"How are your Southdowns looking, Jim?" says the Vicar. "Foot-rot, eh?"
"Well, yes, sir," says James, "they always will, you know, in these wet clays. But I prefer 'em to the Leicesters, for all that."
"How is scapegrace Hamlyn?" asked the Vicar.
"He is very well, sir. He and I have been out with the harriers to-day."
"Ah! taking you out with the harriers instead of minding his business; just like him. He'll be leading you astray, James, my boy. Young men like you and he, who have come to be their own masters so young, ought to be more careful than others. Besides, you see, both you and Hamlyn being 'squires, have got an example to set to the poorer folks."
"We are neither of us so rich as some of the farmers, sir."
"No; but you are both gentlemen born, you see, and, therefore, ought to be in some way models for those who are not."
"Bosh," said the Doctor. "All this about Hamlyn's going out hare-hunting."
"I don't mind it once a-week," said the Vicar, ignoring the Doctor's interruption; "but FOUR TIMES is rather too much. And Hamlyn has been out four days this week. Twice with Wrefords, and twice with Holes. He can't deny it."
Jim couldn't, so he laughed. "You must catch him, sir," he said, "and give him a real good wigging. He'll mind you. But catch him soon, sir, or you won't get the chance. Doctor, do you know anything about New South Wales?"