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He then
extricated his large cutting whip from the confusion of whips with which
it was mixed, and clonk, clonk, clonked downstairs to the door.
'Multum in Parvo' stopped the doorway, across whose shoulder Leather passed
the following hints, in a low tone of voice, to Mr. Sponge, as the latter
stood drawing on his dogskin gloves, the observed, as he flattered himself,
of all observers.
'Mind now,' said Leather, 'this oss as a will of his own; though he seems
so quiet like, he's not always to be depended on; so be on the look-out for
squalls.'
Sponge, having had a glass of brandy, just mounted with the air of a man
thoroughly at home with his horse, and drawing the rein, with a slight feel
of the spur, passed on from the door to make way for the redoubtable
Hercules. Hercules was evidently not in a good humour. His ears were laid
back, and the rolling white eye showed mischief. Sponge saw all this, and
turned to see whether Thornton's clumsy, wash-ball seat, would be able to
control the fractious spirit of the horse.


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