in a most sportsmanlike, workmanlike, businesslike manner; and long and
loud are the congratulations, great is the increased importance of each
man's physiognomy, and thereupon they all lug out their half-crowns for
Tom Hills.

In the meantime our "Swell" lays hold of his nag--who is sorely damaged
with the flints, and whose wind has been pretty well pumped out of
him by the hills--and proceeds to lead him back to Croydon, inwardly
promising himself for the future most studiously to avoid the renowned
county of Surrey, its woods, its barbers, its mountains, and its flints,
and to leave more daring spirits to overcome the difficulties it
presents; most religiously resolving, at the same time, to return as
speedily as possible to his dear Leicestershire, there to amble o'er
the turf, and fancy himself an "angel on horseback." The story of the
country mouse, who must needs see the town, occurs forcibly to his
recollection, and he exclaims aloud:

"me sylva, cavusque
Tutus ab insidiis tenui solabitur ervo."

On overhearing which, Mr. Jorrocks hurries back to his brother
subscribers, and informs them, very gravely, that the stranger is no
less a personage than "Prince Matuchevitz, the Russian ambassador and
minister plenipotentiary extraordinary," whereupon the whole field join
in wishing him safe back in Russia--or anywhere else--and wonder at his
incredible assurance in supposing that he could cope with THE SURREY
HUNT.