The Amateur Gentleman

Never did a pair of top boots, big or little, shine with a lustre

more resplendent; never was postilion's jacket more excellent of fit,

nattier, or more carefully brushed; and nowhere could there be found

two rows of crested silver buttons with such an air of waggish

roguery, so sly, so knowing, and so pertinaciously on the everlasting

wink, as these same eight buttons that adorned the very small person

of his groomship, Milo of Crotona. He had slipped out suddenly from

the hedge, and now stood cap in hand, staring from the Viscount to

Barnabas, and back again, with his innocent blue eyes, and with every

blinking, twinkling button on his jacket. And his eyes were wide and

guileless--the eyes of a cherub; but his buttons!

Yea, forsooth, it was all in his buttons as they winked slyly one to

another as much as to say: "Aha! we don't know why his Lordship's nankeens are greened at the

knees, not we! nor why the gent's lower lip is unduly swelled. Lord

love your eyes and limbs, oh no!"

"What, my imp of innocence!" exclaimed the Viscount. "Where have you

sprung from?"

"'Edge, m'lud."

"Ah! and what might you have been doing in the hedge now?"

"Think'n', m'lud."

"And what were you thinking?"

"I were think'n', m'lud, as the tall genelman here is a top-sawyer

wi' 'is daddies, m'lud. I was."

"Aha! so you've been watching, eh?"

"Not watchin'--oh no, m'lud; I just 'appened ter notice--that's all,

m'lud."

"Ha!" exclaimed the Viscount; "then I suppose you happened to notice

me being--knocked down?"

"No, m'lud; ye see, I shut my eyes--every time."

"Every time, eh!" said his Lordship, with his whimsical smile.

"Oh Loyalty, thy name is Milo! But hallo!" he broke off, "I believe

you've been fighting again--come here!"

"Fightin', m'lud! What, me?"

"What's the matter with your face--it's all swollen; there, your

cheek?"

"Swellin', m'lud; I don't feel no swellin'."

"No, no; the other cheek."

"Oh, this, m'lud. Oh, 'e done it, 'e did; but I weren't fightin'."

"Who did it?"

"S' Mortimer's friend, 'e done it, 'e did."

"Sir Mortimer's friend?"

"Ah, 'im, m'lud."

"But, how in the world--"

"Wi' his fist, m'lud."

"What for?"

"'Cos I kicked 'im, I did."

"You--kicked Sir Mortimer Carnaby's friend!" exclaimed the Viscount.

"What in heaven's name did you do that for?"

"'Cos you told me to, m'lud, you did."

"I told you to kick--"

"Yes, m'lud, you did. You sez to me, last week--arter I done up that

butcher's boy--you sez to me, 'don't fight 'cept you can't 'elp it,'

you sez; 'but allus pertect the ladies,' you sez, 'an if so be as

'e's too big to reach wi' your fists--why, use your boots,' you sez,

an' so I did, m'lud."