“No hunting to-day, Job,” answers the visitor, declining the refreshment3; “so I just toddled4 over to see how you’re getting on, and have a look round the stables; no harm in looking, you know.”
Mr. Sloper’s face assumes an expression of profound mystery. “I’m glad you come over to-day, sir,” he says, in a tone of confidential5 frankness, “of all days in the year. I’ve a ’orse here, as I should like to ast your opinion about—a gent like you as knows what a ’unter really is. And so you should, Mr. Sawyer, for there’s no man alive takes greater liberties with ’em when they can go and do it. And I’ve got one in that box, as I think, just is more than curious.”
“Would he carry me?” asks Mr. Sawyer, with well-affected indifference6, as if he had not come over expressly to find one that would. “Not that I want a horse, you know; but if I saw one I liked very much, and you didn’t price him too high, why I might be induced to buy against next season, perhaps.”
Job took his hands out of his coat-pockets, and spread them abroad, as it were to dry. The action denoted extreme purity and candour.
“No; I don’t think as he ought to carry you, sir,” was the unexpected reply. “Now, I ain’t a-going to tell you a lie, Mr. Sawyer. This horse didn’t ought to be ridden, not the way you take and ride them, Mr. Sawyer; leastways not over such a blind heart-breaking country as this here. He’s too good, he is, for that kind of work; he ought to be in Leicestershire, he ought; the Harborough country, that’s the country for him. He’s too fast for us, and that’s the truth. Only, to be sure, we have a vast of plough hereabout, and I never see such a sticker through dirt. It makes no odds7 to him, pasture or plough, and the sweetest hack8 ever I clapped eyes on besides. However, you shall judge for yourself, Mr. Sawyer. I won’t ask you to believe me. You’ve a quicker eye to a horse than I have, by a long chalk, and I’d sooner have your opinion than my own. I would now, and that’s the truth!”
Our purchaser began to think he might possibly have hit upon the animal at last. Often as he had been at the game, and often as he had been disappointed, he was still sanguine9 enough to believe he might draw the prize-ticket in the lottery10 at any time. As I imagine every man who pulls on his boots to go out hunting has a sort of vague hope that to-day may be his day of triumph with the hounds, so the oldest and wariest11 of us cannot go into a dealer12’s yard without a sort of half-conscious idea that there must be a trump13 card somewhere in the pack, and it may be our luck to hold it as well as another’s.
But Sloper, like the rest of his trade, was not going to show his game first. It seems to be a maxim14 with all salesmen to prove their customers with inferior articles before they come to the real thing. Mr. Sawyer had to walk through a four-stall stable, and inspect, preparatory to declining, a mealy bay cob, a lame15 grey, a broken-winded chestnut16, and an enormous brown animal, very tall, very narrow, very ugly, with extremely upright forelegs and shoulders to match. The latter his owner affirmed to be “an extraordinary shaped un” as no doubt he was. A little playful badinage17 on the merits of this last enlivened the visit.
“What will you take for the brown, Sloper, if I buy him at so much the foot?” said the customer, as they emerged into the fresh air.
“Say ten pound a foot, sir!” answered Job, with the utmost gravity, “and ten over, because he always has a foot to spare. Come now, Mr. Sawyer, I can afford to let a good customer like you have that horse for fefty. Fefty guineas, or even pounds, sir, to you. I got him in a bad debt, you see, sir;—it’s Bible truth I’m telling ye;—and he only stood me in forty-seven pounds ten, and a sov. I gave the man as brought him over. He’s not everybody’s horse, Mr. Sawyer, that isn’t; but I think he’ll carry you remarkably18 well.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever give him a chance,” was the rejoinder. “Come, Job, we’re burning daylight; let’s go and have a look at the crack.”
One individual had been listening to the above conversation with thrilling interest. This was no less a personage than Barney, Mr. Sloper’s head groom19, general factotum20, and rough-rider in ordinary—an official whose business it was to ride anything at anything, for anybody who asked him. He was a little old man, with one eye, a red handkerchief, and the general appearance of a post-boy on half-pay; a sober fellow, too, and as brave as King Richard; yet had he expressed himself strongly about this said brown horse, the previous evening, to the maid-of-all-work. “He’s the wussest we’ve had yet,” was his fiat21. “It’s nateral for ’em to fall; but when he falls, he’s all over a chap till he’s crumpled22 him.” So his heroic heart beat more freely when they adjourned23 to the neighbouring box.
The Roan.
Mr. Sloper threw the door open with an air. It must be confessed he seldom had one that would bear, without preparation, a minute inspection24 from the eye of a sportsman; but he knew this was a sound one, and made the most of it. Clothed and hooded25, littered to the hocks, and sheeted to the tail, there was yet something about his general appearance that fascinated Mr. Sawyer at once. Job saw the spell was working, and abstained26 from disturbing it. As far as could be seen, the animal was a long, low, well-bred-looking roan, with short flat legs, large clean hocks, and swelling27 muscular thighs28. His supple29 skin threw off a bloom, as if he was in first-rate condition; and when, laying his ears back and biting the manger, he lifted a foreleg, as it were, to expostulate with his visitors, the hoof30 was round, open, and well-developed, as blue, and to all appearance as hard as a flint.
“Has he fashion enough, think ye, sir?” asked Job, at length, breaking the silence. “Strip him, Barney,” he added, taking the straw from his mouth.
The roan winced31, and stamped, and whisked his tail, and set his back up during the process; but when it was concluded, Mr. Sawyer could not but confess to himself, that if he was only as good as he looked, he would do.
“Feel his legs, Mr. Sawyer!” observed the dealer, turning away to conceal32 the triumph that would ooze33 out. “There’s some legs—there’s some hocks and thighs! Talk of loins, and look where his tail’s set on. Carries his own head, too; and if you could see his manners! I never saw such manners in the hunting-field. Six-year-old—not a speck34 or blemish35; bold as a bull, and gentle as a lady; he can go as fast as you can clap your hands, and stay till the middle of the week after next—jump a town, too, and never turn his head from the place you put him at. As handy as a fiddle36, as neat as a pink, and worth all the money to carry in your eye when you go out to buy hunters. But what’s the use of talking about it to a judge like you? Lay your leg over him—only just lay your leg over him, Mr. Sawyer. I don’t want you to buy him! but get on him and feel his action, just as a favour to me.”
Our friend had made up his mind he would do so from the first. There was no mistaking the appearance of the animal; so good was it, that he had but two misgivings—some rank unsoundness, to account for its being there, or so high a price as to be beyond his means; for Mr. Sawyer was too fond of the sport to give a sum that he could not replace for so perishable37 an article as a hunter.
He was no mean equestrian38, our friend, and quite at home on a strange horse. As he drew the curb-rein gently through his fingers, the roan dropped his long lean head, and champed the bit playfully, tossing a speck of froth back on his rider’s boots.
“You’ve got a mouth, at any rate,” quoth Mr. Sawyer, and trotted39 him gently down the hard road, the animal stepping freely and gaily40 under him, full of life and spirits. The customer liked his mount, and couldn’t help showing it. “May I lark41 him?” said he, pulling up after a short canter to and fro on the turf by the wayside; during which Job Sloper had been exercising his mental arithmetic in what we may term a sum of problematical addition.
“Take him into the close, sir,” was the generous reply; “put him at anything you like. If you can get him into one of these fences, I’ll give him to you!”
So Mr. Sawyer sat down to jump a low hedge and ditch, then stood up, and caught hold of the roan’s head, and sent him a cracker42 through the adjoining plough, and across a larger fence into a pasture, and back again over a fair flight of rails and lost his flat shooting-hat, and rucked his plaid trousers up to his knees; and Sloper marked his kindling43 eye and glowing cheek, and knew that he had landed him.
“Walk him about for ten minutes before you do him over,” said that worthy44 to Barney, as Mr. Sawyer dismounted, and the latter brought him his hat. “And now, sir,” added the hospitable45 dealer, “you can’t go away without tasting my cheese—the same you liked last time, you know. Walk in, sir; this way, and mind the step, if you please.” So speaking, Mr. Sloper ushered46 his guest into a neat little parlour with a strong odour of preserved tobacco-smoke, where a clean cloth set off a nice luncheon47 of bread and cheese, flanked by a foaming48 jug49 of strong ale and a decanter of oily-brown sherry.
And herein the dealer showed his knowledge of human nature, and his discrimination in the different characteristics of the species. Had his guest been some generous scion50 of the aristocracy, with more money than nerves, he would have primed him first, and put him up to ride afterwards. But he knew his man. He was well aware that Mr. Sawyer required no stimulant51 to make him jump, but a strong one to induce him to part with his money; so he proposed the luncheon after he was satisfied that his customer was pleased with his mount.
Neither of them touched on business during the meal, the conversation consisting chiefly of the runs that had lately taken place in the Old Country, with many an inferred compliment to the good riding of the possible purchaser.
Then Mr. Sawyer produced the Laranagas and offered one to Job, who bit it, and wet it, and smoked it, as men do who are more used to clay pipes, and then they went back to the stable to see the roan done up.
The gallop52 and the ale were working in Mr. Sawyer’s brain, but he didn’t see his way into the roan at a hundred; so he obstinately53 held his tongue. The dealer was obliged to break the ice.
“I’d take it very friendly of you, sir, if you’d give me your honest opinion of that horse,” said he, waving the Laranaga towards the animal. “I fancy he’s too good for our country; and I’ve a brother-in-law down in Rutland as wants to have him very bad. He’s just the cut, so he says, for these Melton gents; and he’s a good judge, is my brother-in-law, and a pretty rider to boot. He’d give me my price, too; but then, you know, sir, askin’ your pardon, it isn’t always ready money between relations; and that cuts the other way again, as a man may say. What do you think, Mr. Sawyer?”
“I’ll find out what he wants for him, at any rate,” thought the customer. “What’s his figure?” was the abrupt54 rejoinder.
Mr. Sloper hesitated. “A hundred and—” eighty, he was going to say; but seeing his customer’s eye resting on the roan’s back-ribs—a point in which the horse was somewhat deficient—he dropped at once to seventy, and regretted it the next moment when he caught the expression of the listener’s face.
“It isn’t even money,” answered Mr. Sawyer, without, however, making the same sort of face he had done several times before, when he had refused to give double the sum at which he had eventually purchased. “I should say you might get a hundred and twenty for him down there, if you’d luck. But it’s a great risk—a great risk—and a long distance; and perhaps have him sent back to you in the spring. If I wanted a horse, I’d give you a hundred for him, though he isn’t exactly my sort. A hundred!—I’ll tell you what, Sloper, I’ll be hanged if I won’t chance it—I’ll give you a hundred—guineas—come! Money down, and no questions asked.”
“I can warrant him sound,” answered Mr. Sloper; “and I’d rather you had him than anybody. But it’s childish talking of a hundred guineas and that horse on the same afternoon. However, I thank you kindly55 all the same, Mr. Sawyer. Barney! shut the box up. Come in, sir, and have one glass of sherry before you start. The evenings get chill at this time of year, and that’s old sherry, and won’t hurt you no more than milk. He is a nice horse, Mr. Sawyer, I think—a very nice horse, and I’m glad you’re pleased with him.”
So they returned into the little parlour, and stirred up the fire, and finished the bottle of old sherry: nor is it necessary to remark that, with the concluding glass of that generous fluid the roan became the property of John Standish Sawyer, under the following somewhat complicated agreement:—That he was to give an immediate56 cheque for a hundred and forty pounds, and ten pounds more at the end of the season; which latter donation was to be increased to twenty if he should sell him for anything over two hundred—a contingency57 which the dealer was pleased to observe amounted to what he called “a moral.”
The new owner went to look at him once more in the stable, and thought him the nicest horse he ever saw in his life. The walk home, too, was delightful58, till the sherry had evaporated, when it became rather tedious; and at dinner-time Mr. Sawyer was naturally less hungry than thirsty. All the evening, however, he congratulated himself on having done a good day’s work. All night, too, he dreamed of the roan; and on waking resolved to call him “Hotspur.”
When the horse came home next day, he certainly looked rather smaller than his new owner had fancied. Old Isaac too, growled59 out his untoward60 opinion that he “looked a sort as would work very light.” But then Isaac always grumbled—it was the old groom’s way of enjoying himself.
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1
scenting
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| vt.闻到（scent的现在分词形式） | |
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2
accosts
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| v.走过去跟…讲话( accost的第三人称单数 )；跟…搭讪；（乞丐等）上前向…乞讨；（妓女等）勾搭 | |
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3
refreshment
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| n.恢复，精神爽快，提神之事物；（复数）refreshments:点心，茶点 | |
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4
toddled
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| v.（幼儿等）东倒西歪地走( toddle的过去式和过去分词 )；蹒跚行走；溜达；散步 | |
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confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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8
hack
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| n.劈，砍，出租马车；v.劈，砍，干咳 | |
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9
sanguine
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| adj.充满希望的，乐观的，血红色的 | |
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10
lottery
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| n.抽彩；碰运气的事，难于算计的事 | |
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11
wariest
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| 谨慎的，小心翼翼的( wary的最高级 ) | |
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12
dealer
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| n.商人，贩子 | |
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13
trump
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| n.王牌，法宝；v.打出王牌，吹喇叭 | |
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14
maxim
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| n.格言，箴言 | |
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lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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16
chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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badinage
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| n.开玩笑，打趣 | |
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remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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groom
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| vt.给（马、狗等）梳毛，照料，使...整洁 | |
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factotum
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| n.杂役；听差 | |
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21
fiat
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| n.命令，法令，批准；vt.批准，颁布 | |
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22
crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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23
adjourned
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| （使）休会， （使）休庭( adjourn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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24
inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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hooded
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| adj.戴头巾的；有罩盖的；颈部因肋骨运动而膨胀的 | |
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26
abstained
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| v.戒（尤指酒），戒除( abstain的过去式和过去分词 )；弃权（不投票） | |
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27
swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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28
thighs
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| n.股，大腿( thigh的名词复数 )；食用的鸡（等的）腿 | |
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supple
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| adj.柔软的，易弯的，逢迎的，顺从的，灵活的；vt.使柔软，使柔顺，使顺从；vi.变柔软，变柔顺 | |
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30
hoof
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| n.(马，牛等的)蹄 | |
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31
winced
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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33
ooze
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| n.软泥，渗出物；vi.渗出，泄漏；vt.慢慢渗出，流露 | |
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34
speck
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| n.微粒，小污点，小斑点 | |
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35
blemish
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| v.损害；玷污；瑕疵，缺点 | |
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36
fiddle
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| n.小提琴；vi.拉提琴；不停拨弄，乱动 | |
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perishable
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| adj.（尤指食物）易腐的，易坏的 | |
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38
equestrian
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| adj.骑马的；n.马术 | |
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39
trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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40
gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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41
lark
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| n.云雀，百灵鸟；n.嬉戏，玩笑；vi.嬉戏 | |
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42
cracker
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| n.（无甜味的）薄脆饼干 | |
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43
kindling
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| n. 点火, 可燃物 动词kindle的现在分词形式 | |
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44
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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45
hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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46
ushered
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| v.引，领，陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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47
luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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48
foaming
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| adj.布满泡沫的；发泡 | |
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49
jug
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| n.(有柄，小口，可盛水等的)大壶，罐，盂 | |
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50
scion
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| n.嫩芽，子孙 | |
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51
stimulant
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| n.刺激物，兴奋剂 | |
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52
gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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53
obstinately
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| ad.固执地，顽固地 | |
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54
abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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55
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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56
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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57
contingency
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| n.意外事件，可能性 | |
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58
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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59
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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60
untoward
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| adj.不利的，不幸的，困难重重的 | |
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