breeches and gaiters, and hob-nail shoes, that compose the equipment of
a shooter in Yorkshire. Mr. Jorrocks not keeping any "sporting dogs," as
the tax-papers call them, had borrowed a fat house-dog--a cross between
a setter and a Dalmatian--of his friend Mr. Evergreen the greengrocer,
which he had seen make a most undeniable point one morning in the
Copenhagen Fields at a flock of pigeons in a beetroot garden. This
valuable animal was now attached by a trash-cord through a ring in his
brass collar to a leg of the sideboard, while a clean licked dish at his
side, showed that Jorrocks had been trying to attach him to himself, by
feeding him before starting.

"We'll take a coach to the Castle", said Jorrocks, "and then get a
go-cart or a cast somehow or other to Streatham, for we shall have
walking enough when we get there. Browne is an excellent fellow, and
will make us range every acre of his estate over half a dozen times
before we give in". A coach was speedily summoned, into which Jorrocks,
the dog Pompey, the Yorkshireman, and the guns were speedily placed, and
away they drove to the "Elephant and Castle."

There were short stages about for every possible place except Streatham.
Greenwich, Deptford, Blackheath, Eltham, Bromley, Footscray, Beckenham,
Lewisham--all places but the right. However, there were abundance of
"go-carts," a species of vehicle that ply in the outskirts of the
metropolis, and which, like the watering-place "fly," take their name
from the contrary--in fact, a sort of _lucus a non lucendo_. They are
carts on springs, drawn by one horse (with curtains to protect the
company from the weather), the drivers of which, partly by cheating, and
partly by picking pockets, eke out a comfortable existence, and are
the most lawless set of rascals under the sun. Their arrival at
the "Elephant and Castle" was a signal for a general muster of the