'Yes, William,' I said, condescendingly (I knew him); 'I am going to London. I shall go down into Suffolk afterwards.'
'Shooting, sir?' said the coachman.
He knew as well as I did that it was just as likely, at that time of year, I was going down there whaling; but I felt complimented, too.
'I don't know,' I said, pretending to be undecided, 'whether I shall take a shot or not.' 'Birds is got wery shy, I'm told,' said William.
'So I understand,' said I.
'Is Suffolk your county, sir?' asked William.
'Yes,' I said, with some importance. 'Suffolk's my county.'
'I'm told the dumplings is uncommon fine down there,' said William.
I was not aware of it myself, but I felt it necessary to uphold the institutions of my county, and to evince a familiarity with them; so I shook my head, as much as to say, 'I believe you!'
'And the Punches,' said William. 'There's cattle! A Suffolk Punch, when he's a good un, is worth his weight in gold. Did you ever breed any Suffolk Punches yourself, sir?'
'N-no,' I said, 'not exactly.'
'Here's a gen'lm'n behind me, I'll pound it,' said William, 'as has bred 'em by wholesale.'
