Cope. Yes; and he’s promised to put him up first.
Gul. Mind, you’re the seller,—I’m the bidder—hallo! here’s three swells coming this way—that one in the middle, looks like a flat, we must try it on upon him.
Cope. Hush! don’t let’s appear to know one another.
Enter TOM, JERRY, and LOGIC.
Tom. Confound the little gipsy, she has fairly given us the slip, by Jupiter—however, the assignation must be attended to.—Almack’s! smacks well. You are now at Tattersall’s, Jerry, a very worthy fellow, who made his fortune by a horse called Highflyer. In remembrance of whom the following epitaph was written:—
Here Lieth
The perfect and beautiful symmetry
Of the much-lamented
HIGHFLYER;
By whom, and his wonderful offspring,
The celebrated Tattersall acquired a noble fortune,
But he was not ashamed to acknowledge it.
In gratitude to this famous
Stallion
He called an elegant mansion he built
Highflyer Hall.
Jerry. Hum! and if one may judge from the splendour and extent of his premises, he seems to be no small highflyer himself.
Tom. You are right, Jerry—I shall here buy a bit of cavalry—that is a prad, on your judgment.
Jerry. You’ll not find me at fault here, depend on’t.
Tom. What you’re up, eh?