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"Vot a pace! and vot a country!" cries the grocer, standing high in his stirrups, and bending over the neck of his chestnut as though he were meditating a plunge over his head; "how they stick to him! vot a pack! by Jove they are at fault again. Yooi, Pilgrim! Yooi, Warbler, ma load! Tom, try down the hedge-row." "Hold your jaw, Mr. J ," cries Tom, "you are always throwing that red rag of yours.
So saying, he resumed his seat in the saddle, and easing his horse, endeavoured, by sundry dog noises such as, 'Yooi doit, Ravager! 'Gently, Paragon! 'Here again. Mercury! to restrain the ardour of the leading hounds, so as to let the rebellious tail ones up and go into cover with something like a body.
'Hoo-ray! exclaimed Captains Quod and Cutitfat, who now came panting up. 'Now, Mr. Watchorn! cried Captain Seedeybuck, adding, 'You're a huntsman! 'Yooi over, Prosperous! Yooi over, Buster! cheered Watchorn, still pretending anxiety about his hounds. 'Let me have a shy, squeaked George Cheek, backing his giraffe, as he had seen Mr. Sponge and Miss Glitters do.
Shouts of "Yooi over, over, over hounds try for him yoicks wind him! good dogs yoicks! stir him up have at him there!" here interrupted the jawbation, and the whip rode off shaking his sides with laughter.
"Eu in there, eu in, Cheapside, good dog." "Don't be in a hurry, sir, pray. He may be in the empty casks behind the cooper's. Yooi, try for him, good bitch. Yooi, push him out." "You're not going down that bank, surely sir? Why, it's almost perpendicular! For God's sake, sir, take care remember you are not insured.
The members of the Surrey are the people that combine business with pleasure, and even in the severest run can find time for sweet discourse, and talk about the price of stocks or stockings. "Yooi wind him there, good dog, yooi wind him." "Cottons is fell." "Hark to Cottager! Hark!" "Take your bill at three months, or give you three and a half discount for cash."
At length time being called, say twenty minutes to eleven, and Mr. Jorrocks, Nodding Homer, and the principal subscribers having cast up, the hounds approach the cover. "Yooi in there!" shouts Tom Hills, who has long hunted this crack pack; and crack! crack! crack! go the whips of some scores of sportsmen.
His new scarlet coat imparts a healthy hue to his face, and good boots and breeches hide the imperfections of his bad legs. His hounds seem to partake of the old man's gaiety, and gather round his horse or frolic forward on the grassy sidings of the road, till, getting almost out of earshot, a single 'yooi doit!
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