'
'Sugar his milk!' exclaimed Mr. Puffington, who was only a matter-of-fact
man; 'sugar his milk! I dare say he takes tea.'
'Well, then, sugar his tea,' replied Bragg, with a smile, adding, 'can
'commodate myself, sir, to circumstances, sir,' at the same time taking off
his cap and setting a chair for his master.
'Thank you, but I'm not going to stay,' replied Mr. Puffington; 'I only
came up to let you know who you had to expect, so that you might prepare,
you know--have all on the square, you know--best horses--best hounds--best
appearance in general, you know.'
'That I'll attend to,' replied Mr. Bragg, with a toss of the head--'that
_I'll_ attend to,' repeated he, with an emphasis on the _I'll_, as much as
to say, 'Don't you meddle with what doesn't concern you.'
Mr. Puffington would fain have rebuked him for his impertinence, as indeed
he often would fain have rebuked him; but Mr. Bragg had so overpowered him
with science, and impressed him with the necessity of keeping him--albeit
Mr. Puffington was sensible that he killed very few foxes--that, having put
up with him so long, he thought it would never do to risk a quarrel, which
might lose him the chance of getting rid of him and hounds altogether;
therefore, Mr.
Pages:
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499
500
501
502
503
504
505
506
507
508
509
510
511