Thus, if a man spoke, or placed himself where
Waffles thought he ought not to be (that is to say, anywhere but where
Waffles was himself), he would exclaim, 'Pray, sir, hold your tongue!--you,
sir!--no, sir, not you--the man that speaks as if he had a brush in his
throat!'--or, '_Do_ come away, sir!--you, sir!--the man in the
mushroom-looking hat!'--or, 'that gentleman in the parsimonious boots!'
looking at some one with very narrow tops.
[Illustration: MR. WAFFLES, THE PRESENT MASTER OF THE LAVERICK WELLS
HOUNDS]
Still, he was a rattling, good-natured, harum-scarum fellow; and
masterships of hounds, memberships of Parliament--all expensive
unmoney-making offices,--being things that most men are anxious to foist
upon their friends, Mr. Waffles' big talk and interference in the field
procured him the honour of the first refusal. Not that he was the man to
refuse, for he jumped at the offer, and, as he would be of age before the
season came round, and would have got all his money out of Chancery, he
disdained to talk about a subscription, and boldly took the hounds as his
own.
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