_Ang._ (_eagerly_). But I _don't_. I remember now, you sat perfectly still the whole time, he--he said he could do nothing with you, don't you recollect? (_Aside._) Oh, what stories I'm telling! _Ed._ (_with recovered dignity_). Of course I recollect--perfectly. Well, ANGELINA, I'm not _annoyed_, of course, darling; but another time, you should really try to observe more closely what _is_ done and who _does_ it--before making all this fuss about nothing. _Ang._ But you won't go and be mesmerised again, EDWIN--not after this? _Ed._ Well, you see, as I always said, it hasn't the slightest effect on me. But from what I observed, I am perfectly satisfied that the whole thing is a fraud. All those other fellows were obviously accomplices, or they'd never have gone through such absurd antics--would they now? _Ang._ (_meekly_). No, dear, of course not. But don't let's talk any more about it. There are so many things it's no use trying to explain. * * * * * HOW IT'S DONE. (_A HAND-BOOK TO HONESTY._) NO. VII.--SELLING A HORSE. [Illustration] SCENE I.--_A Horse-Sale. Inexperienced Person, in search of a cheap but sound animal for business purposes, looking on in a nervous and undecided manner, half tempted to bid for the horse at present under the hammer. To him approaches a grave and closely-shaven personage, in black garments, of clerical cut, a dirty-white tie, and a crush felt hat._ _Clerical Gent_. They are running that flea-bitten grey up pretty well, are they not. Sir? _Inexperienced Person_. Ahem! ye-es, I suppose they are. I--er--was half thinking of bidding myself, but it's going a bit beyond me, I fear. _C.G._ Ah, plant, Sir--to speak the language of these horsey vulgarians--a regular plant! You are better out of it, believe me. _I.P._ _In_-deed! You don't say so? _C.G._ (_sighing_). Only too true. Sir. Why--(_in a gush of confidence_)--look at my own case. Being obliged to leave the country, and give up my carriage, I put my horse into this sale, at a _very_ low reserve of twenty pounds. (_Entre nous_, it's worth at least double that.) Between the Auctioneer, and a couple of rascally horse-dealers--who I found out, by pure accident, wanted my animal particularly _for a match pair_--the sale of my horse is what _they_ call "bunnicked up." _Then_ they come to me, and offer me money. I spot their game, and am so indignant that I'll have nothing to do with them, at _any_ price. Wouldn't sell dear old _Bogey_, whom my wife and children are so fond of, to such brutal blackguards, on _any_ consideration. No, Sir, the horse has done me good service--a sounder nag never walked on four hoofs; and I'd rather sell it to a good, kind master, for twenty pounds, aye, or even eighteen, than let these rascals have it, though they _have_ run up as high as thirty q----, ahem! guineas. _I.P._ Have they indeed, now? And what have you done with the horse?