presently the flapping of the doors in the passage announced his
approach, and honest Jorrocks came rolling up the room--not like a
fox-hunter, or any other sort of hunter, but like an honest wholesale
grocer, fresh from the city.

"My dear fellow, I'm so glad to see you, you can't think," said he,
advancing with both hands out, and hugging the Yorkshireman after the
manner of a Polar bear. "I have not time to stay one moment; I have to
meet Mr. Wiggins at the corner of Bloomsbury Square at a quarter to six,
and it wants now only seven minutes to," casting his eye up at the clock
over the sideboard.--"I have just called to say that as you are fond of
hunting, and all that sort of thing, if you have a mind for a day with
the staghounds to-morrow, I will mount you same as before, and all that
sort of thing--you understand, eh?" "Thank you, my good friend," said
the Yorkshireman; "I have nothing to do to-morrow, and am your man for
a stag-hunt." "That's right, my good fellow," said Jorrocks, "then I'll
tell you what do--come and breakfast with me in Great Coram Street, at
half-past seven to a minute. I've got one of the first 'ams (hams) you
ever clapt eyes on in the whole course of your memorable existence.--Saw
the hog alive myself--sixteen score within a pound; must come--know you
like a fork breakfast--dejeune à la fauchette, as we say in France, eh?
Like my Lord Mayor's fool I guess, love what's good; well, all right
too--so come without any ceremony--us fox-hunters hates ceremony--where
there's ceremony there's no friendship.--Stay--I had almost forgotten,"
added he, checking himself as he was on the point of departure. "When
you come, ring the area bell, and then Mrs. J---- won't hear; know you
don't like Mrs. J---- no more than myself."

At the appointed hour the Yorkshireman reached Great Coram Street, just
as Old Jorrocks had opened the door to look down the street for him.