"What do you mean?" asked Verdant, who had not yet become fully acquainted with his friend's peculiar phraseology.
"Why, have a ride instead of taking a constitutional," explained Mr. Bouncer.
"Oh, certainly; all right! I shall be delighted," said Verdant.
"Then, if you 're delighted, and if I 'm delighted also," observed Mr. Bouncer, "we shall be like Ingoldsby's 'Babes in the Wood'—
'The two little dears were delighted
To think they a cock-horse should ride,
And were not in the least degree frighted.'
You won't be frighted to ride a cock-horse now, shall you? now that you have got that easy-going old screw—no! we won't call him a screw! we 'll say, that noble steed of Charley Symonds. He 's warranted not to toss you up without catching you again, is n't he? and he carries you as though you were sitting in an easy-chair without any stuffing in the cushions, does n't he? If you keep your seat as well as you contrived to do when we went to Woodstock the other day, I expect you 'll be bursting into verse, like Eliza Cook in breeches, with something of this sort—
I love it, I love it, and who can tear
My seat from C. Symonds's old bay mare!
Singing 's thirsty work, Giglamps. Why don't you order some beer, you ungrateful wretch? Shall I holloa for Robert?"
Mr. Verdant Green gave the required permission; and Mr. Filcher, after much shouting, eventually brought the desired refreshment
