Anecdote and History of Mother Goose.

~157~~
The ride to Bagley Wood introduced me to some new features of a college
life, not the least entertaining of which was the dialogue before
starting between my friend Eglantine, the livery-stable keeper, and his
man, where we went to engage the horses.

Eglan. (to the ostler) Well, Dick, what sort of a stud, hey? any thing
rum, a ginger or a miller, three legs or five, got by Whirlwind out of
Skyscraper? Come, fig out two lively ones.

Dick. I mun see measter first, zur, before I lets any gentleman take a
nag out o' yard. It's more as my place is worth to act otherwise.

Eglan. What coming Tip-street over us, hey, Dick? ~158~~ _frisking
the freshman_ here, old fellow? (pointing to me). It won't do--no go,
Dick--he's my friend, a _cawker_ to be sure, but must not _stand Sam_ to
an _Oxford raff_, or a Yorkshire _Johnny Raw_.

Dick. I axes pardon, zur. I didna mean any such thing, but ever since
you rode the grey tit last, she's never been out o' stall.

Eglan. Not surprised at that, Dick. Never crossed a greater slug in my
life--She's only fit to carry a dean or a bishop--No go in her.

Dick. No, zur, measter zays as how you took it all out on her.

Eglan. Why, I did give her a winder, Dick, to be sure, only one day's
hunting, though, a good hard run over Somerset range, not above sixty
miles out and home.

Dick. Ay, I thought as how you'd been in some break-neck tumble-down
country, zur, for Tit's knuckels showed she'd had a somerset or two.

Eglan. Well, blister the mare, Dick! there's _half a bull_ for your
trouble: now put us on the right scent for a good one: any thing young
and fresh, sprightly and shewy?

Dick. Why, there be such a one to be zure, zur, but you munna split on
me, or I shall get the zack for telling on ye. If you'll sken yon stable
at end o' the yard, there be two prime tits just com'd in from Abingdon
fair, thorough-bred and devils to go, but measter won't let 'em out.

Eglan. Won't he? here he comes, and we'll try what a little persuasion
will do. (Enter Livery Man.) Well, old fellow, I've brought you a new
friend, Blackmantle of Brazennose: what sort of _praxis_ can you give us
for a trot to Bagley Wood, a short ride for something shewy to _lionise_
a bit?

Livery M. Nothing new, sir, and you know all the stud pretty well
(knowingly). Suppose you try the grey mare you rode t'other day, and
I'll find a quiet one for your friend.

~159~~