for this short young gentleman,” said he, motioning with his finger to the gigantic youth.  “Well, sir,” said the other, “and what business have you to interfere between me and any purchase I may be disposed to make?” “Well, then,” said the other, “be quick and purchase the horse, or, perhaps, I may.”  “Do you think I am to be dictated to by a fellow of your description?” said his lordship, “begone, or—­” “What do you ask for this horse?” said the other to me, very coolly.  “A hundred and fifty,” said I.  “I shouldn’t mind giving it to you,” said he.  “You will do no such thing,” said his lordship, speaking so fast that he almost stuttered.  “Sir,” said he to me, “I must give you what you ask; Symmonds, take possession of the animal for me,” said he to the other jockey who attended him.  “You will please to do no such thing without my consent,” said I, “I have not sold him.”  “I have this moment told you that I will give you the price you demand,” said his lordship; “is not that sufficient?” “No,” said I, “there is a proper manner of doing everything—­had you come forward in a manly and gentlemanly manner to purchase the horse, I should have been happy to sell him to you, but after all the fault you have found with him, I would not sell him to you at any price, so send your friend to find up another.”  “You behave in this manner, I suppose,” said his lordship, “because this fellow has expressed a willingness to come to your terms.  I would advise you to be cautious how you trust the animal in his hands; I think I have seen him before, and could tell you—­” “What can you tell of me?” said the other, going up to him; “except that I have been a poor dicky-boy, and that now I am a dealer in horses, and that my father was lagged; that’s all you could tell of me, and that I don’t mind telling myself:  but there are two things they can’t say of me, they can’t say that I am either a coward or a screw either, except so far as one who gets his bread by horses may be expected to be; and they can’t say of me that I ever ate up an ice which a young woman was waiting for, or that I ever backed out of a fight.  Horse!” said he, motioning with his finger tauntingly to the other; “what do you want with a horse, except to take the bread out of the mouth of a poor man—­to-morrow is not the battle of Waterloo, so that you don’t want to back out of danger, by pretending to have hurt yourself by falling from the creature’s back, my lord of the white feather—­come, none of your fierce looks—­I am not afraid of you.”  In fact, the other had assumed an expression of the deadliest malice, his teeth were clenched, his lips quivered, and were quite pale; the rat-like eyes sparkled, and he made a half spring, a la rat, towards his adversary, who only laughed.  Restraining himself, however, he suddenly turned to his understrapper, saying, “Symmonds, will you see me thus insulted? go and trounce this scoundrel; you can, I know.”  “Symmonds trounce me!” said the other, going up to the person addressed,