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 stout proportions of those useful limbs, more adapted perhaps for the Highland kilt, than any other costume. Mr. Putty’s foreman saw at a glance the difficulties he would have to contend with, and prepared to subdue them. “Very muscular gentleman!” said he; passing his tape round my friend’s calf. “Great pedestrian powers, I should say. Inconvenient in the saddle; but will endeavour to rectify 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 spoke in a vague general sort of way, as if he was in the habit of pervading the whole of the grazing districts. A cloud gathered on the foreman’s brow. “The Shires!” he rejoined, with a perplexed air; “that increases our difficulties very much indeed. I could have made you, now, a particular neat _provincial_ boot; but with this pattern it’s exceedingly difficult to attain 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 hearty luncheon 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 akin to envy, as I remained in smoky London, and he was whirled away into the soft fragrant country saturated 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.