That's a brace and a 'alf they've killed.'
'Brace and a ha-r-r-f!' drawls Slapp, in well-feigned disgust; 'brace and a
ha-r-r-f!--why, it makes them ten brace, and six run to ground.'
'Oh, don't tell _me_,' retorts Frosty, with a shake of disgust; 'don't tell
me. I knows better--I knows better. They'd only killed a brace since they
began hunting up to yesterday. The rest were all cubs, poor things!--all
cubs, poor things! Mr. Puffington's hounds are not the sort of animals to
kill foxes: nasty, skirtin', flashy, jealous divils; always starin' about
for holloas and assistance. I'll be d----d if I'd give eighteenpence for
the 'ole lot on 'em.'
A loud guffaw from the Flat Hat men greeted this wholesale condemnation.
The Puffington men looked unutterable things, and there is no saying what
disagreeable comparisons might have been instituted (for the
Puffingtonians mustered strong) had not his lordship and Jack cast up at
the moment. Hats off and politeness was then the order of the day.
'Mornin',' said his lordship, with a snatch of his hat in return, as he
pulled up and stared into the cloud-enveloped crowd; 'Mornin', Fyle;
mornin', Fossick,' he continued, as he distinguished those worthies, as
much by their hats as anything else.
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