"Why, how, Sir, can you, or any other gentleman, expect to see a great, fine, upstanding horse like that ere, but what has a some'ut?" But as I did, I requested to see another. For this one he asked but eighteen pounds. With my own eyes I could see that he stood above fifteen hands, was only just coming six, and was a strong, hardy animal, with a written warranty for soundness. All this being quite clear, I could not possibly account for the lowness of the price, otherwise than by feeling quite confident that there must be "a some'ut." While thus deliberating, "Mr. Graham," said the dealer, "will you mind what I says? You'll never be married--you never can make up your mind to nothun, I see." On my getting into the saddle, to try him along a few streets, Mr. Turner added this very disinterested advice-- "Now, don't you go and hammer a good horse like that ere over the hard stones. A parcel of little ragged, dirty-nosed boys, run athwart, and upsots a respectable individual." I did hammer him, wasn't "upsot," and bought Clodhopper. There were two accomplishments in which I think he was unrivalled--falling down without breaking his knees, and in running backwards. In performing the first feat, which, on an average, occurred twice in three weeks, he fell, without a moment's hesitation, directly on his head, and instantly took a somersault on his back; so that literally he never had time to break his knees, though he broke the saddle now and then. The second, he could perform at a frightful pace; and the more one whipped and spurred, the faster he would go, and never stop till he came in contact with something. One of these I suspect to have been the "some'ut"--unless, by-the-bye, it had been the whooping-cough, or something very like it. But Clodhopper's chief recommendation was, that whether in winter or in summer, with oats or without them, he was ever the same--stoical and indefatigable, so long as he was on the top of his legs. When eventually I had no further use for his services, I sold him for a leader to a coach proprietor, for seventeen pounds and a dozen of bad champagne; but I fear that the unfortunate wheeler in his rear must, by this time, have tumbled over him a lamentable number of times. There was another rather prominent character in my establishment. This was "Old Bob." The master whom he served was a neighbouring farmer, but I frequently obtained his services. His appearance was that of a veteran bull-dog, seamed with the traces of youthful strife, but in reality he was a pointer. Unfortunately, too, in his younger days, the stable-door had jambed his tail off within two inches of its origin, but still Bob flattered himself that it was a tail, for he affected to brush the flies away with it.