en he crowned all
by going thrice over the leaping-bar, and Philip, dismounting, threw the
reins to the ostler, and turned triumphantly to the horse-dealer, that
gentleman slapped him on the back, and said, emphatically, "Sir, you are
a man! and I am proud to see you here."

Meanwhile the horse-dealers gathered round the animal; looked at his
hoofs, felt his legs, examined his windpipe, and concluded the bargain,
which, but for Philip, would have been very abruptly broken off. When
the horse was led out of the yard, the liveryman, Mr. Stubmore, turned
to Philip, who, leaning against the wall, followed the poor animal with
mournful eyes.

"My good sir, you have sold that horse for me--that you have! Anything
as I can do for you? One good turn de serves another. Here's a brace of
shiners."

"Thank you, sir! I want no money, but I do want some employment. I can
be of use to you, perhaps, in your establishment. I have been brought up
among horses all my life."

"Saw it, sir! that's very clear. I say, that 'ere horse knows you!" and
the dealer put his finger to his nose.

"Quite right to be mum! He was bred by an old customer of mine--famous
rider!--Mr. Beaufort. Aha! that's where you knew him, I s'pose. Were you
in his stables?"

"Hem--I knew Mr. Beaufort well."

"Did you? You could not know a better man. Well, I shall be very glad
to engage you, though you seem by your hands to be a bit of a
gentleman-elh? Never mind; don't want you to groom!--but superintend
things. D'ye know accounts, eh?"

"Yes."

"Character?"

Philip repeated to Mr. Stubmore the story he had imparted to Mr. Clump.
Somehow or other, men who live much with horses are always more lax in
their notions than the rest of mankind. Mr. Stubmore did not seem to
grow more distant at Philip's narration.

"Understand you perfectly, my man. Brought up with them 'ere fine
creturs, how could you nail your nose to a desk? I'll take you without
more palaver. What's your name?"

"Philips."

"Come to-morrow, and we'll settle about wages. Sleep here?"

"No. I have a brother whom I must lodge with, and for whose sake I wish
to work. I should not like him to be at the stables--he is too young.
But I can come early every day, and go home late."

"Well, just as you like, my man. Good day."

And thus, not from any mental accomplishment--not from the result of his
intellectual education, but from the mere physical capacity and brute
habit of sticking fast