nd clonk, clonk, clonked downstairs to the door.

'Multum in Parvo' stopped the doorway, across whose shoulder Leather passed
the following hints, in a low tone of voice, to Mr. Sponge, as the latter
stood drawing on his dogskin gloves, the observed, as he flattered himself,
of all observers.

'Mind now,' said Leather, 'this oss as a will of his own; though he seems
so quiet like, he's not always to be depended on; so be on the look-out for
squalls.'

Sponge, having had a glass of brandy, just mounted with the air of a man
thoroughly at home with his horse, and drawing the rein, with a slight feel
of the spur, passed on from the door to make way for the redoubtable
Hercules. Hercules was evidently not in a good humour. His ears were laid
back, and the rolling white eye showed mischief. Sponge saw all this, and
turned to see whether Thornton's clumsy, wash-ball seat, would be able to
control the fractious spirit of the horse.

'Whoay!' roared Thornton, as his first dive at the stirrup missed, and was
answered by a hearty kick out from the horse, the 'whoay' being given in a
very different tone to the gentle, coaxing style of Mr. Buckram and his
men. Had it not been for the brandy within and the lookers-on without,
there is no saying but Caingey would have declined the horse's further
acquaintance. As it was, he quickly repeated his attempt at the stirrup
with the same sort of domineering 'whoay,' adding, as he landed in the
saddle and snatched at the reins, 'Do you think I stole you?'

Whatever the horse's opinion might be on that point, he didn't seem to care
to express it, for finding kicking alone wouldn't do, he immediately
commenced rearing too, and by a desperate plunge, broke away from the
groom, before Thornton had either got him by the head or his feet in the
stirrups. Three most desperate bounds he gave, rising at the bit as though
he would come back over if the hold was not relaxed, and the fourth effort
bringing him to the opposite kerb-stone, he up again with such a bound and
impetus that he crashed right through Messrs. Frippery and Flummery's fine
plate-glass window, to the terror and astonishment of their elegant young
counter-skippers, who were busy arranging their ribbons and finery for the
day. Right through the window Hercules went, switching through book muslins
and bareges as he would through a bullfinch, and attempting to make his
exit by a large plate-glass mirror against the wall of the cloak-