As he reined
in his horse, he gave his cap an aerial sweep, taking off perpendicularly,
and finishing at his horse's ears--an example that was immediately followed
by the whips, and also by Mr. Bragg's second horseman, Tom Stot.
'Good morning, Mister Bragg! Good morning, Mister Bragg!--Good morning,
Mister Bragg!' burst from the assembled spectators: for Mr. Bragg was one
of those people that one occasionally meets whom everybody 'Misters.'
Mister Bragg, rising in his stirrups with a gracious smile, passed a very
polite bow along the line.
'Here's a fine morning, Mr. Bragg,' observed Tom Washball, who thought it
knowing to talk to servants.
'Y_as_, sir,' replied Bragg, 'y_as_,' with a slight inclination to cap;
'_r-a-y_-ther more s_a_n, p'raps, than desirable,' continued he, raising
his face towards the heavens; 'but still by no means a bad day, sir--no,
sir--by no means a bad day, sir.'
'Hounds looking well,' observed Charley Slapp between the whiffs of a
cigar.
'Y_as_, sir,' said Bragg, 'y_as_,' looking around them with a
self-satisfied smile; adding, 'so they ought, sir--so they ought; if _I_
can't bring a pack out as they should be, don't know who can.
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