“Neatest fencer of the lot,” answered the man, “and they can all go middling straight for that matter; but the Prince, he pounded of ’em all that heavy day last week in the Vale; and Beller Donner, she was the only one as got over the Bumperley Brook, down by Heel Tappington, last Thursday was a fortnight. Ah! we beat ’em all that day, we did. If it hadn’t been for a man hoeing turnips, we have had to take the fox from the hounds ourselves. We did go owdacious, to be sure! ‘The Beller,’ as I calls her, had had pretty nigh enough, I can tell you, sir. But when we _do_ get a start, of a fine scenting morning, I’ll tell you what it is, sir—we takes no denial, and we stands for no repairs!” Amused with the manner in which my new friend seemed to identify himself with his proprietor, I proceeded to question him further about the horses, eliciting from him their various qualifications and merits, to which he was obviously willing to do ample justice. “You see, sir,” said he, “we rides ’em all alike; that’s where it is. We doesn’t go picking a horse for this here country, and a horse for that there; but we brings ’em out each in their turn, as regular as clockwork. Wery particular, we are; and when they are out, go they must, or we’ll know the reason why. We haven’t had Prince Charming, now, so long as the others; and the first day we rode him he seemed unaccountably shifty at large places; uneasy like, and prevaricating, and wanting to go anywhere but where we put him. Now some folks would have said, ‘This horse won’t suit at no price,’ and been _dashed_ a little, as was natural, and so perhaps sent him back again and lost of him altogether. But that’s not our way, that isn’t. We just laid him alongside of the hounds as soon as ever they began to run, sat down upon him, catched a good hold of his head, and _sailed_ him at his places so as he might go in or over, which he pleased; but he _must_ do one or the t’other. The Prince seemed to take it all at once like. When we gets off him, we just gives a quiet little smile—we _never_ laughs; and, says we, ‘I know’d he could gallop and go on, and now I’ve found out he can jump. I think we’ll keep him, John,’ says we,—My name’s John, sir,” (with a touch of his hat,)—“‘so put him in along with the others;’ and up we goes to a cup-o’ tea, and a book till bed-time.” “That’s the way to make a hunter!” I exclaimed enthusiastically; for I confess I felt my blood stir at John’s description; “and to ride in that form, no doubt you require the very best, such as you seem to have got here.”