Jean Rougier (confidentially). “Nevare, sare—nevare.”
Sir Moses. “Ah, my friend, then you’ve a great pleasure to come to—a great pleasure to come to, indeed. Well, you’re a domd good feller, and I’ll tell you what I’ll do—I’ll tell you what I’ll do—I’ll mount you to-morrow—domd if I won’t—you shall ride my old horse, Cockatoo—carry you beautifully. What d’ye ride? Thirteen stun, I should say,” looking Jack over, “quite up to that—quite up to that—stun above it, for that matter. You’ll go streaming away like a bushel of beans.”
“Oh, sare, I tenk you, sare,” replied Jack, “but I have not got my hunting apparatus—my mosquet—my gun, my—no, not notin at all.”
“Gun!” exclaimed Sir Moses, amidst the laughter of the company. “Why, you wouldn’t shoot the fox, would ye?”
“Certainement” replied Jack. “I should pop him over.”
“Oh, the devil!” exclaimed Sir Moses, throwing up his hands in astonishment. “Why, man, we keep the hounds on purpose to hunt him.”
“Silly fellers,” replied Jack, “you should pepper his jacket.”
“Ah, Monsieur, I see you have a deal to learn,” rejoined Sir Moses, laughing. “However, it’s never too late to begin—never too late to begin, and you shall take your first lesson to-morrow. I’ll mount you on old Cockatoo, and you shall see how we manage these matters in England.”
“Oh, sare, I tenk you moch,” replied Jack, again excusing himself. “But I have not got no breeches, no boot-jacks—no notin, comme il faut.”
“I’ll lend you everything you want,—a boot-jack and all,” replied Sir Moses, now quite in the generous mood.