during this brief dispute, stepped into the porch, and turning abruptly
to Mr Willet, said,

'You keep strange servants, John.'

'Strange enough to look at, sir, certainly,' answered the host; 'but out
of doors; for horses, dogs, and the likes of that; there an't a better
man in England than is that Maypole Hugh yonder. He an't fit for
indoors,' added Mr Willet, with the confidential air of a man who felt
his own superior nature. 'I do that; but if that chap had only a little
imagination, sir--'

'He's an active fellow now, I dare swear,' said Mr Chester, in a musing
tone, which seemed to suggest that he would have said the same had there
been nobody to hear him.

'Active, sir!' retorted John, with quite an expression in his face;
'that chap! Hallo there! You, sir! Bring that horse here, and go and
hang my wig on the weathercock, to show this gentleman whether you're
one of the lively sort or not.'

Hugh made no answer, but throwing the bridle to his master, and
snatching his wig from his head, in a manner so unceremonious and hasty
that the action discomposed Mr Willet not a little, though performed at
his own special desire, climbed nimbly to the very summit of the maypole
before the house, and hanging the wig upon the weathercock, sent it
twirling round like a roasting jack. Having achieved this performance,
he cast it on the ground, and sliding down the pole with inconceivable
rapidity, alighted on his feet almost as soon as it had touched the
earth.

'There, sir,' said John, relapsing into his usual stolid state, 'you
won't see that at many houses, besides the Maypole, where there's good
accommodation for man and beast--nor that neither, though that with him
is nothing.'

This last remark bore reference to his vaulting on horseback, as upon Mr
Chester's first visit, and quickly disappearing by the stable gate.

'That with him is nothing,' repeated Mr Willet, brushing his wig with
his wrist, and inwardly resolving to distribute a small charge for dust
and damage to that article of dress, through the various items of his
guest's bill; 'he'll get out of a'most any winder in the house. There
never was such a chap for flinging himself about and never hurting his
bones. It's my opinion, sir, that it's pretty nearly allowing to his
not having any imagination; and that if imagination could be (which it
can't) knocked into him, he'd never be able to do it any more. But we
was a-talking, sir, about my son.'

'Tru