s hounds, and when any one said a
kind word as to their doings, that he would take as a compliment. It was
they who were there to do the work of the day, which horses and men
could only look at. He was a sincere, honest, taciturn, and withal,
affectionate man, who could on an occasion be very angry with those who
offended him. He knew well what he could do, and never attempted that
which was beyond his power. "How are you, Mr. Harkaway?" said Harry.

"How are you, Mr. Annesley? how are you?" said the master, with all the
grace of which he was capable. But Harry caught a tone in his voice
which he thought implied displeasure. And Mr. Harkaway had in truth
heard the story,--how Harry had been discarded at Buston because he had
knocked the man down in the streets at night-time and had then gone
away. After that Mr. Harkaway toddled off, and Harry sat and frowned
with embittered heart.

"Well, Malt-and-hops, and how are you?" This came from a fast young
banker who lived in the neighborhood, and who thus intended to show his
familiarity with the brewer; but when he saw Annesley, he turned round
and rode away. "Scaly trick that fellow played the other day. He knocked
a fellow down, and, when he thought that he was dead, he lied about it
like old boots." All of which made itself intelligible to Harry. He told
himself that he had always hated that banker.

"Why do you let such a fellow as that call you Malt-and-hops?" he said
to Joshua.

"What,--young Florin? He's a very good fellow, and doesn't mean
anything."

"A vulgar cad, I should say."

Then he rode on in silence till he was addressed by an old gentleman of
the county who had known his father for the last thirty years. The old
gentleman had had nothing about him to recommend him either to Harry's
hatred or love till he spoke; and after that Harry hated him. "How d'you
do, Mr. Annesley?" said the old gentleman, and then rode on. Harry knew
that the old man had condemned him as the others had done, or he would
never have called him Mr. Annesley. He felt that he was "blown upon" in
his own county, as well as by the Ingoldsbys down in Kent.

They had but a moderate day's sport, going a considerable distance in
search of it, till an incident arose which gave quite an interest to the
field generally, and nearly brought Joshua Thoroughbung into a scrape.
They were drawing a covert which was undoubtedly the property of their
own hunt,--or rather just going to draw it,--wh