‘Hang him,’ interrupted Caingey Thornton, ’there are good men in all countries.’

‘So there are!’ exclaimed Mr. Spareneck, the steeple-chase rider.

’I’ve no notion of a fellow lording it, because he happens to come out of Leicestershire,’ rejoined Mr. Thornton.

‘Nor I!’ exclaimed Mr. Spareneck.

‘Why doesn’t he stay in Leicestershire?’ asked Mr. Hoppey, now raising his voice for the first time—­adding, ‘Who asked him here?’

‘Who, indeed?’ sneered Mr. Thornton.

In this mood our friends arrived at the Imperial Hotel, where there was always a dinner the day before hunting—­a dinner that, somehow, was served up in Mr. Waffles’s rooms, who was allowed the privilege of paying for all those who did not pay for themselves; rather a considerable number, we believe.

The best of everything being good enough for the guests, and profuse liberality the order of the day, the cloth generally disappeared before a contented audience, whatever humour they might have set down in.  As the least people can do who dine at an inn and don’t pay their own shot, is to drink the health of the man who does pay, Mr. Waffles was always lauded and applauded to the skies—­such a master—­such a sportsman—­such knowledge—­such science—­such a pattern-card.  On this occasion the toast was received with extra enthusiasm, for the proposer, Mr. Caingey Thornton, who was desperately in want of a mount, after going the rounds of the old laudatory course, alluded to the threatened vapourings of the stranger, and expressed his firm belief that he would ‘meet with his match,’ a ’taking of the bull by the horns,’ that met with very considerable favour from the wine-flushed party, the majority of whom, at that moment, made very ‘small,’ in their own minds, of the biggest fence that ever was seen.

There is nothing so easy as going best pace over the mahogany.

Mr. Waffles, who was received with considerable applause, and patting of the table, responded to the toast in his usual felicitous style, assuring the company that he lived but for the enjoyment of their charming society, and that all the money in the world would be useless, if he hadn’t Laverick Wells to spend it in.  With regard to the vapourings of a ’certain gentleman,’ he thought it would be very odd if some of them could not take the shine out of him, observing that ‘Brag’ was a good dog, but ‘Holdfast’ was a better, with certain other sporting similes and phrases, all indicative of showing fight.  The steam is soon got up after dinner, and as they were all of the same mind, and all agreed that a gross insult had been offered to the hunt in general, and themselves in particular, the only question was, how to revenge it.  At last they hit upon it.  Old Slocdolager, the late master of the hunt, had been in the habit of having Tom Towler, the huntsman, to his lodgings the night before hunting, where, over a glass of gin-and-water, they discussed the doings of the day, and the general arrangements of the country.