"Laws, that's a buster," says Jim; "I mun go and help him, he gied me a bob;" showing by his words the triumph of filthy lucre over Christian charity. Not that he would not have been just as ready to pick up anyone without the shilling, but the gift had made a profound impression, and the thought that was uppermost found vent in words. By the time he reaches the spot Mr. Tyrol has picked himself up, and, catching his horse, is away; and Hodge returns to the rick to see the last he can of the receding chase. As he trudges homewards he hears various accounts of how "the hounds are been by," etc., and lighting his pipe he makes his way towards his own particular inn where he usually takes his glass. He is going along leisurely over the fields when he hears a loud voice behind him, and turning round, finds himself face to face with two men on horseback, one of whom is ordering him to "Open that gate there, do you hear?" Hodge knows in a moment that he is not a Bullshire man; and what is more, he recognises in an equally short space that he is not a gentleman for all his pink coat and fine feathers, and his native pride rebels; so he takes no notice, but turns round and continues his journey, and getting over the stile with a laugh, he mutters to himself: "'E's got some cheek an' all, d----n him; I shanna open gate unless 'e's a bit more civil." "Here, you fellah, do you hear--open this gate, will you?" shouts the angry _parvenu_ again, and then commences a course of good solid abuse. This is more than even Hodge can stand, so he slowly faces round again and says: "Jump o'er it or get off and open it yerself. I ain't paid ter go about t' country helping the likes o' you home." When he tells the story in the public-house, as tell it he will, after recounting all he saw of the chase and a bit more besides, he will say: "I knowed he wanna out of Bullshire. None of our gents are like that; sum City chap maybe, 'ain't larned manners;" and while spending the rest of the eighteen-pence he has earned out hunting he is as happy as a king, with whom he would not change places for the world, much preferring, so long as he can get occasionally a day off and plenty to eat and drink, to remain as simple--Hodge. THE KEEPER. One of the richest men in the county of Bullshire next to "the Dook" is a Mr. Betteridge, a retired partner of the well-known firm of Betteridge, Woolsey, and Co., of Manchester, who about five years back purchased the Medemere estate, which originally belonged to the Slowboy family. Of course he immediately improved (?) the fine old Elizabethan hall by adding thereto sundry wings and towers, and also converting the old-fashioned gardens, with their quaint yew-edges, into trim parterres and terraces, after what he was pleased to call "the Italian style."