“This short young gentleman was recommended to me by a great landed proprietor, to whom he bore letters of recommendation from some great prince in his own country, who had a long time ago been entertained at the house of the landed proprietor, and the consequence is, that I brings young six foot six to Horncastle, and purchases for him the horse of the Romany Rye.  I don’t do these kind things for nothing, it is true; that can’t be expected; for every one must live by his trade; but, as I said before, when I am treated handsomely, I treat folks so.  Honesty, I have discovered, as perhaps some other people have, is by far the best policy; though, as I also said before, when I’m along with thieves, I can beat them at their own game.  If I am obliged to do it, I can pass off the veriest screw as a flying drummedary, for even when I was a child I had found out by various means what may be done with animals.  I wish now to ask a civil question, Mr. Romany Rye.  Certain folks have told me that you are a horse witch; are you one, or are you not?”

“I, like yourself,” said I, “know, to a certain extent, what may be done with animals.”

“Then how would you, Mr. Romany Rye, pass off the veriest screw in the world for a flying drummedary?”

“By putting a small live eel down his throat; as long as the eel remained in his stomach, the horse would appear brisk and lively in a surprising degree.”

“And how would you contrive to make a regular kicker and biter appear so tame and gentle, that any respectable fat old gentleman of sixty, who wanted an easy goer, would be glad to purchase him for fifty pounds?”

“By pouring down his throat four pints of generous old ale, which would make him so happy and comfortable, that he would not have the heart to kick or bite anybody, for a season at least.”

“And where did you learn all this?” said the jockey.

“I have read about the eel in an old English book, and about the making drunk in a Spanish novel, and, singularly enough, I was told the same things by a wild blacksmith in Ireland.  Now tell me, do you bewitch horses in this way?”

“I?” said the jockey; “mercy upon us!  I wouldn’t do such things for a hatful of money.  No, no, preserve me from live eels and hocussing!  And now let me ask you, how would you spirit a horse out of a field?”

“How would I spirit a horse out of a field?”

“Yes; supposing you were down in the world, and had determined on taking up the horse-stealing line of business.”

“Why, I should—­ But I tell you what, friend, I see you are trying to pump me, and I tell you plainly that I will hear something from you with respect to your art, before I tell you anything more.  Now how would you whisper a horse out of a field, provided you were down in the world, and so forth?”