heard no more till I got to Melton, for I didn't go to my haunt's
at Mount Sorrel that night, and I saw little of the run, for my oss was
rather puffy, livin' principally on chaff, bran mashes, swedes, and soft
food; and when I got to Melton, I heard 'ow Mr. Sponge had bought this
oss,' Mr. Buckram nodding his head at the horse as he spoke, 'and 'ow that
he'd given the matter o' two 'under'd--or I'm not sure it weren't two
'under'd-and-fifty guineas for 'im, and--'

'Well,' interrupted Mr. Waffles, tired of his verbosity, 'and what did they
say about the horse?'

'Why,' continued Mr. Buckram, thoughtfully, propping his chin up with his
stick, and drawing all the half-crowns up to the top of his pocket again,
'the fust 'spicious thing I heard was Sir Digby Snaffle's grum, Sam, sayin'
to Captain Screwley's bat-man grum, jist afore the George Inn door,--

'"Well, Jack, Tommy's sold the brown oss!"

'"N--O--O--R!" exclaimed Jack, starin' 'is eyes
out, as if it were unpossible.

'"He '_as_ though," said Sam.

'"Well, then, I 'ope the gemman's fond o' walkin'," exclaimed Jack, bustin'
out a laughin' and runnin' on.

'This rayther set me a thinkin',' continued Mr. Buckram, dropping a second
half-crown, which jinked against the nest-egg one left at the bottom, 'and
fearin' that Mr. Sponge had fallen 'mong the Philistines--which I was werry
concerned about, for he's a real nice gent, but thoughtless, as many young
gents are who 'ave plenty of tin--I made it my business to inquire 'bout
this oss; and if he _is_ the oss that I saw in Leicestersheer, and I 'ave
little doubt about it (dropping two consecutive half-crowns as he spoke),
though I've not seen him out, I--'

'Ah! well, I bought him of Mr. Sponge, who said he got him from Lord
Bullfrog,' interrupted Mr. Waffles.

'Ah! then he _is_ the oss, in course,' said Mr. Buckram, with a sort of
mournful chuck of the chin; 'he _is_ the oss,' repeated he; 'well, then,
he's a dangerous hanimal,' added he, letting slip three half-crowns.

'What does he do?' asked Mr. Waffles.

'Do!' repeated Mr. Buckram, 'DO! he'll do for anybody.'

'Indeed,' responded Mr. Waffles; adding, 'how could Mr. Sponge sell me such
a brute?'

'I doesn't mean to say, mind ye,' observed Mr. Buckram, drawing back three
half-crowns, as though he had gone that much too far,--'I doesn't mean to
say, mind, that he's wot you call a misteched, runaway,
rear-backwards-over-hanimal--but I mean to say he's a