velty of the embrace, and most
cordially joined hands with those of his friend. They then struck up a
mixture of broken English and equally broken French, in mutual inquiries
after each other's healths and movements, and presuming that Mr.
Jorrocks was following up the sporting trade in Paris, the Baron most
considerately gave him his best recommendations which horse to back,
kindly betting with him himself, but, unfortunately, at each time
assigning Mr. Jorrocks the losing horse. At length, being completely
cleaned out, he declined any further transactions, and having got the
Countess into the cab, was in the act of climbing in himself, when
someone took him by the sword as he was hoisting himself up by the
wooden apron, and drew him back to the ground. "Holloa, Stubbs, my
boy!" cried he, "I'm werry 'appy to see ye," holding out his hand, and
thereupon Mr. Stubbs took off his hat to the Countess. "Well now, the
deuce be in these French," observed Mr. Jorrocks, confidentially, in an
undertone as, resigning the reins to Agamemnon, he put his arm through
the Yorkshireman's and drew out of hearing of the Countess behind the
cab--"the deuce be in them. I say. There's that beggarly Baron as we met
at Newmarket has just diddled me out of four Naps and a half, by getting
me to back 'osses that he said were certain to win, and I really don't
know how we are to make 'tongue and buckle' meet, as the coachmen say.
Somehow or other they are far too sharp for me. Cards, dominoes, dice,
backgammon, and racing, all one--they inwariably beat me, and I declare
I haven't as much pewter as will coach me to Calais." The Yorkshireman,
as may be supposed, was not in a condition of any great pecuniary
assistance, but after a turn or two along the mound, he felt it would
be a reproach on his country if he suffered his friend to be done by
a Frenchman, and on consideration he thought of a trick that Monsieur
would not be up to. Accordingly, desiring Mr. Jorrocks to take him to
the Baron, and behave with great cordiality, and agree to the proposal
he should make, they set off in search of that worthy, who, after some
trouble, they discovered in the "Cottage of Content," entertaining John
Jones and his comrades with an account of the manner in which he had
fleeced Monsieur Shorrock. The Yorkshireman met him with the greatest
delight, shook hands with him over and over again, and then began
talking about racing, pigeon-shooting, and Newmarket, prete