He is mounted, perhaps, on a raking-looking chestnut mare. There is a good deal of "furniture" about her, such as breast-plate and martingale; the throat-strap is broad, and the band across the forehead is blue and white enamel. That the mare can jump there is no doubt, for she sails over the big bank and ditch in rare form, and for two or three fields (Captain) Seaford is in front. After a little he is to be seen on another animal, which, when there are enough people round to see, can perform nearly as well as the chestnut, who is now on her way home. If anyone happens to meet her they will be somewhat surprised to see how lame she goes. "Run a nail into 'er 'oof," is the groom's version; but an F.R.C.V.S. would be puzzled to find that nail, and his certificate would show the lameness to proceed from a very different cause.
It is a marvel how Seaford manages to "pick up" so many flats, but he does a thriving trade; and though occasionally he has to square an unpleasant business, he has always a plausible tale ready to hand, and so comes out with merely a scratch on his somewhat shady character.
Once he outdid himself, and was as nearly put in prison as ever he wishes to be. It happened as follows. One evening, late, a couple of fur-capped individuals brought a horse into his yard and asked him if he would buy. A glance showed him the animal was valuable, and the price asked being only twenty pounds Seaford naturally concluded that it was a stolen one. However, he argued, it was nothing to do with him, and bought it there and then. Next day the police found it in his stables, and hard work it was for the Freshfield lawyer to prevent the magistrates committing the gallant Captain as a receiver of stolen goods.
The reason for his having incurred Jimmy's hatred is because he was sharp enough once, soon after he had come into the country, to sell him a broken-winded nag; and Jimmy never hears the last of it to this day. However, he swears he will be "even with the scamp yet," and being a man of his word there is little doubt but that he will.
THE GRUMBLER.
A very enthusiastic individual is Mr. Bowles, J.P., or, as he is more generally called, The Major, from his connection with the local Volunteer force, which, it may almost be said, he founded. Liberal with his money, and at heart a good fellow and keen sportsman, his one great failing is the use, or abuse, of that Englishman's acknowledged privilege—grumbling.
He is never happy unless he is finding fault with something or somebody. No matter what it is, the stars in their courses have always conspired against him personally, or some unfortunate person has done the very thing they should not have done, and so brought the matter in hand to utter grief.