On the
leaves of the pocketbook, people's addresses scrawled in pencil,
and bets jotted down in red ink. On one leaf, by itself, this
queer inscription:
"MEM. 5 ALONG. 4 ACROSS."
I understood everything but those words and figures, so of course
I copied them out into my own book.
Then I waited in the pantry till Boots had brushed the clothes,
and had taken them upstairs. His report when he came down was,
that Mr. D------ had asked if it was a fine morning. Being told
that it was, he had ordered breakfast at nine, and a saddle-horse
to be at the door at ten, to take him to Grimwith Abbey--one of
the sights in our neighborhood which I had told him of the
evening before.
"I'll be here, coming in by the back way, at half-past ten," says
I to the head chambermaid.
"What for?" says she.
"To take the responsibility of making Mr. Davager's bed off your
hands for this morning only," says I.
"Any more orders?" says she.
"One more," says I. "I want to hire Sam for the morning. Put it
down in the order-book that he's to be brought round to my office
at ten."
In case you should think Sam was a man, I'd better perhaps tell
you he was a pony. I'd made up my mind that it would be
beneficial to Tom's health, after the
tarts, if he took a constitutional airing on a nice hard saddle
in the direction of Grimwith Abbey.
"Anything else?" says the head chambermaid.
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