reference, were playing on an ash-heap near their cottage; and they
had a poor cat with a string round its neck, swinging backwards and
forwards, and as they did so they sang,--

This is the way poor daddy will go!
This is the way poor daddy will go!'

Such, Mr. Hawkins, was their excessive grief!"

Yes, but it got the verdict.




CHAPTER VI.

AN INCIDENT ON THE ROAD TO NEWMARKET.


My first visit to Newmarket Heath had one or two little incidents
which may be interesting, although of no great importance. The
Newmarket of to-day is not quite the same Newmarket that it was then:
many things connected with it have changed, and, above all, its
frequenters have changed; and if "things are not what they seem," they
do not seem to me, at all events, to be what they were "in my day."

Sixty years is a long space of time to traverse, but I do so with a
very vivid recollection of my old friend Charley Wright.

It was on a bright October morning when we set out, and glad enough