"Ay, ay, I recollect! What does Hockley say of him?"
"Hockley says he's tearer! groom as browt him to steamer said as nowt could hold him! I'se warrant we teach him manners!"
"Yes; I'll do that myself, and at once too! I want a little rousing. Put a pair into the wagonette, Freeman, and drive me down to Down Street. I'll give this horse a turn at once!"
Besides her establishment at The Den, Kate Mellon had a set of stables near Piccadilly, which were mainly devoted to the reception of new arrivals from the country, and as temporary resting-places for the horses required for Rotten-Row pupils. These stables were equally perfectly appointed with The Den; and when the wagonette containing Kate and her head-groom drove in, she found a portion of her staff ready to receive her.
"What's this new Irish horse like, Tanner?" said she to her town manager.
"A bad 'un, miss; a rank bad 'un as ever stepped! Good 'oss, fine-made 'oss jump any think; good slopin' shoulders, and henormous quarters; but the temper of--savin' your presence--the devil! He pinned one of the men when he was a-dressin' him this morning, and his hi rolls fearful;" and Mr. Tanner, who, though a thorough horseman, was an undeniable Cockney, led the way towards the loose box where the new arrival was standing. "They calls 'im Balthazar," said he; "and if that means a out-an'-out bad 'un, they're right."
They found him in a loose box at the end of the yard, a big brown-black horse, sixteen and a half, six off, with a long lean head, deep neck, round barrel, deep chest, low back, short forehand, big broad foot. As the door of the box opened he turned his eye round, showing an inflamed white, put back his ears, and lashed out savagely.
"Hold on, mon!" said old Freeman; "steady, boy; let's look at thee;" and the old man went fearlessly up to the horse's head, and placing his hand in the head-collar, commenced turning him about.
"Send one of your men for my saddle, Tanner, and put No. 3 bridle on him. Is No. 3 the one with the deep port? Yes, that's it," said she, touching it with her whip. "I'll just see what he's made of in the Row."
"Miss," said old Freeman, coming up close to her, and whispering, "better wait till t'see waät's made of oop in tan-ride at whoom--naästy brute, I'm thinkin' 't 'ill prove."