The Happy WarriorHutchinson, A. S. M. (Arthur Stuart-Menteth)
General
The Happy Warrior
Hutchinson, A. S. M. (Arthur Stuart-Menteth)
Fiction
"Pardon, me lord," begged Mr. Hannaford, bringing his stick back to his
leg from where it had flourished at Garge, and continuing: "There's
more demand for little 'orses than anybody that hasn't given brain to
it would believe, me lord. Gentlefolks' little girls want little
'orses and gentlefolks' little boys want little 'orses; gentlefolks'
little carts want little 'orses, young gentlemen want little polo
'orses, and circuses want little trick 'orses. Where are they going to
get 'em?" inquired Mr. Hannaford, and answered his question with:
"They're coming to me." (Crack!)
"Capital!" declared Lord Burdon, who was finding Mr. Hannaford a man
nearer to his liking than any he had met within the radius of Mount
Street.
"Capital's the word," agreed Mr. Hannaford. "Bless my eighteen stun
proper if it isn't!" (Crack!) "It will take time, mind you, me lord.
I'm doing it in stages. Stage One: circus little 'orses. I rackon I'm
level with Stage One now. Started with circus little 'orses because I
was in the circus line once and my brother Martin--Stingo they call
him, me lord--is in it now. Proper connaction with circus little
'orses I've worked up. They come to me when they want a circus little
'orse, bless my eighteen stun proper if they don't." (Crack!) "Stage
Two: little gentlefolks' little 'orses--just starting that now, me
lord. Stage Three: gentlefolks' little carts' little 'orses. Stage
Four: young gentlemen's little polo 'orses. What I want," declared Mr.
Hannaford with a culminating crack of tremendous proportions, "is to
make people when they see a little 'orse think of Hannaford.
Hannaford--little 'orse; little 'orse--Hannaford. Two words one
meaning, one meaning two words; that's my lay and I'll do it, bless my
eighteen stun proper if I won't!" (Crack!)
"'Pon my soul it's a big scheme," said Lord Burdon, highly entertained
and beginning to realise that this was no common man.
"Correct!" Mr. Hannaford assured him, and confided with a terrible
crack: "I call it a whopper. One of these days Stingo will settle down
and join me and there'll be no more holding us than you can hold a
little 'orse with your finger and thumb."
"Settle down?" Lord Burdon questioned, greatly interested. "Younger
than you, eh?"
"Three and a half minutes," returned Mr. Hannaford, and added, "Twins,"
in reply to Lord Burdon's exclamation of surprise. "Not much in point
of time, but very different in point of nature. Wants settling down;
then he'll be all right. You'll see Stingo in a minute, me lord; he's
here," and Mr. Hannaford pointed to the line of sheds they had reached.
"On a visit," he explained; and added with a heavy sigh: "Here to-day
and gone to-morrow; that's Stingo."
He unlatched a door. "This way, me lord. Only wooden stables at
present; brick, and brick floors, that's to come. This way, my young
lordship. This way, little master; don't you be a little 'orse now,
else maybe we shall make a mistake and tie you up in a stall."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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