'Don't wonder at it,' replied Jack, laughing his waistcoat strings off.
'The great Mr. Warde,' continued Mr. Puffington, 'who was justly partial to his own sort, had never any objection to breeding from the Beaufort Justice.'
'No, nor nobody else that knew what he was about,' replied Jack, turning away to conceal his laughter.
'We should be moving, I think, sir,' observed Bragg, anxious to put an end to the conversation; 'we should be moving, I think, sir,' repeated he, with a rap of his forefinger against his cap peak. 'It's past eleven,' added he, looking at his gold watch, and shutting it against his cheek.
'What do you draw first?' asked Jack.
'Draw—draw—draw,' replied Puffington. 'Oh, we'll draw Rabbitborough Gorse—that's a new cover I've inclosed on my pro-o-r-perty.'
'Sc-e-e-use me, sir,' replied Bragg, with a smile, and another rap of the cap: 'sc-e-e-use me, sir, but I'm going to Hollyburn Hanger first.'
'Ah, well, Hollyburn Hanger,' replied Puffington, complacently; 'either will do very well.'
If Puff had proposed Hollyburn Hanger, Bragg would have said Rabbitborough Gorse.
The move of the hounds caused a rush of gentlemen to their horses, and there was the usual scramblings up, and fidgetings, and funkings, and who-o-hayings and drawing of girths, and taking up of curbs, and lengthening and shortening of stirrups.