d to the stable or the kennel--the best
driver, best rider, best trainer of a greyhound, and best finder of a
hare, in all Berkshire.

He was, as usual, accompanied on this errand by one of his four-footed
favourites, a delicate snow-white greyhound called Mayfly, of whom Miss
Philly flatteringly observed, that "she was as beautiful as china;" and
upon the civil lady of the shop proceeding to inquire after the health
of his master and mistress, and the general news of Aberleigh, master
Ben, who well knew her proficiency in gossiping, and had the dislike
of a man and a rival to any female practitioner in that art, checked at
once this condescending overture to conversation by answering with more
than his usual consequence: "The chief news that I know, Miss Firkin,
is, that our geraniums are all pining away for want of fresh earth, and
that I am sent in furious haste after a load of your best garden-pots.
There's no time to be lost, I can tell you, if you mean to save their
precious lives. Miss Ada is upon her last legs, and master Diomede in a
galloping consumption--two of our prime geraniums, ma'am!" quoth Dick,
with a condescending nod to Miss Wolfe, as that Lilliputian lady looked
up at him with a stare of unspeakable mystification; "queerish names,
a'tot they? Well, there are the patterns of the sizes, and there's the
order; so if your little gentleman will but look the pots out, I have
left the cart in Jem Tyler's yard, (I've a message to Jem from master,)
and we can pack 'em over the paling. I suppose you've a ladder for the
little man's use, in loading carts and waggons, if not Jem or I can take
them from him. There is not a better-natured fellow in England than Jem
Tyler, and he'll be sure to do me a good turn any day, if it's only for
the love of our Mayfly here. He bred her, poor thing, and is well nigh
as fond of her as if she was a child of his own; and so's Sam. Nay,
what's the matter with you all?" pursued Dick, as at the name of Jem
Tyler Miss Wolfe turned up her hands and eyes, Mr. Lamb let fall the
pattern pots, and Miss Philly flung the order upon the counter--"What
the deuce is come to the people?"

And then out burst the story of the last night's adventure, of Mr.
Lamb's scratched face, which indeed was visible enough, of Miss Wolfe's
bruises, of the broken china, the cow, the donkey, and the action at
law.

"Whew!" whistled Dick in an aside whistle; "going to law is she? We
must pacify her if we c