Adventure stories; England -- Fiction; Romanies -- Fiction
say that I am either a coward or a screw either, except so far as one who
gets his bread by horses may be expected to be; and they can't say of me
that I ever ate up an ice which a young woman was waiting for, or that I
ever backed out of a fight. Horse!" said he, motioning with his finger
tauntingly to the other; "what do you want with a horse, except to take
the bread out of the mouth of a poor man--to-morrow is not the battle of
Waterloo, so that you don't want to back out of danger, by pretending to
have hurt yourself by falling from the creature's back, my lord of the
white feather--come, none of your fierce looks--I am not afraid of you."
In fact, the other had assumed an expression of the deadliest malice, his
teeth were clenched, his lips quivered, and were quite pale; the rat-like
eyes sparkled, and he made a half spring, a la rat, towards his
adversary, who only laughed. Restraining himself, however, he suddenly
turned to his understrapper, saying, "Symmonds, will you see me thus
insulted? go and trounce this scoundrel; you can, I know." "Symmonds
trounce me!" said the other, going up to the person addressed, and
drawing his hand contemptuously over his face; "why, I beat Symmonds in
this very yard in one round three years ago; didn't I, Symmonds?" said he
to the understrapper, who held down his head, muttering, in a surly tone,
"I didn't come here to fight; let every one take his own part." "That's
right, Symmonds," said the other, "especially every one from whom there
is nothing to be got. I would give you half-a-crown for all the trouble
you have had, provided I were not afraid that my Lord Plume there would
get it from you as soon as you leave the yard together. Come, take
yourselves both off; there's nothing to be made here." Indeed, his
lordship seemed to be of the same opinion, for after a further glance at
the horse, a contemptuous look at me, and a scowl at the jockey, he
turned on his heel, muttering something which sounded like fellows, and
stalked out of the yard, followed by Symmonds.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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