‘Hang the brute!’ exclaimed Mr Waffles, in disgust; ‘I’ve a good mind to have his throat cut.’

‘Nay,’ replied Mr Buckram, brightening up, and stirring the silver round and round in his pocket like a whirlpool, ‘nay,’ replied he, ‘he’s fit for summat better nor that.’

‘Not much, I think,’ replied Mr Waffles, pouting with disgust. He now stood silent for a few seconds.

‘Well, but what did they mean by hoping Mr Sponge was fond of walking?’ at length asked he.

‘Oh, vy,’ replied Mr Buckram, gathering all the money up again, ‘I believe it was this ’ere,’ beginning to drop them to half-minute time, and talking very slowly; ‘the oss, I believe, got the better of Lord Bullfrog one day, somewhere a little on this side of Thrussinton -- that, you know, is where Sir ’Arry built his kennels -- between Mount Sorrel and Melton in fact -- and havin’ got his Lordship off, who, I should tell you, is an uncommon fat ’un, he wouldn’t let him on again, and he ’ad to lead him the matter of I don’t know ’ow many miles;’ Mr Buckram letting go the whole balance of silver in a rush, as if to denote that it was no joke.

‘The brute!’ observed Mr Waffles, in disgust, adding, ‘Well, as you seem to have a pretty good opinion of him, suppose you buy him; I’ll let you have him cheap.’

‘’Ord bless you, my lord -- that’s to say, sir!’ exclaimed Buckram, shrugging up his shoulders, and raising his eyebrows as high as they would go, ‘he’d be of no use to me, none votsomever -- shouldn’t know wot to do with him -- never do for ’arness -- besides, I ’ave a werry good machiner as it is -- at least, he sarves my turn, and that’s everything, you know. No, sir, no,’ continued he, slowly and thoughtfully, dropping the silver to half-minute time; ‘no, sir, no; if I might make free with a gen’leman o’ your helegance,’ continued he, after a pause, ‘I’d say, sell ’m to a post-master or a bus-master, or some sich cattle as those, but I doesn’t think I’d put ’im into the ’ands of no gen’leman, that’s to say if I were you, at least,’ added he.

‘Well, then, will you speculate on him yourself for the bus-masters?’ asked Mr Waffles, tired alike of the colloquy and the quadruped.

‘Oh, vy, as to that,’ replied Mr Buckram, with an air of the most perfect indifference, ‘vy, as to that -- not bein’ nouther a post-master nor a bus-master -- but ’aving, as I said before, a little hindependence o’ my own, vy, I couldn’t in course give such a bountiful price as if I could turn ’im to account at once; but if it would be any ’commodation to you,’ added he, working the silver up into full cry, ‘I wouldn’t mind givin’ you the with (worth) of ’im -- say, deductin’ expenses hup to town, and standin’ at livery afore I finds a customer -- expenses hup to town,’ continued Mr Buckram, muttering to himself in apparent calculation, ‘standin’ at livery -- three-and-sixpence a night, grum, and so on -- I wouldn’t mind,’ continued he briskly, ‘givin’ of you twenty pund for ’im -- if you’d throw me back a sov.,’ continued he, seeing Mr Waffles’ brow didn’t contract into the frown he expected at having such a sum offered for his three hundred-guinea horse.

In the course of an hour, that wonderful invention of modern times -- the Electric Telegraph -- conveyed the satisfactory words ‘All right’ to our friend Mr Sponge, just as he was sitting down to dinner in a certain sumptuously sanded coffee-room in Conduit Street, who forthwith sealed and posted the following ready- written letter:

Bantam Hotel, Bond Street

SIR -- I have been greatly surprised and hurt to hear that you have thought fit to impeach my integrity, and insinuate that I had taken you in with the brown horse. Such insinuations touch one in a tender point -- one’s self-respect. The bargain, I may remind you, was of your own seeking, and I told you at the time I knew nothing of the horse, having only ridden him once, and I also told you where I got him. To show how unjust and unworthy your insinuations have been, I have now to inform you that, having