'
'Is her ladyship going?' asked Snaffle.
'Her ladyship drives,' replied Watchorn. 'And you. Snooks,' addressing a
bare-armed helper, 'tell Mr. Traces to turn her out a pony phaeton and
pair, with fresh rosettes and all complete, you know.'
'Yes sir,' said Snooks, with a touch of his forelock.
'And you'd better tell Mr. Leather to have a horse for his master,'
observed Watchorn to Snaffle, 'unless as how you wish to put him on one of
yours.'
'Not I,' exclaimed Snaffle; 'have enough to mount without him. D'ye know
how many'll be goin'?' asked he.
'No,' replied Watchorn, hurrying off; adding, as he went, 'oh, hang 'em,
just saddle 'em all, and let 'em scramble for 'em.'
The scene then changed. Instead of hissing helpers pursuing their vocations
in stable or saddle-room, they began bustling about with saddles on their
heads and bridles in their hands, the day of expected ease being changed
into one of unusual trouble. Mr. Leather declared, as he swept the clothes
over Multum-in-Parvo's tail, that it was the most unconscionable proceeding
he had ever witnessed; and muttered something about the quiet comforts he
had left at Mr.
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