standing in the world. Men there as I learnt afterwards, are sought for themselves quite as much as they are elsewhere; and though my groom's top-boots were neat, and my horse a very tidy animal, my entry into Ballyglass created no sensation whatever.
In about four days after my arrival, when I was already infinitely disgusted with the little Pot-house in which I was forced to stay, and had made up my mind that the people in county Mayo were a churlish set, I sent my horse on to a meet of the fox-hounds, and followed after myself on an open car.
No one but an erratic fox-hunter such as I am,--a fox-hunter, I mean, whose lot it has been to wander about from one pack of hounds to another,--can understand the melancholy feeling which a man has when he first intrudes himself, unknown by any one, among an entirely new set of sportsmen. When a stranger falls thus as it were out of the moon into a hunt, it is impossible that men should not stare at him and ask who he is. And it is so disagreeable to be star
This is a humorous short story that is a witty, fun, quick read about Mr. Green and a night of mayhem at Castle O'Conor caused by the mistaken absence of his pumps (dancing shoes). Being cordially invited to an evening of dance Mr Green is dismayed that his only shoes, a pair of heavy hunting boots, will prevent an adequate performance on the dance floor. What is he to do? Trade shoes with the butler of course!