this very yard in
one round three years ago; didn't I, Symmonds?" said he to the
understrapper, who held down his head, muttering in a surly tone, "I
didn't come here to fight; let every one take his own part." "That's
right, Symmonds," said the other, "especially every one from whom there
is nothing to be got. I would give you half-a-crown for all the trouble
you have had, provided I were not afraid that my Lord Plume there would
get it from you as soon as you leave the yard together. Come, take
yourselves both off; there's nothing to be made here." Indeed, his
lordship seemed to be of the same opinion, for after a further glance at
the horse, a contemptuous look at me, and a scowl at the jockey, he
turned on his heel, muttering something which sounded like fellows, and
stalked out of the yard, followed by Symmonds.

"And now, young man," said the jockey, or whatever he was, turning to me
with an arch leer, "I suppose I may consider myself as the purchaser of
this here animal, for the use and behoof of this young gentleman," making
a sign with his head towards the tall young man by his side. "By no
means," said I; "I am utterly unacquainted with either of you, and before
parting with the horse I must be satisfied as to the respectability of
the purchaser." "Oh! as to that matter," said he, "I have plenty of
vouchers for my respectability about me;" and, thrusting his hand into
his bosom below his waistcoat, he drew out a large bundle of notes.
"These are the kind of things," said he, "which vouch best for a man's
respectability." "Not always," said I; "indeed, sometimes these kind of
things need vouchers for themselves." The man looked at me with a
peculiar look. "Do you mean to say that these notes are not sufficient
notes?" said he, "because if you do I shall take the liberty of thinking
that you are not over civil, and when I thinks a person is not over and
above civil I sometimes takes off my coat; and when my coat is off . . ."
"You sometimes knock people down," I added; "well, whether you knock me
down or not, I beg leave to tell you that I am a stranger in this fair,
and that I shall part with the horse to nobody who has no better
guarantee for his respectability than a roll of bank-notes, which may be
good or not for what I know, who am not a judge of such things." "Oh! if
you are a stranger here," said the man, "as I believe you are, never
having seen you here before except last night, when I think I