otested, 'he carried me admirably--admirably!' and I
made an attempt to slip off.

No such thing: Brutus instantly jogged my memory, and me, by the
slightest suggestion of a 'buck.'

'He's a grand 'orse, sir, isn't he?' said the job-master complacently.

'M--magnificent!' I agreed, with a jerk. 'Will you go to his head,
please?'

But the horse backed into the centre of the yard, where he plunged with
a quiet obstinacy. 'I like him so much,' I called out, as I clung to the
saddle, 'that I want to know if you're at all inclined to part with
him?' Here Brutus became calm and attentive.

'Would you be inclined to make me a orfer for him, sir?'

'Yes,' I said faintly. 'About how much would he be?'

'You step into my orfice here, sir,' said he, 'and we'll talk it over.'

I should have been only too willing, for there was no room there for the
horse, but the suspicious animal would not hear of it: he began to
revolve immediately.

'Let us settle it now--here,' I said, 'I can't wait.'

The job-master stroked away a grin. No doubt there _was_ something
unbusinesslike and unpractical in such precipitation, especially as
combined with my appearance at the time.

'Well, you _'ave_ took a voilent fancy to the 'orse and no mistake,
sir,' he remarked.

'I never crossed a handsomer creature,' I said; which was hardly a
prudent remark for an intending purchaser, but then, there was the
animal himself to be conciliated.

'I don't know, really, as I can do without him just at this time of
year,' said the man. 'I'm under-'orsed as it is for the work I've got to
do.'

A sweet relief stole over me: I had done all that could be expected of
me. 'I'm very sorry to hear that,' I said, preparing to dismount. 'That
_is_ a disappointment; but if you can't there's an end of it.'

'Don't you be afraid,' said Brutus, '_he'll_ sell me readily enough:
make him an offer, quick!'

'I'll give you thirty guineas for him, come!' I said, knowing well
enough that he would not take twice the money.

'I thought a gentleman like you would have had more insight into the
value of a 'orse,' he said: 'why, his action alone is worth that, sir.'

'You couldn't let me have the action without the horse, I suppose?' I
said, and I must have intended some joke.

It is unnecessary to prolong a painful scene. Brutus ran me up steadily
from sum to sum, until his owner said at last: 'Well, we won't 'aggle,
sir, call it a hundred.'

I had to call it a h