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Chapter 8 OLD TOM TOWLER

Word Count: 1536    |    Released on: 30/11/2017

his person furnished an apt illustration of the right appropriation of talent and the fitness of things, for he would neither have made a groom, n

ugly for a postillion, too stunted for a footman, too ligh

undress-say, shirt-sleves, shorts, grey stockings and shoes, bore about the same resemblance to each other that a three months dead jay nailed to a keeper's lodge bears to the bright-plumaged bird when flying about. On horseback, Tom was a cockey, wiry-looking, keen-eyed, grim-visaged, hard-bitten little fellow, sitting as though he and his horse were all one, while on foot he was the most shambling, scambling, crooked-going cr

he bar of the 'Imperial,' where he was attentively perusing the 'meets' in Bell's Life, reading how the Atherstone met at Gopsall, the Bedale at Hornby, the Cottesmore at Tilton Wood, and so on, with an industry worthy of a better cause; for Tom neither knew country, nor places, nor masters, nor hounds, nor huntsmen, nor anything, though he still felt an interest in reading where they were going to hunt. Thus he sat wit

a twisting, limping, halting, sideways sort of scramble up the room. His crooked legs didn't seem to have an exact understanding with his body which way they were to g

cusant right, which was a trifle shorter, as a prop behind. No one, to look at the little wizen'd old man in the loose dark frock, baggy striped waistcoat, and patent cord breeches, extending below where the calves of his bow legs

ng up the Fox's head, as Tom came t

' replied Tom, giving th

.-'What'll

, if you p

ng the Fox's head, which held about the third of a bo

s his mouth, and casting a side-long glance at the

it off at

w?' asked Mr. Waffles, as Tom replaced th

TOM

ed Tom, 'and then on to Bradwell Grove, unless you tho

nt to know is, whether we can make sure of a run. We want to giv

I 'spose,' replied Tom; 'at least as is com

r. Waffles, 'and I make no

ed Tom, in a lo

us a run?' asked Mr. Waffles, seeing his huntsma

, cautiously running the many

said Mr. Waffles, again raising

ou please,'

, handing him another bum

flush of life came into his weather-beaten face, just as a glow of

s bumptious cock beat u

om, adding, 'there'

aingey Thornton. 'He swears there isn't

m, with a twinkle of

served Mr. Waffles, 'we mu

robability,' replied Tom; carelessly a

omething,' asked Mr. Wa

as a hunting huntsma

' said Mr. Waffles, again a

d a glass,' replied Tom,

u have?' aske

ou please,'

Mr. Waffles, again ha

h a less satisfied face than before. He had had enough. The left

stiffest parts of the country, wherein all who liked should take part, but that Mr. Caingey Thornton and Mr. Spareneck should be especially deputed to wait upon Mr. Sponge, and lead him into mischief. Of course it was to be a 'profound secret,' and equally, of course, it stood a good chance of being kept, seeing how many were in it, the additional number it would have to be commu

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