"Oh, with Guardsman," said George.
"And your jocks?" put in another. "All the talent is engaged. A pity you are so heavy—why, you've grown immense. You will want a dray-horse to carry you soon."
"Think I have?" said George. "It's my coats, man. Every fellow looks large with a couple of top-coats on, and a huge-wrapper round his throat. I know all the talent is engaged. One of my lads will ride the gray."
"I say, Bradon," put in another, "I heard you weighed twelve stone five; is that a fact?"
"Yes," said George; "I put on sixteen pounds in less than two years—an idle life at home did for me."
"But, Bradon," persisted the sly-looking little man, "you say one of your lads is going to ride the gray. But Guardsman—who is to ride him?"
"Oh," said George, "who is to ride him?—why, I will tell you in one word, it's a fellow you all know pretty well—Myself."
Had a thunderbolt fallen amongst them they could not have been more astonished.
"What!" they one and all exclaimed, "you? Why you told us not an instant ago that you weighed twelve stone five."
"No, my friends, I did not. I said, in answer to a question, that I had weighed twelve stone five. I told you I had put sixteen pounds on, but I did not tell you I had not taken it off. I walk ten stone ten now—Banting, my boys, Banting. And, listen to me, I shall win if I can, and I have a good chance; but, win or lose, this is my last appearance in public. I've grown immense, have I not, old fellow?" addressing himself to the one who had made the remark. "I shall want a dray-horse soon, shall I not?"