Jack looked solemn; and diving both hands into his breeches' pockets, stuck out his legs extensively before him.
'Give me money,' said he pompously. They each handed him half a crown; and Jack added a third for himself. 'Mr. Pacey challenges Mr. Sponge's chestnut horse, and Mr. Sponge challenges Mr. Pacey's gold watch,' observed Jack sententiously.
'Come, old Slowman, go on!' exclaimed Guano, adding, 'have you got no further than that?'
'Hurry no man's cattle,' replied Jack tartly, adding, 'you may keep a donkey yourself some day.'
'Mr. Pacey challenges Mr. Sponge's chestnut horse,' repeated Jack. 'How old is the chestnut, Mr. Sponge?' added he, addressing himself to our friend.
'Upon my word I hardly know,' replied Sponge, 'he's past mark of mouth; but I think a hunter's age has very little to do with his worth.'
'Who-y, that depends,' rejoined Jack, blowing out his cheeks, and looking as pompous as possible—'that depends a good deal upon how he's been used in his youth.'
'He's about nine, I should say,' observed Sponge, pretending to have been calculating, though, in reality, he knew nothing whatever about the horse's age. 'Say nine, or rising ten, and never did a day's work till he was six.'
'Indeed!' said Jack, with an important bow, adding, 'being easy with them at the beginnin' puts on a deal to the end. Perfect hunter, I s'pose?'
'Why, you can judge of that yourself,' replied Sponge.