This was generally an after-dinner performance, and required a skilful practitioner to accomplish, more particularly as the trick was rather notorious. Mr. Smoothley was now about to try his hand on Mr. Pringle. The bowing and congratulations over, and the flexible back straightened, he commenced by observing that, he supposed a copy of the rules of the hunt addressed to Pangburn Park, would find our friend.
“Yarse,” drawled Billy, wondering if there would be anything to pay. “Dash it, he wished there mightn’t? Shouldn’t be surprised if there was?”
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Mr. Smoothley, however, gave him little time for reflection, for taking hold of one of his own red-coat buttons, he observed, “that as he supposed Mr. Pringle would be sporting the hunt uniform, he might take the liberty of mentioning that Garnett the silversmith in the market-place had by far the neatest and best pattern’d buttons.”
“Oh, Garnett, oh, yarse,” replied Billy, thinking he would get a set for his pink, instead of the plain ones he was wearing.
“His shop is next the Lion and the Lamb public house,” continued Mr. Smoothley, “between it and Mrs. Russelton the milliner’s, and by the way that reminds me,” continued he, though we don’t exactly see how it could, “and by the way that reminds me that there is an excellent opportunity for distinguishing yourself by adopting the cover young Mr. Treadcroft has just abandoned.”
“The w-h-a-at?” drawled Billy, dreading a “do;” his mother having cautioned him always to be mindful after dinner.