“My dear, what silly things you say. I can see you don’t like my new purchase, and I do,” said the vicar, emphatically.
“Well, this appears to be a grand creature,” stroking the mane.
“I somehow fancied Grahame would choose well. He has a splendid head. Fine bone. Stands well. Splendid flank—got many good points, I notice—he’s not quite as sedate looking as our old pony.”
“Well, we shall see. I’ll take him for a ride.”
And as his master rode away, “He’s a real bad’un that little horse is,” said Hopkins. “A reg’lar bad’un. Bought at a grand Repository, and quiet and sound, warranty says—a real varmint,” says I.
Now as Lele was stepping along, would it not be as well to tell you something of him, children? To begin with, he had been sold several times, changed masters more than once for something worse than disobedience. He was up to all kinds of tricks, could buck, kick, jib, in fact he could perform all manner of naughty tricks—yes, do all except do as he was bid.
So he looked this way and that, snorted, gave a bit of a jerk, just to rouse his new master, and than sighed. “Well, it’s come to a nice thing now,” he grunted, “me—a well-set-up sprightly hunter, knocked down at a sale for thirty pounds! Sold to an old parson. Humph! I’ve seen lots of parsons in the hunting field, but never thought I’d like to live with one. Now I know I shan’t. Wish I hadn’t thrown Lord Jim. Bless me! Changed my walk in life entirely, and however I shall take to being a goody-goody horse I don’t know. Suppose I shall have to eat second-rate oats till I grow old and wheezy.”
A gentleman who was riding along the road stopped to speak to the vicar.
“Hallo!” said Lele to the stranger’s mare. “How do! Fine morning.”
“Very,” said the sedate little grey mare.
“Not much doing here. Slow sort of place I should say, eh?”
“I don’t know what you mean? Have you just come to this neighbourhood?”
“Came last night. Slow train. Block in the line. A miserable journey.”
“Do you think you will like the neighbourhood?”
“Oh! you rude creature, I shan’t talk to you any more! Where do you come from, and whatever is the vicar doing with you?”
“Hunt? My master doesn’t, but people he knows do. I’m sure your master doesn’t.”
Lele groaned. “Well, however I’m going to suit goodness knows. I shall die of yawning and rust out before a month is over.”