CHAPTER XXX.
COCKS AND COXCOMBS Major Hockin brought the only fly as yet to be found in Bruntsea, to meet me at Newport, where the railway ended at present, for want of further encouragement.
"Very soon you go," he cried out to the bulkheads, or buffers, or whatever are the things that close the career of a land-engine.
"Station-master, you are very wise in putting in your very best cabbage plants there.

You understand your own company.

Well done! If I were to offer you a shilling apiece for those young early Yorks, what would you say, now ?" "Weel, a think I should say nah, Sir," the Scotch station-master made answer, with a grin, while he pulled off his cap of office and put on a dissolute Glengary.

"They are a veery fine young kail, that always pays for planting." "The villain!" said the Major, as I jumped into the fly.

"However, I suppose he does quite right.