course on a different part of the heath, which is accomplished by a few
ragged rascals, as rude and uncouth as the furniture they bear. In less
than half an hour the same group of anxious careworn countenances are
again turned upon each other at the betting-post, as though they had
never separated. But see! the noble owner of Trick, by Catton, is in the
crowd, and Jem Bland eyeing him like a hawk. "I say, Waggey," cries he
(singling out a friend stationed by his lordship), "had you ought on
Trick, by Catton?" "No, Jem," roars Wagstaff, shaking his head, "I knew
my man too well." "Why now, Waggey, do you know I wouldn't have done
such a thing for the world! no, not even to have been made a Markiss!"
a horse-laugh follows this denunciation, at which the newly created
marquis bites his livid lips.

[Footnote 18: No judge ever gave a race as won by half a head; but we let
the whole passage stand as originally written.--EDITOR.]

The Baron, who appears to have no taste for walking, still sticks to the
punch mare, which Mr. Jorrocks steers to the newly formed ring aided by
the Baron and the furze-bush. Here they come upon Sam Spring, whose boy
has just brought his spring-cart to bear upon the ring formed by the
horsemen, and thinking it a pity a nobleman of any county should be
reduced to the necessity of riding double, very politely offers to
take one into his carriage. Jorrocks accepts the offer, and forthwith
proceeds to make himself quite at home in it. The chorus again
commences, and Jorrocks interrogates Sam as to the names of the
brawlers. "Who be that?" said he, "offering to bet a thousand to a
hundred." Spring, after eyeing him through his spectacles, with a
grin and a look of suspicion replies, "Come now--come--let's have no
nonsense--you know as well as I." "Really," replies Mr. Jorrocks most
earnestly, "I don't." "Why, where have you lived all your life?"