The fact is, Mr. Sawyer was full of business. In the first place, it is needless to observe, he had been to have his hair cut—a rite2 seldom neglected by the true Englishman when entering upon a new phase in his career. Also he had to purchase many articles of wearing apparel, such as are only to be procured3 in the Metropolis4. Since his rejection5 by Miss Mexico (for previous to that casualty he had been rather a gaudy6 dresser than otherwise), our friend, although preserving an equestrian7 exterior8, had suffered his wardrobe to run considerably9 to seed. In truth, there was little temptation to extravagance on that score at The Grange. But now that he was about to take his place, as he observed, amongst the sporting aristocracy of Great Britain, it would be necessary to call in the aid of such artists as consider themselves the especial providers of boots, breeches, &c., for the first flight.
When I met him he was hurrying towards the well-known emporium of Messrs. Putty & Co., now universally acknowledged to be the only firm in London at which a truly workmanlike top-boot—combining, as their advertisement expresses it, “comfort to the wearer, with satisfaction to the looker-on”—is to be obtained. I could not resist my friend’s imploring10 request to accompany him into the shop, and favour him with my experience on a subject which cannot be mastered without considerable observation and reflection.
Like most people from the country, Mr. Sawyer feels somewhat shy in the presence of a fashionable London tradesman. When he entered the warehouse12, a languid gentleman, with one shoeless foot placed on a square of brown paper, was drawling out his directions to Messrs. Putty’s foreman, an exceedingly smart and voluble disciple13 of St. Crispin.
“Not too thick,” said the languid man, in a tone of utter physical exhaustion14. “Man can’t ride nicely, if he don’t feel his stirrup through his boot;” and Sawyer nudged my elbow with a delighted wink15, that seemed to say—“This swell16, too, is a votary17 of Diana!”
The languid man’s silk-stockinged foot having been re-shod, he rose with great difficulty, and moved feebly in the direction of his brougham, from the window of which he adjured18 the shopman, in a faint voice, to forward “the tops when finished to my address at Market Harborough,” and sank back amongst the cushions, completely overcome.
The talismanic19 syllables20 raised the curiosity of my friend. “Who is it?” he whispered eagerly to the returning shopman; and that worthy21, placing a chair and a fresh square of brown paper for his new customer, replied somewhat condescendingly—“That, sir? That’s the Honourable22 Crasher, sir; hunting gentleman, and very particular about his tops. What can I do for you, sir?”
I had now an opportunity of observing the great warmth and thickness of the worsted stockings in which my friend kept his legs encased; also the stout23 proportions of those useful limbs, more adapted perhaps for the Highland24 kilt, than any other costume. Mr. Putty’s foreman saw at a glance the difficulties he would have to contend with, and prepared to subdue25 them.
“Very muscular gentleman!” said he; passing his tape round my friend’s calf26. “Great pedestrian powers, I should say. Inconvenient27 in the saddle; but will endeavour to rectify28 that. Excuse me, sir: take the liberty of asking whereabouts you generally hunt.”
“Hunt?” repeated the customer. “Oh! Leicestershire—Northamptonshire—all about there—in the neighbourhood of Market Harborough.” Mr. Sawyer spoke29 in a vague general sort of way, as if he was in the habit of pervading30 the whole of the grazing districts.
A cloud gathered on the foreman’s brow.
“The Shires!” he rejoined, with a perplexed31 air; “that increases our difficulties very much indeed. I could have made you, now, a particular neat provincial32 boot; but with this pattern it’s exceedingly difficult to attain33 the correct appearance for flying countries. I’ll show you a pair here, sir, that the Honourable Crasher sent back this very morning, because they fell away the eighth-of-an-inch at the setting-on of the leg, and the Honourable’s girth is at least two-and-a-half less than yours. You wouldn’t like a pair of Napoleons, I presume? Very fashionable just now, sir. All the gentlemen wear them in the Vale of Aylesbury.”
I confess I rather expected an outburst at this suggestion: my friend sharing with me a strong prejudice against what have been termed “Butcher-boots;” but
“Prolonged endurance tames the bold,”
and Sawyer submitted with considerable patience to the foreman’s promise, that they would do all in their power to make him two pair of top-boots, only inferior to those of the Honourable Crasher, and send them down to him in a little over a fortnight; or, “not to disappoint him, say punctually that day three weeks.”
A thorough revisal of gloves, neckcloths, &c., is soon made; and after a hearty34 luncheon35 at the railway station, I put my friend into a first-class carriage attached to the fast train, and wished him “Good sport,” and “Good-bye,” with a feeling somewhat akin36 to envy, as I remained in smoky London, and he was whirled away into the soft fragrant37 country saturated38 with rain, and smiling itself to sleep in the calm grey light of a mild winter’s afternoon. He had but one fellow-passenger, of whom more anon.
I wonder whether the reflections of other men in a railway-carriage, bowling39 through the midland counties at the rate of forty miles an hour, on such a day as I have described, are like my own. I honestly confess that a very few ideas, if they are favourite ones, are sufficient to fill my brain. As I speed along the level embankments, which give one such a commanding view of the surrounding country, I cannot help imagining myself on the back of a good horse, sailing away from field to field after a pack of hounds. How well I can see my way!—how easy the fences look!—how readily I distinguish the place I should make him take off at, and the exact spot on which he would land, choosing unhesitatingly the soundest ridge40, on which I should increase my pace so confidently down to that glassy brook41, that looks as if you could hop11 over it from here, but which memory tells me is at least fifteen feet of water! How easy to get a start from that spinny, shaped liked a cocked-hat, of which the three corners have puzzled me so often, never hitting the one the hounds came out at, though I have tried them all in turn! How contemptible42 the size of this woodland, in which I have yet known a fox hang for hours together! What a run I have in imagination! and how well I see it! Alas43! like everything else coloured through that deceitful medium, how different from the “cold reality”!
Nevertheless, much as I sympathise in his bride’s consternation44, I cannot deny a fellow-feeling with that bridegroom of whom it is related that, on a wedding-trip of many hours by the side of his late-won treasure, during which he ceased not to scan the adjacent fences with a practical eye, he uttered never a word during the entire journey, save this one remarkable45 sentence, “There’s my place! Where would you have it?”
Some such ruminations as the above probably engrossed47 the whole of my friend’s intellects, till the courteous48 offer of Punch—containing, as usual, one of Leech’s inimitable hunting sketches—drew his attention to his fellow-traveller, under whose multiplicity of wrappers he had no difficulty in recognising the placid49 features of the gentleman he had that morning noticed in the boot-shop. It was, indeed, none other than the Honourable Crasher; by this time completely worn out, and who, to do him justice, was a gentlemanlike, well-featured fellow enough, if he had not always looked so dreadfully tired.
The reply to such a courtesy, where there were no ladies in the carriage, could only be, “Have you any objection to smoking?” And as nobody ever does object nowadays to that soothing50 practice, and the “forty-shilling penalty” is, I trust, simply a dead-letter and a fallacy, the Laranagas were produced, and a couple of them soon got very freely under way.
No introduction from a mutual52 friend is equal to that of a cigar. Any two votaries53 of the “pleasant vice,” at least during the time they are engaged in its practice, are sure to fraternise, and in five minutes Mr. Sawyer and the Honourable Crasher were hard at it, I need scarcely observe, on the subject of fox-hunting; the former resolving, as far as possible, to pick the brains of his new acquaintance (if he could find them) on that exhaustless topic; the latter positively54 warming into a languid enthusiasm on the only subject to which he could direct his whole attention for ten consecutive55 minutes.
Racing56 men are bad enough. Politicians are sufficiently57 long-winded. A couple of agriculturists will keep the ball rolling pretty perseveringly58 on the congenial themes of “cake,” mangold wurzel, short-horns, reaping-machines, and guano; but I have heard ladies, who are perhaps the best judges of volubility, affirm that, for energy, duration, and the faculty59 of saying the same thing over and over again, a dialogue between a couple of fox-hunters beats every other kind of discussion completely out of the field.
Mr. Sawyer took the initiative by pointing to the fox’s tusk60 which fastened the string in his new friend’s hat.
“Done anything this last week?” said he, with that mysterious air specially61 affected62 by all individuals who are connected, however remotely, with horseflesh, and which, I believe, has much to answer for, in the impression of consummate63 roguery which it conveys to the uninitiated. “It’s been good scenting64 weather in my part of the world. Hounds must have run hard on the grass.”
The Honourable Crasher emitted a large volume of smoke, ere he roused himself for the effort, and replied: “Good thing, last Friday, with the Pytchley, from Fox Hall. Do you know that country?” he added, thinking, if his listener did not, he might save himself the trouble of detailing it.
“I am on my way down to hunt there now,” rejoined our friend, “so I take an interest, naturally, in your sport. Last Friday, you say? Ah! that was the day we had such a fine run over our country. Two hours and forty-seven minutes, and killed our fox—and killed our fox,” he repeated, as if such a climax65 was sufficiently rare to merit more than common attention.
Nothing but the spirit of emulation66 between different packs could have embarked67 the Honourable Crasher on a long story; but he woke up from his lethargy at this juncture68, and observed,
“Two hours and forty-seven minutes? Indeed! It must have been a fine run; but slow, I conclude—slow. I never care much for anything over an hour. It’s labour and sorrow, walking after hounds, to my mind.”
“Slow!” retorted Mr. Sawyer indignantly. “Not at all; I was riding the best horse in my stable, and he had to do all he knew to live with them. Fine country, too—wild fox-hunting country—not a soul in the fields; very deep, and a good deal of fencing. I don’t know that I was ever better carried,” he added meditatively69, hoping to bring the conversation round to the merits of the grey.
But the Honourable Crasher had his story to tell too, and broke in with unusual vehemence70:
“Ours was about the quickest thing I ever rode to. Found in Faxton Corner; fox never hung a second, and the hounds ran him over those large grass-fields as if they were tied to him, all down by——Dear me, I forget the names of the places, and I never can describe a run; but if you don’t know the country, it don’t signify. In short, they ran him all about, you know, over a capital line, and turned him up in the open, at the end of seven-and-twenty minutes, without a check, and very straight, you know, and all that; satisfactory to everybody, and not at all bad fun, and so on.” The Honourable C. was rapidly collapsing71, running down like the last notes of a musical box. Ere he arrived at this very explicit72 conclusion, he had become perfectly73 torpid74 again.
Finding his neighbour would not listen to his story, Mr. Sawyer thought he might as well get what he could in the way of information, and began accordingly to propound75 a series of questions, only interrupted by the occasional apparition76, at the window, of a broad chest and ruddy bearded face belonging to the guard, who, seeing the gentlemen still smoking, vanished again incontinently. The examination proceeded much as follows, the catechumen, though waking up at intervals77, becoming more and more comatose78.
Mr. Sawyer: “It is very stiff, isn’t it, that Pytchley country? Large fences that won’t bear liberties being taken with them?”
The Honourable Crasher: “Yeas, I should say, it wanted a hunter to get over it.”
Mr. S.: “Do you consider it as difficult to cross as the Quorn?”
The Hon. C.: “Yeas—no—that’s to say, I ride the same horses in both; I don’t know that there’s much difference.”
“Whom do your consider your best men now, in your field?”
“Oh! there are lots of fellows who can ride, if they get a start. It’s impossible to say; there’s a good deal in luck, and a good deal in horses.” [N.B. This is hardly a sincere speech of the Hon. C.’s. He does not think either luck or horseflesh constitutes a customer, and has not the slightest doubt in his own mind as to whom he considers about the best performer in that or any other country; only modesty79 forbids him to name the individual.]
Mr. S., a little dissatisfied: “I suppose the Leicestershire men are splendidly mounted?”
Hon. C.: “No; I should say not. I never remember seeing so few good horses. I shouldn’t know where to get a hunter if I wanted one!”
Mr. Sawyer thought of the roan, and ran his eye over his friend’s slim figure and horsemanhorseman-like shape. “He’d carry him like a bird,” thought the owner, “and I shouldn’t mind letting him have him for two hundred, or say, if I dropped into a good thing with him, two hundred and fifty;” but he only observed, “I suppose you are very well mounted yourself?”
“So-so,” was the reply. “I’m rather short just now; only ten. Good useful brutes81 some of them; but I shouldn’t say my lot was quite first-class, by any means!”
Again Mr. Sawyer found subject for rumination46. Ten! Only ten! and not first-class ones neither, though it was probable that a man who had ten hunters in his stable would not find it worth while to keep a bad one; and then he thought of his own three, and the severe infliction82 it would be to have to ride Marathon over the fences, which, as he looked from the window, loomed83 larger and larger in the twilight84, as they approached the grazing districts. No secret, it has been said, is so close as that between a horse and his rider; and Mr. Sawyer hardly liked to confess, even to himself, the very inferior brute80 he had got in the bay. Somehow all the difficulties into which he had put him seemed to rise in his mind’s eye, like an accumulation of photographs, as he sat back amongst the cushions, and, withdrawing his gaze from the outward world, fixed85 it on the lately-lit lamp above his head.
He remembered, not without a shudder86, what a cropper the brute gave him at that stile in the potato-garden, which at least he might have scrambled87 over, if he had only risen six inches. He recalled the famous run he lost from the Forty-acres, because no persuasion88 would induce Marathon to face the bullfinch enclosing that meritorious89 fox-covert, and which a donkey could get through, if he would only look at it. He reflected how the animal perversely90
“Struck all his timber, fathomed91 all his ditches;”
how he had never cleared a brook with him, or gone a run to his master’s satisfaction; and how even old Isaac allowed his favourite “wur a better nag51 in the stable nor he wur in the field;” and so musing92, he shuddered93 to think of their joint94 endeavours to get out of a fifty-acre pasture, with an ox-fence all round it, and the gate locked!
To avoid such horrible visions, he would have plunged95 once more into conversation, but looking at his neighbour, observed he was now deep in “The Idylls of the King,”—an epic96 which served at least to keep the Honourable Crasher awake, thereby97 substantiating98 a theory I have heard broached99 by certain philosophers, and which I am not entirely100 prepared to dispute, viz. that there is something of poetry in every man who rides hard across a country.
Certainly not a Knight101 of the Table Round could have been more daring in the saddle than the Honourable Crasher, for all his dissipated looks and languid manners; nor could he have been so engrossed in the fate of “The Lily Maid of Astolat,” nor so lost in the description of the black barge102 floating dreamily down with its snowy burden (perhaps the most beautiful piece of word-painting in the language), had he not acknowledged in some corner of his much-neglected intellect that divin? particula aur?, which may often be found, like a sweet wayside flower, blooming in the most unexpected and uncultivated localities.
Though Mr. Sawyer was himself innocent of all such weaknesses, he had the grace not to interrupt his fellow-traveller, and consequently not a word more was spoken till they exchanged a courteous “Good-evening,” as they glided103 into the Market Harborough station, and the new arrival wondered in his own mind how it was possible for any one man to require such a quantity of clothing as must be contained in the numerous portmanteaus which the guard’s van produced, and which were claimed by the Honourable Crasher as his own.
“He can’t have been a week in town,” thought our honest friend, “for he was hunting here only last Friday, and he’s taken more clothes with him than I’ve got for my whole kit104 in the world!”
He had, however, his own affairs to attend to—himself and his modest luggage to stow away in a damp fly, with a broken-winded horse; his dinner to order at the principal hotel, where he meant to reside—at least, till he found out if he liked his quarters. For so old a traveller, he committed in this matter a somewhat unaccountable mistake. Dazzled by the magnificence of his manners, and the sumptuous105 verbal bill of fare which the waiter stated to be available, he left the details of his meal to that functionary—an oversight106 which produced a somewhat untoward107 result, inasmuch as that, after a visit to his stables, a minute inspection108 of his horses, and a long consultation109 with Isaac, concerning which of them he should ride on the morrow, interspersed110 with many complaints and prognostications of evil from the latter, when he returned to his apartment very hungry and in want of comfort, he found the following banquet prepared for his delectation: A slice of soft cod111, one raw mutton-chop relieved by an underdone ditto, two sorts of pickles112, and some exceedingly strong cheese.
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1
Oxford
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| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
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rite
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| n.典礼，惯例，习俗 | |
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procured
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| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 )；拉皮条 | |
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metropolis
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| n.首府；大城市 | |
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rejection
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| n.拒绝，被拒，抛弃，被弃 | |
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6
gaudy
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| adj.华而不实的；俗丽的 | |
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equestrian
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| adj.骑马的；n.马术 | |
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exterior
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| adj.外部的，外在的；表面的 | |
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9
considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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10
imploring
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| 恳求的，哀求的 | |
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hop
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| n.单脚跳，跳跃；vi.单脚跳，跳跃；着手做某事；vt.跳跃，跃过 | |
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12
warehouse
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| n.仓库；vt.存入仓库 | |
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disciple
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| n.信徒，门徒，追随者 | |
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exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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votary
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| n.崇拜者；爱好者；adj.誓约的，立誓任圣职的 | |
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adjured
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| v.（以起誓或诅咒等形式）命令要求( adjure的过去式和过去分词 )；祈求；恳求 | |
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talismanic
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| adj.护身符的，避邪的 | |
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syllables
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| n.音节( syllable的名词复数 ) | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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highland
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| n.(pl.)高地，山地 | |
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subdue
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| vt.制服，使顺从，征服；抑制，克制 | |
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calf
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| n.小牛，犊，幼仔，小牛皮 | |
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inconvenient
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| adj.不方便的，令人感到麻烦的 | |
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rectify
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| v.订正，矫正，改正 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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pervading
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| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的现在分词 ) | |
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perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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provincial
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| adj.省的，地方的；n．外省人，乡下人 | |
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attain
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| vt.达到，获得，完成 | |
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hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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akin
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| adj.同族的，类似的 | |
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fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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saturated
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| a.饱和的，充满的 | |
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bowling
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| n.保龄球运动 | |
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ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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contemptible
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| adj.可鄙的，可轻视的，卑劣的 | |
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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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rumination
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| n.反刍，沉思 | |
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engrossed
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| adj.全神贯注的 | |
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courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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nag
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| v.(对…)不停地唠叨；n.爱唠叨的人 | |
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mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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votaries
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| n.信徒( votary的名词复数 )；追随者；（天主教）修士；修女 | |
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positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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consecutive
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| adj.连续的，联贯的，始终一贯的 | |
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racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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perseveringly
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| 坚定地 | |
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faculty
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| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
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60
tusk
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| n.獠牙，长牙，象牙 | |
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61
specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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consummate
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| adj.完美的；v.成婚；使完美 [反]baffle | |
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scenting
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| vt.闻到（scent的现在分词形式） | |
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climax
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| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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emulation
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| n.竞争；仿效 | |
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67
embarked
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| 乘船( embark的过去式和过去分词 )； 装载； 从事 | |
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juncture
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| n.时刻，关键时刻，紧要关头 | |
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meditatively
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| adv.冥想地 | |
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vehemence
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| n.热切；激烈；愤怒 | |
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71
collapsing
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| 压扁[平]，毁坏，断裂 | |
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72
explicit
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| adj.详述的，明确的；坦率的；显然的 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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torpid
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| adj.麻痹的，麻木的，迟钝的 | |
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propound
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| v.提出 | |
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apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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comatose
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| adj.昏睡的，昏迷不醒的 | |
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modesty
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| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
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brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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brutes
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| 兽( brute的名词复数 )； 畜生； 残酷无情的人； 兽性 | |
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infliction
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| n.（强加于人身的）痛苦，刑罚 | |
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loomed
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| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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persuasion
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| n.劝说；说服；持有某种信仰的宗派 | |
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meritorious
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| adj.值得赞赏的 | |
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perversely
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| adv. 倔强地 | |
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fathomed
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| 理解…的真意( fathom的过去式和过去分词 )； 彻底了解； 弄清真相 | |
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musing
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| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
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shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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joint
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| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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epic
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| n.史诗，叙事诗；adj.史诗般的，壮丽的 | |
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thereby
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| adv.因此，从而 | |
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substantiating
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| v.用事实支持（某主张、说法等），证明，证实( substantiate的现在分词 ) | |
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broached
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| v.谈起( broach的过去式和过去分词 )；打开并开始用；用凿子扩大（或修光）；（在桶上）钻孔取液体 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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101
knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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102
barge
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| n.平底载货船，驳船 | |
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103
glided
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| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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104
kit
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| n.用具包，成套工具；随身携带物 | |
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sumptuous
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| adj.豪华的，奢侈的，华丽的 | |
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106
oversight
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| n.勘漏，失察，疏忽 | |
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107
untoward
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| adj.不利的，不幸的，困难重重的 | |
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108
inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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109
consultation
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| n.咨询；商量；商议；会议 | |
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110
interspersed
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| adj.[医]散开的；点缀的v.intersperse的过去式和过去分词 | |
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111
cod
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| n.鳕鱼；v.愚弄；哄骗 | |
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112
pickles
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| n.腌菜( pickle的名词复数 )；处于困境；遇到麻烦；菜酱 | |
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