“That's all right,” said Coleman; “and here's my friend, Mr. Fairlegh, will want a nag too.”
“Proud to serve any gent as is a friend of yours, Mr. Coleman,” replied Snaffles, with a bob of his head towards me, intended as a bow. “What stamp of horse do you like, sir? Most of my cattle are out with the harriers to-day.”
“Snaffles—a word with you,” interrupted Cumberland.
“One moment, sir,” said Snaffles to me, as he crossed over to where Cumberland was standing.
“Come and look at Punch; and let's hear what you think of him,” said Coleman, drawing me towards the stable.
“What does Cumberland want with that man?” asked I.
“What, Snaffles? I fancy he owes a bill here, and I daresay it is something about that.”
“Oh, is that all?” rejoined I.
“Why, what did you think it was?” inquired Coleman.
“Never mind,” I replied; “let's look at Punch.”