into a house, it soon finds its way into the drawing- 
 room. 
 
 Still Facey had his friends in the hunting-field, men who said he 
 was the right Romford — the right man in the right place, as far as 
 they were concerned. He could kill a fox with any one, and had as 
 good a pack of hounds as ever came into a country. If he wasn't a 
 man of much blandishment, as Independent Jimmy said, still he could 
 go across country like a comet ; and nothing pleases people so much as 
 a dashing, fearless rider. 
 
 Facey, moreover, who, as our readers will perhaps have seen, had 
 assurance enough for anything, went on in his usual routine way, 
 hunting his country with great fairness and impartiality, contending — 
 with some degree of plausibility — that nobody had anything to do with 
 anything but his hounds. They might hunt with him or nut, just 
 
 c c 
 
386 mr. facey romford's hounds. 
 
 as they liked, he said ; hut he would be master of his own house (as 
 he continued to call Beldoh Hall), so he just advertised his meets as 
 before. 
 
 And indeed, but for a certain interesting circumstance, we don't 
 know but he would have continued to hunt the country up to the 
 present time, and that circumstance we shall now proceed to relate. 
 Amid all the snubbing and cold-shouldering that ensued, one house 
 remained firm and faithful to our Facey, and that was the house of 
 our distinguished friend Willy Watkins. Nobody there would hear 
 anything against Mr. Romford. They didn't " want to hear anything 
 against Mr. Romford." " They wouldn't hear anything against Mr. 
 Itomford. They begged that nobody would trouble themselves to tell 
 them anything against Mr. Eomford. The world was made up of 
 spite and ill-nature, and people generally spoke from an interested 
 motive." [This latter observation was levelled at Mrs.Hazey.] " Lord 
 Lovetin was a notorious screw, and doubtless wanted to cheat Mr. 
 Romford. Mr. Romford was quite right in resisting him." And 
 poor Willy was sent out hunting twice a week, in order to keep up 
 appearances ; this, too, when the now diminished fields made the risk 
 extra hazardous in the way of fencing, few caring to break them 
 for him. 
 
 And considering how the men were divided in opinion as to 
 whether Mr. Facey was the right Romford or not, there is nothing 
 extraordinary in a lady who knew so little about hunting as to 
 suppose that a bag-fox, or a day with Mr. Stotfold's stag-hounds, 
 would be acceptable to our Master, mistaking the controversy about 
 the keenness for the real question as to the ownership of Abbeyfield 
 Park, and as there was a doubt about the matter, giving the benefit 
 of the doubt to the party she was interested in, viz., to our Mr. 
 Romford. As the men couldn't marry Mr. Facey, they didn't care 
 whether he was the owner of Abbeyfield Park or not ; but ifc made all 
 the difference to Mrs. Watkins. There was, when she made her mis- 
 take, a very natural one. He was the right Romford to the gentlemen, 
 but not the ladies. 
 
 So Facey continued to visit at Dalberry Lees with his flute, taking 
 an occasional spin for a perch in the Trent as he passed ; and nothing 
 could be more cordial or encouraging than the family. 
 
 The reader will be surprised at the promotion of the match under 
 such circumstances, but the cause is easily explained. The fact was, 
 that the accounts from Australia had latterly been very discouraging. 
 The worthy papa had been much outwitted of late, and had made 
 
THE FINISH. 387 
 
 some very improvident speculations, as well with Willy's money as 
 his own. 
 
 Nor were the Honourable, and the lady who teas very nearly an 
 honourable, the only ones who sought the secret services of the church 
 at this memorable epoch. Strange as it may seem, our most sagacious 
 friend Facey led to the hymeneal altar our lofty-minded friend Cas- 
 sandra Cleopatra, with the full consent of her august parents. Nay, 
 it was difficult to say whether the Watkinses or Facey were most 
 anxious to hurry on the match, the "Watkinses considering that Cas- 
 sandra would be perfectly safe with her ample dower out of Abbeyfield 
 Park, while friend Facey thought it would be a very good thing to 
 have Dalberry Lees to fall back upon when matters should burst 
 up at Beldon Hall. 
 
 Our fair readers will perhaps think that there is not sufficient 
 inducement here shown for our lisping friend foregoing that greatest 
 triumph of female life, the excitement and preparation of a grand 
 wedding. Men always wish them over as quietly as possible : ladies 
 can never make fuss and display enough. Well, but there was a 
 reason for it, notwithstanding, as we have before intimated. The fact 
 was, that the worthy old convict whom we left in the colony to manage 
 his own and his son-in-law's, affairs, while the latter and his wife, 
 or lady, as her husband called her, came over to England to see if 
 there was anybody good enough for the daughter, had had the mis- 
 fortune to make some very bad speculations, and bad lost the greater 
 part of that wealth which Willy had lost the greater part of his hair 
 in obtaining. 
 
 It was not, therefore, desirable to undergo the manipulation of the 
 lawyers on Cassandra's account, and they could therefore hardly ask 
 Mr. Eomford to submit to it on theirs. They had no doubt at all 
 that Mr. Eomford was very rich, and that it would do uncommonly 
 well. And Mr. Romford, not being inclined to write for the title- 
 deeds of Abbeyfield Park, or indeed to have any unnecessary 
 hiatus in his hunting, agreed that it was far the best to manage 
 matters quietly, and then go to London and have a flare-up in the 
 spring. People get far more for their money there, he said, and he 
 knew everybody in London, — Smith, and Brown, and Bates, and 
 all. 
 
 The Eomford stud sold uncommonly well, as it naturally would 
 where its good qualities only were known. Placid Joe passed into the 
 hands of Mr. Hazey for £90, and having borne him triumphantly 
 through the thick of his own hounds, quickly passed out again at 
 
388 MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 a loss of £60. Hard day for poor Hazey. He thought to stick him 
 into Sir Theophilus Thickset at a considerable premium. 
 
 Mr. Joseph Large bought the fine weight- carrying boy called 
 " Everlasting," but which declined against the hills, and was very 
 well suited, the horse being always as ready to stop as Large was 
 himself. So they agreed capitally together. Large gave £80 
 for him, teapot-handles being rather on the rise at the time of 
 the sale. 
 
 " Ten-and-a-half-per-Cent." bought "Perfection," the nutmeg grey, 
 with a partiality for scrubbing its rider's legs up against carriage- 
 wheels; and the brute having subsequently made rubbing posts of 
 the postman's gig, Linseed the doctor's fly, and Marrow the butcher's 
 cart, his owner was at length constrained to come to the conclusion 
 that he had better send "Perfection" to Aldridge's, where he was 
 knocked down for a £10 note — his character being perfectly well 
 known to the frequenters of the Repository. 
 
 "When Pacey and the Watkinses came to the knowledge of the doo 
 they had practised on each other some sharp passages were exchanged, 
 and a family war was on the point of commencing, when the name 
 of Willy Watkins made its appearance in the Gazette. Pacey was 
 not the man, he said, to kick a foe when he was down ; so it was 
 agreed that all matters of difference between them should be buried 
 in oblivion, and that Romford and wife should start forthwith to 
 the Antipodes, and look after the old convict and the wreck of 
 "Willy's property. This resolution was forthwith acted upon : 
 and, strange to say, almost the first person our hero met in the 
 streets of Melbourne, just opposite Bright, Brothers, & Co.'s store, at 
 the corner of Plinder's Lane and Bond Street, was our estimable 
 friend Mr. Sponge, the runaway husband of the all -accomplished Mrs. 
 Somerville, who has played so conspicuous a part in our story. Soapey 
 — looking as brisk and spruce as a man who has lit on his legs and can 
 hold up his head before anybody — very different to the Mr. Sponge 
 who bolted by the backway from the cigar-shop in Jermyn Street; 
 and though that " sivin-pun-ten " was still standing against him, it 
 did not prevent Mr. Sponge hailing his creditor with unfeigned 
 cordiality. 
 
 And indeed he had good cause for looking brisk, for he too had 
 been to the diggings, and, not far from where friend Willy Watkins 
 feathered his nest, had pitched upon some uncommonly good nuggets, 
 which he had now come to Melbourne to sell. People who will pass 
 each other on the grand street of life — the Parks or Pall Mall, for 
 
THE FINISH. 88 J) 
 
 instance — will fraternise uncommonly on a Swiss mountain, or at the 
 Antipodes. So it was with our distinguished heroes. 
 
 Of course Facey knew nothing about Lucy, and, upon the principle 
 that where ignorance is bliss 'twere folly to be wise, Soapey was not 
 extra-inquisitive about her. To the credit of Betsey Shannon, who 
 had gained such an ascendancy over her sapient husband as a spirited 
 young woman like her ought to acquire, Mrs. Somerville had a capital 
 billet at Flush House, where she was treated with the greatest respect 
 by the old buff-vested Lord and his Lady. They thought Lucy was 
 second only to Betsey in beauty and breeding. But dependence is 
 irksome, and Lucy presently longed for a crust of bread and a crib of 
 her own. 
 
 The attainment of these desiderata shortly afterwards presented 
 itself in the following letter from Betsey Lonnergan, who had gone 
 up to town for a few days, leaving Lucy in possession of Flush 
 Hall:— 
 
 " Mawley's Hotel, 
 
 " Wenesday. 
 
 " Dear Lucy. — I write to say we shant come home till after the 
 turn of the week, as Lovetin and me am going for a couple of days to 
 Fokestone to see a cousen of his. 
 
 " You mustnt be dull, but keep your spirits up like a little brick 
 as you are. 
 
 " Now for some news, which will make your back hair stand out 
 like a Chinese man's pigtail. I were setting in ourcarrige at Carling's 
 the sighgur shop's door in Regent Street, whiles Lovey had gone in to 
 get some weeds, when who should I clap my eyes on but Bellviile as> 
 ' used to was ' with us you know afore he went to Orstralia — (is that 
 right ? — well, if isn't, you know what it means). 
 
 " Bellville went to lead in tragedy, you know, up at the diggins', 
 and a pretty tidy pike he has made on it. He was dressed quite like 
 a swell — blue frock coat, with brade and frogs and a poodle collar, 
 and his trowseys were tite, d la Charley Mathews, only they had 
 brade down 'em too. Mustash, of course, and all that. Well, he 
 stares at me and me at him, till he sees me smile, and then he offs 
 with his tile and makes up to the carrige-door. After a short scene 
 of surprise, he asks, ' Commy foe ? ' — Quite correct, eh ? 
 
 " ' Of course,' says I, with a frown ; and then we both laughed, 
 as you may fancy. 
 
 " Well, B. told me what ' tremendous success ' he had had.— 
 
39C MR. FACEY ROMFORD S HOUNDS. 
 
 thought him Macready in disguise — gave him half share of the house, 
 and a clear ' Ben ' * every month — and he has made mopusses enuff 
 to come hack quite indiapendent. 
 
 " ' "What's that to me ? ' says you, 'or to Betsey Shannon ' now she's 
 the hride of another ?" 
 
 " This is what it is. In course of conversashun he asked after 
 you, and why you and Soapey had parted. I told him the truth — 
 how Soapey had bolted and left you to shift for yourself. ' Then,' 
 says B., ' I can give her the cue to find him again, if she wishes it. 
 He's doing furst rate at Melburn; and if she's short of rowdy to pay 
 her passige out, Im ready, for " Awl Lang Sign," to lend it her.' 
 
 " There, my dear, that's something for you to think about till me 
 and Lovey come home again — and here he is, ready to take me to the 
 Canterbury, where I have teased him to go this evening. 
 
 "Bless you, dear, and please see that fires are kep in our bedroom 
 and my bodore. Good-by. 
 
 " Tour affectionate friend, 
 
 " Betsey Loxxeegan." 
 
 Lucy did not long deliberate over the contents of her friend's letter 
 before she decided to share the success of her Sponge. She resolved 
 to discard the assumed name of Somerville, and set out for the Antipodes 
 in search of him ; so, following in the wake of the Bomfords, she 
 presently found him, and both Facey and Soapey gave her a most 
 cordial greeting. 
 
 The voyage out had agreed with her, and she was looking, if pos- 
 sible, handsomer than ever. Soapey took to her without hesitation, on 
 the sensible principle of letting " bygones be bygones/' And Facey, 
 who was a capital manager, so long as he hadn't the old lady to con- 
 tend with, had, with the aid of twins, got the lisper into such sub- 
 jection and good order that Beldon Hall was all ignored — never 
 mentioned. 
 
 Indeed, Mr. Romford didn't see why, saving the elegance of the 
 name, Lucy shouldn't have called herself Mrs. Sponge instead of Mrs. 
 Somerville. 
 
 And we are happy to say that old Granby Fitzgerald's defalcations 
 were not so utterly ruinous as were at first expected. There is some- 
 thing saved out of the fire for "Willy, while Facey, with his natural 
 aptitude for taking care of himself, has secured a trifle also; which.. 
 
 * /. e. half the receipts, and a benefit free of charge. 
 
THE FINISH. 
 
 391 
 
 •with what he took out with him, makes him up quite a purse. The 
 last account heard of Soapey and him was that they were going to 
 set up a hank in Collins Street East, under the firm of 
 
 " KOMFOKD AND SPONGE." 
 
 &ood luck attend their exertions, say we! "We expect to hear of 
 their setting up a pack of hounds together next. 
 
 THE END 
 
 ■LOJTDCS : 
 BBADBUBT, AGNEW, & CO., PBIKTEBS, WH1TBTBIA2& 
 
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