horses, as I never received more than that sum when a buyer myself. He
accepted cheerfully, telling me that a shilling each was quite worth
taking, as he had a thousand horses through his hands in the course of
every twelve months, and that a thousand shillings meant L50 a year.

The best piece of horse-dealing I ever did, was the purchase of a six
months old colt for L26, winning L20 in prizes with him as a
two-year-old, working him regularly at three and four on the farm, and
selling him at five for eighty guineas to a large brewery firm. Eighty
guineas in those days was a big price for a cart horse, though, of
course, in modern times, owing to the war, much higher prices can be
obtained.

I remember another dealer, who, a notable figure in a white top hat
with a deep black band, and large coloured spectacles, was to be seen
at all the fairs and principal sales. He, too, had an ingratiating
manner, and would accost a young farmer with a hearty, "Good-morning,
Squire," or some such flattering introduction. A wise dealer always
knows how to keep up amicable relations with a possible seller or
buyer, and never descends to abuse, or the assumption of a personal
injury if he cannot persuade a seller to accept his price, as is the
case with some dealers with less _savoir faire_.

A successful cattle dealer I knew had similar tactics of fraternity,
always addressing his sellers as "Governor," with marked respect. But
the best instance of this diplomatic spirit occurred in the case of a
deal between an old Hampshire friend of mine and a well-known and
historic sheep dealer from the same county. My friend had lately
become the happy father of twins, the fact being widely known in the
neighbourhood, for he was a very prominent man. He had 100 sheep for
sale, and the dealer was inspecting them, in a pen near the house. As
the bargain proceeded, the front door opened, and a nurse-maid
appeared with the twins in their perambulator. The dealer noticed them
immediately, and was not slow to turn the incident to his advantage.
"There they be, there they be, the little darlings," he called out, "a
sovereign apiece nurse, a sovereign apiece." Diving into a capacious
pocket, he pulled out a handful of gold and silver, and selecting two
sovereigns he handed them to the nurse for the children. "After that,"
my friend said, "what could I do but sell him the sheep, though he got
them at two shillings a head less than I ought to have made."