with Dr. Dustacre; past the plantation, with its undergrowth of evergreens; then, round the corner, by the cross-roads, where had stood the chaise into which he had been forcibly hoisted by the broad-shouldered Brand; and, so on, past the point where he had been opportunely rescued by the Squire in his mail-phaeton. Little Mr. Bouncer laughed to himself as he recalled the scene.
He was in good time at the Barham Station. Dismissing the groom and dog-cart, he saw to his luggage, and took Huz and Buz, tethered by a chain, on to the platform. It was a hot July day, and it struck Mr. Bouncer that it would be advisable to refresh himself with a glass of bitter beer. He, therefore, went in search of the refreshment-room; but, he sought for it in vain; the small Barham Station could not boast of so valuable an addition to its provision for the public wants. At the same moment, there walked on to the platform a seedy and battered-looking man, who carried on his arm a large basket, the contents of which made it self-evident that it was, in fact, the peripatetic refreshment-room of the Barham Station. Any doubt on this subject would have been removed from Mr. Bouncer's mind, by the man approaching him with the query, "Refreshments, sir?" and holding out to him, as the most tempting sample of the contents of his basket, a greasy mutton-pie, the sight and smell of which delicacy were not so agreeable to Mr. Bouncer as to Huz and Buz, who tugged and tore at their chain, in the vain endeavour to possess themselves of so choice a dainty.
