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'You infernal poaching thieves！' roars out a man from the
hedge in the garb of a gamekeeper。 'I wish I could catch
you on this side of the hedge。 I'd put a brace of
barrels into you； that I would。'
'Curse that Snapper；' says Ponto； moving off； 'he's
always watching me like a spy。'
'Carry off the birds； you sneaks； and sell 'em in
London；' roars the individual； who it appears was a
keeper of Lord Carabas。 'You'll get six shillings a
brace for 'em。'
'YOU know the price of 'em well enough； and so does your
master too； you scoundrel；' says Ponto； still retreating。
'We kill 'em on our ground；' cries Mr。 Snapper。 'WE
don't set traps for other people's birds。 We're no decoy
ducks。 We're no sneaking poachers。 We don't shoot 'ens；
like that 'ere Cockney； who's got the tail of one a…
sticking out of his pocket。 Only just come across the
hedge； that's all。'
'I tell you what；' says Stripes； who was out with us as
keeper this day； （in fact he's keeper； coachman；
gardener； valet； and bailiff； with Tummus under him；） 'if
YOU'LL come across； John Snapper； and take your coat off；
I'll give you such a whopping as you've never had since
the last time I did it at Guttlebury Fair。'
'Whop one of your own weight；' Mr。 Snapper said；
whistling his dogs and disappearing into the wood。 And
so we came out of this controversy rather victoriously；
but I began to alter my preconceived ideas of rural
felicity。
Notes。
（1） I have since heard that this aristocratic lady's
father was a livery…button maker in St。 Martin's Lane：
where he met with misfortunes； and his daughter acquired
her taste for heraldry。 But it may be told to her
credit； that out of her earnings she has kept the bed…
ridden old bankrupt in great comfort and secrecy at
Pentonville； and furnished her brother's outfit for the
Cadetship which her patron； Lord Swigglebiggle； gave her
when he was at the Board of Control。 I have this
information from a friend。 To hear Miss Wirt herself；
you would fancy that her Papa was a Rothschild； and that
the markets of Europe were convulsed when he went into
the GAZETTE。
CHAPTER XXVIII
ON SOME COUNTRY SNOBS
'Be hanged to your aristocrats！' Ponto said； in some
conversation we had regarding the family at Carabas；
between whom and the Evergreens there was a feud。 'When
I first came into the countyit was the year before Sir
John Buff contested in the Blue interestthe Marquis；
then Lord St。 Michaels； who； of course； was Orange to the
core； paid me and Mrs。 Ponto such attentions； that I
fairly confess I was taken in by the old humbug； and
thought that I'd met with a rare neighbour。 'Gad； Sir；
we used to get pines from Carabas； and pheasants from
Carabas； and it was〃Ponto； when will you come over and
shoot？〃and〃Ponto； our pheasants want thinning；〃and
my Lady would insist upon her dear Mrs。 Ponto coming over
to Carabas to sleep； and put me I don't know to what
expense for turbans and velvet gowns for my wife's
toilette。 Well； Sir； the election takes place； and
though I was always a Liberal； personal friendship of
course induces me to plump for St。 Michaels； who comes in
at the head of the poll。 Next year； Mrs。 P。 insists upon
going to townwith lodgings in Clarges Street at ten
pounds a week； with a hired brougham； and new dresses for
herself and the girls； and the deuce and all to pay。 Our
first cards were to Carabas House； my Lady's are returned
by a great big flunkey； and I leave you to fancy my poor
Betsy's discomfiture as the lodging…house maid took in
the cards； and Lady St。 Michaels drives away； though she
actually saw us at the drawing…room window。 Would you
believe it； Sir； that though we called four times
afterwards； those infernal aristocrats never returned our
visit； that though Lady St。 Michaels gave nine dinner…
parties and four DEJEUNERS that season； she never asked
us to one； and that she cut us dead at the Opera； though
Betsy was nodding to her the whole night？ We wrote to
her for tickets for Almack's； she writes to say that all
hers were promised； and said； in the presence of Wiggins；
her lady's…maid； who told it to Diggs； my wife's woman；
that she couldn't conceive how people in our station of
life could so far forget themselves as to wish to appear
in any such place！ Go to Castle Carabas！ I'd sooner die
than set my foot in the house of that impertinent；
insolvent； insolent jackanapes and I hold him in
scorn！' After this； Ponto gave me some private
information regarding Lord Carabas's pecuniary affairs；
how he owed money all over the county； how Jukes the
carpenter was utterly ruined and couldn't get a shilling
of his bill； how Biggs the butcher hanged himself for the
same reason； how the six big footmen never received a
guinea of wages； and Snaffle； the state coachman；
actually took off his blown…glass wig of ceremony and
flung it at Lady Carabas's feet on the terrace before the
Castle； all which stories； as they are private； I do not
think proper to divulge。 But these details did not
stifle my desire to see the famous mansion of Castle
Carabas； nay； possibly excited my interest to know more
about that lordly house and its owners。
At the entrance of the park； there are a pair of great
gaunt mildewed lodgesmouldy Doric temples with black
chimney…pots； in the finest classic taste； and the gates
of course are surmounted by the CHATS BOTTES； the well…
known supporters of the Carabas family。 'Give the lodge…
keeper a shilling；' says Ponto； （who drove me near to it
in his four…wheeled cruelty…chaise）。 'I warrant it's the
first piece of ready money he has received for some time。
I don't know whether there was any foundation for this
sneer； but the gratuity was received with a curtsey； and
the gate opened for me to enter。 'Poor old porteress！'
says I； inwardly。 'You little know that it is the
Historian of Snobs whom you let in！' The gates were
passed。 A damp green stretch of park spread right and
left immeasurably； confined by a chilly grey wall； and a
damp long straight road between two huge rows of moist；
dismal lime…trees； leads up to the Castle。 In the midst
of the park is a great black tank or lake； bristling over
with rushes； and here and there covered over with patches
of pea…soup。 A shabby temple rises on an island in this
delectable lake； which is approached by a rotten barge
that lies at roost in a dilapidated boat house。 Clumps
of elms and oaks dot over the huge green flat。 Every one
of them would have been down long since； but that the
Marquis is not allowed to cut the timber。
Up that long avenue the Snobographer walked in solitude。
At the seventy…ninth tree on the left…hand side； the
insolvent butcher hanged himself。 I scarcely wondered at
the dismal deed； so woful and sad were the impressions
connected with the place。 So； for a mile and a half I
walkedalone and thinking