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 Mr. SPONGE'S 
 Sporting Tour,
 
 / iv,>c^v«_ uM_ti n^ i"^ /'"t-it 
 
 j^^aTSiJI 
 
 
 (o^rPajJ^ /f-v-P.
 
 jSpoi^ting Toui[ 
 
 AUTHOR OF ''HAND LEY CROSS," ''ASK HIAMMA," 
 
 &'c., 6-v. 
 
 (lIjc "Jjorrochs" (tbtlion. 
 
 LONDON : 
 BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO. Limd , 8, 9, 10, BOUVERIE ST.
 
 LONDON : 
 BRADBURY, ACNEW, & CO. HMD., PRINTERS, VVIIITEFRIARS.
 
 
 PREFACE 
 TO THE ORIGINAL EDITION. 
 
 The author gladly avails himself of the convenience 
 of a Preface for stating, that it will be seen at the close 
 of the work why he makes such a characterless character 
 as Mr. Sponge the hero of his tale. 
 
 He will be glad if it serves to put the rising gene- 
 ration on their guard against specious, promiscuous 
 acquaintance, and trains them on to the noble sport of 
 hunting, to the exclusion of its mercenary, illegitimate 
 off-shoots. 
 
 Kovcmlcr, 1S52.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAP. PACK 
 
 I. — OUK HEr.O 1 
 
 II. — iin. EEXJAIIIN" BUCKUAM 5 
 
 III. — PETER LEATHER 10 
 
 IV. — " LAVERICK "WELLS " 17 
 
 V. — MR. AVAEFLES 21 
 
 VI. — TO LAVERICK WELLS 27 
 
 VII.— OUR HERO ARRIVES AT LAVERICK AVELLS . . . . -31 
 
 VIII. — OLD TOM TOWLER S7 
 
 IX. — THE MEET 41 jj 
 
 "y^^-^. — THE FIND, AND THE FIXISH 47^ — / / 
 
 ^ XI. — THE FEELER 5."> 
 
 XII. — THE DEAL, AND THE DISA.STER 59 
 
 XIII. — AN OLD FRIEND 63 
 
 XIV. — A NEW SCHEME 71 
 
 XV.— JAWLEYFORD COURT 77 
 
 XVI. — THE JAWLEYFORD E.STACLISIIMENT 81 
 
 XVII. — THE DINNER 86 
 
 XVIII. — THE evening's REFLECTIONS 92 
 
 XIX. — THE AVET DAY 95 
 
 T/5X. — THE F. JL H 104 
 
 'XXI. — A COUNTRY DINNER-PARTY Ill 
 
 XXII. — THE F. n. H. AGAIN 121 
 
 XXIII. — THE GREAT EUN 129 
 
 XXIV. — LORD KCAMPERDALE AT IIO.ME HU 
 
 XXV. — MR. SPRAGGON's EMBASSY 149 
 
 XXVI. — MR. SPRAGGON AT JAWLEYFORD COURT 160 
 
 XXVII. — MR. AND MRS. SPRINGWHEAT 169 
 
 XXVin. — THE FINEST RUN THAT EVER WAS SEEN! . . . 179 ^ 
 
 X2IX. — THE FAITHFUL GROOM 1S5
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 en A p. 
 
 XXX. — THE CROSS-ROADS AT DALLIKGTON EURX . . . 
 
 XXXI. — LOLTING THE EADGEU 
 
 XXXII.— MR. I'UFFINGTOX ; OR, THE YOUNG MAN ALOUT TOWN . 
 
 XXXIII. — A SWELL nUNTSJIAX 
 
 XXXIA'. — LORD SCAMPERDALE AT JAWLEYFORD COURT . 
 XXXV. — MR. rUFFIXGTON's DOMESTIC ARRANGEMEXTS 
 XXXVI, — A DAY-- WITH PUFFIXGTOX'S HOUXDS .... 
 
 XXXVII. — WRITING A RUN 
 
 XXXVIII. — A LITERARY' BLOOMER 
 
 XXXIX. — A DIXXER AXD A DEAL 
 
 XL. — THE MORXIXG'S REFLECTIOXS 
 
 XLI. — AV ANTED — A RICH GOD-PAl'A ! 
 
 XLII. — THE DISCOMFITED DIPLOMATIST 
 
 XLIII. — PUDDINGPOTE ROWER, THE SEAT OF JOGGI.EF.URY CROWDEV 
 
 ESQ 
 
 XLIV.— A FAMILY BREAKFAST OX A IIUXTIXG MOl'.NINC . 
 
 XLV. — HUNTIXG THE HOUXDS 
 
 XLVI. — COUXTRY QUARTERS 
 
 XLVII.— SIR HARRY SCATTERCASll'S HOUXDS .... 
 XLVIII. — FARMER PEASTIIAW'S DINE-MATIXKE .... 
 
 XLIX. — PUDDIXGPOTE BOWER 
 
 L. — THE TRIGGER 
 
 LI. — XOXSUCII HOUSE AGAIX 
 
 LI I. — THE DEBATE 
 
 LIII. -FACEY ROMFORD AT HOME 
 
 LIV. — XOXSUCII HOUSE AGAIN 
 
 LV.^THE RISING GEXERATIOX 
 
 LVI. — THE KENNEL AND THE STUD 
 
 LVII. — THE HUNT 
 
 LVIII.— MR. SPOXGE AT HOJIE 
 
 LIX. — HOW THE GRAXD ARISTOCRATIC CAME OFF 
 LX. — HOW OTHER THINGS CAME OFF 
 
 199 
 
 205 
 215 
 226 
 237 
 242 
 
 261 
 266 
 277 
 288 
 294
 
 LIST OF VIGNETTES. 
 
 PAOK 
 
 Mr. Sponge in Oxford Street .1 
 
 Mr. Sponge negotiating ■with Mr. Buckram . . . . . .10 
 
 Mr. Thomas Slocdolager, late Master of the Laverick ^YelIs Hounds . 1 7 
 
 Mr. Waffles . 21 
 
 Leather on " Ercles " and Parvo ........ 27 
 
 Tom in Hunting Habiliments 37 
 
 Enjoying the View .......... 41 
 
 Captain Greatgun ........... 47 
 
 Decorated with a sky-bhie Visite . . . . . . . .59 
 
 Portrait of Lord Bullfrog, formerly owner of Hercules . . . . C3 
 
 Mr. Sponge in good feather , . . . . . . . .71 
 
 Jawleyford of Jawleyford Court . . . . . . . . 81 
 
 Making Light Wine 66 
 
 "This, of course you know ?" . ........ 95 
 
 Mr, Kobert Foozle }My 
 
 Mr. Sponge and the Misses Jawleyford 11 1^' 
 
 Jawleyford going to the Hunt 121 
 
 His Lordship has it all to himself . . . . . . . . 129 
 
 Silver-mounted Spectacles 140 
 
 His Lordship and Jnck 144 
 
 Good Night 148 
 
 Mr. Jawleyford's peculiar ailment . . . . . . . . 149 
 
 Enter Mr. Jack Spraggon, full dress 160 
 
 Springwheat's Five-year-old Horse . . . . . . . . 1G9 
 
 Over ! 179 
 
 Going to Cover 185 
 
 Mr. Leather and Sponge have a Difference of Oinnion .... 1S8 
 
 The Morning Eide to Dallingtou 191 
 
 Jack Frosty and Charley Slapp 197
 
 X LIST OF VIGNETTES. 
 
 I'AGB 
 
 Mistress and Maid 199 
 
 Jlr. Sponge demanding an Explanation 203 
 
 Mr. Puffington, from the original picture 205 
 
 An "ama-a-zia' poplar " Man 215 
 
 Lord Scamperdale as lie appeared in his " Swell " Clothes . . . 226 
 
 An early Breakfast ........... 236 
 
 A good Run 242 
 
 A ramning Writer 250 g-- 
 
 Miss Grimes giving the "corrected" Copy to the Printer . . . 263 ^^y 
 
 Mr. Pacey 266 "^ 
 
 ]\Ir. Puffington 277 
 
 Tlie Jogglehurys at Home 288 
 
 Jogglebury's Picturn .......... 294 
 
 Mr. Jogglebury introducing himself to Mr. Sponge 297 
 
 Bartholomew and Slurry Ann 303 
 
 Gustavus James 311 
 
 Lady Scattercash 324 
 
 The Nonsuch Courier 328 
 
 ilr. Bugles prefers Dancing to Hunting 338 
 
 Oustavus James in Trouble ......... 351 
 
 Mr. Sponge gives Ponto a Lesson 360 
 
 Frantic delight of Ponto 363 
 
 Domestic Economy of Nonsuch House 3C7 
 
 Sir Harry of Nonsuch House 377 
 
 :\Ir. Facey Romford 388 
 
 r)illiards Facey 396 
 
 " Mr. Sponge, my Lady " 399 
 
 Sponge " a Captive " 428 
 
 Voluntary Contributions 434 
 
 ilr. Yiney and Mr. "Watchorn getting up '"The Grand Aristocratic" . 435 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Spongo 450
 
 EXTRA ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Mr. Sponge completely scatters his Lordship . Frontispiece 
 {Coloured Illustration.) 
 
 Mu. "Waffles, the Master of ttik " Lavertcic Wells" 
 
 Hounds To face p. 21 
 
 Mr. Jawleyford . . . "what a Landlord ought to be" 
 
 JIr. Sponge in the best Bedroom at Jawleyford Court 
 
 Spraggon's Embassy to Jawleyford Court . 
 
 Jack and Mr. Sponge writing an article 
 
 Mr. Sponge starting from the Bower .... 
 
 Facey Eomford treats Sponge to a Lirii.r. Music . 
 
 Mr. Bugles goes out Hunting again .... 
 
 75 
 92 
 
 150 
 255 
 329 
 391 
 414
 
 Mr. SPONGE'S Sporting 
 Tour. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 OUR UEliO. 
 
 T was a murky Octo- 
 ber day that the 
 hero of our tale, Mr. 
 Sponge, or Soapey 
 Sponge, as his good- 
 natured friends call 
 liim, was seen miz- 
 zling along Oxford 
 Street, wending his 
 way to the West. 
 Not that there was 
 anything unusual in. 
 Sponge being seen 
 in Oxford Street, for 
 when in town his 
 daily perambulations 
 consist of a circuit, 
 commencing from 
 the Bantam Hotel 
 in Bond Street into 
 Piccadilly, through 
 Leicester Square, 
 and so on to Ald- 
 ridge's, in St. Mar- 
 tin's Lane, thence 
 by Moore's sporting- 
 print-shop, and on 
 some of those ambiguous and tortuous streets that, 
 J to lead all w^ays at once and none in particular, land 
 the explorer, sooner or later, on the south side of Oxford Street. 
 Oxford Street acts to the north part of London what the Strand 
 
 MR. SPONGE IN OXFORD STREET. 
 
 through 
 appearin
 
 2 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 does to the south ; it is sure to bring one up, sooner or later. A 
 man can hardly get over either of them without knowing it. 
 Well, Soapey having got into Oxford Street, would make his way 
 at a squarey, in-kneed, duck-toed, sort of pace, regulated by the 
 bonnets, the vehicles, and the equestrians he met to criticise ; for 
 of women, vehicles, and horses, he had voted himself a consummate 
 judge. Indeed he had fully established in his own mind that 
 Kiddey Downey and he were the only men in London who rcalli/ 
 knew anything about horses, and fully impressed with that 
 conviction, he would halt, and stand, and stare, in a way that with 
 any other man would have been considered impertinent. Perhaps 
 it was impertinent in Soapsy — we don't mean to say it wasn't — 
 but he had done it so long, and was of so sporting a gait and cut, 
 that he felt himself somewhat privileged. Moreover, the majority 
 of liorsemen are so satisfied with the animals they bestride, that 
 they cock up their jibs and ride along with a " find any fault with 
 cither me or my horse, if you can " sort of air. 
 
 Thus Mr. Sponge proceeded leisurely along, now nodding to this 
 
 man, now jerking his elbow to that, now smiUng on a phaeton, 
 
 now sneering at a 'bus. If he did not look in at Shackell's, or 
 
 Bartley's, or any of the dealers on the line, he was always to bo 
 
 found about half-past five at Camberland Gate, from whence he 
 
 would strike leisurely down the Park, and after coming to a long 
 
 •check at Rotten Eow rails, from whence he would pass all the cavalry 
 
 in the Park in review, he would wend his way back to the Bantam, 
 
 much in the style he had come. This was his summer proceeding. 
 
 Mr. Sponge had pursued this enterprising life for some 
 
 " seasons " — ten at least — and supposing him to have begun at 
 
 twenty or one-and-twenty, he would be about thirty at the time we 
 
 have the pleasure of introducing him to our readers — a period of life 
 
 at which men begin to s aspect they were not quite so wise at twenty 
 
 as they thought. Not that Mr. Sponge had any particular indis- 
 
 oretions to reflect upon, for he was tolerably sharp, but he felt 
 
 that he might have made better use of his time, Avhich mny be 
 
 shortly described as having been spent in hunting all the winter. 
 
 and in talking about it all the summer. With this popular sport 
 
 he combined the diversion of fortune-hunting, though we are 
 
 concerned to say that his success, up to the period of our 
 
 introduction, had not been commensurate with his deserts. Let us, 
 
 however, hope that brighter days are about to dawn upon him. 
 
 Having now introduced our hero to our male and female friends, 
 under his interesting pursuits of fox and fortune-hunter, it becomes 
 us to say a few words as to his qualifications for carrying them on. 
 Mr. Sponge Avas a good-looking, rather vulgar-looking man. At 
 a distance— say ten yards — his height, figure, and carriage gave 
 him somewhat of a commanding appearance, but this was rather
 
 ME. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 3 
 
 marred by a jerky, twitchy, nncasy sort of air, that too plainly 
 showed he was not the natural, or what the lower orders call the 
 real gentleman. Not that Sponge was shy. Far from it. He 
 never hesitated about offering to a lady, afi;er a three days' 
 acquaintance, or in asking a gentleman to take liira a li.rsc in 
 over-night, with whom he might chance to come in contact in the 
 liuntiag-field. And he did it all in such a cool, off-hand, matter- 
 of-course sort of way, that ])eople who would have stared with 
 astonishment if anybody else had hinted at such a proposal, really 
 seemed to come into the humour and spirit of the thing, and to 
 look upon it rather as a matter of course than otherAvise. Then 
 his dexterity in getting into people's houses was only equahed by 
 the difficulty of getting him out again, but this Ave must AvaiA-e 
 lor the present in favour of his portraiture. 
 
 In height, Mr. Sponge was about the middle size — five feet 
 eleven or so — Avith a well borne up, not badly sh.aped, closely 
 cropped oval head, a tolerably good, but someAvhat receding fore- 
 head, bright hazel eyes, Roman nose, Avith carefully tended Avhiskcrs, 
 reaching the corners of a Avell-formed mouth, and thence descending 
 in semicircles into a vast expanse of hair beneath the chin. 
 
 Having mentioned Mr. Sponge's groomy gait and horsey 
 propensities, it Avere almost needless to say, that his dress Avas in 
 the sporting style — you saAV Avhat he Avas by his clothes. Every 
 article seemed to be made to defy the utmost rigour of the 
 elements. His hat (Lincoln and Bennett) Avas hard and heavy. 
 It sounded upon an entrance-hall table like a drum. A little 
 magical loop in the lining explained the cause of its weight. 
 SomehoAV, his hats Avere never either old or ncAV — not that he 
 bought them second-hand, but Avhen he bought a neAV one he 
 took its "long-coat" off, as he called it, Avith a singeing lamp, and 
 made it look as if it had undergone a lew probationary showers. 
 
 When a good London hat recedes to a certain point, it gets 
 no Avorsc ; it is not like a country-made thing that keeps 
 ^oing and going uutil it declines into a thing Avith no sort of 
 resemblance to its original self. Barring its Aveight and hardness, 
 the Sponge hat had no particular character apart from the Sponge 
 liead. It Avas not one of those punty ovals or Cheshire-cheese flats, 
 or curly-sided things that enables one to say Avho is in a house and 
 Avho is not, by a glance at the hats in the entrance, but it Avas 
 just a quiet, round hat,Avithout anything remarkable, either in the 
 binding, the lining, or the baud, still it was a very becoming hat 
 Avhen Sponge had it on. There is a great deal of character in 
 hats. We liaA'c seen hats that bring the owners to the recollection 
 far more forcibly than the generality of portraits. But to our 
 Jiero. 
 
 That there may be a dandified simplicity in dress, is exempli-
 
 4 mi:, sfonge's sporting tour. 
 
 fied e v-cry day by our friends the Quakers, who adorn their beautiful 
 lirown Saxony coats with httle inside velvet collars and fancy silk 
 buttons, and even the severe order of sporting costume adopted by 
 our friend Mr. Sponge, is not devoid of capability in the Avay of 
 tasteful adaptation. This Mr. Sponge chiefly showed in promoting 
 a resemblance between his neckcloths and waistcoats. Thus, if he 
 wore a cream-coloured cravat, he would have a buff- coloured 
 waistcoat, if a striped waistcoat, then the starcher would be 
 imbued with somewhat of the same colour and pattern. The ties 
 of these varied wath their texture. The silk ones terminated in a 
 sort of coaching fold, and were secured by a golden fox -head pin, 
 Avhile the striped starchers, with the aid of a pin on each side, just 
 made a neat, unpretending tie in the middle, a sort of miniature of 
 the flagrant, flyaway, Mile-End ones of aspiring youth of the 
 present da}'. His coats were of the single-breasted cut-away order, 
 with pockets outside, and generally either Oxford mixture or some 
 dark colour, that required you to place him in a favourable light 
 to say what it Avas. 
 
 His waistcoats, of course, were of the most correct form and 
 material, generally either pale buflP, or buff with a narrow stripe,, 
 similar to the undress vests of the servants of the Royal Family, 
 only with the pattern run across instead of lengthways, as those 
 worthies mostly have theirs, and made with good honest step 
 collars, instead of the make-believe roll collars they sometimes con- 
 vert their upright ones into. When in deep thought, calculating,, 
 perhaps, the value of a passing horse, or considering whether he 
 should have beefsteaks or lamb chops for dinner. Sponge's thumbs, 
 would rest in the arm-holes of his waistcoat ; in which easy, but 
 not very elegant, attitude, he would sometimes stand until all 
 trace of the idea that elevated them had passed away from his mind. 
 
 In the trouser line he adhered to the close-fitting costume of 
 former days ; and many were the trials, the casings, and the 
 alterings, ere he got a pair exactly to his mind. Many were the 
 customers who turned away on seeing his manly figure filling the 
 swing mirror in " Snip and Sneiders','' a monopoly that some 
 tradesmen might object to, only Mr. Sponge's trousers being 
 admitted to be perfect " triumphs of the art," the more such a walk- 
 ing advertisement was seen in the shop the better. Indeed, we be- 
 lieve it would have been worth Snip and Co.'s while to have let him 
 have them for nothing. They were easy without being tight, or 
 rather they looked tight without being so ; there wasn't a bag, a 
 wrinkle, or a crease that there shouldn't be, and strong and storm- 
 defying as they seemed, they were yet as soft and as supple as a lady's 
 glove. They looked more as if his legs had been blown in them 
 than as if such irreproachable garments were the work of man's 
 hands. Many Avcre the nudges, and many the " look at this
 
 ME. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 5 
 
 chap's trousers," that were given by ambitious nieu emulous of his 
 appearance as he passed along, and many were the turnings round 
 to examine their iaultless fall upon his radiant boot. The boots, 
 perhaps, might come in for a little of the glory, for they were 
 beautifully soft and cool-looking to the foot, easy without being 
 loose, and he preserved the lustre of their polisli, even up to 
 the last moment of his walk. There never was a better man for 
 getting through dirt, either on foot or horseback, than our friend. 
 To the frequenters of the " corner," it were almost superfluous 
 to mention that he is a constant attendant. He has several 
 volumes of " catalogues," with the prices the horses have brought 
 set down in the margins, and has a rare knack at recognising old 
 friends, altered, disguised, or disfigured as they may be — *' I've 
 Keen that rip before," he will say, with a knowing shake of the 
 head, as some woe-begoue devil goes, best leg foremost, up to the 
 liammer, or, " What ! is that old beast back ? why he's here every 
 day." No man can impose upon Soapey with a horse. He can 
 detect the rough-coated plausibilities of the straw-yard, equally 
 with the metamorphosis of the clipper or singer. His practised 
 eye is not to be imposed upon either by the blandishments of the 
 bang-tail, or the bereavements of the dock. Tattersall will hail 
 him from his rostrum with — "Here's a horse will suit you, ]\Ir. 
 Sponge ! cheap, good, and handsome ! come and l)uy In'm." But 
 it is needless describing hini here, for every out-of-place groom 
 and dog-stealer's man knows him by sight. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 MK. BENJAMIN BUCKKA3I. 
 
 Havixo dressed and sufficiently described our hero to enable 
 our readers to form a general idea of the man, we have now to le- 
 quest them to return to the day of our introduction. IMr. Sponge 
 had gone along Oxford Street at a somewhat improved pace to his 
 usual wont — had paused for a shorter period in the " 'bus " per- 
 plexed " Cu-cus," and pulled up seldomer than usual between the 
 Circus and the limits of his stroll. Behold him now at the Edge- 
 ware Road end, eyeing the 'busses with a wanting-a-ridc like air, 
 instead of the contemptuous sneer he generally adopts towards 
 those uncouth productions. Eed, green, blue, drab, cinnamon- 
 colour, passed and crossed, and jostled, and stopped, and blocked, 
 and the cads telegraphed, and winked, and nodded, and smiled,
 
 C MIL SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 and slanp'ccl, but Mr, Spono-e regarded them nob. He had a sort 
 of " 'bus " panorama in his head, knew the run of them all, wlience 
 they started, where they stopped, where they watered, where they 
 changed, and, wonderful to relate, had never been entrapped into u 
 sixpenny iare when he meant to take a threepenny one. In cab 
 and '- 'bus" geography there is not a more learned man in London. 
 
 Mark him as he stands at the corner. He sees Avhat he wants, 
 it's the chequered one with the red and blue wheels that the Bays- 
 water ones have got between them, and that the St. John's Wood 
 and two Western Railway ones arc trying to get into trouble by 
 crossing. What a row ! how the ruffians whip, and stamp, and 
 storm, and all but pick each other's horses' teeth with their poles, 
 how the cads gesticulate, and the passengers imprecate ! now the 
 bonnets are out of the windows, and the row increases. Six 
 coachmen cutting and storming, six cads sawing the air, sixteen 
 ladies in flowers screaming, six-and-twenty sturdy passengers 
 swearing they will " fine them all," and Mr. Sponge is the only 
 cool person in the scene. He doesn't rush into the throng and 
 " jump in," for fear the 'bus should extricate itself and drive on 
 without him ; he doesn't make confusion worse confounded by in- 
 timating his behest ; he doesn't soil his bright boots by stepping 
 olf the kerb-stone ; but, quietly waiting the evaporation of the 
 steam, and the disentanglement of the vehicles, by the smallest 
 possible sign in the world, given at the opportune moment, and a 
 steady adhesion to the flags, the 'bus is obliged either to " come to," 
 or lose the fare, and he steps quietly in, and squeezes along to the 
 far end, as though intent on going the whole hog of the Journey. 
 
 Away they rumble up the Edgeware Road ; the gradual emer- 
 gence from the brick and mortar of London being marked as well 
 by the telling out of passengers as by the increasing distances be- 
 tween the houses. First, it is all close huddle with both. Austere 
 iron railings guard the subterranean kitchen areas, and austere 
 looks indicate a desire on the part of the passengers to guard their 
 own pockets ; gradually little gardens usurp the places of the 
 cramped areas, and, Avith their humanising appearance, softer looks 
 assume the place of frowning «?i/'/-swell-mob ones. 
 
 Presently a glimpse of green country or of distant hills may be 
 caught between the wider spaces of the houses, and frequent set- 
 tings down increase the space between the passengers ; gradually 
 conservatories appear, and conversation strikes up ; then como the 
 exciusiveness of villas, some detached and others running out at 
 last into real pure green fields studded with trees and picturesque 
 pot-houses, before one of which latter a sudden wheel round and a 
 jerk announces the journey done. The last passenger (if there is 
 one) is then unceremoniously turned loose upon the country. 
 Our readers will have the kindness to suppose our hero, Mr.
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUIt. 7 
 
 Sponge, shot out of an omnibus at the sign of the Cat and Com- 
 passes, in the full rurality of grass country, sprinkled with fallows^ 
 and turnip-fields. We should state that this unwonted journey 
 was a desire to pay a visit to Mr. Benjamin Buckram, the horse- 
 dealer's farm at Scampley, distant some mile and a half from where 
 he was set down, a space that he now purposed travelling on foot. 
 Mr. Benjamin Buckram was a small horse-dealer, — small, at 
 least, when he was buying, though great when he was selling. It 
 would do a youngster good to see Ben filling the two capacities. 
 He dealt in second hand, that is to say, past mark of mouth 
 horses ; but on the present occasion Mr. Sponge sought his ser- 
 vices in the capacity of a letter rather than a seller of horses. Mr. 
 Sponge wanted to job a couple of plausible-looking horses, witlii 
 the option of buying them, provided he (Mr. Sponge) could sell 
 them for more than he would have to give Mr. Buckram, exclu- 
 sive of the hire. Mr. Buckram's job price, we should say, was as 
 near twelve pounds a mouth, containing twenty-eight days, as he 
 could screw, the hirer, of course, keeping the animals. 
 
 Scampley is one of those pretty little suburban farms, peculiar 
 to the north and northwest side of London — farms varying from 
 fifty to a hundred acres of well-manured, gravelly soil ; each farm 
 with its picturesque little buildings, consisting of small, honey- 
 suckled, rose-entwined brick houses, with small, flat, pan-tiled 
 roofs, and lattice-windows ; and, hard by, a large haystack, thi'ce 
 times the size of the house, or a desolate barn, half as big as all 
 the rest of the buildings. From the smallness of the holdings, the 
 farm-houses are dotted about as thickly, and at such varying dis- 
 tances from the roads, as to look like inferior " villas " falling out 
 of rank ; most of them have a half-smart, half-seedy sort of look. 
 
 The rustics who cultivate them, or rather look after them, are 
 neither exactly town nor country. They have the clownish dress 
 and boorish gait of the regular '• chaws," with a good deal of the 
 quick, suspicious, sour saucincss of the low London resident. IT 
 you can get an answer from them at all, it is generally delivered 
 in such a way as to show tliat the answerer thinks you are what 
 they call "challing them," asking them what you know. 
 
 These farms serve the double pnr])Ose of purveyors to the Lon- 
 don stables, and hospitals for sick, overworked, or unsaleable 
 horses. All the gi-eat job-masters and horse-dealers have these re- 
 treats in the country, and the smaller ones pretend to have, from 
 whence, in due course, they can draw any sort of an animal a cus- 
 tomer may want, just as little cellarless wine-merchants can get 
 you any sort of wine from real establishments — if you only give 
 them time. 
 
 There was a good deal of mystery about Scampley. It was 
 sometimes in the hands of Mr. Benjamin Buckram, sometimes in
 
 8 MR. SPONGE'S SPOUTING TOUP. 
 
 the hands of his assignees, sometimes in those of his cousin 
 Abraliam Brown, and sometimes John Doe and liichard Eoe vrerc 
 the occupants of it. 
 
 Mr. Benjamin Buckram, though very far from being one, had 
 the advantage of looking like a respectable man. There was a 
 certain plump, well-fed rosiness about him, which, aided by a 
 bright-coloured dress, joined to a continual fumble in the pockets 
 of his drab trousers, gave him the air of a " well-to-do-in-thc- 
 world " sort of man. Moreover, he sported a velvet collar to his 
 blue coat, a more imposing ornament than it appears at first sight. 
 To be sure, there are two sorts of velvet collars, — the legitimate 
 velvet collar, commencing with the coat, and the adopted velvet 
 collar, put on when the cloth one gets shabby, 
 J Bucla-am's was always the legitimate velvet collar, new from 
 pthe first, and, we really believe, a permanent velvet collar, adhered 
 to in storm and in sunshine, has a very money-making impression 
 on the world. It shows a spirit superior to feelings of paltry 
 economy, and we think a person would be much more excusable 
 for being victimised by a man with a good velvet collar to his 
 coat, than by one exhibiting that spurious sign of gentility — a 
 horse and gig. 
 
 The reader will now have the kindness to consider Mr, Sponge 
 arriving at Scampley. 
 
 "Ah, Mr, Sponge!" exclaimed Mr, Buckram, who, having 
 seen our friend advancing up the little twisting approach from 
 the road to his house through a little square window almost blinded 
 with Irish ivy, out of which he was in the habit of contemplating 
 the arrival of his occasional lodgers. Doe and Roe, "Ah, Mr. 
 Sponge ! " exclaimed he, with well-assumed gaiety ; " yon should 
 have been here yesterday ; sent away two sicli osses — perfect 
 ""unters — the werry best I do think I ever saw in my life ; either 
 would have bin the werry oss for your money. But come in, Mr. 
 Sponge, sir, come in," continued he, backing himself through a 
 little sentry-box of a green portico, to a narrow passage which 
 branched off into little rooms on either side. 
 
 As Buckram made this reti'ograde movement, he gave a gentle 
 pull to the wooden handle of an old-fashioned wire bell-pull, in 
 the midst of buggy, four-in-hand, and other whips, hanging in 
 the entrance, a touch that was acknowledged by a single tinkle 
 of the bell in the stable-yard. 
 
 They then entered the little room on the right, whose walls 
 were decorated with various sporting prints, chiefly illustrative of 
 steeple-chaces, with here and there a stunted fox-brush, tossing 
 about as a duster. The ill-ventilated room reeked with the 
 effluvia of stale smoke, and the f;:ided green baize of a little round 
 table in the centre was covered with filbert-shells and empty ale-
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SrOETING TOUR. 9 
 
 C'lasses, The Avhole furniture of the room Avasu't wortli five 
 pounds. 
 
 Mr, Sponire, beinjr now on the dealing tack, commenced in the 
 poverty-stricken strain adapted to the occasion. Having de- 
 posited his hat on the floor, taken his left leg up to nurse, and 
 given his hair a backward rub with his right hand, he thus com- 
 menced : 
 
 " Xow, Buckram," said he, " I'll tell you how it is. I'm dcnccd 
 hard-up, — regulai-ly in Short's Gardens. I lost eighteen 'undred 
 on the Derby, and seven on the Leger, the best part of my year's 
 income, indeed : and I just want to hire two or three horses for 
 the season, with the option of buying, if I like ; and if you 
 supply me well, I may be the meaus of bringing grist to your 
 mill ; you twig, eh ? " 
 
 " AVell, ]\Ir. Sponge," replied Buckram, sliding several consecutive 
 half-crowns down the incline plane of his pocket. "Well, Mr. 
 Sponge, I shall be happy to do my best for you. I wish you'd come 
 yesterday, though, as I said before, I jest had two of the neatest 
 nags — a bay and a grey — not that colour makes any matter to a 
 judge like you ; there's no sounder sayin' than that a good oss is 
 not never of a bad colour ; only to a young gemman, you know, 
 it's well to have 'em smart, and the ticket, in short ; howsomevcr, 
 I must do the best I can for you, and if there's nothin' in that 
 tickles your lancy, why, you must give me a few days to see if 
 I can arrange an exchange with some other gent ; but the present 
 is like to be a werry ha"ggiwatin' season ; had more happlications 
 for osses nor ever I remembers, aiid I've been a dealer noAV, man 
 and boy, turned of eight-and-thirty years ; but young gents is 
 Avhimsical, and it was a young'un wot got these, and there's no 
 sayin' but he mayn't like them — indeed, one's rayther dilficult 
 to ride, — that's to say, the grey, the neatest of the two, and he 
 may come back, and if so, you shall have him ; and a safer, 
 sweeter oss was never seen, or one more like to do credit to a 
 gent : but you knows what an oss is, IMr. Sponge, and can do 
 justice to me, and I should like to put summut good into your 
 hands — that I should." 
 
 With conversation, or rather with balderdash, such as this, Mr. 
 Buckram beguiled the few minutes necessary for removing the 
 bandages, hiding the bottles, and stirring np the cripples about 
 to be examined, and the heavy flap of the coach-house door 
 announcing that all was ready, he forthwith led the way through 
 a door in a brick Avail into a little three-sides of a square yard, 
 formed of stables and loose boxes, with a dilapidated dove-cote 
 above a pump in the centre ; Mr. Buckram, not growing corn, 
 could afford to keep pigeons.
 
 10 
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 PETEU LEATHER. 
 
 MR. riFuNGE NEGOCIATINO WlTlf BUCKKAM. 
 
 Nothing bespeaks tlie character ol a flealcr's trade more tlian 
 the servants and hanr^ers-on of the establishment. The civiler 
 ill manner, aud the better they are "put on," the higher the 
 standinp; of the master, and the better the stamp of the horses. 
 
 Those about Mr. Buckram's were of a very shady order. Dirty-
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPOETING TOUR. 11 
 
 shirted, sloggeriaj:^, ba.c'gy-breeched, slangey-gaitered fellows, with 
 the word " gin " indelibly imprinted on their faces. Peter 
 Leather, the head man, was one of the fallen angels of servitude. 
 He had once driven a duke — the Duke of Dazzleton — having 
 nothing whatever to do but dress himself and climb into his well- 
 indented richly -fringed throne, with a helper at each horse's head 
 to " let go " at a nod from his broad laced three-cornered hat. 
 Then having got in his cargo (or rubbish, as he used to call them), 
 he would start oft' at a pace that was truly terrific, cutting out 
 this vehicle, shooting past that, all but grazing a third, anathe- 
 matising the 'busses, and abusing the draymen. We don't know 
 how he might be with the queen, but he certainly drove as though 
 lie thought nobody had any business in the street while the 
 Duchess of Dazzleton wanted it. The duchess liked going fast, 
 and Peter accommodated her. The duke jobbed his horses and 
 didn't care about pace, and so things might have gone on very 
 comfortably, if Peter one afternoon hadn't run his pole into the 
 panel of a very plain but very neat yellow barouche, passing the 
 end of Xew Bond-street, which having nothing but a simple crest 
 — a stag's head on the panel — made him think it belonged to 
 some bulky cit, taking the air with his rib, but who, unfortunately, 
 turned out to be no less a person than Sir Giles Nabem, Knight, 
 the great police magistrate, upon one of whose myrmidons in 
 plain clothes, who came to the rescue, Peter committed a most 
 violent assault, for which unlucky casualty his worship furnished 
 him with rotatory occupation for his fat calves in the " H. of C.,'* 
 as the clerk shortly designated the House of Correction. Thither 
 Peter went, and in lieu of his lace-bedaubed coat, gold-gartered 
 plushes, stockings, and buckled shoes, he was dressed up in a suit 
 of tight-fitting yellow and black-striped worsteds, that gave him 
 the appearance of a wasp without wings. Peter Leather then 
 tumbled regularly down the staircase of servitude, the greatness 
 of his fall being occasionally broken by landing in some iufericr 
 place. From the Duke of Dazzleton's, or rather from the tread- 
 mill, he went to the Marquis of Mammon, whom he very soon left 
 because he wouldn't wear a second-hand wig. From the marquis 
 he got hired to the gi'cat L'isli Earl of Coarsegab, Avho expected hin^ 
 to Avash the carriage, wait at table, and do other incidentals never 
 contemplated l)y a London coachman. Peter threw this place up 
 with indignation on being told to take the letters to the post. 
 He then lived on his "means " for a while, a thing that is much 
 finer in theory than in practice, and having about exhausted his 
 substance and placed the bulk of his apparal in safe keeping, he 
 condescended to take a place as job coachman in a livery-stable — 
 a " horses let by the hour, day, or month" one, in which he enacted 
 as many characters, at least made as many difierent appearances.
 
 12 3IB. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUE. 
 
 us the late Mr. Mathews used to do in his celebrated "At Homes." 
 One day Peter would be seen ducking under the mews' entrance 
 in one of those greasy, painfully well-brushed hats, the certain 
 precursors of soiled linen and seedy, most seedy-covered buttoned 
 coats, that would puzzle a conjuror to say whether they were 
 black, or grey, or olive, or invisible green turned visible brown. 
 Then another day he might be seen in old Mrs. Gadabout's sky- 
 blue livery, with a tarnished, gold-laced hat, nodding over his nose ; 
 and on a third he would shine forth in Mrs. Major-General 
 Flareup's cockadcd one, with a worsted shoulder-knot, and a much 
 over-daubed light drab livery coat, with crimson inexpressibles, so 
 tight as to astonish a beholder how he ever got into them. 
 Humiliation, however, has its limits as well as other things ; and 
 Peter having been invited to descend from his box — alas ! a regu- 
 lar country patent leather one, and invest himself in a Quaker- 
 collared blue coat, with a red vest, and a pair of blue trousers with 
 a broad red stripe down the sides, to drive the Honourable old Miss 
 Wrinkleton, of Harley-street, to Court in a " one oss pianoforte- 
 case," as he called a Clarence, he could stand it no longer, and, 
 chucking the nether garments into the fire, he rushed frantically 
 up the area-steps, mounted his box, and quilted the old crocodile 
 of a horse all the way home, accompanying each cut with an 
 imprecation such as "me make a guy of myself!" (whip) "me 
 put on sich things ! " (whip, whip) " me drive down Sin Jimses- 
 
 street ! " (whip, whip, whip), " Pel see her fust ! " (whip, whip, 
 
 whip), cutting at the old horse just as if he was laying it into Miss 
 Wrinkleton, so that by the time he got liome he had established 
 a considerable lather on the old nag, whicli his master resenting 
 a row ensued, the sequel of which may readily be imagined. 
 After assisting Mrs. Clearstarch, the Kilburn laundress, in getting 
 in and taking out her washinir, for a few weeks, chance at last 
 landed him at Mr. Benjamin Buckram's, from whence he is now 
 about to be removed to become our hero Mr. Sponge's Sancho 
 Panza, in his fox-hunting, fortune-hunting career, and disseminate 
 in remote parts his doctrines of the real honour and dignity of 
 servitude. Now to the inspection. 
 
 Peter Leather, having a peep-hole as well as his master, on 
 seeing Mr. Sponge arrive, had given himself an extra rub over, 
 and covered his dirty shirt Avith a clean, well-tied, white kerchief, 
 and a whole coloured scarlet waistcoat, late the property of one of 
 his noble employers, in hopes that Sponge's visit might lead to 
 something. Peter was about sick of the suburbs, and thought, of 
 course, that he couldn't be worse off than where he Avas. 
 
 " Here's Mr. Sponge wants some osses," observed Mr. Buckram, 
 as Leather met them in the middle of the little yard, and brought 
 his right arm round with a sort of mihtary swing to his forehead ;
 
 3IE. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUlt. 13 
 
 "what 'ave we in ? " continued Buckram, with the air of a man with 
 so many horses that he didn't know what were in and what were out. 
 
 " Vy we 'ave Rumbleton in," rephed Leather, thoughtfully, strok- 
 ing down his hair as he spoke, " and we 'ave Jack o'Lanthorn in, and 
 we 'ave the Camel in, and there's the little Hirish oss with the sprig 
 tail — Jack-a-Dandy, as I calls him, and the Flyer will be in to- 
 night, he's jest out a hairing, as it were, with old Mr. Callipash." 
 
 " Ah, Kumbleton Avon't do for Mr. Sponge," observed Buck- 
 ram, thoughtfully, at the same time letting go a tremendous 
 avalance of silver down his trouser pocket, "Rumbleton won't do," 
 repeated he, " nor Jack-a-Dandy nouther." 
 
 " Why, I wouldn't commend neither on 'em," replied Peter, 
 taking his cue from his master, "only ven you axes me vot thcre'Li 
 in, you knows vy I must give you a cor-vQct answer, in course." 
 
 "In course," nodded Buckram. 
 
 Leather and Buckram had a good understanding in the lying 
 line, and had fallen into a sort of tacit arrangement, that if tlie 
 former was staunch about the horses he was at liberty to make 
 the best terms he could for himself. Whatever Buckram said, 
 Leather swore to, and they had established certain signals and 
 expressions that each understood. 
 
 " I've an unkimmon nice oss," at length observed ]\Ir. Buck- 
 ram, with a scrutinising glance at Sponge, "and an oss in hevery 
 respect worry like your work, but he's an oss I'll candidly state, I 
 wouldn't put in every one's 'ands, for, in the fust place, he's wery 
 walueous, and in the second, he requires an ossman to ride ; how- 
 somever, as I knows that you can ride, and if you doesn't mind 
 taking my 'ead man," jerking his elbow at Leather, " to look 
 arter him, I wouldn't mind 'commodatin' on you, prowided we 
 can 'gree upon terjns." 
 
 " Well, let's sec him," interrupted Sponge, " and we can talk 
 about terras after." 
 
 "Certainl}', sir, certainl}-," replied Buckram, again letting loose 
 a reaccumulated rush of silver down his pocket. "Here, Tom ! 
 Joe ! Harry ! where's Sam ? " giving the little tinkler of a bell a 
 pull as he spoke. 
 
 " Sam be in the straw 'ouse," replied Leather, passing through a 
 stable into a wooden projection beyond, where the gentleman in 
 question was enjoying a nap. 
 
 " Sam ! " said he, " Sam ! " repeated he, in a louder tone, as he 
 saw the object of his search's nose popping through the midst of 
 the straw. 
 
 " ^Yllat now ! " exclaimed Sam, starting up, and looking wildly 
 around; "what now?" repeated he, rubbing his eyes with the 
 backs of his hands. 
 
 " Get out Ercles," said Leather, solio voce.
 
 14 MB. SPONGE'S SPOETING TOUR. 
 
 The lad was a mere stripling — some fifteen or sixteen years, 
 perhaps — tall, slight, and neat, with dark hair and eyes, and was 
 dressed in a brown jacket — a real boy's jacket, without laps, white 
 cords, and top-boots. It was his business to risk his neck and 
 limbs at all hours of the day, on all sorts of horses, over any sort of 
 place that any person chose to require him to put a horse at, and 
 this he did with the daring pleasure of youth as yet undaunted by 
 any serious fall. Sam now bestirred himself to get out the horse. 
 The clambering of hoofs presently announced his approach. 
 
 Whether Hercules was called Hercules on account of his amaz- 
 ing strength, or from a fanciful relationship to the famous horse 
 of that name, we know not ; but his strength and his colour 
 would ftivour either supposition. He was an immense, tall, power- 
 ful, dark brown, sixteen hands horse, with an arched neck and 
 crest, well set on, clean, lean head, and loins that looked as if they 
 could shoot a man into the next county. His condition was 
 perfect. His coat lay as close and even as satin, with cleanly 
 developed muscle, and altogether he looked as hard as a cricket- 
 ball. He had a famous switch tail, reaching nearly to his hocks, 
 and making him look less than he would otherwise have done. 
 
 Mr. Sponge was too well versed in horse-flesh to imagine that 
 such an animal would be in the possession of such a third-rate 
 dealer as Buckram, unless there was something radically wrong 
 about him, and as Sam and Leather were paying the horse those 
 stable attentions that always precede a show out, Mr. Sponge 
 settled in his own mind that the observation about his requiring a 
 iiorseman to ride him, meant that he Avas vicious. Nor was ho 
 ■wrong in his anticipations, for not all Leather's whistlings, or 
 Sam's endearings and watchings, could conceal the sunken, scowl- 
 ing eye, that as good as said, " you'd better keep clear of me." 
 
 ^Ir. Sponge, however, was a dauntless horseman. What man 
 dared he dared, and as the horse stepped proudly and freely out of 
 the stable, Mr. Sponge thought he looked very like a hunter. Nor 
 were Mr. Buckram's laudations wanting in the animal's behalf. 
 
 " There's an 'orse ! " exclaimed he, drawing his right hand out 
 of his trouser pocket, and flourishing it towards him. " If that 
 'orse were down in Leicestersheer," added he, " he'd fetch three 
 'under'd guineas. Sir Richard would 'ave him in a minnit — that 
 Im tvould ! " added he, with a stamp of his foot as he saw the 
 animal beginning to set up his back and wince at the approach of 
 the lad. (AVe may here mention by way of parenthesis, that Mr. 
 Buckram had brought him out of Warwicksheer for thirty pounds, 
 where the horse had greatly distinguished himself, as Avell by kick- 
 ing off sundry scarlet swells in the gaily-thronged streets of Lea- 
 mington, as by running away with divers others over the wide- 
 stretching grazing grounds of Southam and Dunchurch.)
 
 31E. SPONGE'S SFOBTING TOUR. 15 
 
 But to our story. The horse now stood staring on view : fire 
 in his eye, and vigour in his every Hmb. Leather at his head, the 
 lad at his side, Sponge and Buckram a Uttle on the left. 
 
 " W — h — — a — a — j/, ray man, iv — h — o—a — a — y," continued 
 Mr. Buckram, as a liberal show of the white of the eye was fol- 
 lowed by a little wince and hoist of tiie hind quarters on the 
 nearer approach of the lad. 
 
 " Look sharp, hoi/,''' said he, in a very different tone to the 
 soothing one in which he had just been addressing the horse. 
 The lad lifted up his leg for a hoist, Leather gave him one as 
 quick as thought, and led on the horse as the lad gathered up his 
 reins. They then made for a large held at the back of the house, 
 with leaping-bars, hurdles, " on and offs," " ins and outs," all sorts 
 of fancy leaps scattered about. Having got him fairly in, and the 
 lad having got himself fairly settled in the saddle he gave the 
 horse a touch with the spur as Leather let go his head, and after a 
 desperate plunge or two started off at a gallop. 
 
 " He''s fres/i,''^ observed Mr. Buckram confidentially to Mr. 
 tSponge, '"he's fresh — wants work, in short — short of work — 
 wouldn't put every one on him — wouldn't put one o' your timid 
 cocknified chaps on him, for if ever he were to get the hupper 
 'and, vy I doesn't know as ow that we might get the hupper 'and 
 o' him, agen, but the playful rogue knows ven he's got a workman 
 on his back — ^^see how he gives to the lad though he's only fifteen, 
 and not strong of his hage nouther," continued Mr. Buckram, 
 " and I guess if he had sich a consternation of talent as you on 
 his back, he'd wery soon be as quiet as a lamb — not that he's 
 wicious — far from it, only play — full of play, I may say, though 
 to be sure, if a man gets spilt it don't argufy much whether it's 
 done from play or from wice." 
 
 During this time the horse was going through his evolutions, 
 hopping over this thing, popping over that, making as little of 
 every thing as practice makes them do. 
 
 Having gone through the usual routine, the lad now walked 
 the glowing coated snorting horse back to where the trio stood. 
 Mr. Sponge again looked him over, and still seeing no exception 
 to take to him, bid the lad get off, and lengthen the stirrups for 
 him to take a ride. That was tlie diiliculty. The first two 
 minutes always did it. Mr, Sponge, however, nothing daunted, 
 borrowed Sam's spurs, and making Leather hold the horse by the 
 head till he got well into the saddle, and then lead him on a bit ; 
 he gave the animal such a dig in both sides as fairly threw him off 
 his guard, and made him start away at a gallop, instead of stand- 
 ing and delivering, as was his wont. 
 
 Away My. Sponge shot, pulling him about, trying all his paces, 
 and putting him at all soi'ts of leaps.
 
 16 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 Emboldened by the nerve and dexterity displayed by Mr. 
 Sponge, Mr. Buckram stood meditating a further trial of his 
 equestrian ability, as he -watched him bucketing " Ercles " about. 
 Hercules had " spang-hewed " so many triers, and the hideous 
 contraction of his resolute back had deterred so many from 
 mounting, that Buckram had began to fear he would have to 
 place him in the only remaining school for incurables, the 'Bus. 
 Hack-horse riders are seldom great horsemen. The very fact of 
 their being hack-horse riders shows they are little accustomed to 
 horses, or they would not give the fee-simple of an animal for a 
 few weeks' work. 
 
 " I've a wonderful clever little oss," observed IMr. Buckram, as 
 Sponge returned with a slack rein and a satisfied air on the late 
 resolute animal's back. '^Little I can 'ardly call'im," continued 
 Mr. Buckram, " only he's low ; but you knows that the 'eight of 
 an oss has nothin' to do with his size. Xow this is a perfect dray- 
 oss in minature. An 'Arrow gent, lookin' at him t'other day 
 christen'd him ' Multum in Parvo.' But though he's so ier-men- 
 dous strong, he has the knack o' goin', specially in deep ; and if 
 you're not a-goin' to Sir Richard, but into some o' them plough 
 sheers (shires), I'd 'commend him to you." 
 
 " Let's have a look at him," replied Mr. Sponge, throwing his 
 ri"'ht-lcg over Hercules' head, and sliding from the saddle on to 
 the ground, as if lie were alighting from the quietest shooting pony 
 in tlie world. 
 
 All then was hurry, scurry, and scamper to get this second 
 prodigy out. Presently he appeared. Multum in Parvo certainly 
 was all that Buckram described him. A long, low, clean-headed, 
 clean-necked, big-hocked, chesnut, with a long tail, and great, 
 large, flat, white legs, without inark or blemish upon them. 
 Unlike Hercules, there was nothing indicative of vice or mischief 
 about him. Indeed, he was rather a sedate, meditative-looking 
 animal ; and, instead of the watchful, arms'-leugth sort of Avay 
 Leather and Co. treated Hercules, they jerked and punched Parvo 
 about as if he were a cow. 
 
 Still Parvo had his foibles. He was a resolute, head-strong 
 animal, that would go liis own Avay in spite of all the pulling and 
 hauling in the world. If he took it into his obstinate head to turn 
 into a particular field, into it he would be ; or against the gate- 
 post he would bump the rider's leg in a way that would make him 
 remember the diflerence of opinion between them. His was not a 
 fiery, hot-headed spirit, with object or reason for its guide, but 
 just a regular downright pig-headed sort of stupidity, that nobody 
 could account for. He had a mouth like a bull, and would walk 
 clean through a gate sometimes I'ather than be at the trouble of 
 rising to leap it ; at other times he would hop over it like a bird.
 
 Mil. SPONGE'S SFOBTIAG TOUR. 
 
 17 
 
 lie could not Lcafc Mr. Buckram's men, because they Averc always 
 on the look-out for objects of contention with sharp spur rovrcis, 
 ready to let into his sides the moment he began to stop ; but a 
 weak or a timid man on his back had uo more chance than lie 
 would on an elephant. If the horse chose to carry him into tlie 
 midst of the hounds at the meet, he would have him in — nay, he 
 would think nothing of upsetting the master himself in the 
 middle of the pack. Then the provoking part was, that the 
 obstiuate animal, after having done all the mischief, would just set 
 to to eat as if nothing had happened. After rolling a sportsman 
 in the mud, he would repair to the nearest hay-stack or grassy 
 bank, and be caught. He was now ten years old, or a Icetle more 
 ]ierhaps, and very wicked years some of them had been. His 
 adventures, his sellings and his returning, his lettings and his 
 unlettings, his bumpings and spillings, his smashings and crashings, 
 on the road, in the field, in single and in double harness, would 
 furnish a volume of themselves ; and in default of a more able 
 historian, we purpose blending his future fortune with that of 
 '• Ercles," in the service of our hero ]\Ir. Sponge, and his 
 accomplished groom, and undertaking the important narration of 
 tlicm ourselves. 
 
 CHAPTER lY 
 
 LAVERICK WELLS." 
 
 WI"] trust our opening chapters,, 
 aided by our friend Leech's 
 pencil, will have enabled our 
 readers to em.body such a Sponge 
 in their mind's eye as will assist 
 them in following us through 
 the com S3 of his peregrinations. 
 "We do not profess to have drawn 
 such a portrait as will raise the 
 same sort of Sponge in the minds 
 of all, but we trust we have given 
 such a general outline of style, 
 and indication of character, as an 
 ordinary knowledge of the world 
 will enable them to imagine a 
 good, pushing, free-and-easy sort 
 of man, wishing to be a gentleman 
 without knowing how. 
 Far more diflicult is the task of conveying to our readers such 
 
 c 
 
 Jin. THOMAS SI.OCTiOI.Anr.R, LATK MASTER OF 
 THE LAVERRK WELLS HOUNDS.
 
 18 Jl/JB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 iaformation as will enable them to form an idea of our hero's 
 ways and means. An accommodating world — especially the 
 female portion of it — generally attribute ruin to the racer, and 
 fortune to the fox-hunter ; but though Mr. Sponge's large losses 
 on the turf, as detailed by him to Mi'. Buckram on the occasion 
 of their deal or "job," would bring him in the category of the 
 unfortunates ; still that representation was nearly, if not altogether, 
 fabulous. That Mr. Sponge might have lost a trifle on the great 
 races of the year, we don't mean to deny, but that he lost such a 
 sum as eighteen hundred on the Derby, and seven on the Leger, 
 we are in a condition to contradict, for the best of all possible 
 reasons, that he hadn't it to lose. At the same time we do not 
 mean to attribute falsehood to Mr. Sponge — quite the contrary — 
 it is no uncommon thing for merchants and traders, men who 
 •' talk in thousands," to declare that they lost twenty thousand 
 by this, or forty thousand by that, simply meaning that they 
 didn't make it, and if Mr. Sponge, by taking the longest of the 
 long odds against the most wretched of the outsiders, might have 
 Avon the sums he named, he surely had a right to say he lost them 
 Avhen he didn't get them. 
 
 It never does to be indigenously poor, if we may use such a 
 term, and when a man gets to the end of his tether, he must have 
 something or somebody to blame rather than his own extravagance 
 or imprudence, and if there is no "rascally lawyer" who has 
 bolted with his title-deeds, or fraudulent agent who has misappro- 
 priated his funds, why then, railroads, or losses on the turf, or 
 joint-stock banks that have shut up at short notice, come in as 
 "the scapegoats. Very willing hacks they are, too, railways espe- 
 cially, and so frequently ridden, that it is no easy matter to 
 discriminate between the real and the fictitious loser. 
 
 But though we are able to contradict Mr. Sponge's losses on the 
 turf, we are sorry we are not able to elevate him to the riches the 
 character of a fox-hunter generally inspires. Still, like many men 
 of whom the common observation is, "nobody knows how he 
 lives," Mr. Sponge always seemed well to do in the world. There 
 was no appearance of want about him. He always hunted ; some- 
 times with five horses, sometimes with four, seldom with less than 
 three, though at the period of our introduction he had come down 
 to two. Nevertheless, those two, provided he could but make 
 them " go," were well calculated to do the work of four. And 
 hack horses, of all sorts, it may be observed, generally do double 
 the work of private ones ; and if there is one man in the world 
 better calculated to get the work out of them than another, that 
 man most assuredly is Mr. Sponge. And this reminds us, that 
 we may as well state that his bargain with Buckram was a sort of 
 jobbing deal. He had to pay ten guineas a month for each horse,
 
 IJR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 10 
 
 with a sort of sliding scale of prices if he chose to buy — the price 
 of " Ercles" (the big brown) being fixed at fifty, inclusive of hire 
 at the end of the first month, and gradnally rising according to 
 the length of time he kept him beyond that ; while " Multum in 
 Parvo," the resolute chesnut, was booked at thirty, with the right 
 of buying at five more, a contingency that Bnckram little 
 expected. He, we may add, had got him for ten, and dear he 
 thought him when he got him home. 
 
 The world was now all before Mr. Sponge where to choose ; and 
 not being the man to keep hack-horses to look at, we must be 
 setting him a-going. 
 
 " Leicestersheer swells," as Mr. Buckram would call them, with 
 their fourteen hunters and four hacks, will smile at the idea of a 
 man going from home to hunt with only a couple of "screws." 
 but Mr. Sponge knew what he was about, and didn't want any 
 one to counsel him. He knew there were places where a man can 
 follow up the effect produced by a red coat in the morning to 
 great advantage in the evening ; and if he couldn't hunt every 
 day in the week, as he could have wished, he felt he might fill uj) 
 his time perhaps quite as profitably in other ways. The ladies, to 
 do them justice, are never at all suspicious about men — on the 
 " nibble " — always taking it for granted, they are " all they could 
 Avish," and they know each other so well, that any cautionary 
 hints act rather in a man's favour than otherwise. Moreover, 
 hunting n:ien, as we said before, are all supposed to be rich, and as 
 veiy few ladies are aware that a horse can't hunt every day in the 
 week, they just class the whole "genus" fourteen-horse power 
 men, ten-horse power men, five-horse power men, two-horse power 
 men, together, and tying them in a bunch, label it " very rich,''' 
 and proceed to take measures accordingly. 
 
 Let us now visit one of the "strongholds" of fox and fortune- 
 hunting. 
 
 A sudden turn of a long, gently-rising, but hitherto uninterest- 
 ing road, brings the posting traveller suddenly upon the rich, 
 well-wooded, beautifully undulating vale of Fordingford, whose 
 fine green pastures are brightened with occasional gleams of a 
 meandering river, flowing through the centre of the vale. In the 
 i'ar distance, looking as though close upon the blue hills, though 
 in reality several miles apart, sundry spires and taller buildings 
 are seen rising above the grey mists towards which a straight, 
 undeviating, matter-of-fact line of railway passing up the right of 
 the vale, directs the eye. This is the famed Laverick Wells, the 
 resort, as indeed all watering-places are, according to Newspaper 
 iiccounts, of 
 
 " Knights and dames, 
 And all that wealth and lofty lineage claim."
 
 20 3IR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 At the period of which wo write, however, " Laverick Wells '* 
 was in great favour — it had never known such times. Every 
 liouse, every lodging, every hole and corner was full, and the 
 great hotels, which more resemble Lancashire cotton-mills than 
 English hostelries, were sending away applicants in the most oflF- 
 hand, indifferent way. 
 
 The Laverick Wells hounds had formerly been under the 
 management of the well-known Mr. Thomas Slocdolager, a hard- 
 riding, hard-bitten, hold-harding sort of sportsman, whose whole 
 soul was in the thing, and who would have ridden over his best 
 friend in the ardour of the chase. 
 
 In some countries such a creature may be considered an acqui- 
 sition, and so long as he reigned at the Wells, people made the 
 best they could of him, though it was painfully apparent to the 
 livery-stable keepers, and others, who had the best interest of the 
 place at heart, that such a red-faced, glovelcss, drab-breeched, 
 mahogany-booted buffer, who would throw off at the right time, 
 and who resolutely set his great stubbly-cheeked face against all 
 show meets and social intercourse in the field, was not exactly the 
 man for a civilised place. Whether time might have enlightened 
 ]\Ir. Slocdolager as to the fact, that continuous killing of foxes, 
 after fatiguingly long runs, was not the way to the hearts of the 
 Laverick Wells sportsmen, is unknown, for on attempting to 
 realise as fine a subscription as ever appeared upon paper, it 
 melted so in the process of collection, that what was realised was 
 hardly worth his acceptance ; so saying, in his usual blunt way, 
 that if he hunted a country at his own expense he would hunt 
 one that wasn't encumbered 'vith fools, he just stamped his little 
 wardrobe into a pair of old black saddle-bags, and rode out of 
 town without saying " tar, iar,'^ good-bye, carding, or P. P. C.-ing 
 anybody. 
 
 This was at the end of a season, a circumstance that consider- 
 ably mitigated the inconvenience so abrupt a departure might 
 have occasioned, and as one of the great beauties of Laverick 
 Wells is, that it is just as much in vogue in summer as in 
 winter, the inhabitants consoled themselves with the old aphorism, 
 that there is as " good fish in the sea as ever came out of it," and 
 cast about in search of some one to supply his place at as small 
 cost to themselves as possible. In a place so replete with money 
 and the enterprise of youth, little difficulty was anticipated, espe- 
 cially when the old bait of " a name " being all that was wanted, 
 "an ample subscription," to defray all expenses figuring in the 
 background, was held out.
 
 3IE. SPONGE'S SFOBTING TOUR. 
 
 21 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 :.IR. WATFLES. 
 
 AMOXG ii host of most meritorious 
 young- men — (any of -whom would 
 get up behind a bill for five hundred 
 ]iounds without looking- to sec that 
 it wasn't a thousand) — among a 
 host of most meritorious young 
 men wlio made their appearance at 
 Laverick Wells towards the close 
 (if ^\v. Slocdolager's reign, was Mr. 
 AVaflHes ; a most enterprising youth, 
 just on the verge of arriving of age, 
 and into the possession of a very 
 ccjnsiderable amount of charming 
 ready money. 
 iiilli^lilllillBffliiii! ll'l I I'm V\ AVere it not that a "proud aristo- 
 
 liHllllllliil'llUll^SVll \\ cracy," as Sir Eobert Peel called 
 
 them, have shown that they can get 
 over any little deficiency of birth if 
 tlicre is sufficiency of cash, we should 
 have thought it necessary to make 
 the liest of ]\Ir. AVaffles' pedigree, 
 l)ut the tide of opinion evidently 
 setting the other way, we shall jut-t 
 give it as we hnd it, and let the proud aristocracy reject him if they 
 like. Mr. Waffles' father, then, was either a great grazier or a gre:it 
 brazier — which, we are unable to say, " for a small drop of ink 
 having fallen," not " like dew," but like a black beetle, on the; 
 first letter of the word in our correspondent's communication, it 
 may do for either — but in one of which trades he made a "mint 
 of money," and latish on in life n.iarried a lady who hitherto had 
 filled the honouralde office of dairy-maid in his house ; she was a 
 fine handsome woman, and a year or two after the birth of thii5 
 their only child, he departed this life, nearer eighty than seventy, 
 leaving an " inconsolable," &.Q.. who unfortunately contracted 
 matrimony with a master pork-butcher, before she got the fine 
 fiattering white monument up, causing young Waffles to be 
 claimed for dry-nursing by that exjDcrt matron the High Court of 
 < 'hancery ; who, of course, had him properly educated — where, it is 
 innnaterial to relate, as we shall step on till we find him at college. 
 Our friend, having proved rather too vivacious for the Oxford 
 
 Mn. WAITLnS.
 
 22 ME. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUlt. 
 
 Dons, had been recommended to try the effects of the Laverick 
 Wells, or any other waters he liked, and had arrived with a couple 
 of hunters and a hack, much to the satisfaction of the neighbour- 
 ing master of hounds and his huntsman ; for Waffles had ridden 
 over and maimed more hounds to his own share, during the two 
 seasons he had been at Oxford, than that gentleman had been in 
 the habit of appropriating to the use of the whole university. 
 Corresponding with that gentleman's delight at getting rid of him 
 was Mr. Slocdolager's dismay at his appearance, for fully satisfied 
 that Oxford was the seat of fox-hunting as well as of all the other 
 arts and sciences, Mr. Waffles undertook to enlighten him and his 
 huntsman on the mysteries of their calling, and " Old Sloe," as he 
 was called, being a very silent man, while Mr. Waffles was a very 
 noisy one. Sloe was nearly talked deaf by him. 
 
 Mr. Waffles was just in the hey-day of hot, rash, youthful indis- 
 cretion and extravagance. He had not the slightest idea of the 
 value of money, and looked at the fortune he was so closely ap- 
 proaching as perfectly inexhaustible. His rooms, the most spacious 
 and splendid at that most spacious and splendid hotel, the " Impe- 
 rial," were filled with a profusion of the most useless but costly 
 articles. Jewellery without end, pictures innumerable, pictures that 
 represented all sorts of imaginary sums of money, just as they repre- 
 sented all sorts of imaginary scenes, but whose real worth or genuine- 
 ness would never be tested till the owner wanted i.0 "convert them." 
 
 Mr. Waffles was a "pretty man." Tall, slim, and slight, with 
 long curly light hair, pink and white complexion, visionary 
 whiskers, and a tendency to moustache that could best be seen 
 sideways. He had light blue eyes ; while his features generally 
 were good, but expressive of little beyond great good-humour. In 
 dress, he was both smart and various ; indeed, we feel a difficulty 
 in fixing him in any particular costume, so frequent and opposite 
 were his changes. He had coats of every cut and colour. Some- 
 times he was the racing man with a bright-button'd Newmarket 
 brown cut-away, and white-cord trousers, with drab cloth-boots ; 
 anon, he would be the officer, and shine forth in a fancy forage 
 cap, cocked jauntily over a profusion of well-waxed curls, a richly- 
 braided surtout, with military over-alls strapped down over highly- 
 varnished boots, whose hypocritical heels would sport a pair of 
 large rowelled, long-necked, ringing, brass spurs. Sometimes he 
 was a Jack tar, with a little glazed hat, a once-round tye, a checked 
 vshirt, a blue jacket, roomy trousers, and broad-stringed pumps ; 
 and, before the admiring ladies had well digested him iii that 
 dress, he would be seen cantering away on a long-tailed white 
 barb, in a pea-green duck-hunter, with cream-coloured leather and 
 rose-tinted tops. He was 
 
 " All things by turns, and nothing long."
 
 MK. WAFFLES, THE MASTER OF THE " LAVEKICK WELLS " HOrNDS. 
 
 IF. 22.
 
 JSIB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUU. 23 
 
 Such was the gentleman elected to succeed the silent, matter-of- 
 fact Mr. Slocdolager in the important office of Master of the 
 Lavcrick Wells Hunt ; and whatever may be the merits of either — 
 upon which we pass no opinion — it cannot be denied that they 
 were essentially different. Mr. Slocdolager was a man of few 
 words, and not at all a ladies' man. He could not even talk when 
 he was crammed with wine, and though he could hold a good 
 quantity, people soon found out they might just as well pour it 
 into a jug as down his throat, so they gave up asking him out. 
 He was a man of few coats, as well as of few words ; one on, and 
 one off, being the extent of his wardrobe. His scarlet was growing 
 plum-colour, and the rest of his hunting-costume has been already 
 glanced at. He lodged above Smallbones, the veterinary-surgeon. 
 in a little back street, where he lived in the quietest way, dining 
 when he came in from hunting, — dressing, or rather changing, 
 only when he was wet, hunting each fox again over his brandy- 
 and-water, and bundling off to bed long before many of his 
 "field" had left the dining-room. He was little better than a 
 better sort of huntsman. 
 
 Waffles, as we said before, had made himself conspicuous 
 towards the close of Mr. Slocdolager's reign, chiefly by his dashing 
 costume, his reckless riding, and his off-hand way of blowing up 
 and slanging people. 
 
 Indeed, a stranger would have taken him for the master, a 
 delusion that was heightened by his riding with a formidable- 
 looking sherry-case, in the shape of a horn, at his saddle. Save 
 when engaged in sucking this, his tongue was never at fault. It 
 was jabber, jabber, jabber : chatter, chatter, chatter ; prattle, 
 prattle, prattle ; occasionally about something, oftener about 
 nothing, but in cover or out, stiff' country or open, trotting oi- 
 galloping, wet day or dry, good scenting day or bad. Waffles' 
 clapper never was at rest. Like all noisy chaps, too, he could 
 not bear any one to make a noise but himself. In furtherance of 
 this, he called in the aid of bis Oxfordshire rhetoric. He would 
 hoUoo at people, designating them by some peculiarity that he 
 thought he could wriggle out of, if necessary instead of attacking 
 them by name. Thus, if a man spoke, or placed himself where 
 AYafflcs thought he ought not to be (that is to say, any where 
 but Avhere Wallles was himself), he would exclaim, " Pray, sir, hold 
 your tongue ! — you, sir ! — no, sir, not you — the man that speaks 
 as if he had a brush in his throat ! " — or, " Do come away, sir ! — 
 you, sir ! — the man in the mushroom-looking hat ! " — or, " that 
 gentleman in the parsimonious boots ! " looking at some one with 
 very narrow tops. 
 
 Still he was a rattling, good-natured, harum-scarum fcllnw ; and 
 masterships uf hounds, memberships of Parliament — all e.\pensivc
 
 2t MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUIL 
 
 innnoiiey-making ofRces, — being tilings that most men are anxious 
 to foist 111)011 tiieir friends, Mr. AVaffles' big talk and interference 
 ill the field procured him the honour of the first refusal. Not that 
 lie was the man to refuse, for he jumped at the oiler, and, as he 
 ^\■ould be of age before the season came round, and Avould have 
 got all his money out of Chancery, he disdained to talk about ii 
 subscription, and boldly took the hounds as his own. He then 
 became a very important personage at Laverick Wells. 
 
 He had always been a most important personage among the 
 Jadies, but as the men couldn't marry him, those who didn't 
 want to borrow money of him, of course, ran him down. It used 
 to be, " Look at that dandified ass, "Waffles, I declare the sight of 
 him makes mc sick ; " or, " AVhat a barber's apprentice that fellow 
 is, with his ringlets all smeared with Macassar." 
 
 Now it was AVaffles this. Waffles that, "Who dines with 
 Waffles ? " " Waffles is the best fellow under the sun ! By Jingo, 
 I kuow no such man as Waffles ! " " Most deserving young 
 
 man 
 
 In arriving at this conclusion, their judgment was greatly 
 assisted by the magnificent way he went to work. Old Tom 
 Towler, the whip, who had toiled at liis calling for twenty long 
 years on fifty pounds and what he could " pick up," Avas advanced 
 to a hundred and fifty, with a couple of men under him. Instead 
 of riding worn-out, tumble-down, twenty-pound screws, he was 
 mounted on hundred-guinea horses, for which the dealers were to 
 liave a couple of hundred, irhen iliej) vjcre faid. Every thing was 
 in the same proportion. 
 
 ]\Ir. AVaffles' succession to the hunt made a great commotion 
 Timong the fair — many elegant and interesting young ladies, wht 
 had been going on the pious tack against the Ileverend Solomon 
 AVinkeycs, the popular bachelor-preacher of St. Margaret's, teach- 
 ing in his schools, distributing his tracts, and collecting the penny 
 subscriptions for his clothing club, now took to riding in ftm-tailcd 
 habits and feathered hats, and talking about leaping and hunting, 
 and riding over rails. Mr. AA^affles had a pound of hat-strings 
 sent him in a week, and mulfatees innumerable. Some, we are 
 sorry to say, worked him cigar-cases. He, in return, having 
 expended a vast of toil and ingenuity in inventing a " button," 
 now had several dozen of them worked up into brooches, which he 
 scattered about with a liberal hand. It was not one of your 
 matter-of-fact story-telling buttons — a fox -with " Tally-ho," or a 
 fox's head grinning in grim death — making a red coat look like a 
 niiniature butcher's shamble, but it w'as one of your queer twisting 
 lettered concerns, that may pass cither for a military button, or a 
 iiaval button, or a club button, or even for a livery button. The 
 'etters, two AY's, \vere so skilfully entwined, that even a composi-
 
 ME. SPONGE'S SPOUTING TOUR. 25 
 
 tor — and compositors are people who can read almost any thing — 
 M'ould have been puzzled to dccyphcr it. The letters were gilt, 
 riveted on steel, and the wearers of the button-brooches Avere very 
 soon dubbed by the non-recipients, " Mr. AVafflcs' sheep." 
 
 A fine button naturally requires a fine coat to put it on, and 
 many were the consultations and propositions as to what it should 
 be. Mr. Slocdolager had done nothing in the decorative depart- 
 ment, and many thought the iailurc of funds was a good de;d 
 attributable to that fact. ]\Ir. Waffles was not the man to lose an 
 opportunity of adding another costume to his wardrobe, and after 
 an infinity of trouble, and trials of almost all the colours of the 
 rainbow, he at length settled the following uniform, which, at 
 least, had the charm of novelty to recommend it. The morning, 
 or hunt-coat, was to be scarlet, with a cream-coloured collar and 
 cuffs ; and the evening, or dress coat, was to be cream-colour, 
 with a scarlet collar and culls, and scarlet silk facings and linings, 
 looking as if the wearer had turned the morning one inside out. 
 AVaistcoats, and other articles of dress, were left to the choice of 
 the wearer, experience having proved that they are articles it is 
 impossible to legislate upon with any effect. 
 
 The old ladies, bless their disinterested hearts, alone looked on 
 thf hound freak with other than feelings of approbation. 
 
 TiiL-y thought it a pity he should take them. They wished he 
 mightn't injure himself — hounds very expensive things — led to 
 habits of irregularity — should be sorry to sec such a nice young 
 man as Mr. Waffles led astray — not that it would make any differ- 
 ence to them, hut (looking significantly at their daughters). 
 
 No fox had been hunted by more hounds than Watlles had been 
 liy the ladies ; but though he had chatted and prattled with fifty 
 fair maids — any one of whom he might have found difficult to 
 resist, if " pinned " single-handed by, in a country house, yet the 
 multiplicity of assailants completely neutralised each other, and 
 \erified the truth of the adage that there is " safety in a crowd." 
 
 If pretty, lisping Miss Wordsworth thought she had shot an 
 arrow home to his heart over night, a fresh smile and dart from 
 little Mary Ogleby's dark eyes extracted it in the morning, and 
 made him think of her till the commanding figure and noble air 
 of the Honourable Miss Letitia Amelia Susannah Jemimah de 
 Jenkins, in all the elegance of first-rate millinery and dressmaker- 
 ship, drove her completely from his mind, to be in turn displaced 
 by some one more bewitching. Mr. Waffles was reputed to be 
 made of money, and he went at it as though he thought it utterly 
 impossible to get througli it. He was greatly aided in his endea- 
 vours by the fact of its being all in the funds — a great convenience 
 to the spendthrift. It keeps him constantly in cash, and enables 
 him to "cut and come again," as quick as ever he likes. Land
 
 26 MR. SPONGE'S SPOETING TOUP. 
 
 is not half so accommodating ; neither is money on mortgage. 
 What with time spent in investigating a title, or giving notice to 
 " pay in," an inclustrions man wants a second loan by the time, or 
 perhaps before he gets the first. Acres are not easy of conversion, 
 and the mere fact of wanting to sell implies a deficiency some- 
 where. With money in the funds, a man has nothing to do but 
 lodge a power of attorney with his broker, and write up for four 
 or five thousand pounds, just as he would write to his bootmaker 
 lor four or five pairs of boots, the only difference being, that in all 
 l^robability the money would be down before the boots. Then, 
 with money in the funds, a man keeps up his credit to the far end 
 — the last thousand telling no more tales than the first, and mak- 
 ing just as good a show. 
 
 We are almost afraid to say what Mr. Waffles' means were, 
 but we really believe, at the time he came of age, that he had 
 100,000Z. in the funds, which were nearly at "par" — a term 
 expressive of each hundred being worth a hundred, and not eighty- 
 nine or ninety pounds as is now the case, W'hich makes a consider- 
 able difference in the melting. Now a real bond fide 100,000/. 
 always counts as three in common parlance, which latter sum 
 would yield a larger income than gilds the horizon of the most 
 mercenary mother's mind, say ten thousand a-year, which we 
 believe is generally allowed to be " v — a — a — ry handsome." 
 
 No wonder, then, that Mr. Waffles was such a hero. Another 
 great recommendation about him was, that he had not had time 
 to be much plucked. Many of the young men of fortune that 
 appear upon town have lost half their feathers on the race-course 
 or the gaming-table before the ladies get a chance at them ; but 
 here was a nice, fresh-coloured youth, with all his downy verdure 
 full upon him. It takes a vast of clothes, even at Oxford prices, 
 to come to a thousand pounds, and if we allow four or five 
 thousand for his other extravagances, he could not have done 
 much harm to a hundred thousand. 
 
 Our friend, soon finding that he w^as " cock of the walk," had 
 no notion of exchanging his greatness for the nothingness of 
 London, and, save going up occasionally to see about opening the 
 flood-gates of his Jortune, he spent nearly the whole summer at 
 Laverick Wells. A fine season it was, too — the finest season the 
 Wells had ever known. When at length the long London season 
 closed, there w^as a rush of rank and fashion to the English water- 
 ing-places, quite unparalleled in the " recollection of the oldest 
 inhabitants." There were blooming widows in every stage of 
 grief and woe, from the becoming cap to the fashionable corset 
 and ball flounce — widows who would never forget the dear 
 deceased, or think of any other man — iinless he Jiad at leaH fiue 
 thousand a year. Lovely girls, who didn't care a farthing if the
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 27 
 
 man was " only handsome ; " and smiling mammas " egging them 
 on," who would look very different when they came to the horrid 
 £. s. d. And this mercantile expression leads ns to the observa- 
 tion that we know nothing so dissimilar as a trading town and a 
 watering-place. In the one, all is bustle, hurry, and activity ; 
 in the other, people don't seem to know what to do to get through 
 the day. The city and west-end present somewhat of the contrast, 
 but not to the extent of manufacturing or sea-port towns and water- 
 ing-places. Bathing-places are a shade better than watering- 
 places in the way of occupation, for people can sit staring at 
 the sea, counting the ships, or polishing their nails with a shell, 
 whereas, at watering-places, they have generally little to do but 
 stare at and talk of each other, and mark the progress of tiie day, 
 by alternately drinking at the wells, eating at the hotels, and 
 wandering between the library and the railway-station. The 
 ladies get on better, for where there are ladies there are always 
 line shops, and what between turning over the goods, and sweeping 
 the streets with their trains, making calls, and arranging partners 
 for balls, they get through their time very jjleasantly ; but what 
 is " life " to them is often death to the men. 
 
 CPIAPTER YJ. 
 
 TO LAVERICK AVELLS. 
 
 HE flattering accounts 
 Mr. Sponge read in 
 the papers of the 
 distinguished company 
 
 I assembled at Laverick 
 "VVells, together with 
 details of the princely 
 magnificence of the 
 
 fe wealthy commoner, Mr. 
 Waffles, wh.o appeared 
 to entertain all the 
 world at dinner after 
 each day's hunting, 
 made Mr. Sponge 
 think it would be a 
 very likely place to 
 LEATHER ON -ERCLF.S" AND PAHvo. suit lilm. Accordlngly, 
 
 thither he despatched 
 Mr. Leather with the redoubtable horses by the road, intending 
 
 >-^/s^-
 
 28 MB. SPONGE'S SFOBTING TOUR. 
 
 to follow in as many hours by the rail as it took tliem days to 
 trudge on foot. 
 
 Railways have helped, hunting as well as other things, and 
 enables a man to glide down into the grass " sheers," as Mr. 
 Euckram calls them, with as little trouble, and in as short a time 
 almost, as it took him to accomplish a meet at Croydon, or at the 
 JMagpies at Staines. But to our groom and horses. 
 
 Mr. Sponge was too good a judge to disfigure the horses with 
 the miserable, pulpy, weather-bleached, job-saddles and bridles of 
 *' livery," but had them properly turned out with well-made, 
 slightly-worn London ones of his own, and nice, warm brown 
 woollen rugs, below broadly-bound, blue-and-white-striped sheet- 
 ing, with richly-braided lettering, and blue and white cordings. 
 A good saddle and bridle makes a difference of ten pounds in tha 
 looks of almost any horse. There is no need because a man rides 
 n hack-horse to proclaim it to all the world ; a iact that few hack- 
 liorse letters seem to be aware of. Perhaps, indeed, they think to 
 advertise them by means of their inferior appointments. 
 
 Leather, too, did his best to keep up appearances, and turned 
 out in a very stud-groomish-looking, basket-buttoned, brown cut- 
 away, with a clean striped vest, ample white cravat, drab breeches 
 and boots, that looked as though they had brushed through a few 
 Inillfinches ; and so they had, but not with Leather's legs in them, 
 for he had bought them second-hand of a pad groom in distress. 
 His hands were encased in cat's-skin sable gloves, showing that he 
 was a gentleman who liked to be comfortable. Thus accoutred, 
 he rode down Broad Street at Laverick Wells, looking like a fine, 
 faithful old family servant, with a slight scorbutic afiection of the 
 nose. He had everything correctly arranged in true sporting 
 marching order. The collar-shanks were neatly coiled under the 
 headstalls, the clothing tightly rolled and balanced above the little 
 saddle-bags on the led horse, "Multum in Parvo's" back, with 
 the story-telling whip sticking through the roller. 
 
 Leather arrived at Laverick Wells just as the first shades of a 
 November night were drawing on, and anxious mammas and 
 careful chaperons were separating their fair charges from their 
 respective admirers and the dreaded night air, leaving the streets 
 to the gas-light men and youths '• who love the moon." The 
 girls having been withdrawn, licentious youths linked arms, and 
 bore down the broad j;<i;r6', quizzing this person, laughing at 
 that, and staring the pin-stickers and straw-chippers out of 
 countenance. 
 
 " Here's an arrival ! " exclaimed one. " Dash mj buttons, who 
 liave we here ? " asked another, as Leather hove in sight. " Thafs 
 not a bad looking horse," observed a third. " Bid him five poimds 
 for it for me," rejoined a fourth.
 
 Mil. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 29 
 
 " I say, old Bardolpli ! who do them 'ere quadrupeds belon,!^ 
 to ? " asked oue, takinj^ a scented cig-ar out of his mouth. 
 
 Leather, though as impudent a dog as any of them, and far 
 more than a match for the best of them at a tournament of slang, 
 being on his preferment, thought it best to be civil, and replied, 
 with a touch of his hat, that they were '' Mr. Sponge's." 
 
 "Ah ! old sponge biscuits ! — I hiow Jiim!^'' exclaimed a youth 
 in a Tweed wrapper. " My father married his aunt. Give my 
 love to him, and tell him to breakfast with me at six in the 
 morning — he ! he ! he ! " 
 
 " I say, old boy, that copper-coloured quadruped hasn't got all 
 liis shoes on before," squeaked a childish voice, now raised for the- 
 first time. 
 
 " Thai's mte?ided, gov' nor, ^^ growled Leather, riding on, indig- 
 nant at the idea of any one attempting to "sell him" with sucli 
 an old stable joke. So Leather passed on through the now 
 splendidly lit up streets, the large plate-glass windowed shops, 
 radiant with gas, exhibiting rich, many-coloured velvets, silver 
 gauzes, ribbons without end, fancy flowers, elegant shawls labelled 
 "Very chaste," "Patronised by Eoyalty," " Quite the go I" and 
 white kid-gloves in such profusion that there seemed to be a pair 
 for every person in the place. 
 
 Mr. Leather established himself at the "Eclipse Liv^ery and 
 Bait Stables," in Pegasus Street, or Peg Street, as it is generally 
 called, where he enacted the character of stud-groom to perfec- 
 tion, doing noticing himself, but seeing that others did his work, 
 and strutting consequentially with the corn-sieves at feeding time. 
 
 After Leather's long London experience, it is natural to suppose 
 that he would not be long in falling in with some old acquaintance 
 at a place like the "Wells," and the first night fortunately brought 
 him in contact with a couple of grooms wlio had had the honour 
 of his acquaintance when in all the radiance of his glass-blown 
 wigged prosperity as body-coachman to the Duke of Dazzleton, 
 and who knew nothing of the treadmill, or his subsequent career. 
 This introduction served with his own easy assurance, and the 
 deference country servants always pay to London ones, at ones 
 to give him standing, and it is creditable to the etiquette of servi 
 tude to say, that on joining the "Mutton-chop and Mealy 
 potato Club," at the Cat and Bagpipes, on the second night after 
 his arrival, the whole club rose to receive him on entering, and 
 placed him in the post of honour, on the right of the president. 
 
 He was very soon quite at home with the whole of them, and 
 ready to tell anything he knew of the great families in which ho 
 had lived. Of course, he abused the duke's place, and said he 
 had been obhged to give him "hnp"at last, "bein' quite an 
 unpossible man to live with ; indeed, his only wonder was, that he
 
 so MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR, 
 
 had been able to put hup with him so long-." The duchess was a 
 ** good cretur," he said, and, indeed, it was mainly on her account 
 that he stayed, but as to the duke, he was — every thing that was 
 bad, in short. 
 
 Mr. Sponge, on the other hand, had no reason to complain of 
 the colours in which his stud-gi'oom painted him. Instead of 
 being the shirtless strapper of a couple of vicious hack hunters. 
 Leather made himself out to be the general superintendent of the 
 opulent owner of a large stud. The exact number varied with the 
 number of glasses of grog Leather had taken, but he never had 
 less than a dozen, and sometimes as many as twenty hunters under 
 his care. These, he said, were planted all over the kingdom ; some 
 at Melton, to "'nnt with the Quorn ;" some at Northampton, to 
 " 'unt with the Pytchley ; " some at Lincoln, to " 'unt with Lord 
 'Enry;" and some at Louth, to "'unt with" — he didn't know 
 who, "What a fine flattering, well-spoken world this is, when the 
 speaker can raise his own consequence by our elevation ! One 
 would think that " envy, hatred, malice, and all uncharitablc- 
 ness," had gone to California. A weak-minded man might have 
 his head turned by hearing the description given of him by his 
 friends. But hear the same party on the running-down tack ! — 
 when either his own importance is not involved, or dire oflFencc 
 makes it worth his while "to cut off his nose to spite his face." 
 No one would recognise the portrait then drawn as one of the 
 same individual. 
 
 Mr. Leather, as we said before, was in the laudatory strain, but, 
 like many indiscreet people, he overdid it. Not content with 
 magnifying the stud to the liberal extent already described, he 
 must needs puff his master's riding, and indulge in insinuations 
 about " showing them all the way," and so on. Now nothing 
 " aggrawates " other grooms so much as this sort of threat, and 
 few things travel quicker than these sort of vapourings to their 
 masters' ears. Indeed, we can only excuse the lengths to which 
 Leather went, on the ground of his previous coaching career not 
 having afforded him a due insight into the delicacies of the 
 hunting stable ; it being remembered that he was only now acting 
 as stud-groom for the first time. However, be that as it may, he 
 brewed up a pretty storm, and the longer it raged the stronger it 
 became. 
 
 " Ord dash it ! " exclaimed young Spareneck, the steeple-chase 
 rider, bursting into Scorei-'s billiard-room in the midst of a full 
 gathering, who were looking on at a grand game of poule, " Ord 
 dash it ! there's a fellow coming who swears by Jove that he'll 
 take the sliine out of us all, ' a/t us all down ! ' " 
 
 " I'll j?/«// him for what he likes ! " exclaimed the cool, coatlcss 
 Captain Macer, striking his ball away for a cannon.
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUB. 31 
 
 " Hang 7/our play I " replied Spareneck ; *' you're always 
 thinking of play — it's hunting I'm talking of," bringing his heavy, 
 silver-mounted jockey-whip a crack down his leg. 
 
 " You donH say so ! " exclaimed Sam Shortcut, who had been 
 flattered into riding rather harder than he liked, and feared hi:5 
 pluck might be put to the test. 
 
 " What a ruffian ! "—(puff )— observed Mr. Waffles, taking his 
 cigar from his mouth as he sat on the bench, dressed as a racket- 
 player, looking on at the game, "he shalln't ride roughshod over 
 us." 
 
 " That he shalhi't! " exclaimed Caingey Thornton, Mr. Waffles's 
 2)7'emier toady, and constant trencher-man. 
 
 "/7? i'ide him!" rejoined Mr. Spareneck, jockeying his arms, 
 and flourishing his whip as if he was at work, adding : " his old 
 l)randy -nosed, frosty-whiskered trumpeter of a groom says he's 
 coming down by the five o'clock train. I vote we go and meet 
 him — invite him to a steeple-chase by moonlight." 
 
 " I vote we go and see him, at all events," observed Frank 
 Hoppey, laying dow^n his cue and putting on his coat, adding, " I 
 should like to see a man bold enough to beard a whole hunt — 
 especially such a hunt as ours.'''' 
 
 " Finish the game first," observed Captain ]Macer, who had 
 rather the best of it. 
 
 " No, leave the balls as they are till we comn back," rejoined 
 Xed Stringer ; " we shall be late. See, it's only ten to, now," 
 continued he, pointing to the timepiece above the fire ; whereupon 
 there was a putting away of cues, hurrying on of coats, seeking of 
 hats, sorting of sticks, and a general desertion of the room for the 
 railway station. 
 
 CHAPTER YII. 
 
 OUR HERO ARRIVES AT LAVERICK AVELL.t5. 
 
 Punctual to the moment, the railway train, conveying the 
 redoubtable genius, glid into the well-lighted, elegant little station 
 of Laverick Wells, and out of a first-class carriage emerged Mr. 
 Sponge, in a "down the road" coat, carrying a horse-sheet 
 wrapper in his hand. So small and insignificant did the station 
 seem after the gigantic ones of London, that Mr. Sponge thought 
 he had wasted his money in taking a first-class ticket, seeing there 
 was no one to know. Mr. Leather, who was in attendance, having 
 received him hat in hand, with all the deference due to the master 
 of twenty hunters, soon undeceived him on that point. Having
 
 32 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 eased him of liis wrapper, and iuqnirod about Iiis luggage, and 
 despatched a porter for a fly, tlicy stood together over the port- 
 manteau and hat-box till it arrived. 
 
 " How are the horses ? " asked Sponge. 
 
 "Oh, the osses be nicely, sir," replied Leather ; " they travelled 
 down uncommon well, and I've had 'em both removed sin they 
 com'd, so eitlicr on 'cm is fit to go i' the mornin' that you think 
 proper." 
 
 " Where are the hounds ? " asked our hero. 
 
 '"Ounds be at AVhirleypool AVindmill," replied Leather, "that's 
 about five miles ofl'." 
 
 " What sort of country is it ? " inquired Sponge. 
 
 " It be a stifRsh country from all accounts, with a good deal o' 
 water jumpin' ; that is to say, the Liffey runs twistin' and twiniu' 
 about 'it like a K'Eel." 
 
 " Then I'd better ride the brown, I think," observed Sponge, 
 after a pause : '' he has size and stride enough to cover anything, 
 if he will but face water." 
 
 " I'll warrant him for that," replied Leather ; '• only let the 
 Latchfords Avell into him, and he'll go." 
 
 "Are there many hunting-men down?" inquired our friend, 
 casual ly. 
 
 "Great many," replied Leather, "great many; some good 
 'ands among 'em too ; at least so say their grums, though I never 
 lielieve all these jockeys say. There be some on 'em 'ere now," 
 observed Leather, in an under tone, with a wink of his roguish 
 eye, and jerk of his head towards where a knot of them stood 
 eyeino- our friend most intently. 
 
 " Which ? " inquired Sponge, looking about the thinly-peopled 
 station. 
 
 "There," replied Leather, "those by the book-stall. That be 
 Mr. Waffles," continued he, giving his master a touch in the rib^ 
 as he jerked his portmanteau into a fly, " that be i/r. Waffles,''^ 
 repeated he, with a knowing leer. 
 
 " Which ! " inquired Mr. Sponge eagerly. 
 
 " The gent in the green wide-awake 'at, and big-button'd over- 
 coat," replied Leather, " jest now aspeakin' to the youth in the 
 tweed and all tweed ; that be Master Caingey Thornton, as big it 
 little blackguard as any in the place — lives upon AVaffles, and yet 
 never has a good word to say ibr him, no, nor for no one else — 
 and yet to 'ear the little devil a-talkin' to him, you'd really fancy 
 he believed there wasn't not never sich another man i' the world 
 as Waffles — not another sich rider — not another sich racket-player 
 — not another sich pigeon-shooter — not another sich fine chap 
 altogether." 
 
 " Has Thornton any horses ? " asked Sponge.
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SFORTING TOUR. 33 
 
 *' Not he," replied Ijcathcr, " not he, nor the gen'hnan next him 
 nouther — he, in tlie pilot coat, with the whip sticking out of the 
 pocket, nor the one in the coU'ee-colourecl 'at, nor none on 'em iu 
 fact ; " adding, " they all live on Squire Walfles — breakfost with 
 him — dine with him — drink with him — smoke with him— and if 
 any on 'em 'appen to 'ave an 'orse, why they sell to him, and so 
 ride for nothin' themselves," 
 
 "A convenient sort of gentleman," observed Mr. Sponge, 
 thinking he, too, might accommodate him. 
 
 The tly-man now touclv.'d his hat, indicative of a wish to be oflT, 
 having a flire waiting elsewhere. Mr. Sponge directed him to 
 proceed to the Brunswick Hotel, while, accompanied by Leather, 
 he proceeded on foot to the stables. 
 
 Mr. Leather, of course, had the valuable stud under lock and 
 key, with every crevice and air-hole well stuOed with straw, as if 
 they had been the most valuable horses in the world. Havini;- 
 produced the ring-key from his pocket, Mr. Leather opened tie 
 door, and having got his master in, speedily closed it, lest a breatli 
 of fresh air might intrude. Having lighted a lucifer, he turned 
 on the gas, and exhibited the blooming-coated horses, well littered 
 in straw, showing that he was not the man to pay four-and-twenty 
 shillings a week for nothing. Mr. Sponge stood eyeing them for 
 some seconds with evident approbation. 
 
 " If any one asks you about the horses, you can say they are 
 mine, you know," at length observed he, casually, with an emphasis 
 on the mine. 
 
 " In course,^'' replied Leather. 
 
 " I mean, you needn't say anything about their being johs'^ 
 observed Sponge, fearing Leather mightn't exactly " take." 
 
 " You trust me," replied Leather, with a knowing wink and a 
 jerk of his elbow against his master's side; ^' ijou trust, me," 
 repeated he, with a look as much as to sav, " we understand each 
 other." 
 
 " I've hadded a few to them, indeed," continued Leather, look- 
 ing to see how his master took it. 
 
 " Have yon ? " observed Mr. Sponge, inquiringly. 
 
 " I've made out that you've as good as twenty, one Avay or 
 another," observed Leather ;" some 'ere, some there, all over in 
 fact, and that yon jest run about the country, and 'unt with 
 'oever comes h'uppermost." 
 
 "Well, and what's the upshot of it all?" inquired Mr. 
 Sponge, thinking his groom seemed wonderfully enthusiastic in 
 his interest. 
 
 " Why, the hupshot of it is," replied Leather, " that the men are 
 nil mad, and the women all wild to see you. I hear at my club, 
 the Mutton Chop and j\Iealy Potato Club, which is frequented by
 
 34 MR. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUR. 
 
 flunkies as well as oTums, that there's notliin' talked of at dinner 
 or tea, but the terrible rich stranger that's a comin', and the gals 
 are all pulHng caps, Avho's to have the tirst chance." 
 
 " Indeed," observed Mr. Sponge, chuckling at the sensation he 
 Avas creating. 
 
 " The Miss Shapsets, there be five on 'em, have had a game at 
 fly loo for you," continued Leather, " at least so their little maid 
 tells me." 
 
 ''Fly ivliatV^ inquired Mr. Sponge. 
 
 " Fly loo," repeated Leather, "fly loo." 
 
 Mr. Sponge shook his head. For once he was not " fly." 
 
 " You sec," continued Leather, in explanation, " their father is 
 one of them tight-laced candlestick priests wot abhors all sorts of 
 wice and himmorality, and won't stand card playin', or gamblin', 
 or nothin' o' that sort, so the young ladies when they want to 
 settle a point, who's to be married first, or who's to have the 
 richest 'usband, play fly loo. 'Sposing it's at breakfast time, they 
 all sit quiet and sober like round the table, lookin' as if butter 
 wouldn't melt in their mouths, and each has a lump o' sugar on 
 lier plate, or by her cup, or somewhere, and whoever can 'tice a 
 fly to come to her sugar first, wins the wager, or whatever it is 
 they play for." 
 
 " Five on 'cm," as Leather said, being a hopeless number to 
 extract any good from, Mr. Sponge changed the subject by giving 
 orders for the morrow. 
 
 Mr. Sponge's appearance being decidedly of the sporting order, 
 and his horses maintaining the character, did not alleviate the agi- 
 tated minds of the sporting beholders, ruffled as they were with 
 the threatening, vapouring insinuations of the coachman-groom, 
 Peter Leather. There is nothing sets men's backs up so readily, 
 as a hint that any one is coming to take the "shine" out of them 
 across country. We have known the most deadly feuds engen- 
 dered between parties who never spoke to each other by adroit go- 
 betweens reporting to each what the other said, or, perhaps, did 
 not say, but what the "go-betweens" knew would so rouse the 
 British lion as to make each ride to destruction if necessary. 
 
 " He's a varmint-looking chap," observed Mr. Waffles, as the 
 party returned from the railway station ; " shouldn't wonder if he 
 can go — dare say he'll try — shouldn't wonder if he's floored — 
 awfully stiff country this for horses that are not used to it — most 
 likely his are Leicestershire nags, used to fly — won't do here. If 
 lie attempts to take some of our big banked bullfinches in his 
 stride, with a yawner on each side, will get into grief." 
 
 "Hang him," interrupted Caingey Thornton, "there are good 
 men in all countries." 
 
 "So there are ! " exclaimed Mr. Spareneck, the steeple-chase rider.
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SFOBTINQ TOUR. 35 
 
 "I've no notion of a fellow lordinp: it, because he happens to 
 come out of Leicestershire," rejoined Mr. Thornton. 
 
 " Nor I! " exclaimed Mr. Spareneck. 
 
 " Why doesn't he stay in Leicestershire ? " asked Mr. Hoppey, 
 now raisino; his voice for the first time — adding, " Who asked 
 him here ? " 
 
 " Who, indeed ? " sneered Mr. Thornton. 
 
 In this mood our friends arrived at the Imperial Hotel, where 
 there was always a dinner the day before hunting — a dinner that, 
 somehow, was served up in Wx. Waflflcs's rooms, who was allowed 
 the privilege of paying for all those who did not pay for them- 
 selves ; rather a considerable number, we believe. 
 
 The best of everything being good enough for the guests, and 
 profuse liberality the order of the day, the cloth generally disap- 
 peared before a contented audience, whatever humour they might 
 have sat down in. As the least people can do who dine at an inn 
 and don't pay their own shot, is to drink the health of the man 
 who does pay, Mr. Waffles was always lauded and applauded to 
 the skies — such a master — such a sportsman — such knowledge — 
 such science — such a pattern-card. On this occasion the toast 
 was received with extra enthusiasm, for the proposer, Mr. Caingey 
 Thornton, who was desperately in want of a mount, after going 
 the rounds of the old laudatory course, alluded to the threatened 
 vapourings of the stranger, and expressed his firm belief that he 
 would " meet with his match," a " taking of the bull by the 
 horns," that met with very considerable favour from the wine- 
 flushed i^arty, the majority of whom, at that moment, made very 
 " small," in their own minds, of the biggest fence that ever was 
 seen. 
 
 There is nothing so easy as going best pace over the mahogany. 
 
 Mr. Waffles, who was received with considerable applause, and 
 patting of the table, responded to the toast in his usual felicitous 
 style, assuring the company that he lived but for the enjoyment of 
 their charming society, and that all the money in the world would 
 be useless, if he hadn't Laverick Wells to spend it in. With 
 regard to the vapourings of a " certain gentleman," he thought it 
 would be very odd if some of them could not take the shine out of 
 him, observing that " Brag " was a good dog, but " Holdfast " 
 was a better, with certain other sporting similes and phrases, all 
 indicative of showing fight. The steam is soon got up after 
 dinner, and as they were all of the same mind, and all agreed that 
 a gross insult had been ofiered to the hunt in general, and them- 
 selves in particular, the only question was, how to revenge it. At 
 last they hit upon it. Old Slocdolager, the late master of the 
 hunt, had been in the habit of having Tom Towler, the huntsman, 
 to his lodgings the night before hunting, where, over a glass of 
 
 D 2
 
 36 ME. SFONGE'S SPORTING TOUB. 
 
 gin-and-water, they discnssed the doings of the day, and the 
 general nrrangenients of the country. 
 
 Mr. Waflles had had him in sometimes, though for a different 
 purpose— at least, in reality for a different purpose, though he 
 always made hunting the excuse for sending for him, and that 
 purpose was, to try how many silver fox's heads fidl of port wine 
 Tom could carry off without tumbling, and the old fellow being 
 rather liquorishly inclined, had never made any objection to the 
 experiment. Mr. Waffles now wanted him, to endeavour, under 
 the mellowing influence of drink, to get him to enter cordially 
 into what he knew would be distasteful to the old sportsman's 
 feelings, namely, to substitute a "drag" for the legitimate find 
 and chase of the fox. Fox-hunting, though exciting and ex- 
 hilarating at all times, except, ])erhaps, when the " fallows are 
 flying," and the sjiortsman feels that in all jirobability the farther 
 he goes the further he is left behind — Fox-hunting, we say, 
 though exciting and exhilarating, does not, when the real truth is 
 spoken, present such conveniences for neck-bveaking, as people, 
 who take their ideas from Mr. Ackcrmann's print-shop window, 
 imagine. That there are large places in most fences is perfectly 
 true ; but that there are also weak ones is also the fact, and a 
 practised eye catches up the latter uncommonly quick. Therefore, 
 though a madman may ride at the big places, a sane man is not 
 expected to follow ; and even should any one be tempted so to do, 
 the madman having acted pioneer, will have cleared the way, or at 
 all events proved its practicability for the follower. 
 
 In addition to this, however, hounds having to smell as they go, 
 cannot travel at the ultra steeple-chase pace, so opposed to " look- 
 ing before you leap," and so conducive to danger and difficulty, 
 and as going even at a fair pace depends upon the state of the at- 
 mosphere, and the scent the fox leaves behind, it is evident that 
 where mere daring hard riding is the object, a fox-hunt cannot be 
 depended upon for furnishing the necessary accommodation. A 
 drag-hunt is quite a different thing. The drag can be made tO' 
 any strength ; enabling hounds to run as if they were tied to it, 
 and can be trailed so as to bring in all the dangerous places in the- 
 country with a certain air of plausibility, enabling a man to look 
 round and exclaim, as he crams at a bullfinch or brook, " he's 
 leading us over a most desperate country — never saw such fencing 
 in all my life ! " Drag-hunting, however, as we said before, is 
 not popular with sj)ortsmen, certainly not with huntsmen, and 
 though our friends with their wounded feelings determined to 
 have one, they had yet to smooth over old Tom to get him to 
 come into their views. That was now the difficulty.
 
 MB. SFOXGJ^a SFOIiTlNG TOUli. 
 
 37 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 OI-I) TO.AI TOWl,!^,!;. 
 
 TOI IX lIUNTlXt. HAlilLlMl-.XT,^. 
 
 HERE are few more 
 difficult persons to 
 identify than a 
 huntsman iu un- 
 dress, and of all 
 queer ones perhaps 
 old Tom Towler 
 was the queerest, 
 Tom in his person 
 fiu'nishiHl an apt 
 illustration of the 
 rii^ht appropriation 
 of talent and the 
 fitness of things, 
 for he would neither 
 have made a groon:, 
 nor a coachman, ncr 
 a postilion, nor a iootman. nor a ploughman, nor a mechanic, nor 
 anything we know of, and yet he was first-rate as a huntsman. 
 He was too weak for a groom, too small for a coachman, too ugly 
 for a postilion, too stunted for a footman, too light for a plough- 
 man, too useless-looking for almost anything. 
 
 Any one looking at him in " mufti " would exclaim, " what an 
 unfortunate object I " and perhaps offer him a penny, while in his 
 hunting habiliments lords would hail him with, " AVell, Tom, liow 
 are you ?" and l)aronets ask him "how he was ? '' Commoners 
 felt honoured by his countenance, and yet, but for hunting, Tom 
 Avould have been wasted — a cypher — an inapplicable sort of man. 
 Old Tom, in his scarlet coat, black cap, and boots, and Tom in his 
 undress — say, shirt-sleeves, shorts, grey stockings and shoes, bore 
 about the same resemblance to each other that a three months 
 dead jay nailed to a keepers lodge bears to the bright-plumaged 
 bird when flying about. On horseback, Tom was a cockey, wiry- 
 looking, keen-eyed, grim-visaged, hard-bitten little fellow, sitting 
 as though he and his hoi'se were all one, while on foot he was the 
 most shambling, scambling, crooked-going crab that ever was 
 seen. He was a complete mash of a man. He had been scalped 
 by the branch of a tree, his nose knocked into a thing like a 
 button by the kick of a horse, his teeth gent down his throat by a
 
 38 MR. SPONGE'S SFOllTING TOUB. 
 
 iall, his collar-bone fractured, his left leg broken and his right arm 
 ditto, to say nothing of damage to his ribs, fingers, and feet, and 
 having had his face scarified like pork by repeated brushings 
 through strong thorn fences. 
 
 But we will describe him as he appeared before Mr. Waffles, and 
 the gentlemen of the Laverick AVells Hunt, on the night of ]Mr. 
 Sponge's arrival. Tom's spirit being roused at hearing the boast- 
 ings of Mr. Leather, and thinking, perhaps, his master might 
 have something to say, or thinking, perhaps, to partake of the 
 eleemosynary drink generally going on in large houses of public 
 entertainment, had taken up his quarters in the bar of the 
 " Imperial," where he was attentively perusing the " meets " in 
 BeWs Life, reading how the Atherstone met at Gopsall, the Bedalo 
 at Hornby, the Cottesmore at Tilton Wood, and so on, with an 
 industry worthy of a better cause ; for Tom neither knew country, 
 nor places, nor masters, nor hounds, nor huntsmen, nor anything, 
 though he still felt an interest in reading where they were going 
 to hunt. Thus he sat Avith a quick ear, one of the few undamaged 
 organs of his body, cocked to hear if Tom Towler was asked for ; 
 when, a waiter dropping his name from the landing of the stair- 
 case to the hall porter, asking if anybody had seen anything of 
 him, Tom folded up his paper, put it in his pocket, and passing 
 his hand over the few straggling bristles yet sticking about his 
 bald head, proceeded, hat in hand, upstairs to his master's 
 room. 
 
 His appearance called forth a round of view halloos ! Who-hoops ! 
 Tally-ho's ! Hark forwards ! amidst which, and the waving of 
 napkins, and general noises, Tom proceeded at a twisting, limping, 
 halting, sideways sort of scramble up the room. His crooked legs 
 didn't seem to have an exact understanding with his body which 
 way they were to go ; one, the right one, being evidently inclined 
 to lurch off to the side, while the left one went stamp, stamp, 
 stamp, as if equally determined to resist any deviation. 
 
 At length he reached the lop of the table, where sat his master, 
 with the glittering Fox's head before him. Having made a sort of 
 scratch bow, Tom proceeded to stand at ease, as it were, on the 
 left leg, while he placed the late recusant right, which was a trifle 
 shorter, as a prop behind. No one, to look at the little wizen'd 
 old man in the loose dark frock, baggy striped waistcoat, and patent 
 cord breeches, extending below where the calves of his bow legs 
 ought to have been, would have supposed that it was the noted 
 huntsman and dashing rider, Tom Towler, whose name was celebrated 
 throughout the country. He might have been a village tailor, or 
 sexton, or barber ; anything but a hero. 
 
 "Well, Tom," said Mr. Waffles, taking up the Fox's head, as 
 Tom came to anchor by his side, " how are you ? "
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 39 
 
 " Nicely, thank you, sir," replied Tom, giving the bald head 
 another sweep. 
 
 Mr. Waffles.—" What'll you drink ? " 
 
 Tom. — " Port, if you j^lease, sir." 
 
 " There it is for you, then," said Mr. Waffles, brimmiuf^ the 
 Fox's head, which held about the third of a bottle (an inn bottle at 
 least) and handing it to him. 
 
 " Gentlemen all," said Tom, passing his sleeve across his mouth, 
 and casting a side-long glance at the comf)any as he raised the 
 cup to drink their healths. 
 
 He quaffed it off at a draught. 
 
 " Well, Tom, and what shall we do to-morrow ? " asked Mr. 
 WaflQes, as Tom replaced the Fox's head, nose uppermost, ou the 
 table. 
 
 " Why, w^e must draw Ribston Wood fust, I 'spose," replied Tom, 
 " and then on to Bradwell-grove, unless you thought well of tryin' 
 Chesterton-common on the road, or " 
 
 " Aye, aye," interrupted AYafflcs, " I know all that ; but what I 
 want to know is, whether w'e can make sure of a run. Wc want 
 to give this great metropolitan swell a benefit. You know who 1 
 mean ? " 
 
 " The gen'lcman as is com'd to the Brunswick, I 'spose," 
 replied Tom ; " at least, as is comin', for I've not heard that he's 
 com'd yet." 
 
 " Oh, but he has,''' replied Mr. Waffles, " and I make no doubt 
 will be out to-morrow." 
 
 " S — — 0," obsci'ved Tom, in a long drawled note. 
 
 "Well, now ! do you think you can engage to give us a run ? " 
 asked Mr. AVaffles, seeing his huntsman did not seem inclined to 
 help him to his point. 
 
 " I'll do my best," replied Tom, cautiously running the many 
 contingencies through his mind. 
 
 " Take another drop of something," said Mr. Waffles, again 
 raising the Fox's head. '* What'll you have ? " 
 
 " Port, if you please," replied Tom. 
 
 "There," said Mr. Waffles, handing him another bumper; 
 " drink. Fox-hunting." 
 
 " Fox-huntinV' said old Tom, quaffing off the measure, as 
 before. A flush of life came into his weather-beaten face, just as 
 a glow of heat enlivens a blacksmith's hearth, after a toucli of the 
 bellows. 
 
 "You must never let this bumptious cock beat us," observed 
 Mr. Waffles. 
 
 " No — — 0," replied Tom, adding, " there's no fear of that." 
 
 "But he swears he ?n7/ .'" exclaimed Mr. Caingey Thornton. 
 "He swears there isn't a man shall come within a field of him."
 
 40 3IB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 " Indeed," observed Tom, with a twinkle of his Httlc bright 
 cjes. 
 
 " I tell you what. Tom," observed Mr. "WafflLS, " we must sarve 
 him out, somehow." 
 
 *' Oh ! he'll sarve hissel' out, in all probability," replied Tom ; 
 carelessly adding, " these boastin' chaps always do." 
 
 "Couldn't we contrive something," asked Mr. Waffles, "to draw 
 him out ? " 
 
 Tom was sileut. He was a hunting huntsman, not a riding 
 one. 
 
 " Have a glass of something," said Mr. Waffles, again appealing 
 to the Fox's head. 
 
 '•Thank you, sir, I've had a glass," replied Tom, sinking the 
 second one. 
 
 " What will you have ? " asked Mr. Waffles. 
 
 " Port, if you please," replied Tom. 
 
 " Here it is," rejoined Mr. Waffles, again handing him the 
 measure. 
 
 Up went the cup, over went the contents ; but Tom set it down 
 with a less satisfied face than before. He had had enough. The 
 left log prop, too, gave way, and he was nearly toppling on the 
 table. 
 
 Having got a chair for the dilapidated old man, they again 
 essayed to get him into their line with better success than before. 
 Having plied him well with port, they now plied him well with 
 the stranger, and what with the one and the other, and a glass or 
 two of brandy-and-watci", Tom became very tractable, and it was 
 ultimately arranged that they should have a drag over the very 
 stiffest parts of the country, wherein all who liked should take 
 part, but that Mr. Caingcy Thornton and Mr. Spareneck should be 
 especially deputed to wait upon Mr. Sponge, and lead him into 
 mischief. Of course it was to be a " profound secret," and 
 equally, of course, it stood a good chance of being kept, seeing how 
 many were in it, the additional number it would have to be com- 
 municated to before it could be carried out, and the happy state 
 old Tom was in for arranging matters. Nevertheless, our friends 
 at the " Imperial " congratulated themselves on their success ; and 
 after a ^qv,' minutes spent in discussing old Tom on his with- 
 drawal, the party broke up, to array themselves in the splendid 
 dress uniform of the " Hunt," to meet again at Miss Jumnheavy's 
 ball.
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SFOUTING TOUM. 
 
 41 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 TPIE 3IEET. 
 
 ARLY 
 
 ENJOYING THE ■SnEW. 
 
 to bed and early to rise 
 being among Mr. Hpouge's 
 maxims, he was enjoying the 
 view of the pantiles at the 
 back of his hotel shortly after 
 daylight the next morning, a 
 time about as difficult to fix 
 in a November day as the age 
 of a lady of a " certain age." 
 It takes even an expeditious 
 dresser ten minutes or a 
 quarter of an hour extra the 
 first time he has to deal with 
 l)oots and breeches ; and ]\Ir. 
 Sponge being quite a jiattern 
 card in his peculiar line, of 
 course took a good deal more 
 to get himself " up." 
 
 An accustomed eye could 
 see a more tlian ordinary stir in the streets that morning. 
 Riding-mastei's and their assistants might be seen going along 
 with strings of saddled and side-saddled screws ; flys began to roll 
 iit an earlier hour, and natty tigers to kick about in buckskins 
 prior to deparling with hunters, good, bad, and indifferent. 
 
 Each man had told his partner at Miss Jumpheavy's ball of the 
 capital trick they were going to play the stranger ; and a desire 
 to see the stranger, far more than a desire to see the trick, caused 
 many fair ones to forsake their downy couches who had much 
 better have kept them. 
 
 The world is generally very complacent with regard to strangers, 
 so long as they are strangers, generally making them out to be a 
 <2:ood deal better than they really are, and Mr. Spouge came in for 
 his full share of stranger credit. They not only brought all the 
 twenty horses Leather said he had scattered about to Laverick Wells, 
 hut made him out to have a house in Eaton-square, a yacht at 
 €owes, and a lirst-rate moor in Scotland, and some said a peerage in 
 expectancy. No wonder that he "drew," as theatrical people say. 
 Let us now sujjpose him breakfasted, and ready for a start. 
 He was "got up" with uncommon care in the most complete 
 style of the severe order of sporting costume. It being now the
 
 42 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 commencement of the legitimate hunting season — the first week 
 in November — he availed himself of the privileged period for 
 turning out in everything new. Ilejccting the now generally 
 "worn cap, he adhered to the heavy, close-napped hat, described in 
 our opening chapter, whose connexion with his head, or back, if 
 it came off", was secured by a small black silk cord, hooked through 
 the band by a fox's tooth, and anchored to a button inside the 
 haven of his low coat-collar. His neck was enveloped in the 
 ample folds of a large white silk cravat, tied in a pointing 
 diamond tie, and secured with a large silver horse-shoe pin, the 
 shoe being almost large enough for the foot of a young donkey. 
 
 His low, narrow-cohared coat was of the infinitesimal order ; 
 that is to say, a coat, and yet as little of a coat as possible — very 
 near a jacket, in fact. The scams, of course, were outside, and 
 were it not for the extreme strength and evenness of the sewing 
 and the evident intention of the thing, an ignorant person might 
 have supposed that he had had his coat turned. A double layer 
 of cloth extended the full length of the outside of the sleeves, 
 much in the fashion of the stagc-coachmen's great-coats in former 
 times ; and instead of cuffs, the sleeves were carried out to the 
 ends of the fingers, leaving it to the fancy of the wearer to sport 
 a long cuflF or a short cuff, or no cuff at all — just as the weather 
 dictated. Though the coat was single-breasted, he had a hole 
 made on the button side, to enable him to keep it together by 
 means of a miniature snaffle, instead of a button. The snaffle 
 passed across his chest, from whence the coatee, flowing easily 
 back, displayed the broad ridge and furrow of a white cord waist- 
 coat, with a low step collar, the vest reaching low down his figure, 
 with large flap pockets and a nick out in front, like a coachman's. 
 Instead of buttons, the waistcoat was secured with foxes' tusks 
 and catgut loops, while a heavy curb chain, passing from one 
 pocket to the other, raised the impression that there was a watch 
 in one and a bunch of seals in the other. The waistcoat was 
 broadly bound with white binding, and, like the coat, evinced 
 great strength and powers of resistance. His breeches were of a 
 still broader furrow than the waistcoat, looking as if the ploughman 
 had laid two ridges into one. They came low down the leg, and 
 were met by a pair of well-made, well put on, very brown topped 
 boots, a colour then unknown at Laverick AYells. His spurs were 
 bright and heavy, with formidable necks and rowels, whoso 
 slightest touch would make a horse wince, and put him on his 
 good behaviour. 
 
 Nor did the great slapping brown horse, Hercules, turn out less 
 imposingly than his master. Leather, though not the man to 
 work himself, had a very good idea of work, and right manfully 
 he made the helpers at the Eclipse livery and bait stables strap
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPOETING TOUR. 43 
 
 and groom his horses. Hercules was a fiuc animal. It did not 
 require a man to be a great judge of a horse to see that. Even 
 the ladies, though perhaps they would rather have had him a 
 white or a cream colour, could not but admire his nut-brown 
 muzzle, his glossy coat, his silky mane, and the elegant way in 
 which he carried his flowing tail. His step was delightful to look 
 at — so free, so accurate, and so easy. And that reminds us that 
 we may as well be getting Mr. Sponge up — a feat of no easy 
 accomplishment. Few hack hunters are without their little 
 peculiarities. Some are runaways — some kick — some bite — some 
 go tail first on the road — some go tail first at their fences — some 
 rush as if they were going to cat them, others baulk them 
 altogether — and iaw, very few, give satisfaction. Those that do, 
 generally retire from the public stud to the private one. But to 
 our particular quadruped, " Hercules." 
 
 Mr. Sponge was not without his misgivings that, regardless of 
 being on his preferment, the horse might exhibit more of his 
 peculiarity than would forward his master's interests, and, 
 independently of the disagreeablencss of being kicked oft' at the 
 cover side, not being always compensated for by falling soft, Mr. 
 Sponge thought, as the meet was not far off, and he did not sport 
 a cover hack, it would look quite as well to ride his horse quietly 
 on as go in a fly, provided always he could accomplish the mount 
 — the mount — like the man walking with his head under his arm 
 — being the first step to everything. 
 
 Accordingly, Mr. Leather had the horse saddled and accoutred 
 as quietly as possible — his warm clothing put over the saddle 
 immediately, and everything kept as much in the usual course as 
 possible, so that the noble animal's temper might not be ruffled by 
 unaccustomed trouble or unusual objects. Leather having seen 
 that the horse could not eject Mr. Sponge even in trousers, had 
 little fear of his dislodging him in boots and breeches ; still it was 
 desirable to avoid all unseemly contention, and maintain the high 
 character of the stud, by which means Leather felt that his own 
 character and consequeucc would best be maintained. Accordingly, 
 he refrained from calling in the aid of any of the stable assistants, 
 preferring for once to do a little work himself, especially when the 
 rider was up to the trick, and not "a gent" to be cajoled into 
 " trying a horse." Mr. Sponge, ]:)uuctual to his time, appeared at 
 tlie stable, and after much patting, whistling, so — so — ing, my 
 man, and general ingratiation, the redoubtable nag was led out of 
 the stable into a well-littered straw-yard, where, though he might 
 be gored by a bull if he fell, the "eyes of England " at all events 
 would not witness the floorer. Horses, however, have wonderful 
 memories and discrimination. Though so differently attired to 
 what he was on the occasion of his trial, the horse seemed to
 
 44 HE. SPONGE'S SPOUTING TOUB. 
 
 recognise Mr, Sponge, and independently of a few snorts as be was 
 led out, and an indignant stamp or two of his foot as it was let down, 
 after Mr, Sponge was mounted he took things very quietly. 
 
 "Now," said Leather, in an under-tone, patting the horse's 
 arched neck, " I'll give you a hint ; they're a goin' to run a drag 
 to try what he's made on, so be on the look-out," 
 
 " How do you know ? " asked Mr, Sponge, in surprise, drawing 
 his reins as he spoke. 
 
 "■ I hroiv,''' replied Mr, Leather, with a wink. 
 
 Just then the horse began to plunge, and paw, and give symp- 
 toms of uneasiness, and not wishing to fret or exhibit his weak 
 points, Mr. Sponge gave him his head, and passing through the 
 side-gate was presently in the street. He didn't exactly understand 
 it, but having full confidence in his horsemanship, and believing 
 the one he was on required nothing but riding, he was not afraid 
 to take his chance. 
 
 Not being the man to put his caudle under a bushel, Mr. Sponge 
 took the principal streets on his way out of town. We are not 
 sure that he did not go rather out of his way to get them in, but 
 that is neither here nor there, seeing he was a stranger who didn't 
 know the way. What a sensation his appearance created as the 
 gallant brown stepped proudly and freely up Coronation Street, 
 throwing his smart, clean, well-put-on head up and down on the 
 unrestrained freedom of the snaffle. 
 
 " Oh, d — n it, there he is ! " exclaimed Mr, Spareneck, jumping 
 up from the breakfast-table, and nearly sweeping the contents olf 
 by catching the cloth with his spur, 
 
 " Where ? " exclaimed half-a-dozen voices, amid a general rush 
 to the windows. 
 
 "What a fright ! " exclaimed little Miss Martindalc, whispering 
 into Miss Beauchamp's ear: "I'm sure anybody may ha\c him for 
 me," though she felt in her heart that he was far from bad looking. 
 
 " I wonder how long he's taken to put on that choker," 
 observed Mr. Spareneck, eyeing him intently, not without an 
 inward qualm that he had set himself a more difficult task than 
 he imagined, to "cut him down," especially when he looked at 
 the noble animal he bestrode, and the masterly way he sat him. 
 
 " What a pair of profligate boots," observed Captain AYhitfield, 
 as our friend now passed his lodgings. 
 
 " It would be the duty of a right-thinking man to ride over a 
 fellow in such a pair," observed his friend, Mr. Cox, who was 
 breakfasting with him, 
 
 " Ride over a fellow in such a pair ! " exclaimed Whitfield. 
 "No well-bred horse would face such things, I should think," 
 
 " He seems to think a good deal of himself ! " observed Mr. 
 Cox, as Sponge cast an admiring eye down his shining boot.
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 45 
 
 " Shouldn't wonder," replied Whitfield ; "perhaps he'll have the 
 conceit taken out of him before night." 
 
 " "Well, I hope you'll be in time, old boy ! " exclaimed ]Mr. Waffles 
 to himself, as looking down from his bed-room window, he espied 
 Mr. Sponge passing up the street on his way to cover. Mr. Waffles 
 was just out of bed, and had yet to dress and breakfast. 
 
 One man in scarlet sets all the rest on the fidget, and without 
 troubling to lay "that or that " together, they desert their break- 
 fasts, hurry to the stables, get out their horses, and rattle away, 
 lest their Avatches should be wrong, or some arrangement made that 
 they are ignorant of. The hounds, too, were on, as was seen, as 
 well by their footmarks, as by the bob, bob, bobbing of sundry 
 black caps above the li edges, on the Borrowdon-road, as the hunts- 
 man and whips proceeded at that pleasant post-boy trot, that has 
 roused the wrath of so many riders against horses that they could 
 not get to keep in time. 
 
 Now look at old Tom, cocked jauntily on the spicy bay, and see 
 what a diiFerent Tom he is to what he was last night. Instead of 
 a battered, limping, shabby-looking, little old man, he is all alive, 
 and rises to the action of his horse, as though they were all one. 
 A fringe of grey hair protrudes beneath his smart velvet cap, 
 which sets off a weather-beaten, but keen and expressive face, lit 
 up with little piercing black eyes. See how chirpy and cheery he 
 is ; how his right arm keeps rising and falling with his whip, 
 beating responsive to the horse's action with the butt-end against 
 his thigh. His new scarlet coat imparts a healthy hue to his face, 
 and good boots and breeches hide the imperfections of his bad 
 legs. His hounds seem to partake of the old man's gaiety, and 
 gather round his horse, or frolic forward on the grassy sidings of 
 the road, till, getting almost out of earshot, a single " //ooi doit! — 
 Arrogant!'^ — or " Jicre again, Brushcr !"" hx'm^^ them cheerfully 
 back to whine and look in the old man's face for applause. Nor 
 is he chary of his praise. "G — oood b^^tch ! — Arrogant ! — g — oood 
 betch ! " says he, leaning over his horse's shoulder towards her, 
 and jerking his hand to induce her to proceed forward again. So 
 the old man trots gaily on, now making of his horse, now coaxing 
 a hound, now talking to a " whip," now touching or taking off his 
 cap as he passes a sportsman, according to the estimation in which 
 he holds him. 
 
 As the hounds reach Whirleypool Windmill, there is a grand 
 rush of pedestrians to meet them. First comes a velveteen- 
 jacketed, leather-legginged keeper, with whom Tom (albeit suspi- 
 cious of his honesty) thinks it prudent to shake hands ; the miller 
 and he, too, greet ; and forthwith a black bottle with a single 
 glass make theii* appearance, and pass current with the company. 
 Then the earth-stopper draws nigh, and, resting a hand on Tom's
 
 46 3IE. SPONGE'S Sl'ORTING TOUR. 
 
 horse's shoulder, whispers confidentially in his ear. The pedestrian 
 sportsman of the country, too, has something to say ; also a horse- 
 breaker; while groups of awe-stricken children stand staring at the 
 mighty Tom, thinking him the greatest man in the world. 
 
 Railways and fox-hunting make most people punctual, and in 
 loss than five minutes from the halting of the hounds by the 
 Windmill, the various roads leading up to it emit dark-coated 
 grooms, who, dismounting, proceed to brush off the mud sparks, 
 and rectify any little derangement the horses or their accoutre- 
 ments may have contraoicd on the journey. Presently Mr. 
 Sponge, and such other gentlemen as have ridden their own horses 
 on, cast up, while from the eminence the road to I^averick Wells 
 is distinctly traceable with scarlet coats and flys, with furs and 
 flaunting feathei'S. Presently the foremost riders begin to canter 
 up the hill, when 
 
 All around is gay, men, horses, dogs, 
 And in each smiling countenance appears 
 Fresh blooming health and universal joy. 
 
 Then the ladies mingle with the scene, some on horseback, some 
 in flys, all chatter and prattle as usual, some saying smart things, 
 some trying, all making themselves as agreeable as possible, and 
 of course as captivating. Some were in ecstasies at dear Miss 
 Jumpheavy's ball — she was such a nice creature — such a charming 
 Ixall, and so well managed, while others were anticipating the 
 delights of Mrs. Tom Hoppey's, and some again were asking which 
 was Mr. Sponge. Then up went the eye-glasses, while Mr. Sponge 
 sat looking as innocent and as killing as he could. " Dear me ! " 
 exclaimed one, "he's younger than I thought." "That's him, is it ?" 
 observed another; "I saw him ride up the street ; " while the pro- 
 priety-playing ones praised his horse, and said it Avas a beauty. 
 
 The hounds, which they all had come to see, were never 
 looked at. 
 
 Mr. WafBes, like many men with nothing to do, was most 
 unpunctual. He never seemed to know what o'clock it was, and 
 yet he had a watch, hung in chains, and gewgaws, like a lady's 
 chatelaine. Hunting partook of the general confusion. He did 
 not profess to throw oft" till eleven, but it was often nearly twelve 
 before he cast up. Then he would come up full tilt, surrounded 
 by " scarlets," like a general with his staff ; and once at the meet, 
 there was a prodigious hurry to begin, equalled only by the eager- 
 ness to leave off. On this auspicious day he hove in sight, coming 
 best pace along the road, about twenty minutes before twelve, with 
 a more numerous retinue than usual. In dress, Mr. WafSes was 
 the light, butterfly order of sportsman — once-round tie, French 
 polish, paper boots, and so on. On this occasion he sported a 
 shirt-collar with three or four blue Hues, and then a white space
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 47 
 
 followed by three or more blue lines, the whole terminating in blue 
 spots about the size of fourpenny pieces at the points ; a once- 
 round blue silk tie, with white spots and flying ends. His coat 
 was a light, jackety sort of thing, with little pockets behind, some- 
 thing in the style of Mr. Sponge's (a docked dressing-gown), but 
 wanting the outside seaming, back strapping, and general strength, 
 that characterised i\Ir. Sponge's. His waistcoat, of course, was a 
 worked one — heart's-ease mingled with foxes' heads, on a true blue 
 ground, the gift of — we'll not say who — his leathers were of the 
 tinest doe-skin, and his long- topped, pointed-toed boots so thin as 
 to put all idea of wet or mud out of the question. 
 
 Such Avas the youth who now cantered up and took off his cap 
 to the rank, beauty, and fashion, assembled at Whirleypool AVindmill. 
 He then proceeded to pay his respects in detail. At length, having 
 exhausted his "nothings," and said the same thing over again in 
 a dozen diflerent ways to a dozen different ladies, he gave a slight 
 jerk of the head to Tom Towler, who forthwith whistled his hounds 
 together, and attended by the whips, bustled from the scene. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE FIND, AND THE FINISH. 
 
 
 CAPTAIN GKtATliL; 
 
 hanging on by manes, mingled with 
 
 EPPING HUNT, in its most 
 palmy days could not equal 
 the exhibition that now took 
 ]»lace. Some of the more 
 lively of the horses, tired of 
 waiting, jDerhaps pinched by 
 the cold, for most of them 
 were newly clipped, evinced 
 their approbation of the 
 move, by sundry squeals and 
 capers, which being caught 
 by others in the neigh- 
 bourhood, the infection 
 quickly spread, and in less 
 than a minute there was 
 such a scene of rocking, 
 and rearing, and kicking, 
 and prancing, and neighing, 
 and shooting over heads, 
 and rolling over tails, and 
 such screamings from the
 
 48 3IR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 ladies ill the flys, and such hcavty-soundin.ii: kicks against splash 
 boards and fly bottoms, from sundry of the vicious ones in harness, 
 as never was witnessed. One gentleman, in a bran new scarlet, 
 mounted on a flourishing pie-bald, late the property of Mr. Batty, 
 stood pawing and fighting the air, as if in the saw-dust circle, his 
 unfortunate rider clinging round his neck, expecting to have the 
 beast back over upon him. Another little wiry chestnut, with 
 abundance of rings, racing martingale, and tackle generally, just 
 turned tail on the crowd and ran off home as hard as ever he could 
 lay legs to the ground ; while a good steady bay cob, Avith a barrel 
 like a" butt, and a tail like a hearth-brush, having selected the 
 muddiest, dirtiest place he could find, deliberately proceeded to lie 
 down, to the horror of his rider, Captain Greatgun, of the royal 
 navy, who, feeling himself suddenly touch mother earth, thoughb 
 he was going to be swallowed up alive, and was only awoke from 
 the delusion by the shouts of the foot people, telling him to get 
 clear of his horse before he began to roll. 
 
 Hercules would fain have joined the truant set, and, at the first 
 commotion, up went his great back, and down went his ears, with 
 a single lash out behind that meant mischief, but Mr. Sponge was 
 on the alert, and just gave him such a dig with his spurs as 
 restored order, without exposing anything that anybody could 
 take notice of. 
 
 The sudden storm was quickly lulled. The spilt ones scrambled 
 u]) ; the loose riders got tighter hold of their horses ; the scream- 
 ing fair ones sunk languidly in their carriages ; and the late 
 troubled ocean of equestrians fell into irregular line en route for 
 the cover. 
 
 Bump, bump, bump ; trot, trot, trot ; jolt, jolt, jolt ; shake, 
 shake, shake ; and carriages and cavalry got to Rihstou Wood 
 somehow or other. It is a long cover on a hill-side, from which 
 parties, placing themselves in the green valley below, can see hounds 
 "draw," that is to say, run through with their noses to the ground, 
 if there are any men foolish enough to believe that ladies care for 
 seeing such things. However, there they were. 
 
 " £11 let!., in ! " cries old Tom, with a wave of his arm, finding 
 he can no longer restrain the ardour of the pack as they approach, 
 and thinking to save his credit, by appearing to direct. " JSu leu^ 
 in I " repeats he, with a heartier cheer, as the pack charge the 
 rotten fence with a crash that echoes through the wood. The 
 whips scuttle off to their respective points, gentlemen feel their 
 horses' girths, hats are thrust firmly on the head, and the sherry 
 and brandy flasks begin to be drained. 
 
 " Talhj ho ! " cries a countryman at the top of the wood, hoist- 
 ing his hat on a stick. At the magic sound, fear comes over some, 
 joy over others, intense anxiety over all. What commotion !
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 "What indecision! What confusion! " Wliich ^-ay ? — "Wliich 
 way ? " is tlie cry. 
 
 " Ticayig, ttvang, iiccmg,^'' goes old Tom'f< horn at the top of the 
 wood, whither he seems to have flown, so quick has he got there. 
 
 A dark-coated gentleman on a good family horse solves the 
 important question — " Which way ? " — by diving at once into the 
 wood, crashing along till he comes to a cross-road that leads to the 
 top, when the scene opening to " open fresh fields and pastures 
 new," discloses divers other sections struggling up in long drawn 
 lilcs, following other leaders, all puffing, and wheezing and holding 
 on by the manes, many feeling as if they had had enough already 
 — " Quick! " is the word, for the tail-hounds are flying the fence 
 out of the first field over the body of the pack, Avhich are running 
 almost mute at best pace beyond, looking a good deal smaller 
 than is agreeable to the eyes of a sportsman. 
 
 " F^o — — r — rarcl I " screams old Tom, flying the fence after 
 them, followed by jealous jostling riders in scarlet and colour?; 
 some anxious, some easy, some wanting to be at it, some wanting 
 to look as if they did, some wishing to know if there was anything 
 on the far side. 
 
 Now Tom tops another fence, rising like a rocket and dropping 
 like a bird; still "i^ — o — o — r — rardi ''' is the cry — away they 
 go at racing pace. 
 
 The field draws out like a telescope, leaving the largest portion 
 at the end, and many — the fair and fat ones in particular — seeing 
 the hopelessness of the case, pull up their horses, while yet on an 
 eminence that commands a view. Fifteen or twenty horsemen 
 enter for the race, and dash forward, though the hounds rather 
 gain on old Tom, and the further they go the smaller the point of 
 the telescope becomes. The pace is awful ; many would give in 
 but for the ladies. At the end of a mile or so, the determined 
 ones show to the front, and the spirters and " make-believes " 
 gladly avail themselves of their pioneering powers. 
 
 Mr. Sponge, who got well through the wood, has been going at 
 his ease, the great striding brown throwing the large fields behind 
 him with ease, and taking his leaps safely and well. He now 
 shows to the front, and old Tom, who is still " F — o—o — r — rard- 
 ing " to his hounds, either rather falls back to the field or the 
 field draws upon him. At all events they get together somehow. 
 A belt of Scotch fir plantation, with a stiffish fence on each side, 
 tries their mettle and the stoutness of their hats : crash they get 
 through it, the noise they make among the thorns and rotten 
 branches resembling the outburst of a "fire. Several gentlemen 
 here decline under cover of the trees. 
 
 "i^— — — r — rard! " screams old Tom, as he dives through 
 the stiff fence and lands in the field outside the plantation. He
 
 GO MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 might liavc saved his bi'eath, for the hounds were beating him as 
 it was. Mr. Sponge bores through the same place, little aided, 
 however, by anything old Tom has done to clear the way for him, 
 and the rest follow in his wake. 
 
 The field is now reduced to six, and two of the number, Mr. 
 Spareneck and Caingey Thornton, become marked in their atten- 
 tion to our hero. Thornton is riding Mr. Waffles' crack steeple- 
 chaser " Dare-Devil," and Mr. Spareneck is on a first-rate hunter 
 belonging to the same gentleaian, but they have not been able to 
 get our friend Sponge into grief. On the contrary, his horse, 
 though lathered, goes as strong as ever, and Mr. Sponge, seeing 
 their design, is as careful of him as possible, so as not to lose 
 ground. His fine, strong, steady seat, and quiet handling, con- 
 trasts well with Thornton's rolling bucketing style, who has already 
 begun to ply a heavy cutting whip, in aid of his spurs at his fences, 
 accompanied with a half Irantic "^ — u — r — r — r along ! " and 
 inquires of the horse if he thinks he stole him ? 
 
 The three soon get in front ; fast as they go, the hounds go 
 faster, and fence after fence is thrown behind them, just as a girl 
 throws her skipping-rope. 
 
 Tom and the whips follow, grinning with their tongues in their 
 cheeks, Tom still screeching " F — o — o — o — rard ! — F—o — o — o — 
 rnrd ! " at intervals. 
 
 A big stone wall, built with mortar, and coped with heavy blocks 
 of stone, is taken by the three abreast, for which they ."are rewarded 
 by a gallop up Stretchfurrow pasture, from the summit of which 
 they see the hounds streaming away to a fine grass country below, 
 with pollard willows dotted here and there in the bottom. 
 
 " Water .'"'^ says our friend Sponge to himself, wondering whether 
 Hercules would face it. A desperate black bullfinch, so thick 
 that they could hardly see through it, is shirked by consent, for a 
 gate which a countryman opens, and another fence or two being 
 passed, the splashing of some hounds in the water, and the shaking 
 of others on the opposite bank, show that, as usual, the willows 
 are pretty true prophets. 
 
 Caingey, grinning his coarse red face nearly double, and getting 
 his horse well by the head, rams in the spurs, and flourishes his 
 cutting whip high in air, with a "/7 — u — u — ur along ! do you 
 f/iinlc I" — the '^ stole you'''' being lost under water just as Sponge 
 clears the brook a little lower down. Spareneck then pulls up. 
 
 \Yhen Nimrod had Dick Christian under water in the Whissen- 
 dine in his Leicestershire run, and some one more humane than 
 the rest of the field observed, as they rode on, 
 
 '* But he'll be drowned." 
 *' Shouldn't wonder," exclaimed another. 
 
 " But the pace,'" Nimrod added, " ivas too good to inqiike'*
 
 ME. SPONGE'S SPOUTING TOUR. 51 
 
 Such, however, was not the case with onr waterii]2;-place cock, 
 Mr. Sponge, Independently of the absurdity of a mau risking his 
 neck for the sake of picking up a bunch of red herrings, Mr. 
 Sponge, having beat everybody, could afford a httle humanity, 
 more especially as he rode his horse on sale, and there was now no 
 one left to witness the further prowess of the steed. Accordingly, 
 lie availed himself of a heavy, newly-ploughed fallow, upon Avhich 
 he landed as he cleared the brook, ibr pulling up, and returned 
 just as Mr. Spareneck, assisted by one of the whips, succeeded in 
 landing Caingey on the taking-off side. Caingey was not a pretty 
 boy at the best of times — none but the most partial parents could 
 think him one— and his clumsy-featured, short, compressed face, 
 and thick, lumpy figure, were anything but improved by a sort 
 of pea-green net-work of water-weeds with which he arose from 
 his bath. He was uncommonly well soaked, and had to be held 
 up by the heels to let the water run out of his boots, pockets and 
 clothes. In this undignified position he was found by Mr. AVaffies 
 and such of the field as had ridden the line. 
 
 " Why, Caingey, old boy ! you look like a boiled porpoise with 
 parsley sauce ! " exclaimed Mr. Waffles, pulling up where the 
 unfortunate youth was sputtering and getting emptied like a jug. 
 " Confound it ! " added he, as the water came gurgling out of his 
 mouth, "but you must have drunk the brook dry." 
 
 Caingey would have censured his inhumanity, but knowing the 
 imprudence of quarrelling with his bread and butter, and also 
 aware of the laughable, drowned-rat figure he must then be cutting, 
 he thought it best to laugh, and take his change out of Mr. 
 AVafiles another time. According, he chuckled and laughed too, 
 though his jaws nearly refused their office, and kindly transferred 
 the blame of the accident from the horse to himself. 
 
 " He didn't put on steam enough," he said. 
 
 Meanwhile, old Tom, who had gone on with the hounds, having 
 availed himself of a well-known bridge, a little above where 
 Thornton went in, for getting over the brook, and having allowed 
 a sufficient time to elapse for the proper completion of the farce, 
 was now seen rounding the opposite hill, with his hounds clustered 
 about his horse, with his mind conning over one of those 
 imaginary runs that experienced huntsmen know so well how to 
 tell, when there is no one to contradict them. 
 
 Having quartered his ground to get at his old friend the bridge 
 ngain, he just trotted up with well-assumed gaiety as Caingey 
 Thornton spluttered the last piece of green weed out from between 
 his great thick lips. 
 
 "Well, Tom!" exclaimed Mr. Waffles, "what have you done 
 \Yith him ? " 
 
 '^Killed him, sir,''' replied Tom, with a slight touch of his cap,. 
 
 £ 2
 
 52 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 as thougli *' killing " was a matter of cvcry-day occurrence with 
 them. 
 
 '■'' Have you, indeed! ^^ exclaimed Mr. Waffles, adopting the lie 
 with avidity. 
 
 "Yes, sir," said Tom, gravely; "he was nearly beat afore lie 
 ,<^ot to the brook. Indeed, I thought Vanquisher Avould have had 
 him in it ; but, however, he got thi'ough, and the scent failed on 
 the fallow, which gave him a chance ; but I held them on to the 
 hedgerow beyond, where they hit it off like wildfire, and they 
 never stopped again till they tumbled him over at the back of Mr. 
 Plummey's farm-baildings, at Shapwick. I've got his brush," 
 added Tom, producing a much tattered one from his pocket, " if 
 you'd like to have it ? " 
 
 "Thank you, no — yes— no," replied "Waffles, not w^anting to be 
 bothered with it; "yet stay," continued he, as his eye caught 
 Mr. Sponge, who was still on foot beside his vanquished friend ; 
 '• give it 10 Mr. AYhat-de-ye-call-'em," added he, nodding towards 
 our hero. 
 
 " Sjwngc,^'' observed Tom, in an undertone, giving the brush tO' 
 his master. 
 
 " Mr. Sponge, Avill you do me the favour to accept the brush ? "■ 
 asked Mr. Waffles, advancing with it towards him ; adding, " I am 
 sorrv this unlucky bather should have prevented your seeing tho 
 end." 
 
 Mr. Sponge was a pretty good judge of brushes, and not a bad 
 one of campliire ; but if this one had smelt twice as strong as ib 
 did — indeed, if it had dropped to pieces in his hand, or the moths^ 
 liad flown up in his face, he would have pocketed it, seeing it paved 
 the way to what he wanted — an introduction. 
 
 " I'm very much obliged, I'm sure," observed he, advancing to 
 take it — " very much obliged, indeed ; been an extremely good 
 run, and fast." 
 
 "Very fair — very fair," observed Mr. Waffles, as though it were 
 nothing in their way ; seven miles in twenty minutes, I suppose, 
 or something of that sort." 
 
 " C>ne-and-twenty," interposed Tom, with a laudable anxiety for 
 accuracy. 
 
 "Ah! one-and-twenty," rejoined Mr. Waffles. "I thought it 
 would be somewhere thereabouts. Well, I suppose we've all had 
 enough," added he ; " may as well go home and have some 
 luncheon, and then a game at billiards, or rackets, or something. 
 How's the old water-rat ? " added he, turning to Thornton, who 
 was now busy emptying his cap and mopping the velvet. 
 
 The water-rat was as well as could be expected, but did not quite 
 like the new aspect of affliirs. He saw that Mr. Sponge was a 
 first-rate horseman, and also knew that nothing ingratiated one
 
 Mil. SFONGE'S SPOUTING TOUR. 53 
 
 man with another so much as skill and boldness in the field. It 
 vras by that means, indeed, that he had established himself in Mr. 
 Waffles' good graces — an ingratiation that had been pretty servicc- 
 iiblc to him, both in the way of meat, drink, mounting, and 
 money. Had Mr. Sponge been, like himself, a needy, penniless 
 adventurer, Caingey would have tried to have kept him out by 
 some of those plausible, admonitory hints, that poverty makes men 
 so obnoxious to ; but in the case of a rich, flourishing individual, 
 with such an astonishing stud as Leather made him out to have, 
 it was clearly Caingey's policy to knock under and be subservient 
 to Mr. Sponge also. Caingey, we should observe, Avas a bold, 
 reckless rider, never seeming to care ibr his neck, but he was no 
 match for Mr. Sponge, who had both skill and courage. 
 
 Caingey being at length cleansed from his weeds, wiped from his 
 mud, and made as comfortable as possible under the circumstances, 
 was now hoisted on to the renowned steeple-chase horse again, 
 who had scrambled out of the brook on the taking-off side, and, 
 after meandering the banks for a certain distance, had been caught 
 by the bridle in the branch of a willow — Caingey, wc say, being 
 jigain mounted, Mr. Sponge also, without hindrance from the 
 resolute brown horse, the first whip put himself a little in advance, 
 while old Tom followed with the hounds, and the second whij) 
 mingled with the now increasing field, it being generally under- 
 stood (by the uninitiated, at least) that hounds have no business 
 to go home so long as any gentleman is inclined for a scurrey, no 
 matter whether he has joined early or late. Mr. Waffles, on the 
 contrary, was very easily satisfied, and never took the shine oft' a 
 run with a kill by risking a subsequent defeat. Old Tom, though 
 keen when others were keen, was not indifferent to his comforts, 
 and soon came into the way of thinking that it was just as well to 
 get home to his mutton-chops at two or three o'clock, as to 
 be groping his way about bottomless bye-roads on dark winter 
 nights. 
 
 As he retraced his steps homeward, and overtook the scattered 
 field of the morning, his talent for invention, or rather stretching, 
 was again called into requisition. 
 
 " AVhat have you done with him, Tom ? " asked ]\Iajor Bouncer, 
 eagerly bringing his sturdy collar-marked cob alongside of our 
 huntsman. 
 
 " Killed him, sir," replied Tom, with the slightest possible touch 
 of the cap. (Bouncer was no tip.) 
 
 ^^ I/idrf'd! ^^ exclaimed Bouncer, gaily, with that sort of sham- 
 satisfaction that most people express about things that can't 
 concern them in the least. " Indeed ! I'm deuced glad of that ! 
 Where did you kill him ? " 
 
 "At the back of Mr. Plummey's farm-buildings, at Shapwick,'
 
 54 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 replied Tom ; adding, " but, my word, he led us a dance afore we 
 j^ofc there — \\]) to Ditchington,down to Somerby, round by Temple 
 Bell AA'"ood, cross Goosegreen Common, then away for Stubbington 
 Brooms, skirtin' Sanderwick Plantations, but scarce goin' into 'em, 
 then by the round hill at Camerton, leavin' great Hcatherton to 
 the right, and so straight on to Shapwick, where we killed, with 
 every hound up — " 
 
 " God hicss me ! " exclaimed Bouncer, apparently lost in admira- 
 tion, though he scarcely knew the country ; " God bless me ! '* 
 repeated he, " what a run ! The finest run that ever was seen." 
 
 "Nine miles in twenty-five minutes," replied Tom, tacking on 
 a little both for time and distance. 
 
 *' B-o-y Jove ! " exclaimed the major. 
 
 Having shaken hands with and congratulated Mr. Waffles mosfc 
 eagerly and earnestly, the major hurried of to tell as much as he 
 could remember to the first person he met, just as the cheese- 
 bearer at a christening looks out for some one to give the cheese 
 to. The cheese-getter on this occasion was Doctor Lotion, who 
 was going to visit old Jackcy Thompson, of Woolleybum. Jackey 
 being then in a somewhat precarious state of health, and tolerably 
 advanced in life, without any very self-evident heir, was obnoxious 
 to the attentions of three distinct litters of cousins, some one or 
 other of whom was constantly "baying him." Lotion, though a 
 sapient man, and somewhat grinding in his practice, did not 
 profess to grind old people young again, and feeling he could do 
 very little for the body corporate, directed his attention to amusing 
 •lackey's mind, and anything in the shape of gossip was extremely 
 acceptable to the doctor to retail to his patient. Moreover, Jaclcey 
 had been a bit of a sportsman, and was always extremely happy to 
 see the hounds — on anyhodi/'s land hut his own. 
 
 So Lotion got primed with the story, and having gone through 
 the usual routine of asking his patient how he was, how he had 
 slept, looking at his tongue, and reporting on the weather, when 
 the old posing question, " What's the news?" was put, Lotion 
 replied, as he too often had to reply, for he was a very slow hand 
 at picking up information. 
 
 "Nothin' particklar, I think, sir ;" adding, in an off-hand sort 
 of way, " you've heard cf the greet run, I s'pose, sir ? " 
 
 " Great run ! " exclaimed the octogenarian, as if it was a matter 
 of the most vital importance to him ; " great run, sir ; no, sir, not 
 a ivordr^ 
 
 The doctor then retailed it. 
 
 Old Jackey got possessed of this one idea — he thought of 
 nothing else. Whoever came, he out with it, chapter and verse, 
 with occasional variations. He told it to all the " cousins iu 
 waiting;" Jackey Thompson, of Camngton Ford; Jackey
 
 3IB. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUR. 55 
 
 Thompson, of IToundeslcy ; Jackcy Thompson, of the IMill ; and 
 aU the Bobs, Bills, Sams, Harries, and Peters, composing the 
 respective litters ; — forgettins.' where he got it from, he nearly told 
 it back to Lotion himself. We sometimes see old people affected 
 this way — far more enthusiastic on a subject than young ones. 
 Few dread the aspect of affairs so much as those who have little 
 chance of seeing how they go. 
 
 But to the run. The cousins reproduced the story according to 
 their respective powers of exaggeration. One tacked on two miles, 
 another ten, and so it went on and on, till it reached the ears of the 
 great Mr. Seedeyman, the mighty we of the country, as he sat in 
 his den penning his " stunners " for his market-day Mcrciirij. It 
 liad then distanced the great sea-serj^eut itself in length, having 
 extended over thirty-three miles of country, w'hich Mr. Seedeyman 
 reported to have been run in one hour and forty minutes. 
 
 Pretty good going, Ave should say. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE FEELER. 
 
 Bag fox-hunts, be they ever so good, are but unsatisfactory 
 things ; drag I'uns are, beyond all measure, unsatisfactory. After 
 the best-managed bag fox-huut, there is always a sort of suppressed 
 joy, a deadly liveliness in the held. Those in the secret are afraid 
 of praising it too much, lest the secret should ooze out, and strangers 
 suppose that all their great runs are with bag foxes, while the mere 
 retaking of an animal that one has had in hand before is not cal- 
 culated to arouse any very pleasurable emotious. Nobody ever 
 goes frantic at seeing an old donkey of a deer handed back iuto 
 his carriage after a canter. 
 
 Our friends on this occasion soon exhausted what they had to 
 say on the subject. 
 
 " That's a nice horse of yours," observed Mr. Waffles to ]\rr. 
 Sponge, as the latter, on the strength of the musty brush, now rude 
 alongside the master of the hounds. 
 
 "I think he is," replied Sponge, rubbing some of the now dried 
 sweat from his shoulder and neck ; " I think he is ; I like him a 
 good deal better to-day than I did the first time I rode him." 
 
 "What, he's a new one, is he ? " asked Mr. AYaffles, taking a 
 scented cigar from his mouth, and giving a steady sidelong stare 
 at the horse. 
 
 " Bought him in Leicestershire," replied Sponge. " He belonged
 
 5G 3IR. SPONGi:'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 to liorcl Bullfrog, who didn't think liim exactly up to his 
 AveiG;ht." 
 
 "Up to his weight!" exclaimed Mr. Caingcy Thornton, who 
 had now ridden np on the other side of his great patron, " why, 
 lie ninsb be another Daniel Lambert." 
 
 " Rather so," replied Mr. Sponge ; " rides nineteen stnn." 
 
 "What a monster ! " exclaimed Thornton, who was of the pocket 
 order. 
 
 " I thought he didn't go fast enough at his fences the first time 
 I rode him," observed Mr. Sponge, drawing the curb slightly so as 
 to show the horse's fine arched neck to advantage ; " but he went 
 (juick enough to-day, in all conscience," added he. 
 
 "Pie did fhat,^^ observed Mr. Thornton, now bent on a toadying 
 match. " I never saw a finer lepper." 
 
 " He flew many feet beyond the brook," observed Mr. Spareneck, 
 who, thinking discretion was the better part of valour, had pulled 
 up on seeing his comrade Thornton blobbing about in the middle 
 ■of it, and therefore was qualified to speak to the fact. 
 
 So they went on talking about the horse, and his points, and his 
 speed, and his action, very likely as much for Avant of something to 
 say, or to keep off the subject of the run, as from any real admira- 
 tion of the animal. 
 
 The true way to make a man take a fancy to a horse is to make 
 believe that yon don't want to sell him — at all events, that you arc 
 easy about selling. Mr. Sponge had played this gam.e so very 
 often, that it came quite natural to him. He knew exactly how 
 far to go, and having expressed his previous objection to the 
 horse, he now most handsomely made the amende honorable by 
 patting him on the neck, and declaring that he really thought he 
 should keep him. 
 
 It is said that every man has his Avcak or " do-able " point, if the 
 sharp ones can but discover it. This observation does not refer, 
 wc believe, to men with an innocent fcncliant for play, or the 
 turf, or for buying pictures, or for collecting china, or for driving 
 coaches and four, all of which tastes proclaim themselves sooner or 
 later, but means that the most knowing, the most cautious, and 
 the most careful, arc all to be come over, somehow or another. 
 
 There are few things more surprising in this remarkable world 
 than the magnificent way people talk about money, or the mean- 
 nesses they will resort to in order to get a little. We hear fellows 
 Hashing and talking in hundreds and thousands, who will do 
 almost anything for a five-pound note. We have known men 
 pretending to hunt countries at their own expense, and yet actually 
 " living out of the hounds." Next to the accomplishment of that — 
 apparently almost impossible feat — comes the dexterity required 
 for living by horse-dealing.
 
 ME. SPONGE'S SFOETING TOUll. 57 
 
 A little lower down in the scale comes the income derived from 
 the profession of a "go-between" — the gentleman who can buy 
 the horse cheaper than you can. This was Caiugey Thornton's 
 trade. He was always lurking about people's stables talking to 
 grooms and worming out secrets — whose horse had a cough, whose 
 was a wind-sucker, whose was lame after hunting, and so on — and 
 had a price curreut of every horse in the place— knew what had 
 been given, what the owners asked, and had a pretty good guess 
 what they would take. 
 
 Waffles would have been an invaluable customer to Thornton 
 if the former's groom, Mr. Figg, had not been rather too hard witii 
 his "reg'lars." He insisted on Caingey dividing whatever he got 
 out of ins master with him. This reduced protils considerably ; 
 but still, as it was a profession that did not require any capital to 
 set up with, Thornton could afford to be liberal, having only to 
 tack on to one end to cut off at the other. 
 
 After the opening Sponge gave as they rode home with the 
 hounds, Thornton had no dilficultj in sounding him on the 
 subject. 
 
 " You'll not think me impertinent, I hope," observed Caingey, 
 in his most deferential style, to our hei'O, when they met at the 
 Xews'-room the next day — "you'll not think me impertinent, I 
 hope ; but I think you said as we rode home, yesterday, that you 
 didn't altogether like the brown horse you were on ? " 
 
 " Bid I? " replied Mr. Sponge, with apparent surprise ; " I think 
 you must have misunderstood me." 
 
 "AVhy, no; it wasn't exactly that," rejoined Mr. Thornton, 
 " but you said you liked him better than you did, I think ? " 
 
 "Ah! I believe I did say something of the sort," replied 
 Sponge, casually — "I believe I did say something of the sort ; but 
 he carried me so avcU that I thought better of him. The fact 
 was," continued Mr. Sponge, confidentially, "I thought him rather 
 too light-mouthed; I like a horse that bears more en the hand." 
 
 " Indeed !" observed Mr. Thornton ; " most people think a light 
 mouth a recommendation." 
 
 " I know they do," replied 'Mv, Sponge, "I know they do ; but 
 I like a horse that requii'cs a little riding. Xow this is too 
 much of a made horse — too much of Avhat I call an old man's 
 horse, for me. Bullfrog, whom I bought him of, is very fat — 
 eats a great deal of venison and turtle — all sorts of good things, 
 in fact — and can't stand much tewing in the saddle ; now, 
 I rather like to feel that I am on a horse, and not in an arm- 
 chair." 
 
 "He's a fine horse," observed Mr. Th(^rnton. 
 
 " So he ought," replied Mr. Sponge ; " I gave a hatful of 
 money for him — two hundred and fifty golden sovereigns, and
 
 58 MR. SPONGE'S SPOUTING TOUR. 
 
 rot a guinea back. Bullfrog's the bigcesfc screw I ever dealt 
 with." 
 
 That latter observation was highly encouraging to Thornton. 
 It showed that Mr. Sponge was not one of your tight-laced dons, 
 who take offence at the mere mention of "drawbacks," but, 
 on the contrary, favoured the supposition that he would do the 
 " genteel," should he happen to be a seller. 
 
 "Well, if you should feel disposed to part with liim, perhaps 
 yon will have the kindness to let me know," observed ]\Ir. 
 Thornton ; adding, " he's not for myself, of course, but I think I 
 know a man he would suit, and who would be inclined to give a 
 good price for him." 
 
 "I'will," replied Mr. Sponge ; " I will," repeated he ; adding, 
 " if I tvere to sell him, I wouldn't take a farthing nnder three 
 'underd for him — three \m(\erd r/uineas, mind, notj^nnds.^^ 
 
 " That's a vast sum of money," observed Mr. Thornton. 
 
 "Not a bit on't," replied Mr. Sponge. " He's worth it all, and 
 a great deal more. Indeed, I haven't said, mind that, I'll take 
 that for him ; all I've said is, that I wouldn't take less." 
 
 " Just so," replied Mr. Thornton. 
 
 "He's a horse of high character," observed Mr. Sponge. 
 " Indeed, he has no business out of Leicestershire ; and I don't 
 know what set my fool of a groom to bring him here." 
 
 "Well, I'll see if I can coax my friend into giving what you 
 say," observed Mr. Thornton. 
 
 "Nay, never mind coaxing," replied Mr. Sponge, with the 
 utmost indifference ; "never mind coaxing ; if he's not anxious, 
 my name's ' easy.' Only mind ye, if I ride him again, and lio 
 can'ies me as he did yesterday, I shall clap on another fifty. A 
 horse of that figure can't be dear at any price," added he. " Put 
 him in a steeple-chase, and you'd get your money back in ten 
 minutes, and a bagful to boot." 
 
 " True," observed Mr. Thornton, treasuring that fact up as an 
 additional inducement to use to his friend. 
 
 So the amiable gentlemen parted.
 
 MB. SPONGU'S SPOBTING TOUll. 
 
 59 
 
 i 
 
 
 '' 'Mill 
 
 t 
 
 
 sGO ' 
 
 r-^»:i 
 
 DECOHATED WITU A SKV-BLUK VISl 
 
 CHAPTEE XII. 
 
 THE DEAL, AND THE DISASTER. 
 
 IF people are inclined 
 to deal, bargains can 
 very soon be struck 
 at idle watering- 
 places, where any- 
 thing in the shape 
 of occupation is a 
 godsend, and bar- 
 gainers know where 
 to find each other in 
 a minute. Every- 
 body knows where 
 e\erybody is. 
 
 " Have you seen 
 Jack Sprat ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes: he's j list 
 gone into Muddle's 
 Bazaar with Miss Flouncey, looking uncommon sweet." Or — • 
 '' Can you tell me where I shall find Mr. Slowman ? " 
 Answer. — "You'll find him at his lodgings, Xo. 15, Belvidere 
 Terrace, till a quarter before seven. He's gone home to dress, to 
 dine with IMajor and Mrs. Holdsworthy, at Grunton Yilla, for I 
 heard him order Jenkins's fly at that time." 
 
 Caingey Thornton kuew exactly when he would find ]\Ir. "WaflH-es 
 at Miss Lollypop's, the confectioner, eating ices and making love 
 to that very interesting, much-courted young lady. True to his 
 time, there was Waffles, eating and eyeing the cherry-coloured 
 ribbons, floating in graceful curls along with her raven-coloured 
 ringlets, down Miss Lollypop's nice fresh plump cheeks. 
 
 After expatiating on the great merits of the horse, and the 
 certainty of getting all the money back by steeple-chasing him in 
 the spring, and stating his conviction that ]\Ir. Sponge would not 
 take any part of the purchase-money in pictures or jewellery, or 
 anything of that sort, ]\Ir. AVaffles gave his consent to deal, on the 
 terms the following conversation shows. 
 
 " My friend will give you your price, if you wouldn't mind 
 taking his cheque and keeping it for a few months till he's into 
 funds," observed IMr. Thornton, who now sought Mr. Sponge out 
 at the billiard-room.
 
 CO MB. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUR. 
 
 "Why," observed Mr. Sponge, Uiougbtfally, "you know horses 
 are always ready money." 
 
 " True," replied Thornton ; " at least that's the theory of the 
 thing ; only my friend is rather peculiarly situated at present." 
 
 " I suppose Mr. Waffles is your man ? " observed Mr. Sponge, 
 rightly judging tliat there couldn't be two such flats in the place. 
 
 " Just soV' said Mr. Thornton. 
 
 "I'd rather take his 'stiff"' than his cheque," observed Mr. 
 Sponge, after a pause. " I could get a bit of stiff" done, but a 
 cheque, you see — especially a post-dated one — is always objected 
 to." 
 
 "Well, I dare say that will make no difference," observed Mr. 
 Thornton, "'stiff,' if you prefer it — say three months ; or perhaps 
 you'll give us four ? " 
 
 ^^ Three's long enougli, in all conscience," replied i\Ir. Sponge, 
 ■with a shake of the head ; adding, " Bullfrog made me pay down 
 on the naiL" 
 
 "Well, so be it, then," assented Mr. Thornton ; " you draw at 
 three months, and Mr. Waffles will accept, payable at Coutts's." 
 
 After so much liberality, Mr. Caingey expected that IMr. Sponge 
 would have hinted at something handsome for him ; but all Sponge 
 said was, " So be it," too, as he Avalked away to buy a bill-stamp. 
 
 Mr. "Waffles was more considerate, and promised him the first 
 rcouat on his new purchase, though Caingey would rather have 
 had a ten, or even a five-pound note. 
 
 Towards the hour of ten on that eventful day, numerous 
 gaitcred, trousered, and jacketed grooms began to ride up and 
 down the High-street, most of them with their stirrups crossed 
 negligently on the pommels of the saddles, to indicate that their 
 masters were going to ride the horses, and not them. The street 
 grew lively, not so much with people going to hunt, as with people 
 coming to sec those who were. Tattered Hibernians, with rags 
 on their backs and jokes on their lips ; young English chevaliers 
 (Vindustrw, with their hands ready to dive into anybody's pockets 
 but their own ; stablemen out of place, servants loitering on their 
 errands, striplings helping them, ladies' -maids with novels or 
 three-corner'd notes, and a good crop of beggars. 
 
 " What, Spareneck, do you ride the grey to-day ? I thouglit 
 you'd done Gooseman out of a mount," observed Ensign Downley, 
 as a line of scarlet-coated youths hung over the balcony of the 
 Imperial Hotel, after breakfast and before mounting for the day. 
 
 Spcrenec]!:.—^'^o,i\\ixi\ for Tuesday. He wouldn't stand one 
 to-day. What do you ride ? " 
 
 Doivnley. — " Oh, I've a hack, one of Scrcwman's, Perpetual 
 jMotion they call him, because he never gets any rest. That's him, 
 I believe, with the lofty-actioned hind-legs," added he, pointing
 
 Mil. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. CI 
 
 to a ^ccdy string-halty bay passing" below, high iu bone and low 
 in flesh. 
 
 " AVho's o' the gaudy chestnut ? " asked Caingcy Thornton, 
 who now appeared, wiping his fat lips after his second glass of cait 
 cle vei. 
 
 "That's Mr. Sponge's," replied Spareneck, ia a low tone, know- 
 ing how soon a man catches his own name. 
 
 " A deuced fine horse he is, too," observed Caingey, in a louder 
 key ; adding, " Sponge has the finest lot of horses of any man in 
 England — in the ivorld, I may say." 
 
 Mr. Sponge himself now rose from the breakfast table, and was 
 speedily followed by Mr. "Waffles and the rest of the party, some 
 bearing sofa-pillows and cushions to place on the balustrades, to 
 loll at their ease, in imitation of the Coventry Club swells in 
 Piccadilly. Then our friends smoked their cigars, reviewed the 
 cavalry, and criticised the ladies Avho passed below in the flys on 
 their way to the meet. 
 
 "Come, old Bolter !" exclaimed one, "here's Miss Bussington 
 coming to look after you — got her mamma with her, too — so you 
 may as well knock under at once, for she's determined to have you." 
 
 "A devil of a woman the old un is, too," observed Ensign 
 Downley ; " she nearly frightened Jack Simpers of ours into fits, 
 by asking what he meant after dancing three dances with her 
 daughter one night." 
 
 "My word, but Miss Jumpheavy must expect to do some 
 execution to-day with that fine floating feather and her crimson 
 satin dress and ermine," observed Mr. Wafiles, as that estimable 
 lady drove past in her Victoria phaeton. " She looks like the 
 Queen of Sheba herself. But come, I suppose," he added, taking a 
 most diminutive Geneva watch out of his waistcoat-pocket, " wo 
 should be going. Sec ! there's your nag kicking up a shindy," ho 
 said to Caingey Thornton, as the redoubtable brown was led down 
 the street by a jean-jacketed groom, kicking and lashing out at 
 everything he came near. 
 
 " I'll kick him," observed Thornton, retiring from the balcony 
 to the brandy-bottle, and helping himself to a pretty good-sized 
 glass. He then extricated his large cutting whip from the 
 confusion of whips with which it Avas mixed, and clonk, clonk, 
 clonked down stairs to the door. 
 
 " Multum in Parvo " stopped the doorway, across whoso 
 shoulder Leather passed the following hints, in a low tone of 
 voice, to Mr. Sponge, as the latter stood drawing on his dog-skin 
 gloves, the observed, as he flattered himself, of all observers. 
 
 " Mind, now," said Leather, " this oss as a will of his own ; 
 though he seems so quiet like, he's not always to be depended on ;, 
 60 be on the look-out for squalls."
 
 <52 Mil. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 Sponge, having- had a glass of brandy, jusb mounted with the 
 air of a man thoroughly at home with his horse, and drawing the 
 rein, with a slight feel of the spur, passed on from the door to 
 make way for the redoubtable Hercules. Hercules was evidently 
 not in a good-humour. His ears were laid back, and the rolling 
 white eye showed mischief. Sponge saw all this, and turned 
 to see whether Thornton's clumsy, wash-ball seat, would be able 
 to control the fractious spirit of the horse. 
 
 " Whoa// ! " roared Thornton, as his first dive at the stirrup 
 missed, and was answered by a hearty kick out from the horse, 
 the " rvhoay'''' being given in a very different tone to the gentle, 
 ■coaxing style of Mr, Buckram and his men. Had it not been for 
 the brandy within and the lookers-on without, there is no saying 
 but Caingey would have declined the horse's further acquaintance. 
 As it was, he quickly repeated his attempt at the stirrup with the 
 ■same sort of domineering " ivlioaij^'' adding, as he landed in the 
 ■saddle and snatched at the reins, " Bo you ili'mlz I stole you ? " 
 
 Whatever the horse's opinion might he on that point, he didn't 
 seem to care to express it, for finding kicking alone wouldn't do, 
 he immediately commenced rearing too, and by a desperate plunge, 
 broke away from the groom, before Thornton had either got him 
 by the head or his feet in the stirrups. Three most desperate 
 bounds he gave, rising at the bit as though he would come back 
 over if the hold was not relaxed, and the fourth effort bringing 
 him to the opposite kerb-stone, he up again with such a bound 
 and impetus that he crashed right through Messrs. Frippery and 
 Flummery's fine plate-glass window, to the terror and astonishment 
 of their elegant young counter-skippers, who were busy arranging 
 their ribbons and finery for the day. Eight through the window 
 Hercules went, swiching through book muslins and bareges as he 
 would through a bullfinch, and attempting to make his exit by a 
 large plate-glass mirror against the wall of the cloak-room beyond, 
 which he dashed all to pieces with his head. Worse remains to be 
 told. " Multum in Parvo," seeing his old comrade's hind-quarters 
 disappearing through the window, just took the bit between his 
 teeth, and followed, in spite of Mr. Sponge's every effort to turn 
 him ; and when at length he got him hauled round, the horse was 
 found to have decorated himself with a sky-blue v-isite trimmed 
 with Honiton lace, which he wore like a charger on his way to the 
 Orusades, or a steed bearing a knight to the Eglinton tournament. 
 
 Quick as it happened, and soon as it was over, all Laverick 
 Wells seemed to have congregated in the street as our heroes rode 
 out of the folding glass-doors.
 
 ME. SFONGE'S SPOBTING TOUR. 
 
 63 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 AN OLD FRIEXn. 
 
 PORTRAIT OF LORD BULLFROG FORMLRLY OWNER OF HERCULES. 
 
 About a fortnight after the above catastrophe, and as the 
 recollection of it was nearly effaced by ]\Iiss Jumpheavy's abduc- 
 tion of Ensign Downley, our friend, Mr. AVaffles, on visiting his 
 stud at the four o'clock stable-hour, found a most respectable, 
 middle-aged, rosy-gilled, better-sort-of-farmer-looking man, 
 .straddling his tight drab-trousered legs, with a twisted ash plant
 
 C4 MR. SPONGE'S SFOIiTING TOUR. 
 
 propping his chin, behind the redoubtable Hercules. He had a 
 bran-new hat on, a Tel vet-collared bhic coat with metal buttons, 
 that anywhere bub in the searching glare and contrast of London 
 might have passed for a spic-and-span new one ; a small, striped, 
 step-collared toilanette vest ; and the aforesaid drab trousers, in 
 the right-hand pocket of which his disengaged hand kept fishing 
 up and slipping down an avalanche of silver, which made a plea- 
 sant musical accompaniment to his monetary conversation. On 
 seeing Mr. AVaffles, the stranger touched his hat, and appeared to 
 be ab'out to retire, when Mr. Figg, the stud-groom, thus addressed 
 his master : — 
 
 "This be Mr. Buckram, sir, of London, sir ; says he knows our 
 brown 'orse, sir." 
 
 " Ah, indeed," observed Mr. Waffles, taking a cigar from his 
 mouth ; "knows no good of him, I should think. What part of 
 London do you live in, Mr. Buckram ? " asked he. 
 
 "Why, I doesn't exactly live in London, my lord — that's to say, 
 sir — a little way out of it, you know — have a little hindepcndcnco 
 of my own, you understand." 
 
 " Hang it, how should I understand anything of the sort — never 
 set eyes on you before," replied Mr. Waffles. 
 
 The half-crowns now began to descend singly in the pocket, 
 keeping up a protracted jingle, like the notes of a lazy, undecided 
 musical snuff-box. By the time the last had dropped, Mr. Buckram 
 had collected himself sufiiciently to resume. 
 
 Taking the ash-plant away from his mouth, with which he had 
 been barricading his lips, he observed, 
 
 " I know'd that oss when Lord Bullfrog had him," nodding his 
 head at our old friend as he spoke. 
 
 " The deuce you did ! " observed Mr. Waffles ; " where was that ? " 
 "Li Leicestersheer," replied Mr. Buckram. "I have a haunt a& 
 lives at Mount Sorrel ; she has a little hindependence of her own, 
 and I goes down 'casionally to see her — in fact, I believes I'm her 
 hare. AVell, I was down there just at the beginnin' of the season, 
 the 'ounds met at Kirby Gate — a mile or two to the south, you 
 know, on the Leicester road — it was the fast day of the season, in 
 fact — and there was a great crowd, and I was one ; and havin' a 
 heye for an oss, I was struck with this one, you understand, bein', 
 as I thought, a 'ticklar nice 'un. Lord Bullfrog's man was a ridin^ 
 of him, and he kept him outside the crowd, showin' off his pints, 
 and passin' him backwards and forwards under people's noses, to 
 'tract the notish of the nohs,—parsccuiin, what I call — and I see'd 
 Mr. Sponge struck — I've known Mr. Sponge many years, and a 
 'ticklar nice gent he is— well, Mr. Sponge pulled hup, and said to 
 the grum, ' Who's o' that oss ? ' ' My Lor' Bullfrog's, sir,' said 
 the man. ' He's a deuced nice 'un,' observed Mr. Sponge, thinkin',
 
 ME. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 65 
 
 as he was a lord's, he might praise 'im, seein', in all probability, he 
 weren't for sale. ' He is tJtat,'' said the grum, patting him on the 
 neck, as though he were special fond on him. ' Is my lord out ? ' 
 asked Mr. Sponge. ' No, sir ; he's not comed down yet,' replied 
 the man, ' nor do I know when he will come. He's been down at 
 Bath for some time, 'sociatin' with the aldermen o' Bristol, and 
 has thrown up a vast o' bad flesh — two stun' sin' last season — and 
 he's afeared this oss won't be able to carry him, and so he writ to 
 me to take 'im out to-day to show 'im. ' He'd carry me, I think,' 
 said Mr. Sponge, making hup his mind on the moment, jist as he 
 makes hup his mind to ride at a fence — not that I think it's a good 
 plan for a gent to show that he's sweet on an oss, for they're sure 
 to make him pay for it. Howsomever, that's nouther here nor 
 there. Well, jist as Mr. Sponge said this. Sir Richard driv' hup, 
 and havin' got his oss, away we trotted to the goss jist below, and 
 the next thing I see'd was ]\Ir. Sponge leadin' the 'ole field on 
 this werry nag. Well, I heard no more till I got to Melton, for I 
 didn't go to my haunt's at Mount Sorrel that night, and I sa\v 
 little of the run, for my oss was rather puffy, livin' principally on 
 chafiF, bran mashes, Swedes, and soft food ; and when I got to 
 Melton, I heard 'ow Mr. Sponge had bought this oss," Mr. Buckram 
 nodding his head at the horse as he spoke, '' and 'ow that hii'd 
 given the matter o' two 'under'd — or I'm not sure it weren't two 
 'under'd-and-fifty guineas for 'im, and — " 
 
 " Well," interrupted Mr. Waffles, tired of his verbosity, " and 
 what did they say about the horse ? " 
 
 " Why," continued Mr. Buckram, thoughtfully, propping his 
 chin up with his stick, and drawing all the half-crowns up to the 
 top of his ]30cket again, " the fast 'spicious thing I heard was Sir 
 Digby Snaffle's grum, Sam, say in' to Captain Screwley's bat-man 
 grum, jist afore the George Inn door, 
 
 " ' Well, Jack, Tommy's sold the brown oss ! ' 
 
 " * N — — — K ! ' exclaimed Jack, starin' 'is eyes out, as if it 
 were unpossible. 
 
 " ' He 'rt5, though,' said Sam. 
 
 " ' Well, then, I 'ope the gemman's fond o' walkin',' exclaimed 
 Jack, bustin' out a laughin' and runnin' on. 
 
 "This rayther set me a thinkin'," continued Mr. Buckram, 
 dropping a second half-crown, which jinked against the nest-e^g 
 one left at the bottom, " and fearin' that Mr. Sponge had fallen 
 'mong the Philistines — which I was werry concerned about, for 
 he's a real nice gent, but thoughtless, as many young gents are 
 who 'ave plenty of tin — I made it my business to inquire 'bout 
 this oss ; and if he is the oss that I saw in Leicestersheer, and I 
 'ave little doubt about it (dropping two consecutive half-crowns as 
 he spoke), though I've not seen him out, I — " 
 
 F
 
 CO MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 "Ah ! well, 1 bought him of Mr. Sponge, who said he got him 
 from Lord Bullfrog," interrupted J\Ir. Waffles. 
 
 " Ah ! then he is the oss, in course," said Mr. Buckram, with a 
 sort of mournful chuck of the chin ; "he is the oss," repeated he ; 
 " well, then, he's a dangerous hanimal," added he, letting shp 
 three half-crowns. 
 
 " What does he do ? " asked Mr. Waffles. 
 
 " Do ! " repeated Mr. Buckram, " do ! he'll do for anybody." 
 
 " Indeed," responded Mr. Waffles ; adding, " how could j\Ir. 
 Sponge sell me such a brute ? " 
 
 "I doesn't mean to say, mind ye," observed Mr. Buckram, 
 drawing back three half-crowns, as though he had gone that much 
 too far, — " I doesn't mean to say, mind, that he's wot you call a 
 mistcchcd, runaway, rear-backwards-over-hanimal — but I mean to 
 say he's a ditHcultish oss to ride — himpetuous — and one that, if he 
 got the hupper 'and, would be werry likely to try and keep the 
 hupper 'and — you understand me ? " said he, eyeing Mr. Waffles 
 intently, and dropping four half-crowns as he spoke. 
 
 " I'm tellin' you nothin' but the truth," observed Mr. Buckram, 
 nfter a pause, adding, " in course it's nothin' to me, only bein' 
 down 'ere on a visit to a friend, and 'earin' that the oss were 'ere, 
 I made bold to look in to see whether it was 'im or no. N"o of- 
 fence, I 'o^Des," added he, letting go the rest of the silver, and 
 taking the prop from under his chin, with an obeisance as if he 
 was about to be off. 
 
 "Oh, no offence at all," rejoined J\Ir. Waffles, "no offence — 
 rather the contrary. Indeed, I'm much obliged to you for telling 
 me what you have done. Just stop half a minute," added he,, 
 thinking he might as well try and get something more out of him. 
 While Mr. AVaffles Avas considering his next question, Mr. Buckram 
 saved him the trouble of thinking by "leading the gallop" himself. 
 
 " I believe 'im to be a good oss, and I believe 'im to be a had' 
 oss," observed Mr. Buckram, sententiously. " I believe that oss, 
 with a bold rider on his back, and well away with the 'ounds, 
 would beat most osses goin', but it's the start that's the difficulty 
 with him ; for if, on the other 'and he don't incline to go, all the- 
 spurrin', and quiltin', and leatherin' in the world won't make 'im. 
 It'll be a mercy o' Providence if he don't cut out work for the 
 crowner some day." 
 
 " Hang the brute ! " exclaimed IMr. AVaffles, in disgust ; "I've a 
 good mind to have his throat cut." 
 
 " Nay," replied Mr. Buckram, brightening up, and stirring the 
 silver round and round in his pocket like a whirlpool, "nay," 
 replied he, " he's fit for summat better nor that." 
 
 "' Not much, I think," replied Mr. Waffles, pouting with dis- 
 gust. He now stood silent for a few seconds.
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 67 
 
 "Well, bub what did they mean by hoping Mr. Sponge waa 
 fond of walking ? " at length asked he. 
 
 " Oh, vy," replied Mr. Bnckram, gathering all the money up 
 again, " I believe it was this 'ere," beginning to drop them to half- 
 rainute time, and talking very slowly ; "the oss, I l3elieve, got the 
 better of Lord Bullfrog one day, somewhere a little on this side of 
 Thrussinton — that, you know, is where Sir 'Arry built his kennels 
 — between Mount Sorrel and Melton in fact — and haviu' got his 
 Lordship off", who, I should tell you, is an uncommon fat 'un, he 
 wouldn't let him on again, and he 'ad to lead him tlie matter of I 
 don't know 'ow many miles ; " Mr. Buckram letting go the whole 
 balance of silver in a rush, as if to denote that it was no joke. 
 
 " The hruic ! " observed Mr. Waffles, in disgust, adding, " Well, 
 as you seem to have a pretty good opinion of him, suppose you 
 buy him ; I'll let you have him cheap." 
 
 " 'Ord bless you, my lord — that's to say, sir ! " exclaimed Buck- 
 ram, shrugging up his shoulders, and raising his eyebrows as high 
 as they would go, " he'd be of no use to me, none votsomever — 
 shouldn't know wot to do with him — never do for 'arness — besides, 
 I 'ave a werry good machiner as it is — at least, he sarves my turn, 
 and that's everything, you know. No, sir, no," continued he, 
 slowly and thoughtfully, dropping the silver to half-minute time ; 
 " no, sir, no ; if I might make free with a gen'leman o' your 
 hclegance," continued he, after a pause, " I'd say, sell 'm to a post- 
 master or a buss-master, or some sich cattle as those, but I doesn't 
 think I'd put 'im into the 'ands of no gen'leman, that's to say if I 
 were you, at least," added he. 
 
 "Well, then, will you speculate on him yourself for the buss- 
 masters ? " asked Mr. Waffles, tired alike of the colloquy and the 
 quadruped. 
 
 "Oh, vy, as to that," replied Mr. Buckram, with an air of the 
 most perfect indifference, " vy, as to that — not bein' nouther a 
 post-master nor a buss-master — but 'aving, as I said before, a 
 little hindependence o' my own, \y, I couldn't in course give such 
 a bountiful price as if I could turn 'im to account at once ; but if 
 it would be any 'commodation to you," added he, working the 
 silver up into full cry, " I wouldn't mind givin' you the with 
 (worth) of 'im— say, deductin' expenses hup to town, and standin' 
 at livery afore I finds a customer — expenses hup to towu," con- 
 tinued Mr. Buckram, muttering to himself in apparent calculation, 
 " standin' at livery — three-and-sixpencc a night, grum, and so on 
 — I wouldn't mind," continued he briskly, " givin' of you twenty 
 pund for 'ira — if you'd throw me back a sov.," continued he, 
 seeing Mr. Waffles' brow didn't contract into the frown he expected 
 at having such a sum offered for his three hundied-guinea horse. 
 
 In the course of an hour, that wonderful invention of modern 
 
 F 2
 
 68 MB. SPONGE'S SPOETING TOUR, 
 
 times, — the Electric Telegraph — conveyed the satisfc.ctory words 
 " All right " to our friend Mr. Sponge, just as he was sitting down 
 to dinner in a certain sumptuously sanded coffee-room in Conduit 
 Street, who forthwith scaled and posted the following ready- 
 written letter : — 
 
 " Baxtam Hotel, Bond Street. 
 
 "Sir, 
 
 " I have T)cen greatly surprised and hurt to hear tJiat you have 
 thought fit to impeach my integrity, and insinuate that I had tahcn 
 you in loith the hroivn horse. Such insimuxtions touch one in a 
 tender point — on^s self-respect. The 'bargain, I may remind you, 
 teas of your own seelcing, and I told yon at the time I kneiv nothing 
 of the horse, having onlg ridden him once, and I also told you ivhere 
 I got him. To slioiv how unjust and umvorthy your insinuatiotis 
 have heeji, I have now to inform you ilmt, having ascertained that 
 Lord Bullfrog Iznew he was vicious, I insisted on his lordship 
 talking him haclc, and have only to add, that, on my receiving him 
 from you, I ivill return you your hill. 
 
 '"' I am. Sir, your olcdient servant, 
 
 " II. SroxGE. 
 
 *• To W. Waffles, Esq., Imperial Hotel, Lavcrick Wells." 
 
 Mr. Waffles Avas a good deal vexed and puzzled when he got 
 this letter. He had parted with the horse, who was gone no one 
 knew where, and ]\Ir. Waffles felt that he had used a certain free- 
 dom of speech in speaking of the transaction. Mr. Sponge having 
 left Laverick Wells, had, perhaps, led him a little astray witli his 
 tongue — slandering an absent man being generally thought a 
 ]irctty safe game ; it now seemed J\Ir. Waffles was all wrong, and 
 might have had his money back if he had not been in such a hurry 
 to part with the horse. Like a good many people, he thought he 
 had best eat up his words, which he did in the following 
 manner : — 
 
 " I-aipeuial Hotel, Lavekick Wells. 
 
 "Dear Mr. Spoxge, 
 
 " You are quite misialien in supposing that I ever insi7maie(l 
 anything against you ivith regard to the horse. I said he was a 
 least, and it seems Lord Bullfrog admits it. However, never mind 
 anything more about him, though L am equally obliged to you for 
 the trouble you have taJccn. The fact is, I have parted ivith him. 
 
 " ^Ye are having capital sport ; never go out but ive Mil, some- 
 times a brace, sometimes a leash of foxes. Hoping you are recovered 
 from the effects of your ride through the window, and will soonrejoiii 
 us, believe me, clear 3Ir. Sponge, .. yours very sincerely, 
 
 "W. Waffles."
 
 Mr.. SPONGE'S SPORTTN-Q TOUP. G9 
 
 To "which Mr. Sponge shortly after rejoined as fohows : — 
 
 " Baxtam Hotel, Bond Street. 
 ''Dear "Waffles, 
 
 " Yours to hand — / am glad to receive a disclaimer of any 
 wiwortJnj imputations respecting the hroivn horse. Such insinuations 
 arc onlg for horse-dealers, not for men of high gcntlemanlg feeling. 
 
 '■'■ I am sorry to sag ive have, not got out of the horse as I hoped. 
 Lord Bullfrog, who is a most caniajilccroiis felloiv, insists vpon 
 having him back, according to the terms of my letter ; I mvst 
 therefore trouble you to hunt Idm vp, and let us accommodate his 
 lordship ivilh him again. If you tvill say ivhere he is, I may very 
 likely know some one who can assist us in getting him. You will 
 excuse this trouble, I hope, considering that it teas to serve you that 
 I moved in the matter, and insisted on returning him to his lordship, 
 at a loss ofi)Ol. to myself, having only given 2b0l.for him. 
 ^' I remain, dear Waffles, 
 
 " Yours sincerely, 
 
 "H. Sponge. 
 
 " To W, Waffles, Esq., Imperial Hotel, Lavciick Wells."' 
 
 " Lavekick Wells. 
 " Dear, Sponge, 
 
 " Tm afraid Bullfrog will have to make himself happy iviihout 
 his horse, for I haven't the slightest idea luhcre he is. I sold him. 
 to a cockney fed, country fie d sort of a man, ivho said he had a small 
 ' liindependence of his own ' — somewhere, I believe, about London. 
 He didn't yive much for him, as you, may suppose, ichcn I tell yon 
 lie paid for him chiefty in silver. If I were you, I woiddnH 
 trouble myself about him. 
 
 " Yours very truly, 
 
 *' ^Y. Waffles. 
 "ToH. Sponge, Esq." 
 
 Our hero addressed Mr. Waffles again, in the course of a few 
 days, as follows : — 
 
 "Dear AVaffles, 
 
 ^' I am sorry to say Bullfrog u'cnH be put off iviihout the horse. 
 JTe says I insisted on his taking him back, and now he insists on 
 having him. I have had his lawyer, Mr Chousam, of the great firm 
 of Chousam, Doem, and Co., of Throgmorfon-slreet, at me, icho says 
 his lordsldp tcill plccy old gooscberrg with lis iftvo don't return hiui 
 by Saturday. Fray put on all slcam, and look him up. 
 
 " Yours in haste, 
 " To W. Waffles, Esq." " H. SPOXGE.
 
 VO 3IIi. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 Mr. Waffles did put on all steam, and so successfully that he ran 
 the horse to ground at our friend Mr. Buckram's. Though the 
 horse was in the box adjoining the house, Mr. Buckram declared 
 he had sold him to go to " Hireland ; " to ^Yhat county he really 
 couldn't say, nor to what hunt ; all he knew was, the gentleman 
 said he was a " captin," and lived in a castle. 
 
 Mr. Waffles communicated the intelligence to Sponge, requesting 
 him to do the best he could for him, who reported what his " best" 
 was in the following letter ; — 
 
 " Dear Waffles, 
 
 " My laivyer has seen Chousam, ami deuced sliff he says lie 
 was. It seems Bullfrog is indignant at being accused of a " do ; " 
 and having got me in the ivrong box, by not being able to return the 
 horse as claimed, he meant to loorlz me. At first Chousam ivould 
 hear of nothing but ' I — a — w^ Bullfrog's ivounded honour could 
 only be salved that ivay. Gradually, however, we diverged from 
 I — a — to to £ — s. — d. ; and the upshot of it is, that he luill advise 
 his lordship to take 2501. and be done with it. It's a bore ; but I 
 did it for the best, and shall be glad now to know your wishes on the 
 subject. Meanwhile, I remain, 
 
 ** Yours, very truly, 
 
 "H. Spoxge. 
 " To W. Waffles, Esq." 
 
 Formerly a remittance by post used to speak for itself. The 
 teuder-fingered clerks could detect an enclosure, however skilfully 
 folded. Few people grudged double postage in those days. Now 
 one letter is so much like another, that nothing short of opening 
 them makes one any wiser. Mr. Sponge received ]\Ir. Waffles' 
 answer from the hands of the waiter with the sort of feeling that it 
 Avas only the continuation of their correspondence. Judge, then, 
 of his delight, when a nice, clean, crisp promissory note, on a five- 
 shilling stamp, fell quivering to the floor. A few lines, expressive 
 of Mr. Waffles' gratitude for the trouble our hero had taken, and 
 hopes that it would not be inconvenient to take a note at two 
 months, accompanied it. At first Mr. Sponge was overjoyed. It 
 would set him up for the season. He thought how he'd spend it. 
 He had half a mind to go to Melton. Tiicre were no heiresses 
 there, or else he would. Leamington would do, only it was 
 rather expensive. Then he thought he might as well have done 
 Waffles a little more. 
 
 " Coniown.([ it ! " exclaimed Sponge, " I don't do myself justice ! 
 Pm too much of a gentleman ! I should have had five 'undcr'd— 
 such an ass as Waffles deserves to be done ! "
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 A NEW SCHEME. 
 
 MH. .SI'llNOK IN aOOI) FEATllF.i;. 
 
 Our friend Soapey was now in good feather ; be had got a large 
 price for his good-for-nothing horse, with a very handsome l)onus 
 for not getting him back, making him better off than he had been 
 for some time. Gentleman of his calibre are generally extremely 
 affluent in everything except cash. They have bills without end — 
 bills that nobody will touch, and book debts in abundance — book 
 debts entered with metallic pencils in curious little clapped pocket- 
 books, with such utter disregard of method that it would puzzle an 
 accountant to comb them into anything like shape. 
 
 It is true, what Mr. Sponge got from Mr. Waffles were bills — 
 but they were good bills, and of such reasonable date as the most 
 exacting of the Jew tribe would " do " for twenty per cent. ]Mr.
 
 72 ME. SPONGE'S SFOBTING TOUR. 
 
 Spon,2:e determined to keep the game alive, and getting Hercules 
 and Multum in Parvo togetlier again, he added a showy piebald 
 liack, that Buckram had just got from some circus people, who had 
 not been able to train him to their work. 
 
 The question now was, where to manoeuvre this imposing stud — 
 a problem that Mr. Sponge quickly solved. 
 
 Among the many strangers who rushed into indiscriminate 
 friendship with our hero at Laverick Wells, was Mr. Jawleyford, of 
 
 Jawleyford Court, in shire. Jawleyford was a great humbug. 
 
 He was a fine, off-hand, open-hearted, cheery sort of fellow, who was 
 always delighted to see you, would start at the view, and stand 
 with open arms in the middle of the street, as though quite overjoyed 
 at the meeting. Though he never gave dinners, nor anything 
 where he was, he asked everybody, at least everybody who did give 
 them, to visit him at Jawleyford Court. If a man was fond of fish- 
 ing, he must come to Jawleyford Court, lie must, indeed ; he would 
 take no refusal, he wouldn't leave him alone till he promised. He 
 would show him such fishing — no waters in the world to compare 
 with his. The Shannon and the Tweed were not to be spoken of 
 in the same day as his waters in the Swiftley. 
 
 Shooting, the same way. " By Jove ! are you a shooter ? Well, 
 I'm clelighted to hear it. Well, now, we shall be at home all 
 September, and up to the middle of October, and you must just 
 come to us at your own time, and I will give you some of the 
 finest partridge and pheasant shooting you ever saw in your 
 life ; Norfolk can show nothing to what I can. Now, my good 
 fellow say the word ; do say you'll come, and then it will be a 
 settled thing, and I shall look forward to it with such pleasure ! " 
 
 He was equally magnanimous about hunting, though, like a 
 good many people who have " had their hunts," he pretended that 
 his day was over, though he was a most zealous j)romoter of the 
 sport. So he asked everybody Avho didhwit to come and see him ; 
 and Avhat with his hearty, affable manner, and the unlimited nature 
 of his invitations, he generally passed for a deuced hospitable, 
 good sort of fellow, and came in for no end of dinners and other 
 entertainments for his wife and daughters, of which he had two — 
 daughters, we mean, not wives. His time was about up at Laverick 
 Wells when Mr. Sponge arrived there ; nevertheless, during the 
 few days that remained to them, Mr. Jawleyford contrived to scrape 
 a pretty intimate acquaintance with a gentleman whose wealth was 
 reported to equal, if it did not exceed, that of Mr. Waffles himself. 
 The following was the closing scene between them : — 
 
 "Mr. Sponge," said he, getting our hero by both hands in 
 Culeyford's Billiard Eoom, and shaking them as though he could 
 not bear the idea of separation ; " my dear Mr. Sponge," added 
 he, '* I grieve to say we're going to-morrow ; I had hoped to have
 
 ME. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUIl. Td 
 
 stayed a little loufrer, and to hare enjoyed tlie pleasure of your most 
 agreeable society." (This was true ; he would have stayed, only 
 his banker wouldn't let him have any more money.) " But, how- 
 ever, I won't say adieu," continued he ; " no, I ivonH say adieu ! 
 I live, as you perhaps know, in one of the best hunting counties 
 in England — my Lord Scaraperdale's — Scamperdale and I are 
 like brothers ; I can do whatever I like with him — he has, I may 
 say, the finest pack of hounds in the world ; his huntsman, Jack 
 Frostyface, I really believe, cannot be surpassed. Come, then, my 
 dear fellow," continued Mr. Jawleyford, increasing the grasp and 
 sliake of the hands, and looking most earnestly in Sponge's 
 face, as if deprecating a refusal ; " come then, my dear fellow, 
 and see us ; we will do whatever we can to entertain and make 
 you comfortable. Scamperdale shall keep our side of the country 
 till you come ; there are capital stables at Lucksford, close to the 
 station, and you shall have a stall for your hack at Jawleyford, and 
 a man to look after him, if you like ; so now, don't say nay — your 
 time shall be ours — we shall be at home all the rest of the winter, 
 and I flatter myself, if you once come down, you will be inclined 
 to repeat your visit ; at least, I hojje soy 
 
 There are two common sayings ; one, " that birds of a feather 
 flock together ; " the other, " that two of a trade never agree ; " 
 Avhich often seem to us to contradict each other in the actual inter- 
 course of life. Humbugs certainly have the knack of drawing 
 together, and yet they are always excellent friends, and wilt 
 vouch for the goodness of each other in a way that few straight- 
 forward men think it Avorth their while to adopt with regard 
 to indifferent people. Indeed, humbugs are not always content 
 to defend their absent brother humbugs when they hear them 
 abused, but they will frequently lug each other in neck and crop, 
 apparently for no other purpose than that of proclaiming 
 Avhat excellent fellows they are, and see if anybody will take up 
 the cudgels against them. 
 
 Mr. Sponge, albeit with a considerable cross of the humbug him- 
 self, and one who perfectly understood the usual worthlessness of 
 general invitations, was yet so taken with Mr. Jawleyford's hail- 
 fellow-well-met, earnest sort of manner, that, adopting the 
 convenient and famihar solution in such matters, thao there is no 
 rule without an exception, concluded that Mr. Jawleyford teas 
 the exception, and really meant what he said. 
 
 Independently of the attractions offered by hunting, which were 
 both strong and cogent, we have said there were two young ladies, 
 to whom fame attached the enormous fortunes common in cases 
 Avhere there is a large property and no sous. Still Sponge was a 
 wary bird, and his experience of the Avorthlcssness of most general 
 invitations made him think it just possible that it might not suit
 
 74 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 Mr. Jawleyford to receive him now, at the particular time he 
 wanted to go ; so after duly considering the case, and also the 
 impressive nature of the invitation, so recently given, too, he deter- 
 mined not to give Jawleyford the chance of refusing him, but just 
 to say he was coming, and drop down upon him before he could 
 say "no." Accordingly, he penned the following epistle : — 
 
 " Bantam Hotel, Bond-Street, London. 
 "Dear Jawleyfoed, 
 
 " / purpose heing ivith you to-morrow, hif the express train, 
 7vMch I see, liy Bradshaw, arrives at Lucksford a quarter to three. 
 I shall only bring two hunters and a hack, so perhaps you could 
 oblige me bg taking tliem in for the short time I shall slag, as it 
 loould not be convenient for me to separate them. Hoping to find 
 Mrs. Jawleyford and the young ladies ivell, I remain, dear sir, 
 
 " Yours very truly, 
 
 "H. Spoxge. 
 " To — Jawleyford, Esq., J.iwlej'ford Court, Lucksford." 
 
 " Curse the fellow ! " exclaimed Jawleyford, nearly choking 
 himself with a fish bone, as he opened and read the foregoing at 
 breakfast. " Curse the fellow ! " he repeated, stamping the letter 
 under foot, as though he would crush it to atoms. "Whoever 
 saw such a piece of impudence as that ! " 
 
 " What's the matter, my dear ? " inquired Mrs. Jawleyford, 
 alarmed lest it was her dunning jeweller writing again. 
 
 " Matter ! " shrieked Jawleyford, in a tone that sounded through 
 the thick wall of the room, and caused the hobbling old gardener 
 on the terrace to peep in at the heavy-mullioned window. "Matter! " 
 repeated he, as though he had got his coup de grace ; " look 
 there,''' added he, handing over the letter. 
 
 " Oh, my dear," rejoined Mrs. Jawleyford, soothingly, as soon 
 as she saw it was not what she expected. " Oh, my dear, I'm sure 
 there's nothing to make you put yourself so much out of the way." 
 
 " No ! " roared Jawleyford, determined not to be done out of his 
 grievance. " No ! " repeated he ; " do you call that nothing ? " 
 
 "Why, nothing to make yourself unhappy about," replied 
 Mrs. Jawleyford, rather pleased than otherwise ; for she was glad 
 it was not fi-om Eings, the jeweller, and, moreover, hated the 
 monotony of Jawleyford Court, and was glad of anything to relieve 
 it. If she had had her own way, she would have gadded about at 
 watering-places all the year round. 
 
 " Well," said Jawleyford, with a toss of the head and a shrug 
 of resignation, "you'll have me in gaol : I see that." 
 
 " Nay, my dear J.," rejoined his wife, soothingly ; " I'm sure 
 you've plenty of money."
 
 MR. JAAVLEYFOED . . . '-WHAT A LANDLORD OUGHT TO BE." 
 
 [P. 75.
 
 HE. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 75 
 
 " Have I ! " ejaculated Jawleyford. " Do you suppose, if I liad. 
 I'd have Iclt Laverick Wells without paying Miss Bastlebcy, or. 
 given a bill at three months for the house-rent ? " 
 
 "Well, but my dear, you've nothing to do but tell Mr. Screwcm- 
 tight to get you some money from the tenants." 
 
 " Money from the tenants ! " replied Mr. Jawleyford. *' Serewcm- 
 tight tells me he cau't get another farthing from any man on the 
 estate." 
 
 " Oh, pooh ! " said ]\Irs. Jawleyford ; "you're far too good to 
 them. I always say Screwemtight looks far more to their interest 
 than he docs to yours." 
 
 Jawleyford, wc may observe, was one of the rather numerous 
 race of paper-booted, pen-and-ink landowners. He always dressed 
 in the country as he would in St. James's-street, and his communi- 
 cations with his tenantry were chiefly confined to dining with them 
 twice a year in the great entrance-hall, after Mr. Screwemtight 
 had eased them of their cash in the steward's-room. Then Mr. 
 Jawleyford would shine forth the very impersonification of what 
 a landlord ought to be. Dressed in the height of the fashion, as if by 
 his clothes to give the lie to his words, he would expatiate on the 
 delights of such meetings of equality ; declare that, next to those 
 spent with his family, the only really happy moments of his life 
 were those when he was surrounded by his tenantry ; he doated on 
 the manly character of the English farmer. Then he would advert 
 to the great antiquity of the Jawleyford family, many generations 
 of whom looked down upon them from the walls of the old hall ; 
 some on their war-steeds, some armed cap-a-pie, some in court- 
 dresses, some in Spanish ones, one in a white dress with gold brocade 
 breeches and a hat with an enormous plume, old Jawleyford (father 
 of the present one) in the Windsor uuiforra, and our friend him- 
 self, the very prototype of what then stood before them. Indeed, 
 lie had been painted in the act of addressing his hereditary chaw- 
 bacons in the hall in which the picture was suspended. There he 
 stood, with his bright auburn hair (now rather badger-pied, perhaps, 
 but still very passable by candle-light) — his bright auburn hair, wc 
 say, swept boldly off his lofty forehead, his hazy grey eyes flashing 
 with the excitement of drink and animation, his left hand reposing 
 on the hip of his well-fitting black pantaloons, while the right 
 one, radiant with rings, and trimmed with upturned wristband, 
 sawed the air, as he rounded off the periods of the well- 
 accustomed saws. 
 
 Jawleyford, like a good many people, w^as very hospitable when 
 in full fig — two soups, two fishes, and the necessary concomitants; 
 but he would see any one far enough before he would give him a 
 dinner merely because he wanted one. That sort of ostentatious 
 banqueting has about brought country society in general to a
 
 76 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 dead lock. People tire of the constant revision of plate, linen, 
 and china. 
 
 J\lrs. Jawleyford, on the other hand, was a very rough-and- 
 ready sort of woman, never put out of her way ; and though she 
 constantly preached the old doctrine that girls "' are much better 
 single than married," she was always on the look-out for 
 opportunities of contradicting her assertions. 
 
 She was an Irish lady, witli a pedigree almost as long as 
 Jawleyford's, but more compressible pride, and if she couldn't get 
 a duke, she would take a marquis or an earl, or even put up with 
 a rich commoner. 
 
 The perusal, therefore, of Sponge's letter, operated differently 
 upon her to what it did upon her husband, and though she would 
 have liked a little more time, perhaps, she did not care to take 
 him as they were. Jawleyford, however, resisted violently. It 
 would be most particularly inconvenient to him to receive 
 company at that time. If Mr. Sponge had gone through the 
 whole three hundred and sixty-five days in the year, he could 
 not have hit upon a more inconvenient one for him. Besides, he 
 had no idea of people writing in that sort of a way, saying they 
 were coming, Avithout giving him the chance of saying no. 
 
 " Well, but my dear, I daresay you asked him," observed 
 Mrs. Jawleyford. 
 
 Jawleyford was silent, the scene in the billiard-room recurring 
 to his mind, 
 
 "I've often told you, my dear," continued Mrs. Jawleyford, 
 kindly, " that you shouldn't be so free with your invitations if 
 you don't want people to come ; things are very different now to 
 what they were in the old coaching and posting days, when it 
 took a day and a night and half the next day to get here, and I 
 don't know how much money besides. You might then invite 
 people with safety, but it is very different now, when they have 
 nothing to do but put themselves into the express-train and 
 whisk down in a few hours." 
 
 " Well, but confound him, I didn't ask his horses," exclaimed 
 Jawleyford ; "nor will I have them either," continued he, with a 
 jerk of the head, as he got up and rang the bell, as though 
 determined to put a stop to that at all events. 
 
 " Samuel," said he, to the dirty page of a boy who answered the 
 summons, " tell John Watson to go down to the Raihvay Tavern 
 directly, and desire them to get a three-stalled stable ready for a 
 gentleman's horses that are coming to-day — a gentleman of the 
 name of Sponge," added he, lest any one else should chance to 
 come and usurp them — " and tell John to meet the express train, 
 and tell the geiitleman's groom where it is."
 
 3111. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 77 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 JAWLEYFORD COURT. 
 
 True to a minute, the hissing engine drew the swiftly-gliding 
 train beneath the elegant and costly station at Lucksford — an 
 edifice presenting a rare contrast to the wretched old red-tiled, five- 
 windowed house, called the Red Lion, where a brandy-faced 
 blacksmith of a landlord used to emerge from the adjoining 
 smitliy, to take charge of any one who might arrive per coach for 
 that part of the country. jMr. Sponge was quickly on the plat- 
 form, seeing to the detachment of his horse-box. 
 
 Jast as the cavalry was about got into marching order, up rode 
 John Watson, a ragamuffin-looking gamekeeper, in a green plush 
 coat, with a very tarnished laced hat, mounted on a very shaggy 
 white pony, whose hide seemed quite impervious to the visitations 
 of a heavily-knotted dogwhip, with which he kept saluting his 
 shoulders and sides. 
 
 "Please, sir," said he, riding up to Mr. Sponge, with a toucli of 
 the old hat, " I've got you a capital three-stall stable at the Rail- 
 way Tavern, here," pointing to a newly-built brick house standing 
 on the rising ground. 
 
 " Oh ! but I'm going to Jawleyford Court," responded our 
 friend, thinking the man was the " tout" of the tavern. 
 
 " Mr. Jawleyford don't take in horses, sir," rejoined the man, 
 with another touch of tlie hat. 
 
 "He'll take in mine,'" observed Mr. Sponge, with an air of 
 .authority. 
 
 " Oh, I beg pardon, sir," replied the keeper, thinking he Iiad 
 made a mistake ; " it was Mr. Sponge whose horses I had to be- 
 speak stalls for," touching his hat profusely as he spoke. 
 
 " Well, this be Mister Sponge," observed' Leather, who had been 
 listening attentively to what passed. 
 
 " 'Deed ! " said the keeper, again turning to our hero, with an 
 '* I beg pardon, sir, but the stable is for you then, sir, — for 
 Mr. Sponge, sir." 
 
 " How do you know that ? " demanded our friend. 
 
 " 'Cause Mr. Spigot, the butler, says to me, says he, ' Mr. Watson,' 
 says he — my name's Watson, you see," continued the speaker, 
 sawing away at his hat, " my name's Watson, you see, and I'm 
 the head gamekeeper. 'Mr. Watson,' says he, 'you must go down 
 to the tavern and order a three-stall stable for a gentleman of the 
 name of Sponge, whose horses are a comin' to-day ; ' and in course 
 I've come 'cordingly," added AVatson.
 
 78 ME. SPONGE'S SFOBTJNG TOUR. 
 
 "A ///rice-staird stable!" observed Mr. Sponge, with au emphasis. 
 
 " A three-stall'd stable," repeated Mr. Watson. 
 
 " Confound him, but he said he'd take in a hack at all events," 
 observed Sponge, ^yith a sidcway shake of the head ; " and a 
 hack he shall take in, too," he added. " Are your stables full at 
 Jawleyford Court ? " he asked. 
 
 " 'Ord bless you, no, sir," replied Watson with a leer ; '* there's 
 nothiu' in them but a couple of weedy hacks and a pair of old 
 worn-out carriage-horses." 
 
 " Then I can get this hack taken in, at all events," observed 
 Sponge, laying his hand on the neck of the piebald as he spoke. 
 
 " Why, as to that," replied Mr. AYatson, with a shake of the 
 head, " I can't say nothin'." 
 
 " I miisf, Viovgh,'''' rejoined Sponge, tartly ; " he said he'd take 
 in my hack, or I wouldn't have come." 
 
 " AYell, sir," observed the keeper, " you know best, sir." 
 
 " Confounded screw ! " muttered Sponge, turning away to give 
 his orders to Leather. " I'll ivorlc him for it," he added. " He 
 sha'n't get rid of me in a hurry — at least not unless I can get a 
 better billet elsewhere." 
 
 Having arranged the parting with Leather, and got a cart to 
 carry his things, Mr. Sponge mounted the piebald, and put 
 himself under the guidance of Watson to be conducted to his 
 destination. The first part of the journey was performed in 
 silence, Mr. Sponge not being particularly well j^leased at the 
 reception his request to have his horses taken in had met with. 
 This silence he might perhaps have preserved throughout had it 
 not occurred to him, that he might pump something out of the 
 servant about the family he was going to visit. 
 
 *' That's not a bad-like old cob of yours," he observed, drawing 
 I'ein so as to let the shaggy white come alongside of him. 
 
 " He belies his looks, then," replied Watson, Avith a grin of his 
 cadaverous face, "for he's just as bad a beast as ever looked 
 through a bridle. It's a parfect disgrace to a gentleman to put a 
 man on such a beast." 
 
 Sponge saw the sort of man he had gob to deal with, and 
 proceeded accordingly. 
 
 " Have you lived long with Mr. Jawleyford ? " he asked. 
 
 " No, nor icill I, if I can help it," replied Watson, with another 
 grin and another touch of the old hat. Touching his hat was 
 about the only piece of propriety he was up to. 
 
 " What, he's not a brick then ? " asked Sponge. 
 
 " Mean man,^'' replied Watson with a shake of the head ; 
 '■'' mean man ^'' he repeated. "You're nowise connected with the 
 fam'ly, I s'pose ?" he asked with a look of suspicion lest he might 
 be committing himself.
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 70 
 
 " Xo,'' replied Sponge ; " no ; merely an acquaintance. We 
 mcb at Laverick "Wells, and he pressed me to come and see him." 
 
 " Indeed ! " said Watson, feeling at ease again. 
 
 " Who did you live with before you came here ? " asked Mr. 
 Sponge, after a pause. 
 
 " I lived many years — the greater part of my life, indeed — with 
 Sir Harry Swift. He was a real gentleman now, if you like — 
 free, open-handed gentleman — none of your close shavin', chcese- 
 parin' sort of gentlemen, or imitation gentlemen, as I calls them, 
 but a man who knew what was due to good servants and gave 
 them it. We had good wages, and all the proper 'reglars.' Bless 
 you, I could sell a new suit of clothes there every year, instead of 
 having to wear the last keeper's cast-offs, and a hat that would 
 disgrace anything but a flay-crow. If the linin' wasn't stuffed 
 lull of gun waddin' it would be over my nose," he observed, 
 taking it off and adjusting tlie layer of wadding as he spoke. 
 
 " You should have stuck to Sir Harry," observed Mr. Sponge. 
 
 " I c/w/," rejoined Watson, " I did, I stuck to him to the last. 
 I'd have been with him now, only he couldn't get a manor at 
 Boulogne, and a keeper was of no use without one." 
 
 " What, he went to Boulogne, did he ? " observed Mr. Sponge. 
 
 '• Aye, the more's the pity," replied Watson. " He was a 
 gentleman, every inch of him," he added, with a shake of the head 
 and a sigh, as if recurring to more prosperous times. " He was 
 Avhat a gentleman ought to be," he continued, " not one of your 
 poor, pryin', inquisitive critturs, what's always fancyin' themselves 
 cheated. I ordered everything in my department, and paid for it 
 too ; and never had a bill disputed or even commented on. I might 
 have charged for a ton of powder, and never had nothin' said." 
 
 " Mr. jawleyford's not likely to find his way to Boulogne, I 
 suppose ? " observed Mr. Sponge. 
 
 " Not he ! " exclaimed Watson, " not he I — safe bird — veri/.'^ 
 
 " He's rich, I suppose ? " continued Sponge, with an air of 
 indifference. 
 
 " Why, / should say he was ; though others say he's not," 
 replied Watson, cropping the old pony with the dog-whip, as it 
 nearly fell on its nose. " He can't lail to be rich, with all his 
 property ; though they're desperate hands for gaddin' about ; 
 always off to some waterin' place or another, lookin' for husbands, 
 I suppose. I wonder," he continued, " that gentlemen can't settle 
 at home, and amuse themselves with coursin' and shootin'." Mr. 
 AVatson, like many servants, thinking that the bulk of a gentleman's 
 income should be spent in p)i'omoting the particular sport over 
 which they preside. 
 
 With this and similar discourse, they beguiled the short distance 
 between the station and the Court — a distance, however, that
 
 80 ME. SPONGE'S SPOETING TOUB. 
 
 looked considerably greater after the flying rapidity of the rail. 
 But for these occasional returns to terra firma, people would begin 
 to fancy themselves birds. After rounding a large but gently 
 swelling hill, over the summit of which the road, after the feshion 
 of old roads, led, our traveller suddenly looked down upon the 
 wide vale of Sniperdown, with Jawleyford Court glittering with a 
 bright open aspect, on a fine, gradual elevation, above the broad, 
 smoothly-gliding river. A clear atmosphere, indicative either of 
 rain or frost, disclosed a vast tract of wild, flat, ill-cultivated- 
 looking country to the sor.th, little interrupted by woods or signs 
 of population ; the whole losing itself, as it were, in an indistinct 
 gray outline, commingling with the fleecy white clouds in the 
 distance. 
 
 " Here Ave be," observed Watson, with a nod towards where a 
 tarnished red-and-gold flag floated, or rather flapped lazily in the 
 winter's breeze, above an irregular mass of towers, turrets, and 
 odd-shaped chimneys. 
 
 Jawleyford Court was a fine old mp.nsiou, partaking more of the 
 character of a castle than a Court, with its keep and towers, 
 battlements, heavily grated mullioned windows, and machicolated 
 o-allery. It stood, sombre and gray, in the midst of gigantic but 
 now leafless sycamores, — trees that had to thank themselves for 
 being sycamores ; for, had they been oaks, or other marketable 
 wood, they would have been made into bonnets or shawls long 
 before now. The building itself was irregular, presenting ditferenfc 
 sorts of architecture, from pure Gothic down to some even per- 
 fectly modern buildings ; still, viewed as a whole, it was massive 
 and imposing : and as Mr. Sponge looked down upon it, he 
 thought far more of Jawleyford and Co. than he did as the mere 
 occupants of a modest, white-stuccoed, grcen-veraudahed house, at 
 Laverick Wells. Nor did his admiration diminish as he advanced, 
 and, crossing by a battlemented bridge over the moat, he viewed 
 the massive character of the buildings rising grandly from their 
 rocky foundation. An imposing, solemn-toned old clock began 
 striking four, as the horsemen rode under the Gothic portico, 
 whose notes re-echoed and reverberated, and at last lost themselves 
 among the towers and pinnacles of the building. Sponge, for a 
 moment, was awe-stricken at the magnificence of the scene, feeling 
 that it was what he would call " a good many cuts above him ; " 
 but he soon recovered his wonted impudence. 
 
 " He would have me," thought he, recalling the pressing nature 
 of the Jawleyford invitation. 
 
 " If you'll hold my nag," said Watson, throwing himself off the 
 shaggy white, " I'll ring the bell," added he, running up a wide 
 flight of steps to the hall-door. A riotous peal announced the 
 arrival.
 
 2IE. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 81 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE JAY;LEYF0RD ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 JAWLEYIORD UF JAWLEYFOED COURT. 
 
 THE loud peal of the Jawley- 
 ford Court door-bell, an- 
 nouncing- Mr. Sponge's 
 arrival, with which we closed 
 the last chapter, found the 
 inhabitants variously en- 
 gaged preparing for his 
 reception. 
 
 Mrs. Jawlejford, with the 
 
 aid of a very indifl'ercnt 
 
 cook, was endeavouring to 
 
 arrange a becoming dinner ; 
 
 the young ladies, with the 
 
 aid of a somewhat better 
 
 sort of maid, were attractify- 
 
 ing themselves, each looking 
 
 with considerable jealousy 
 
 on the efforts of the other ; 
 
 and Mr. Jawleyford was 
 
 crotting from room to room, 
 
 eyeing the various pictures of himself, wondering which was now 
 
 tiie most like, and watching the emergence of curtains, carpets, 
 
 and sofas from their brown-holland covers. 
 
 A gleam of sunshine seemed to reign throughout the mansion ; 
 the long-covered furniture appearing to have gained freshness by 
 its retirement, just as a newly done-up hat surprises the wearer by its 
 goodness ; a few days, however, soon restore the defects of either. 
 All these arrangements were suddenly brought to a close by the 
 peal of the door-bell, just as the little stage-tinkle of a theatre stops 
 preparation, and compels the actors to stand forward as they are. 
 Mrs. Jawleyford threw aside her silk apron, and took a hasty 
 glance of her face in the old eagle-topped mirror in the still-room ; 
 the young ladies discarded their coarse dirty pocket-handkerchiefs, 
 and gently drew elaborately-fringed ones through their taper 
 fingers to give them an air of use, as they took a hasty review of 
 themselves in the swing mirrors ; the housemaid hurried off with 
 a whole armful of brown holland ; and Jawleyford threw himself 
 into attitude in an elaborately-carved, richly-cushioned, easy chair, 
 with a Disraeli's "Life of Lord George Bentinck " in his hand. 
 
 6
 
 82 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUP. 
 
 But Jawleyf Orel's thoughts were far from his book. He was sitting 
 on thorns lest there might not be a proper guard of honour to 
 receive Mr. Sponge at the enti-ance. 
 
 Jawleyford, as we said before, was not the man to entertain 
 unless he could do it "properly ; " and, as we all have our pitch- 
 noDes of propriety up to which we play, we may state that Jawley- 
 ford's note was a butler and two footmen. A butler and two 
 footmen he looked upon as perfectly indispensable to receiving 
 company. He chose to have two footmen to follow the butler, 
 Avho followed the gentleman to the spacious flight of steps leading 
 from the great hall to the portico, as he mounted his horse. The 
 world is governed a good deal by appearances. 
 
 Mr. Jawleyford started life with two most unimpeachable Johns. 
 They were nearly six feet high, heads well up, and legs that might 
 have done for models for a sculptor. They powdered with the 
 greatest propriety, and by tAvo o'clock each day were silk-stockinged 
 <and pumped in full-dress Jawleyford livery ; sky-blue coats with 
 massive silver aiguillettes, and broad silver scams down the front 
 and round their Avaistcoat-pocket flaps ; silver garters at their 
 crimson plush breeches' knees : and thus attired, they were ready 
 to turn out with the butler to receive visitors, and conduct them 
 back to their carriages. Gradually they came down in style, but 
 not in number, and, when Mr. Sponge visited Mr. Jawleyford, he 
 had a sort of out-of-door man-of-all-work who metamorphosed 
 himself into a second footman at short notice, 
 
 " My dear Mr. Sponge ! — I am delighted to see you ! " exclaimed 
 Islv. Jawleyford, rising from his easy chair, and throwing his 
 Disraeli's " Bentinck" aside, as Mr. Spigot, the butler, in a deep 
 sonorous voice, announced our worthy friend. " This is, indeed, 
 most truly kind of you," continued Jawleyford, advancing to meet 
 him ; and getting our friend by both hands, he began working 
 his arms up and doAvn like the under man in a saw-pit. "This is, 
 indeed, most truly kind," he repeated ; " I assure you I shall 
 never forget it. It's just what I like — it's just what Mrs. Jawley- 
 ibrd likes — it's just what we ctll like — coming without fuss or 
 ceremony. Spigot ! " he added, hailing old Pomposo as the latter 
 was slowly withdrawing, thinking what a humbug his master was 
 — " Spigot ! " he repeated in a louder voice ; "let the ladies know 
 Mr. Sponge is here. Come to the fire, my dear fellow," continued 
 Jawleyford, clutching his guest by the arm, and drawing him 
 towards where an ample grate of indilferent coals was crackling 
 and spluttering beneath a magnificent old oak mantelpiece of tha 
 richest and costliest carved work. " Come to the fire, my dear 
 fellow," he repeated, " for you feel cold ; and I don't wonder at it, 
 for the day is cheerless and uncomfortable, and you've had a long 
 ride. Will you take anything before dinner ? "
 
 3IB. SPONGE'S SPOTTING TOUR. 83 
 
 "Wliat time do you dine?" asked Mr. Sponge, rubbing his 
 hands as he spoke. 
 
 "Six o'clock," rephed Mr. Jawleyford, "sis o'clock — say six 
 o'clock — not particular to a moment — days arc short, you see — 
 days are short." 
 
 "I think I should like a glass of sherry and a biscuit, then," 
 observed Mr. Sponge. 
 
 And forthwith the bell was rung, and in due course of time Mr. 
 Spigot arrived with a tray, followed by the Miss Jawleyfords, who 
 had rather expected Mr. Sponge to be shown into the drawing- 
 room to them, where they had composed themselves very prettily ; 
 one working a parrot in chenille, the other with a lapful of 
 crochet. 
 
 The Miss Jawleyfords — Amelia and Emily — were lively girls ; 
 hardly beauties — at least not sufficiently so to attract attention iu 
 a crowd ; but still, girls well calculated to "bring a man to book," 
 in the country. Mr. Thackeray, who bound up all the home 
 truths in circulation, and many that exist only in the inner 
 chambers of the heart, calling the whole " Vanity Fair," says, we 
 think (though we don't exactly know where to lay hand on the 
 passage), that it is not your real striking beauties who are the most 
 dangerous — at all events, that do the most execution — but sly, 
 quiet sort of girls, who do not strike the beholder at first sight, 
 but steal insensibly upon him as he gets acquainted. The Miss 
 Jawleyfords were of this order. Seen in plain morning gowns, a 
 man would meet them in the street, without either turning round 
 or making an observation, good, bad, or indifferent ; but in the 
 close quarters of a country house, with all the able assistance of 
 first-rate London dresses, well flounced and set out, each bent on 
 doing the agreeable, they became dangerous. The Miss Jawley- 
 fords were uncommonly well got up, and Juliana, their mutual 
 maid, deserved great credit for the impartiality she displayed in 
 arraying them. There wasn't a halfpenny's worth of choice as to 
 which was the best. This was the more creditable to the maid, 
 inasmuch as the dresses — sea-green glaces — were rather dashed ; 
 and the worse they looked, the likelier they would be to become 
 her property. Half-dashed dresses, however, that would look 
 rather seedy by contrast, come out very fresh in the country, espe- 
 cially in winter, when day begins to close iu at four. And here 
 we may observe, what a dreary time is that which intervenes 
 between the arrival of a guest and the dinner hour, in the dead 
 winter months m the country. The English are a desperate 
 people for overweighting their conversational powers. They have 
 no idea of penning up their small talk, and bringing it to bear in 
 generous flow upon one particular hour ; but they keep dribbling 
 it out throughout the live-long day, wearying their listeners witli- 
 
 G 2
 
 84 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUP. 
 
 out benefitiug themselves — just as a careless waggoner scatters his 
 load on the road. Few people are insensible to the advantage of 
 having their champagne brisk, which can only be done by keeping 
 the cork in ; but few ever think of keeping the cork of their own 
 conversation in. See a Frenchman — how light and buoyant ho 
 trips into a drcawing-room, fresh from the satisfactory scrutiny of 
 the looking-glass, with all the news, and jokes, and tittle-tattle of 
 the day, in lull bloom ! How sparkling and radiant he is, with 
 something smart and pleasant to say to every one ! How 
 thoroughly happy and easy he is ; and what a contrast to 
 phlegmatic John Bulk who stands with his great red fists doubled, 
 looking as if he thought whoever spoke to him would be wanting 
 him to endorse a bill of exchange ! But, as we said before, the 
 dread hour before dinner is an awiul time in the country — frightful 
 when there arc two hours, and never a subject in common for the 
 company to work upon. Laverick Wells and their mutual 
 acquaintance was all Sponge and Jawleyford's stock-in-trade ; and 
 that was a very small capital to begin upon, for they had been 
 there together too short a time to make much of a purse of conver- 
 sation. Even the young ladies, with their inquiries after the 
 respective flirtations — how Miss Sawney and Captain Snubnose 
 were " getting on ? " and whether the rich Widow Spankley Avas 
 likely to bring Sir Thomas Greedey to book ? — failed to make up 
 a conversation ; for Sponge knew little of the ins and outs of 
 these matters, his attention having been more directed to Mr. 
 Waffles than any one else. Still, the mere questions, put in a 
 playful, womanly way, helped the time on, and prevented things- 
 coming to that frightful dead-lock of silence, that causes an 
 involuntary inward exclamation of " How ain I to get through 
 the time vritli this man ! " There arc people who seem to think 
 that sitting and looking at each other constitutes society. Women 
 liave a great advantage over men in the talking way ; they have 
 always something to say. Let a lot of women be huddled 
 together throughout the whole of a livelong day, and they will 
 yet have such a balance of conversation at night, as to render it 
 "necessary to convert a bed-room into a clearing-house, to get rid 
 of it. Men, however, soon get high and dry, especially before 
 dinner ; and. a host ought to be at liberty to read the Riot Act^ 
 and disperse them to their bed-rooms, till such times as they 
 wanted to eat and drink. 
 
 A most scientifically-sounded gong, beginning low, like distant 
 thunder, and gradually increasing its murmur till it filled the 
 whole mansion with its roar, at length relieved all parties from 
 the labour of further efforts ; and, looking at his watch, Jawley- 
 ford asked Mrs, Jawleyford, in an innocent, indifferent sort of 
 way, which was Mr. Siionge's room ; though he had been fussing-
 
 ME. SPONGE'S SFOETING TOUR. 85 
 
 about it not lon.E: before, and dusting the portrait of liimsclf in 
 Ins green-and-gold yeomanry uniform, with an old pocket- 
 handkerchief. 
 
 " The crimson room, my dear," replied the well-drilled Mrs. 
 Jawleyford ; and Spigot coming with candles, Jawleyford preceded 
 " Mr. Sponge " up a splendid richly-carved oak staircase, of such 
 gradual and easy rise that an invalid might almost have been drawn 
 up it iu a garden-chair. 
 
 Passing a short distance along a spacious corridor, ]Mr. Jawley- 
 ford presently opened a door to the right, and led the way into a 
 large gloomy room, with a little newly-h'ghted wood fire crackling 
 in an enormous grate, making darkness visible, and drawing the 
 cold out of the walls. We need scarcely say it was that terrible 
 room — the best ; with three creaking, ill-fitting windows, and 
 heavy crimson satin-damask furniture, so old as scarcely to be able 
 to sustain its own weight. 
 
 " Ah ! here you are," observed Mr. Jawleyford, as he nearly 
 tripped over Sponge's luggage as it stood by the fire. " Here you 
 are," repeated he, giving the candle a flourish, to shov/ the size of 
 the room, and draw it back on the portrait of himself above the 
 mantel-piece. " Ah ! I declare here's an old picture of myself," 
 said he, holding the candle up to the face, as if ho hadn't seen it 
 for some time, — "a picture that was done when I was in the 
 Bumperkin yeomanry," continued he, passing the light before the 
 facings. " That was considered a good likeness at the time," said 
 he, looking affectionately at it, and feeling his nose to see if it was 
 still the same size : " ours was a capital corps — one of the best, it 
 not the very best in the service. The inspecting officer always 
 spoke of it in the highest possible terms — especially of ?»// company, 
 which really was just as perfect as anything ray Lord Cardigan, 
 or any of your crack disciplinarians, can produce. However, 
 never mind," continued he, lowering the candle, seeing Mr. Sponge 
 didn't enter into the spirit of the thing ; " you'll be wanting to 
 dress. You'll find hot water on the table yonder," pointing to the 
 far corner of the room, where the outline of a jug might just be 
 descried ; *' there's a bell in the bed if you want anything ; and 
 dinner will be ready as soon as you are dressed. You needn't make 
 yourself very fine," added he, as he retired ; " for we are only our- 
 selves : hope we shall have some of our neighbours to-morrow or 
 next day, but we are rather badly off for neighbours just here — at 
 least for short-notice neighbours." So saying, he disappeared 
 through the dark doorway. 
 
 The latter statement was true enough, for Jawleyford, though 
 apparently such a fine open-hearted, sociable sort of man, was in 
 reality a very quarrelsome, troublesome fellow. He quarrelled with 
 all his neighbours in succession, generally getting through them
 
 86 
 
 MIL SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 every two or three years ; and his acquaintance were divided into 
 two classes— the best and the worst fellows under the sun. A 
 stran;>er revising Jawleyford after an absence of a year or two, 
 would very likely lind the best fellows of former days transformed 
 into the worst ones of that. Thus, Parson Hobanob, that pet 
 victim of country caprice, would come in and go out of season like 
 lamb or asparagus ; Major IMoustachc and Jawleyferd would be as 
 " thick as thieves" one day, and at daggers drawn the next ; Squire 
 Squaretocs, of Squaretoes House, and he, were continually kissing 
 or cutting ; and even distance — nine miles of bad road, and, of 
 course, heavy tolls— could not keep the peace between lawyer 
 Seedy wig and him. What between rows and reconciliations, 
 Jawleyford v,-as always at work. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE DINNER. 
 
 TOTWITHSTANDING Jawley- 
 ford 's recommendation to the 
 contrary, Mr. Sponge made 
 himself an uncommon swell. 
 He put on a desperately stiff 
 Gtarcher, secured in front v/ith 
 a large gold fox-head pin with 
 carbuncle eyes ; a fine, fancy- 
 fronted shirt, Avith a slight 
 tendency to pink, adorned with 
 mosaic-gold-tethered studs of 
 sparkling diamonds (or French 
 paste, as the case might be) ; 
 a white waistcoat with fancy 
 buttons ; a blue coat with 
 bright plain ones, and a velvet 
 collar, black tights, with broad 
 black - and - white Cranbourne- 
 alley-looldng stockings (socks, 
 rather), and patent leather 
 pumps with gilt buckles — 
 Sponge was proud of his leg. The young ladies, too, turned out 
 rather smart ; fur Amelia, finding th.at Emily was going to put on 
 her new yellow watered silk, instead of a dyed satin she had talked 
 of, made Juliana produce her broad-laced blue satin dress out of 
 
 MAKING LIGHT WINK.
 
 ME. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUR. 87 
 
 the wardrobo in the green dressing-room, where it had been laid 
 away in an old tablecloth ; and bound her dark hair with a green- 
 beaded wreath, which Emily met by crowning herself with a chaj)let 
 of white roses. 
 
 Thus attired, with smiles assumed at the door, the young ladies 
 entered the drawing-room in the fall fervour of sisterly animosity. 
 They were very much alike, in size, shape, aud face. They were 
 tallish and full-figured, j\Iiss Jawleyford's features being rather 
 more strongly marked, and her eyes a shade darker than her 
 sister's ; while there was a sort of subdued air about her — the 
 result, perhaps, of enlarged intercourse with the world — or maybe 
 of disappointments. Emily's eyes sparkled and. glittered, without 
 knowing perhaps why. 
 
 Dinner was presently announced. It was of the imposing order 
 that people give their friends on a first visit, as though their 
 appetites were larger on that day than on any other. They dined 
 off plate : the sideboards glittered with the Jawleyford arms on 
 cups, tankards, and salvers ; " Brecknel & Turner's " flamed and. 
 swealed in profusion on the table ; while every now and then an 
 expiring lamp on the sideboards or brackets proclaimed the 
 unwonted splendour of the scene, and added a flavour to the repast 
 not contemplated by the cook. The room, which was large and 
 lofty, being but rarely used, had a cold, uncomfortable feel ; and, 
 if it hadn't been for the looks of the thing, Jawleyford would, 
 perhaps, as soon that they had dined in the little breakfast parlour. 
 Still there was everything very smart ; Spigot in full fig, with a 
 shirt-frill nearly tickling his nose, an acre of white waistcoat, and 
 glorious calves swelhng within his gauze-silk stockings. The 
 improvised footman went creaking about, as such gentlemen 
 generally do. 
 
 The style was perhaps better than the repast : still they had 
 turtle-soup (Shell & Tortoise, to be sure, but still turtle-soup) ; 
 while the wines were supplied by the well-known firm of 
 " VVintle & Co." Jawleyford sank where he got it, and pre- 
 tended that it had been "ages " in his cellar : "he really had such 
 a stock that he thought he should never get through it ; " — to 
 Avit, two dozen old port at 30^. a dozen, and one dozen at 485. ; 
 two dozen pale sherry at oGs., and one dozen brown ditto at 4Ss. ; 
 three bottles of Bucellas, of the " finest quality imported," at o8s. 
 a dozen ; Lisbon " rich and dry," at o'2s. ; and some marvellous 
 creaming champagne at 48s., in which they were indulging when 
 he made the declaration : " Don't wait of me, my dear Mr. 
 Sponge ! " exclaimed Jawleyford, holding up a long needle-case of 
 a glass with the Jawleyford crests emblazoned about ; " don't wait 
 of me, 7;ra?/," repeated he, as Spigot finished dribbling the froth 
 into Sponge's glass ; and Jawleyford, with a flourishing bow and
 
 88 2IB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUE. 
 
 waive of his empty needle-case, drank Mr. Sponge's very good 
 health, adding, '• I'm extremely happy to sec you at Jawlcyford 
 Court." 
 
 It was then Jawleyford's turn to have a little froth ; and having 
 sucked it up with the air of a man drinking nectar, he sat down 
 his glass with a shake of the head, saying, 
 
 "There's no such wine as that to be got now-a-days." 
 
 "■ Capital wine I — Excellent ! " exclaimed Sponge, who was a 
 Letter judge of ale than of champagne. " Pray, where might you 
 get it ? " 
 
 "Impossible to say I — Impossible to say ! " replied Jawlcyford, 
 throwing up his hands with a shake, and shrugging his shoulders. 
 ^' I have such a stock of wine as is really quite ridiculous." 
 
 " Quite ridiculous," thought Spigot, who, by the aid of a fake 
 key, had been through the cellar. 
 
 Except the "Shell & Tortoise" and " Wintle," the estate 
 supplied the repast. The carp was out of the home-pond ; the 
 tench, or whatever it was, was out of the mill-pond ; the mutton 
 was irom the farm ; the carrot-and-turnip-aud-beet-bedaubed 
 stewed beef was from ditto ; while the garden supplied the 
 vegetables that luxuriated in the massive silver side-dishes. 
 Watson's gun furnished the old hare and partridges that opened 
 the ball of the second course : and tarts, jellies, preserves, and 
 custards made their usual appearances. Some first-growth Chateaux 
 jMargaux " AVintle," again at GGs., in very richly-cut decanters, 
 accompanied the old 3Cs. port ; and apples, pears, nuts, figs, 
 preserved fruits, occupied the splendid green-and-gold dessert set. 
 Everything, of course, was handed about — an ingenious way of 
 tormenting a person that has "dined." The ladies sat long, 
 Mrs. Jawlcyford taking three glasses of port (when she could 
 get it) ; and it was a quarter to eight when they rose from the 
 table. 
 
 Jawlcyford then moved an adjournment to the fire ; which 
 Sponge gladly seconded, for he had never been warm since he 
 came into the house, the heat from the fires seeming to go up the 
 •chimneys. Spigot set them a little round table, placing the port 
 and claret upon it, and bringing them a plate of biscuits in lieu of 
 the dessert. He then reduced the illumination on the table, and 
 extinguished such of the lamps as had not gone out of them- 
 selves. Having cast an approving glance around, and seen that 
 they had what he considered right, he left them to their own 
 devices. 
 
 "Do you drink port or claret, Mr. Sponge ?" asked Jawlcyford, 
 preparing to push whichever he preferred over to him. 
 
 " I'll take a little port,//rs^, if you please," replied our friend — 
 as much as to say, " I'll finish off with claret."
 
 3IIi. SPONGE'S SI'OBTING TOUIL 89 
 
 "You'll find that very good, I expect," said IMr. Jawlejford, 
 passing- the bottle to him ; "it's '20 wine — very rare wine to get 
 now — was a very rich fruity wine, and was a long time before 
 it came into drinking. Connoisseurs would give any money 
 for it." 
 
 " It has still a good deal of body," observed Sponge, turning ofl* 
 .1 glass and smacking his lips, at the same time holding the glass 
 up to the candle to see the oily mark it made on the side. 
 
 "Good sound wine — good >iovnd wine," said Mr. Jawlcyford. 
 " Have plenty lighter, if you like." Tiic light wine was made by 
 watering the strong. 
 
 " Oh no, thank you," replied Mr. Sponge, " oh no, thank you. 
 I like good strong military port." 
 
 " So do I," said Mr. Jawleyford, " so do I ; only unfortunately 
 it doesn't like me — am obliged to drink claret. When I was in 
 the Bumperkin yeomanry we drank nothing but port." And then 
 Jawleyford diverged into a long rambling dissertation on messes 
 and cavalry tactics, which nearly sent Mr. Sponge asleep. 
 
 " Where did you say the hounds are to-morrow ? " at length 
 asked he, after Mr. Jawleyford had talked himself out. 
 
 " To-morrow," repeated Mr. Jawleyford, thoughtfully, " to- 
 morrow — they don't hunt to-morrow — not one of their days — 
 next day. Scram bleford-green — Scramldeford-green — no, no, I'm 
 wrong — Dundleton Tower — Dundleton Tower." 
 
 " How far is that from here ? " asked ]\Ir. Sponge. 
 
 " Oh, ten miles — say ten miles," replied Mr. Jawleyford. It 
 was sometimes ten, and sometimes fifteen, depending upon whether 
 Mr. Jawleyford wanted the party to go or not. These elastic 
 places, however, are common in all countries — to sight-seers as 
 well as to hunters. " Close by — close by," one day. " Oh ! a 
 lo-o-ng way from here," another. 
 
 It is difficult, for parties who have nothing in common, to drive 
 a conversation, especially when each keeps jibbing to get upon a 
 private subject of his own. Jawleyford was all for sounding 
 Sponge as to where he came from, and the situation of his 
 property ; for as yet, it must be remembered, he knew nothing of 
 our friend, save what he had gleaned at Laverick Wells, where cer- 
 tainly all parties concurred in placing him high on the list of " desir- 
 ables," while Sponge wanted to talk about hunting, tlie meets of 
 the hounds, and hear what sort of a man Lord Scamperdale was. 
 So they kept playing at cross-purposes, without either getting 
 much out of the other. Jawleyford's intimacy with Lord Scam- 
 perdale seemed to have diminished with propinquity, for he now 
 no longer talked of him — " Scamperdale this, and Scamperdale 
 that — Scamperdale, with whom he could do anything he liked ; " 
 but he called him " My Lord Scampei'dale," and spoke of him in a
 
 90 ME. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUR. 
 
 reverent and becoming way. Distance often lends boldness to the 
 tongue, as the poet Campbell says it 
 
 Lends enchantment to the view, 
 And robes the mountain in its azure hue. 
 
 There are few great men who haven't a dozen people, at least, who 
 "keep them right," as they call it. To hear some of the creatures 
 talk, one would fancy a lord was a lunatic as a matter of course. 
 
 Spigot at last put an end to their efforts by announcing that 
 " tea and coffee were ready ! " just as Mr. Sponge buzzed his bottle 
 of port. They then adjourned from the gloom of the large oak- 
 wainscoted dining-room, to the effulgent radiance of the well-lit, 
 highly-gilt drawing-room, where our iair i'riends had commenced 
 talking^Mr. Sponge over as soon as they retired from the dining- 
 room. 
 
 "And what do you think of liim ? " asked mamma. 
 
 "Oh, I think he's very well," replied Emily, gaily, 
 
 " I should say he was very /oor-lerable," drawled Miss Jawleyford, 
 who reckoned herself rather a judge, and indeed had had some 
 experience of gentlemen. 
 
 " Tolerable, my dear ! " rejoined Mrs. Jawleyford, " I should say 
 he's very well — rather distingue, indeed." 
 
 "I shouldn't say iliat,^' replied Miss Jawleyford; "his height 
 and figure ai^e certainly in his favour, but he isn't quite my idea of 
 a gentleman. He is evidently on good terms with himself ; but I 
 should say, if it wasn't for his forwardness, he'd be awkward and 
 uneasy." 
 
 " He's a foxhuntev, you know," observed Emily. 
 
 "Well, but I don't know that that should make him different to 
 other people," rejoined her sister. "Captain Curzon, and Mr. 
 Lancaster, and Mr. Preston, were all foxhunters ; but they didn't 
 stare, and blurt, and kick their legs about, as this man does." 
 
 " Oh, you are so fastidious ! " rejoined her mamma ; " you 
 must take men as you find them." 
 
 " I wonder where he lives ? " observed Emily, who was quite 
 ready to take our friend as he was. 
 
 " I wonder where he docs live ? " chimed in Mrs. Jawleyford, 
 for the suddenness of the descent had given them no time for 
 iuquir}'. 
 
 " Somebody said Manchester,^'' observed Miss Jawleyford, drily. 
 
 " So much the better," observed Mrs. Jawleyford, " for then he 
 is sure to have plenty of money." 
 
 " Law, ma ! but you don't s'pose pa would ever allow such a 
 thing," retorted ]\Iiss, recollecting her papa's frequent exhortations 
 to them to look high. 
 
 " If he's a landowner." observed Mrs. Jawleyford, " we'll soon
 
 3IIL SPONGE'S SPOUTING TOUE. 91 
 
 find him out in Burke, Emily, my dear," added she, "just go 
 into your pa's room, and bring me the ' Commoners ' — you'll find 
 it on the large table, bet-ween the ' Peerage ' and the ' Wellington 
 Despatches.' " 
 
 Emily tripped away to do as she was bid. The fair messenger 
 presently returned, bearing both volumes, richly bound and 
 lettered, with the Jawleyford crests studded down the backs, and 
 an immense coat of arms on the side. 
 
 A careful search among the S's produced nothing in the shape 
 of Sponge. 
 
 " Not likely, I should think," observed Miss Jawleyford, with a 
 toss of her head, as her mamma anuouuced the fact. 
 
 "Well, never mind," replied Mrs. Jawleyford, seeing that only 
 one of the girls could have him, and that one was quite ready ; 
 " never mind, I dare say I shall be able to find out something 
 from himself," and so they dropped the subject. 
 
 In due time in swaggered our hero, himself, kicking his legs 
 about as men in tights or tops generally do. 
 
 " May I give you tea or coflee ? " asked Emily, in the sweetest 
 tone possible, as she raised her finely turned gloveloss arm towards 
 where the glittering appendages stood on the large silver tray 
 
 " Neither, thank you," said Sponge, throwing himself into an 
 easy-chair beside Mrs. Jawleyford. He then crossed his legs, and 
 cocking up a toe for admiration, began to yawn. 
 
 " You feel tired after your journey ? " observed Mrs. Jawleyford. 
 
 " No, I'm not," said Sponge, yawning again — a good yawn this 
 time. 
 
 Miss Jawleyford looked significantly at her sister — a long pause 
 ensued. 
 
 " I knew a family of your name," at length observed Mrs. 
 Jawleyford, in the simple sort of way women begin pumping men. 
 " I knew a family of your name," repeated she, seeing Sponge was 
 half asleep—" the Sponges of Toadey Hall. Pray are they any 
 relation of yours ? " 
 
 " Oh — ah — yes," blurted Sponge : " I suppose they are. The 
 fact is — the — haw — Sponges — haw — are a rather large family — 
 haw. Meet them almost everywhere." 
 
 "You don't live in the same county, perhaps ?" observed Dilrs. 
 Jawleyford. 
 
 "No, we don't," replied he, with a yawn. 
 
 " Is yours a good hunting country ? " asked Jawleyford, think- 
 ing to sound him in another way. 
 
 " No ; a devilish bad 'un," replied Sponge, adding with a grunt, 
 "or I wouldn't be bere." 
 
 " Who hunts it ? " asked Mr. Jawleyford. 
 
 " Why, as to that — haw " — replied Sponge, stretching out his
 
 92 ME. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 nrms and legs to their fullest extent, and yawning most vigorously 
 — "why, as to that, I can hardly say which you would call my 
 country, for I have to do with so many ; but I should say, of all 
 the countries I am — haw — connected Avith — haw — Tom Scratch's 
 is the worst." 
 
 Mr. Jawleyford looked at j\Irs Jawleyford as a counsel who 
 thinks he has made a grand hit looks at a jury before he sits down, 
 and said no more. 
 
 Mrs. Jawleyford looked as innocent as most jurymen do after 
 one of these forensic exploits. — -Mr. Sponge beginning liis nasal 
 recreations, Mrs. Jawleyford motioned the ladies off to bed — Mr. 
 Sponge and his host presently followed. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE evening's reflections. 
 
 " Well, I think he'll do," said our friend to himself, as having 
 reached his bed-room, in accoidance with modern fashion, he 
 applied a cedar match to the now somewhat better burnt-up tire, 
 for the purpose of lighting a cigar — a cigar ! in the state-bedroom 
 of Jawleylord Court. Having divested himself of his smart blue 
 coat and white waistcoat, and arrayed himself in a gray dressing- 
 gown, he adjusted the loose cushions of a recumbent chair, and 
 soused himself into its luxurious depths for a " think over." 
 
 " He has money," mused Sponge, between the copious whiffs of 
 the cigar, "si)lendid style he lives in, to be sure " (puffj, continued 
 he, after another long draw, as he adjusted the ash at the end of 
 the cigar, " Two men in livery" (puff), "one out, can't be dono 
 for nothing" (puff). " What a profusion of plate, too ! " (whilf) 
 — "declare I never'" (^puff') "saw such" (whiff", puff) "magniti- 
 ccucc in the whole course of my " (whiff", puff) " life." 
 
 The cigar being then well uudcr Avay, he sucked and puffed and 
 whiffed in an apj^arently vacant stupor, his legs crossed, and his 
 eyes jSxed on a projecting coal between the lower bars, as if intent 
 on watching the alternations of flame and gas ; though in reality 
 he was running all the circumstances through his mind, comparing 
 them with his past experience, and speculating on the probable 
 result of the present adventure. 
 
 He had seen a good deal of service in the matrimonial wars, 
 and was entitled to as many bars as the most distinguished 
 peninsular veteran. l\o woman with money, or the reputation of
 
 MK. SPONGE IN THE BEST BEDROOM AT JAWLEYFOKD COUET. 
 
 [P. 92
 
 3IB. SPONGE'S SPOTTING TOUR. 93 
 
 il", ever Avanted an offer -while he was in the way, for he would 
 accommodate her at the second or third interview : and always 
 pressed for an immediate fulfilment, lest the " cursed lawyers " 
 should interfere and interrupt their felicity. Somehow or other, 
 the " cursed lawyers " always had interfered : and as sure as they 
 walked in, Mr. Sponge walked out. He couldn't bear the idea of 
 their coarse, inquisitive inquiries. He was too much of a gentle- 
 man ! 
 
 Love, light as air, at sight of human ties 
 Spreads his light wings and in a moment flics. 
 
 So Mr. Sponge lied, consoling himself with the reflection that 
 there was no harm done, and hoping for " better luck next time." 
 
 He roved from flower to flower like a butterfly, touching here, 
 alighting there, but always passing away with apparent indifle- 
 rence. He knew if he couldn't square matters at short notice, ho 
 would have no better chance with an extension of time ; so, if he 
 saw things taking the direction of inquiry, he would just laugh 
 the offer off, pretend he was only feeling his way — saw he was not 
 ;;cceptable — sorry for it — and away he would go to somebody else. 
 lie looked upon a woman much in the light of a horse ; if she 
 didn't suit one man, she Avould another, and there was no harm ia 
 trying. So he puffed and smoked, and smoked and puffed — 
 gliding gradually into wealth and prosperity. 
 
 A second cigar assisted his comprehension considerably — just as 
 a second bottle of wine not only helps men through their 
 difficulties, but shows them the way to unbounded wealth. Many 
 of the bright railway schemes of former days, we make no doubt, 
 were concocted under the inspiring influence of the bottle. Sponge 
 now saw everything as he wished. All the errors of his former 
 days were apparent to him. He saw how indiscreet it was 
 confiding in Miss Trickery's cousin, the major ; Avhy the rich 
 widow at Chesterfield had cliassml him ; and how he was done 
 out of the beautiful Miss Rainbow, with her beautiful estate, with 
 its lake, its heronry, and its perpetual advowson. Other mishaps 
 he also considered. 
 
 Having disposed of the past, he then turned his attention to the 
 future. Here were two beautiful girls apparently full of money, 
 between whom there wasn't the toss-up of a halfpenny for choice. 
 Most exemplary parents, too, who didn't seem to care a farthing 
 about money. 
 
 He then began speculating on what the girls would have. 
 "Great house — great establishment — great estate, doubtless. 
 Why, confound it," continued he, casting his heavy eye lazily 
 around, "here's a room as big as a field in a cramped country ! 
 Can't have less than fifty thousand a-piece, I should say, at the 
 least. Jawleyford, to be sure, is young," thought he ; " may live a
 
 04 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 long time " (puff). " If Mrs. J. were to die (Curse — the cigar's 
 burnt ray lips "), added he, throwing the remnant into the fire, 
 and rolling out of the chair to prepare for turning into bed. 
 
 If any one had told Sponge that there was a rich papa and 
 mamma on the look-out merely for amiable young men to bestow 
 their fair dauo-hters upon, he Avould have laughed them to scorn, 
 and said, "■ Why, you fool, they are only laughing at you ; " or 
 " Don't you see they are playing you off against somebody else ? " 
 But our hero, like other men, was blind where he himself was con- 
 cerned, and concluded that he was the exception to the general rule. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Jawleyford had their consultation too. 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Jawleyford, seating himself on the high wire 
 fender immediately below a marble bust of himself on the mantel- 
 piece ; " I think he'll do." 
 
 " Oh, no doubt," replied Mrs. Jawleyford, who never saw any 
 difficulty in the way of a match ; " I should say he is a very nice 
 young man," continued she. 
 
 " Rather brusque in his manner, perhaps,'' ol)scrved Jawleyford, 
 who was quite the " lady" himself. " I wonder what he has ? " 
 added he, fingering away at his whiskers. 
 
 " He's rich, I've no doubt," replied Mrs. Jawleyford. 
 
 " What makes you think so ? " asked her loving spouse. 
 
 " I don't know," replied Mrs. Jawleyford ; " somehow I feel 
 certain he is — but I can't tell why — all foxhunters are." 
 
 " I don't know that," replied Jawleyford, who knew some very 
 poor ones. " I should like to know what he has," contiuued 
 Jawleyford musingly, looking up at the deeply corniced ceiling as 
 if he were calculating the chances among the filagree ornaments of 
 the centre. 
 
 " A hundred thousand, perhaps," suggested Mrs. Jawleyford, who 
 only Imew two sums — fifty and a hundred thousand. 
 
 " That's a vast of money," rei^lied Jawleyford, with a slight 
 shake of the head. 
 
 '' Fifty at least, then," suggested Mrs. Jawleyford, coming down 
 halfway at once. 
 
 " AYell, if he has that, he'll do," rejoined Jawleyford, who also had 
 oome down considerably in his expectations since the vision of his 
 railway days, at whose bright light he had burnt his fingers. 
 
 " He was said to have an immense fortune — I forget how much 
 — at Tiaverick Wells," observed Mrs. Jawleyford. 
 
 " Well, we'll see," said Jawleyford ; adding, " I suppose either 
 of the girls will be glad enough to take him ? " 
 
 " Trust them for that," replied Mrs. Jawleyford, with a knowing 
 smile and nod of the head : " trust them for that," repeated she. 
 " Though Ameha does turn up her nose and pretend to be fine, 
 rely npcn it she only wants to be sure that he's worth having."
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPOUTING TOUR. 
 
 95 
 
 "Emily seems ready enongli, at all events," observed 
 Jawleyford. 
 
 " She'll never get the chance," observed ]\Irs. Ja^vleyf■ord. 
 *' Amelia is a very prudent girl, and won't commit herself, biit she 
 knows how to manage the men." 
 
 " Well then," said Ja.wleyford, with a hearty yaAvn, " I suppose 
 we may as well go to bed." 
 
 So saying, he took his candle and retired. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE AVET PAY. 
 
 "this, of course you know?" 
 
 When the dirty slip-shod housemaid came in the morning with 
 her blacksmith's-looking tool-box to light Mr. Sponge's fire, a 
 riotous winter's day was in the full swing of its gloomy, deluging 
 power. The wind howled, and roared, and v\histled, and shrieked,
 
 9G MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 playin,2f a sort of fcolian liarp amon.i^sfc the towers, pinnacle:, and 
 iiTCi^uIar castlcisatious of the house ; while the old casements 
 ]-attlod and shook, as though some one were trying to knock 
 them in. 
 
 " Hang the day ! " muttered Sponge from beneath the bed- 
 clothes. " What the deuce is a man to do with himself on such a 
 day as this, in the country ? " thinking how much better he would 
 be flattening his nose against the coffee-room window of the 
 Bantam, or strolling through the horse-dealers' stables in 
 Piccadilly or Oxford-street. 
 
 Presently the over-night chair before the fire, with the picture 
 of Jawleyford in the Bumperkin yeomanry, as seen through the 
 parted curtains of the spacious bed, recalled his over-night specu- 
 lations, and he began to think that jjerhaps he was just as well 
 where he was. He then " backed " his ideas to where he had left 
 off, and again began speculating on the chances of his position. 
 " Deuced fine girls," said he, " both of 'em : wonder what he'll 
 give 'era down ? " — recurring to his over-night speculations, and 
 hitting upon the point at which he had burnt his lips with the 
 end of the cigar — namely, Jawleyford's youth, and the possibility 
 of his marrying again if Mrs. Jawleyford were to die. " It 
 won't do to raise up difficulties for one's-self, however," mused 
 he ; so, kicking off the bedclothes, he raised himself instead, 
 and making for a window, began to gaze upon his expectant 
 territory. 
 
 It was a terrible day ; the ragged, spongy clouds drifted heavily 
 along, and the lowering gloom was only enlivened by the 
 occasional driving rush of the tempest. Earth and sky were 
 pretty much the same grey, damp, disagreeable hue. 
 
 " Well," said Sponge to himself, having gazed sufficiently on 
 the uninviting landscape, " it's just as well it's not a hunting day 
 — should have got terribly soused. Must get through the time 
 as well as I can — girls to talk to — house to see. Hope I've 
 brought my Mogg," added he, turning to his portmanteau, and 
 diving for his " Ten Thousand Cab Fares." Having found the 
 invaluable volume, his almost constant study, he then proceeded 
 to array himself in what he considered the most captivating 
 apparel ; a new wide-sleeved dock-tail coatee, with outside pockets 
 placed very lov,', faultless drab trousers, a buff waistcoat, with a 
 cream-coloured once-round silk tie, secured by red cornelian 
 cross-bars set in gold, for a pin. Thus attired, with " Mogg " in 
 his pocket, he swaggered down to the breakfast-room, which he 
 hit off" by means of listening at the doors till he heard the sound 
 of voices, within. 
 
 Mrs. Jawleyford and the young ladies were all smiles and 
 smirks, and there were no symptoms of Miss Jawleyford's hauteur
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 97 
 
 jicrceptible. They all came forward and shook hands with our 
 friend most cordially. Mr. Jawleyford, too, was all flourish and 
 compliment ; now tilting at the weather, now conf^ratulating 
 himself upon having secured Mr. Sponge's society in the 
 house. 
 
 That leisurely meal of protracted ease, a country-house break- 
 fast, being at length accomplished, and the ladies having taken 
 their departure, Mr. Jawleyford looked out on the terrace, upon 
 which the angry rain was beating the standing water into bubbles, 
 and observing that there was no chance of getting oat, asked Mr. 
 Sponge if he could amuse himself in the house. 
 
 " Oh, yes," replied he, " got a book in my pocket." 
 
 "Ah. 1 suppose — the 'New Monthly,' perhaps ? " observed Mr. 
 Jawleyford. 
 
 " No," replied Sponge. 
 
 " Dizzey's ' Life of Bentinck,' then, 1 daresay," suggested 
 Jawleyford ; adding, " I'm reading it myself." 
 
 " No, nor that either," replied Sponge, with a knowing look ; 
 *' a much more useful work, I assure you," added he, pulling the 
 little purple-backed volume out of his pocket, and reading the gilt 
 letters on the back; " ' Mogg's Ten Thousand Cab Fares, price 
 one shilling ! ' " 
 
 " Indeed," exclaimed Mr. Jawleyford, '• well, I should never 
 have guessed that." 
 
 " I daresay not," replied Sponge, " I daresay not ; it's a book I 
 never travel without. It's invaluable in town, and you may study 
 it to great advantage in the country. AYith Mogg in my hand, J 
 can almost fancy myself in both places at once. Omnibus guide," 
 added he, turning over the leaves, and reading, " Acton five, from 
 the end of Oxford-street and the Edger-road — see Ealing ; 
 Edmonton seven, from Shoreditch Church — '' Green Man and 
 Still,' Oxford-street— Shepherd's Bush and Starch Green, Bank, 
 and Whitechapel — Tooting — Totteridge — Wandsworth ; in short, 
 every place near town. Then the cab fares are truly invaluable ; 
 you have ten thousand of them here," said he, tapping the book, 
 " and you may calculate as many more for yourself as ever you 
 like. Nothing to do but sit in an arm-chair on a wet day like 
 this, and say. If from the Mile End turnpike to the 'Castle' on the 
 Kingsland-road is so much, how much should it be to the ' York- 
 shire Stingo,' or Pine- Apple-place, Maida Yale ? And you 
 measure by other fares till you get as near the place you want as 
 you can, if it isn't set down in black and white to your hand in 
 the book." 
 
 " Just so," said Jawleyford, ''just so. It must be a very useful 
 work indeed, very useful work. I'll get one — I'll get one. How 
 much did you say it was — a guinea ? a guinea ? "
 
 98 MR. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUR. 
 
 *' A shilling,'''' replied Sponge, adding, " you may have mine for 
 a guinea if you like." 
 
 " By Jove, what a day it is ! " observed Jawleyford, turning the 
 conversation, as the wind dashed the hard sleet against the 
 window like a shower of pebbles. " Lucky to have a good house 
 over one's head, such weather ; and, by the way, that reminds me, 
 I'll show you my new gallery and collection of curiosities — 
 pictures, busts, marbles, antiques, and so on ; there'll be fires on, and 
 we shall be just as well there as here." So saying, Jawleyford led 
 the way through a dark, intricate, shabby passage, to where a 
 much gilded white door, with a handsome crimson curtain over it 
 announced the entrance to something better, " Now," said Mr, 
 Jawleyford, bowing as he threw open the door, and motioned, or 
 rather flourished, his guest to enter — " now," said he, "you shall 
 see what you shall see," 
 
 Mr. Sponge entered accordingly, and found himself at the end 
 of a gallery fifty feet by twenty, and fourteen high, lighted by 
 skylights and small windows round the top. There were fires in 
 handsome Caen-stone chimney-pieced fireplaces on either side, a 
 large timepiece and an organ at the far end, and sundry white 
 basins scattered about, catching the drops from the skylights. 
 
 " Hang the rain ! " exclaimed Jawleyford, as he saw it trickling 
 over a river scene of Van Goyen's (gentlemen in a yacht, and 
 figures in boats), and drip, drip, di'ipping on to the head of an 
 infant Bacchus below, 
 
 "He wants an umbrella, that young gentleman," observed 
 Sponge, as Jawleyford proceeded to dry him with his handker- 
 chief, 
 
 " Fine thing," observed Jawleyford, starting oS' to a side, and 
 pointing to it ; " fine thing — Italian marble — by Frere — cost a 
 vast of money — was offered three hundred for it. Are you a judge 
 of these things ? " asked Jawleyford ; "are you a judge of these 
 things ? " 
 
 "A little," replied Sponge, "a little;" thinking he might as 
 well see what his intended father-in-law's personal property was 
 hke. 
 
 " There's a beautiful thing ! " observed Jawleyford, pointing to 
 another group. " I picked that up for a mere nothing — twenty 
 guineas — worth two hundred at least. Lipsalve, the great picture- 
 dealer in Gammon Passage, offered me Murillo's ' Adoration of the 
 Virgin and Shepherds,' for which he shewed me a receipt for u 
 hundred and eighty-five, for it." 
 
 " Indeed I " replied Sponge, " what is it ? " 
 
 " It's a Bacchanal group, after Poussin, sculptured by Marin. I 
 bought it at Lord Breakdown's sale ; it happened to be a wet 
 day — much such a day as this — and things went for nothing.
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 99 
 
 This you'll know, I presume ?" observed Jawleyford, laying his 
 hand on a life-size bust of Diana, in Italian marble. 
 
 " No, I don't," replied Sponge. 
 
 " No ! " exclaimed Jawleyford ; " I thought everybody had 
 known this : this is my celebrated ' Diana,' by Noindon — one of 
 the finest things in the world. Louis Philippe sent an agent over 
 to this country expressly to buy it." 
 
 " Why didn't you sell it him ? " asked Sponge. 
 
 " Didn't want the money," replied Jawleyford, " didn't want the 
 money. In addition to which, though a king, he was a bit of a 
 screw, and w^e couldn't agree upon terms. This," observed 
 Jawleyford, " is a vase of the Cinque Cento period— a very fine 
 thing ; and this," laying his hand on the crown of a much frizzed, 
 barber's-window-looking bust, " of course you know ? " 
 
 "No, I don't," replied Sponge. 
 
 " No ! " exclaimed Jawleyford, in astonishment. 
 
 " No," repeated Sponge. 
 
 " Look again, my dear fellow ; you must know it," observed 
 Jawleyford. 
 
 " I suppose it's meant for you," at last replied Sponge, seeing 
 his host's anxiety. 
 
 " 3Iea7it! my dear fellow ; why, don't you think it like ? " 
 
 "Why, there's a resemblance, certainly," said Sponge, "now that 
 one knows. But I shouldn't have guessed it was you." 
 
 " Oh, my dear Mr. Sponge ! " exclaimed Jawleyford, in a tone of 
 mortification, " Do you realhj mean to say you don't think it like ? " 
 
 " Why, yes, it's like," replied Sponge, seeing which way his host 
 wanted it ; " it's like, certainly ; the want of expression in the eye 
 makes such a difference between a bust and a picture." 
 
 " True," replied Jawleyford, comforted — " true," repeated he, 
 looking affectionately at it ; " I should say it was very like — like 
 as anything can be. You are rather too much above it there, you 
 see ; sit down here," continued he, leading Sponge to an ottoman 
 surrounding a huge model of the colnmn in the Place Vendome, 
 that stood in the middle of the room — " sit down here now, and 
 look, and say if you don't think it like ? " 
 
 " Oh, very like," replied Sponge, as soon as he had seated 
 himself. " I see it now, directly ; the mouth is yours to a T." 
 
 '• And the chin ? It's my chin, isn't it ?" asked Jawleyford. 
 
 " Yes ; and the nose, and the forehead, and the whiskers, and 
 the hair, and the shape of the head, and everything. Oh ! I see it 
 now as plain as a pikestaff," observed Sponge. 
 
 " I thought you would," rejoined Jawleyford, comforted — " I 
 thought you would ; it's generally considered an excellent likeness 
 — so it should, indeed, for it cost a vast of money — fifty guineas ! 
 to say nothing of the lotus-leafed pedestal it's on. That's another 
 
 H 2
 
 100 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUB. 
 
 of me," continued Jawleyford, pointing to a bust above the 
 fireplace, on the opposite side of the gallery ; " done some years 
 since — ten or twelve, at least — not so like as this, but still like. 
 That portrait up there, just above the 'Finding of Moses,' by 
 Poussin," pointing to a portrait of himself attitudinising, with his 
 hand on his hip, and frock-coat well thrown back, so as to show 
 his figure and the silk lining to advantage, " was done the other 
 day, by a very rising young artist ; though he has hardly done me 
 justice, perhaps — particularly in the nose, which he's made far too 
 thick and heavy ; and the right hand, if anything, is rather 
 clumsy ; otherwise the colouring is good, and there is a consider- 
 able deal of taste in the arrangement of the background, and so 
 on." 
 
 " What book is it you are pointing to ? " asked Sponge. 
 
 " It's not a book," replied Mr. Jawleyford, "it's a plan — a plan 
 of this gallery, in fact. I am supposed to be giving the final order 
 for the erection of the very edifice we are now in." 
 
 " And a very handsome building it is," observed Sponge, think- 
 ing he would make it a shooting-gallery when he got it. 
 
 " Yes it's a handsome thing in its way," assented Jawleyford ; 
 " better if it had been water-tight, perhaps," added he, as a big 
 drop splashed upon the crown of his head. 
 
 " The contents must be very valuable," observed Sponge. 
 
 " Verij valuable," replied Jawleyford. "Thej-e's a thing I gave 
 two hundred and fifty guineas for — that vase. It's of Parian 
 marble, of the Cinque Cento period, beautifully sculptured in a 
 dance of Bacchanals, arabesques, and chimera figures : it w^as 
 considered cheap. Those tine monkeys in Dresden china, playing 
 on musical instruments, were forty ; theses bronzes of scara- 
 mouches, on or-molu plinths were seventy ; that or-mulu clock, of 
 the style of Louis Quinze, by Le Roy, was eighty ; those Sevres 
 vases were a hundred — mounted, you see, in or-molu, with lily 
 candelabra for ten lights. The handles," continued he, drawing 
 Sponge's attention to them, "are very handsome — composed of 
 satyrs holding festoons of grapes and flowers, which surround the 
 neck of the vase ; on the sides are pastoral subjects, painted in the 
 highest style — nothing can be more beautiful, or more chaste." 
 
 "Nothing," assented Sponge. 
 
 " The pictures I should think are most valuable," observed 
 Jawleyford. " My friend Lord Sparklebury said to me the last 
 time he was here — he's now in Italy, increasing his collection — 
 ' Jawleyford, old boy,' said he, for we are veiy intimate — just like 
 brothers, in fact ; ' Jawleyford, old boy, I wonder whether your 
 collection or mine would fetch most money, if they were Christie- 
 &-Manson'd.' ' Oh, your lordship,' said I, ' your Guides, and 
 Ostades, and Poussins, and Velasquez, are not to be surpassed.'
 
 MB. SFONGE'S SFOMTING TOUIi. 101 
 
 ' True,' replied his lordship, * they arc fine — very fine ; but you 
 have the Murillos. I'd like to give you a good round sum,' added 
 he, ' to pick out half-a-dozen pictures out of your gallery.' Do you 
 understand pictures ? " continued Jawleyford, turning short on his 
 friend Sponge. 
 
 "A little," replied Sponge, in a tone that might mean either yes 
 or no — a gi'eat deal or nothing at all. 
 
 Jawleyford then took him and worked him through his collec- 
 tion — talked of light and shade, and tone, and depth of colouring, 
 tints, and pencillings ; and put Sponge here and there and every- 
 where to catch the light (or rain, as the case might be) ; made him 
 convert his hand into an opera-glass, and occasionally put his head 
 between his legs to get an upside-down view — a feat that Sponge's 
 equestrian experience made him pretty well up to. So they looked, 
 and admired, and criticised, till Spigot's all-important figure 
 came looming up the gallery and announced that luncheon was 
 ready. 
 
 " Bless me ! " exclaimed Jawleyford, pulling a most diminutive 
 Geneva watch, hung with pencils, pistol-keys, and other curiosities, 
 out of his pocket ; " Bless me, who'd have thought it ? One 
 o'clock, I declare ! Well, if this doesn't prove the value of a 
 gallery on a wet day, I don't know what does. However," said he, 
 " we must tear ourselves away for the present and go and see what 
 the ladies are about." 
 
 If ever a man may be excused for indulging in luncheon, it 
 certainly is on a pouring wet day (when he eats for occupation), or 
 when he is making love ; both which excuses Mr. Sponge had to 
 offer, so he just sat down and ate as heartily as the best of the 
 party, not excepting his host himself, who was an excellent hand 
 at luncheon. 
 
 Jawleyford tried to get him back to the gallery after luncheon, 
 but a look from his wife intimated that Sponge was wanted 
 elsewhere, so he quietly saw him carried off" to the music-room ; 
 and presently the notes of the " grand piano," and full clear voices 
 of his daughters, echoing along the passage, intimated that they 
 were trying what effect music would have upon him. 
 
 When Mrs. Jawleyford looked in about an hour after, she found 
 Mr. Sponge sitting over the fire with his "Mogg" in his hand, 
 and the young ladies with their laps full of company-work, keeping 
 up a sort of cross-fire of conversation in the shape of question and 
 answer. Mrs. Jawley ford's company making matters worse, they 
 soon became tediously agreeable. 
 
 In course of time, Jawleyford entered the room, with — 
 
 "My dear Mr. Sponge, your groom has come up to know about 
 your horse to-morrow. I told him it was utterly impossible to 
 think of hunting, but he says he must have his orders from you.
 
 102 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 I should say," added Jawleyford, " it is quite out of the question — 
 madness to think of it ; much better in the house, such weather." 
 
 "I don't know that," replied Sponge, "the rain's come down, 
 and though the country will ride heavy, I don't see why we 
 shouldn't have sport after it." 
 
 " But the glass is falling, and the wind's gone round the wrong 
 way ; the moon changed this morning — everything, in short, in- 
 dicates continued wet," replied Jawleyford. " The rivers are all 
 swollen, and the low grounds under water ; besides, my dear fellow, 
 consider the distance — consider the distance ; sixteen miles, if it's 
 a yard." 
 
 " What, Duntleton Tower ! " exclaimed Sponge, recollecting 
 that Jawleyford had said it was only ten the night before. 
 
 " Sixteen miles, and bad road," replied Jawleyford. 
 
 " The deuce it is ! " muttered Sponge ; adding, " Well, I'll go 
 and see my groom, at all events." So saying, he rang the bell as 
 if the house was his own, and desired Spigot to show him the way 
 to his servant. 
 
 Leather, of course, was in the servants'-hall, refreshing himself 
 with cold meat and ale, after his ride up from Lucksford. 
 
 Finding that he had ridden the hack up, he desired TiCather to 
 leave him there. "Tell the groom I must have him put up," 
 said Sponge ; " and you ride the chesnut on in the morning. How 
 far is it to Duntleton Tower ? " asked he. 
 
 " Twelve or thirteen miles, they say, from here," replied Leather ; 
 " nine or ten from Lucksford." 
 
 " Well, that'll do," said Sponge ; " you tell the groom here to 
 have the hack saddled for me at nine o'clock, and you ride Multum 
 in Parvo quietly on, either to the meet, or till I overtake you." 
 
 " But how am I to get back to Lucksford ? " asked Leather, 
 cocking up a foot to show how thinly he was shod. 
 
 " Oh, just as you can," replied Sponge ; " get the groom here to 
 set you down with his master's hacks. I daresay they haven't 
 been out to-day, and it'll do them good." 
 
 So saying, Mr. Sponge left his valuable servant to do the best 
 he could for himself. 
 
 Having returned to the music-room, with the aid of an old 
 county map Mr. Sponge proceeded to trace his way to Duntleton 
 Tower ; aided, or rather retarded, by Mr. Jawleyford, who kept 
 pointing out all sorts of difficulties, till, if Mr. Sponge had fol- 
 lowed his advice, he would have made eighteen or twenty miles of 
 the distance. Sponge, however, being used to scramble about 
 strange countries, saw the place was to be accomplished in ten or 
 eleven. Jawleyford was sure he would lose himself, and Sponge 
 was equally confident that he wouldn't. 
 
 At length the glad sound of the gong put an end to all further
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 103 
 
 argument ; and the inmates of Jawleyford Court retired, candle in 
 hand, to their respective apartments, to adorn for a repetition of 
 the yesterday's spread, with the addition of the liev. Mr. Hobanob's 
 company, to say grace, and praise the " "Wintle." 
 
 An appetiteless dinner was succeeded by tea and music, as 
 before. 
 
 The three elegant French clocks in the drawing-room being at 
 variance, one being three-quarters of an hour before the slowest, 
 and twenty minutes before the next, Mr. Hobanob (much to the 
 horror of Jawleyford) having nearly fallen asleep with his Sevres 
 colTee-cup in his hand, at last drew up his great silver watch by its 
 jack-chain, and finding that it was a quarter past ten, prepared to 
 decamp — taking as affectionate a leave of the ladies as if he had 
 been going to China. He was followed by Mr. Jawleyford, to see 
 him pocket his pumps, and also by Mr. Sponge, to see what sort 
 of a night it was. 
 
 The sky was clear, stars sparkled in the firmament, and a young 
 crescent moon shone with silvery brightness o'er the scene. 
 
 *' That'll do," said Sponge, as he eyed it ; "no haze there. Come," 
 added he to his papa-in-law, as Hobanob's steps died out on the 
 terrace, " you'd better go to-morrow." 
 
 " Can't," replied Jawleyford ; " go next day, perhaps — Scram- 
 bleford Green — better place — much. You may lock up," said he, 
 turning to Spigot, who, with both footmen, was in attendance to 
 see Mr. Hobanob off ; " you may lock up, and tell the cook to 
 have breakfast ready at nine precisely.''^ 
 
 " Oh, never mind about breakfast for me," interposed Sponge, 
 " I'll have some tea or coffee and chops, or boiled ham and eggs, 
 or whatever's going, in my bed-room," said he ; " so never mind 
 altering your hour for me." 
 
 " Oh, but my dear fellow, we'll all breakfast together" (Jawley- 
 ford had no notion of standing two breakfasts) " we'll all break- 
 fast together," said he ; " no trouble, I assure you — rather the con- 
 trary. Say half-past eight — half-past eight, Spigot I to a minuie, 
 mind." 
 
 And Sponge, seeing there was no help for it, bid the ladies good 
 night, and tumbled off to bed with little expectation of 
 punctuality.
 
 104 
 
 MB. SFONGE'H HFOIiTINU TOUIL. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE F. H. H. 
 
 NOR was Sponge wroDii; 
 in his conjecture, for 
 it was a nuarter to 
 nine ere Spigot a] - 
 
 " peared with the mas- 
 sive silver urn, fo!- 
 
 . lowed by the train- 
 
 1 band bold, bearing 
 1 *T^ I I '^MS^^^!^BHH111111 liHItY' / the heavy implements 
 
 > ^ ^^^^^^^rai f I m I ' *^f ^'■efi'^'asfc- Then, 
 
 / I , lit ^^E^aH?!l UJ 11 illlrMT / though the young 
 
 ladies were punctual, 
 smiling, and affable 
 as usual, Mrs. Jaw- 
 ley ford Avas absent, 
 and she had the keys ; 
 so it was nearly nine 
 before Mr, Sponge 
 <rot his fork into his 
 first mutton chop. 
 .Jawleyford was not 
 exactly pleased ; he 
 thought it didn't look 
 well for a young man 
 to prefer hunting to 
 the society of his lovely nnd accomplished daughters. Hunting 
 was all very well occasionally, but it did not do to make a business 
 of it. This, however, he kept to himself. 
 
 "You'll have a fine day, my dear Mr. Sponge," said he, ex- 
 tending a hand, as he found our friend brown-booted and red- 
 coated, working away at the breakfast. 
 
 *' Yes," said Sponge, munching away for hard life. In less than 
 ten minutes, he managed to get as much down as, with the aid of 
 a knotch of bread that he pocketed, be thought would last him 
 through the day ; and, with a hasty adieu, he hurried off to find 
 the stables, to get his hack. The piebald was saddled, bridled, 
 and turned round in the stall ; for all servants that are worth any- 
 thing like to farther hunting operations. With the aid of the 
 groom's instructions, who accompanied him out of the court-yard, 
 
 ME. ROBERT KDOZI.E.
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 105 
 
 Sponge ^vas enabled to set off at a hard canter, cheered by the 
 groom's observation, that " he thought he would be there in time." 
 On, on he went ; now speculating on a turn ; now pulling a 
 scratch map he had made on a bit of paper out of his waistcoat- 
 pocket ; now inquiring the name of any place he saw of any per- 
 son he met. So he proceeded for five or six miles without much 
 difficulty ; the road, though not all turnpike, being mainly over 
 good sound township ones. It was at the village of Swineley, witli 
 its chubby-towered church and miserable hut-like cottages, that his 
 troubles were to begin. He had two sharp turns to make — to ride 
 through a straw-yard, and leap over a broken-down wall at the 
 corner of a cottage — to get into Swaithing Green Lane, and so cut 
 off an angle of two miles. The road then became a bridle one, 
 and was, like all bridle ones, very plain to those who know them, 
 and very puzzling to those who don't. It was evidently a little- 
 frequented road ; and what with looking out for footmarks (now 
 nearly obliterated by the recent rains) and speculating on what 
 queer corners of the fields the gates would be in, Mr. Sponge 
 found it necessary to reduce his pace to a very moderate trot. 
 Still he had made good way ; and supposing they gave a quarter- 
 of-an-hour's law, and he had not been deceived as to distance, he 
 thought he should get to the meet about the time. His horse, too, 
 would be there, and perhaps Lord Scamperdale might give a little 
 extra law on that account. He then began speculating on what 
 sort of a man his lordship was, and the probable nature of his 
 reception. He began to wish that Jawleyford had accompanied 
 him, to introduce him. Not that Sponge was shy, but still he 
 thought that Jawleyford's presence would do him good. 
 
 Lord Scamperdale's hunt Avas not the most polished in the 
 world. Tlie hounds and the horses were a good deal better bred 
 than the sien. Of course his lordship gave the (ofie to the whole ; 
 and being a coarse, broad, barge-built sort of man, he had his 
 clothes to correspond, and looked like a drayman in scarlet. He 
 wore a great round flat-brimmed hat, which being adopted by the 
 hunt generally, procured it the name of the " F. H. H.," or " Flat 
 Hat Hunt." Our readers, we daresay, have noticed it figuring 
 away, in the list of hounds during the winter, along with the 
 H. H.'s, "V. W. PL's" and other initialized packs. His lordship's 
 clothes were of the large, roomy, baggy, abundant order, with 
 great pockets, great buttons, and lots of strings flying out. 
 Instead of tops, he sported leather leggings, which at a distance 
 gave him the appearance of riding with his trousers up to his 
 knees. These the hunt too adopted ; and his " particular," Jack, 
 (Jack Spraggon) the man whom he mounted, and who was made 
 much in his own mould, sported, like his patron, a pair of 
 great broad-rimmed, tortoise-shell spectacles of considerable
 
 106 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 power. Jack was always at his lordship's elbow ; and it was 
 "Jack" this, "Jack" that, "Jack" something, all day long. 
 But we must return to Mr. Sponge, whom we left working his 
 way through the intricate fields. At last he got through them, 
 and into Red Pool Common, which, by leaving the windmill to 
 the right, he cleared pretty cleverly, and entered upon a district 
 still wilder and drearier than any he had traversed. Pewits 
 screamed and hovered over land that seemed to grow little but 
 rushes and water-grasses, with occasional heather. The ground 
 poached and splashed as he went ; worst of all, time was nearly up. 
 
 In vain Sponge strained his eyes in search of Duntleton Tower. 
 In vain he fancied every high, sky-line-breaking place in the dis- 
 tance was the much wishcd-for spot. Duntleton Tower was no 
 more a tower than it was a town, and would seem to have been 
 christened by the rule of contrary, for it was nothing but a great 
 flat open space, without object or incident to note it. 
 
 Sponge, however, was not destined to see it. 
 
 As he went floundering along through an apparently intermin- 
 able and almost bottomless lane, whose sunken places and deep 
 ruts were filled witli clayey water, which played the very deuce 
 with the cords and brown boots, the light note of a hound fell on 
 his ear, and almost at the same instant, a something that he would 
 have taken for a dog had it not been for the note of the hound, 
 turned as it were, from him, and went in a contrary direction. 
 
 Sponge reined in the piebald, and stood transfixed. It was, 
 indeed, the fox ! — a magnificent full-brushed fellow, with a slight 
 tendency to grey along the back, and going with the light spiry 
 case of an animal full of strength and running. 
 
 " I wish I mayn't ketch it," said Sponge to himself, shuddering 
 at the idea of having headed him. 
 
 It was, however, no time for thinking. The cry of hounds 
 became more distinct — nearer and nearer they came, fuller and 
 more melodious ; but, alas ! it was no music to Sponge. Presently 
 the cheering of hunters was heard — " For — rard! Foe — rard ! " 
 and anon the rate of a whip further back. Another second, and 
 hounds, horses, and men were in view, streaming away over the 
 large pasture on the left. 
 
 There was a high, straggling fence between Sponge and the 
 field, thick enough to prevent their identifying him, but not 
 sufficiently high to screen him altogether. Sponge pulled round 
 the piebald, and gathered himself together like a man going to 
 be shot. The hounds came tearing full cry to where he was ; 
 there was a breast-high scent, and eveiy one seemed to have it. 
 They charged the fence at a wattled pace a few yards below where 
 he sat, and flying across the deep dirty lane, dashed full cry into 
 the pasture beyond.
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUR. 107 
 
 " Hie bacJc!''^ cried Sponge. " Hie bacJc!^'' trying to turn tliem ; 
 but instead of the piebald cariying him in front of the pack, as 
 Sponge wanted, he took to rearing, and phmging, and pawing the 
 air. The hounds meanwhile dashed jealously on without a scent, 
 till first one and then another feeling ashamed, gave in ; and at 
 last a general lull succeeded the recent joyous cry. Awful period ! 
 terrible to any one, but dreadful to a stranger ! Though Sponge 
 was in the road, he well knew that no one has any business any- 
 where but with hounds, when a fox is astir. 
 
 " Hold hard ! " was now the cry, and the perspiring riders and 
 lathered steeds came to a stand-still. 
 
 " Tivang — twang — twang,^'' went a shrill horn ; and a couple of 
 whips, singling themselves out from the field, fiew over the fence 
 to where the hounds were casting. 
 
 " Tivang — twang — tivang^'' went the horn again. 
 
 Meanwhile Sponge sat enjoying the following observations, which 
 a westerly wind wafted into his ear. 
 
 " Oh, d n me ! that man in the lane's headed the fox," 
 
 puffed one. 
 
 " Who is it ? " gas]3ed another. 
 
 " Tom Washball ! " exclaimed a third. 
 
 " Heads more foxes than any man in the country," puffed a 
 fourth. 
 
 " Always nicking and skirting," exclaimed a fifth. 
 
 " Never comes to the meet," added a sixth. 
 
 " Come on a cow to-day," observed another. 
 
 " Always chopping and changing," added another ; " he'll come 
 on a giraffe next." 
 
 Having commenced his career with the " F. H. H." so inaus- 
 piciously and yet escaped detection, Mr. Sponge thought of letting 
 Tom Washball enjoy the honours of his faux-pas, and of 
 sneaking quietly home as soon as the hounds hit off the scent ; 
 but unluckily, just as they were crossing the lane, what should 
 heave in sight, cantering along at his leisure, but the redoubtable 
 Multum in Parvo, who, having got rid of Old Leather by bumping 
 and thumping his leg against a gate-post, was enjoying a line of 
 his own. 
 
 " Whoay ! " cried Sponge, as he saw the horse quickening his 
 pace to have a shy at the hounds as they crossed. Who — o — a — y ! " 
 roared he, brandishing his whip, and trying to turn the piebald 
 round ; but no, the brute wouldn't answer the bit, and dreading 
 lest, in addition to heading the fox, he should kill "the best 
 hound in the pack," Mr. Sponge threw himself off, regardless of 
 the mud-batli in which he lit, and caught the runaway as he tried 
 to dart past. 
 
 ^^ For-rard !^or-i-ard !—for-rardI'''' was again the cry, as
 
 108 ME. SFONGiJ'JS SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 the hounds hit off the scent ; while the late pausing, pan tin i: 
 sportsmen tackled vigorously with their steeds, and swept onward 
 like the careering wind. 
 
 Mr. Sponge, albeit somewhat perplexed, had still sufficient 
 presence of mind to see the necessity of immediate action ; and 
 though he had so lately contemplated beating a retreat, the unex- 
 pected appearance of Parvo altered the state of affairs. 
 
 " Now or never," said he, looking first at the disappearing field, 
 and then for the non-appearing Leather. " Hang it ! I may as 
 well see the run," added he ; so hooking the piebald on to an old 
 stone gate-post that stood in the ragged fence, and lengthening a 
 stirrup-leather, he vaulted into the saddle, and began lengthening 
 the other as he went. 
 
 It was one of Parvo's going days ; indeed, it was that that Old 
 Leather and he had quarrelled about — Parvo wanting to follow the 
 hounds, while Leather wanted to wait for his master. And Parvo 
 had the knack of going, as well as the occasional inclination. 
 Although such a drayhorse-looking animal, he could throw the 
 ground behind him amazingly ; and the deep-holding clay in 
 which he now found himself was admirably suited to his short 
 powerful legs and enormous stride. The consequence was, that he 
 was very soon up with the hindmost horsemen. These he soon 
 passed, and was presently among those who ride hard when there 
 is nothing to stop them. Such time as these sportsmen could 
 now spare from looking out ahead was devoted to Sponge, whom 
 they eyed with the utmost astonishment, as if he had dropped 
 from the clouds. 
 
 A stranger — a real out-and-out stranger — had not visited their 
 remote regions since the days of poor Nimrod. " Who could it 
 be ? " But " the pace," as Nimrod used to say, " was too good to 
 inquire." A little further on, and Sponge drew upon the great 
 guns of the hunt— the men who ride to hounds, and not aft^r 
 them ; the same who had criticised him through the fence — Mr. 
 Wake, Mr. Fossick, Parson Blossomnose, Mr. Fyle, Lord Scamper- 
 dale, Jack himself and others. Great was their astonishment at 
 the apparition, and inc iherent the observations they dropped as 
 they galloped on. 
 
 " It isn't Wash, after all," whispered Fyle into Blossomnose's 
 car, as they rode through a gate together. 
 
 " No-o-o," replied the nose, eyeing Sponge intently. 
 
 " What a coat ! " whispered one. 
 
 " Jacket," replied the other. 
 
 " Lost his brush," observed a third, winking at Sponge's docked 
 tail. 
 
 " He's going to ride over us all," snapped Mr. Fossick, whom 
 Sponge passed at a hand-canter, as the former was blobbing
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SFORTING TOUR. 109 
 
 and floundering about the deep ruts leading out of a turnip- 
 field. 
 
 " He'll catch it just now," said Mr. Wake, eyeing Sponge 
 drawing upon his lordship and Jack, as they led the field as usual. 
 Jack being at a respectful distance behind his gi'eat patron, espied 
 Sponge first ; and having taken a good stare at him through his 
 formidable spectacles, to satisfy himself that it was nobody he 
 knew — a stare that Sponge returned as well as a man without 
 spectacles can return the stare of one with — Jack spurred his 
 horse up to his lordship, and, rising in his stirrups, shot into his 
 car — 
 
 " Why, here's the man on the cow ! " adding, " ItisnH Washe]/."" 
 
 " Who the deuce is it, then ? " asked his lordship, looking over 
 ills left shoulder, as he kept galloping on in the wake of his 
 huntsman. 
 
 " Don't know," replied Jack ; " never saw him before." 
 
 " Nor I," said his lordship with an air, as much as to say, " It 
 makes no matter." 
 
 His lordship, though well mounted, was not exactly on the sort 
 of horse for the country they were in ; while Mr. Sponge, in 
 addition to being on the very animal for it, had the advantage of 
 the horse having gone the first part of the run without a rider: so 
 ]\Iultum in Parvo, whether Mr. Sponge wished it or not, insisted on 
 ])eing as far forward as he could get. The more Sponge pulled and 
 hauled, the more determined the horse was ; till, having thrown 
 both Jack and his lordship in the rear, he made for old Frostyface, 
 the huntsman, who was riding well up to the still-flying pack. 
 
 " Hold hard, sir ! For God's sake, hold hard ! " screamed 
 Frosty, who knew by intuition there was a horse behind, as well 
 as he knew there was a man shooting in front, who, in all pro- 
 bability, had headed the fox. 
 
 " Hold hard, sir ! " roared he, as, yawning and boring and 
 shaking his head, Parvo dashed through the now yelping scattered 
 pack, making straight for a stiff new gate, which he smashed 
 through, just as a circus pony smashes through a paper hoop. 
 
 " Hoo-ray ! " shouted Jack Spraggon, on seeing the hounds 
 were safe. " Hoo-ray for the tailor ! " 
 
 " Billy Button, himself ! " exclaimed his lordship ; adding 
 " Never saw such a thing in my life ! " 
 
 " Who the deuce is he ? " asked Blossomnose, in the full glow 
 of pulling-five-year-old exertion. 
 
 " Don't know," replied Jack ; adding, " He's a shaver, whoever 
 he is." 
 
 Meanwhile the frightened hounds were scattered right and left. 
 
 " I'll lay a guinea he's one of those confounded writing chaps," 
 observed Fyle, who had been handled rather roughly by one of the
 
 110 ME. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 tribe, who had dropped "quite promiscuously" upon a field where 
 he was, just as Spouge had done with Lord Scamperdale's. 
 
 " Shouldn't wonder," replied his lordship, eyeing Sponge's vain 
 endeavours to turn the chesnut, and thinking how he would 
 "pitch into him" when he came up. "By Jove," added his 
 lordship, " if the fellow had taken the whole country round, he 
 couldn't have chosen a worse spot for such an exploit ; for there 
 never is any scent over here. See! not a hound can own it. Old 
 Harmony herself tiirows up ! " 
 
 The whips again are in their places, turning the astonished pack 
 to Frostyface, who sets olf on a casting expedition. The field, as 
 usual, sit looking on ; some blessing Sponge ; some wondering 
 who he was ; others looking what o'clock it is ; some dismounting 
 and looking at their horses' feet, 
 
 " Thank you, Mr. Brown Boots ! " exclaimed his lordship, as, 
 by dint of bitting and spurring, Sponge at length worked the 
 beast round, and came sneaking back in the face of the whole 
 field. " Thank you, Mister Brown Boots," repeated he, taking 
 oflF his hat, and bowing very low. " Very much obliged to you, 
 Mr. Brown Boots. Most particklarly obliged to you, Mr. Brown 
 Boots," with another low bow. " Hang'd obleged to you, Mr. 
 
 Brown Boots ! D n i/ou, Mr. Brown Boots ! " continued his 
 
 lordship, looking at Sponge as if he would eat him. 
 
 " Beg pardon, sir," blurted Sponge ; " my horse " 
 
 " Hang your horse ! " screamed his lordship ; " it wasn't your 
 horse that headed the fox, was it ? " 
 
 " Beg pardon — couldn't help it ; I " 
 
 " Couldn't help it. Hang your helps — you're always doing it, 
 sir. You could stay at home, sir — I s'pose, sir — couldn't you, sir ? 
 eh, sir?" 
 
 Sponge was silent. 
 
 " See, sir ! " continued his lordship, pointing to the mute pack 
 now following the huntsman, '* you've lost us our fox, sir — yes, 
 sir, lost us our fox, sir. D'ye call that nothin', sir ? If you don't, 
 / do, you perpendicular-looking Puseyite pig-jobber ! By Jove ! 
 you think because I'm a lord, and can't swear, or use coarse 
 language, that you may do what you like — but I'll take my hounds 
 home, sir — yes, sir, I'll take my hounds home, sir." So saying, 
 his lordship roared home to Frostyface ; adding, in an undertone 
 to the first whip, " bid him go to Furzing-field gorse^
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPOUTING TOUR. Ill 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 
 A COUNTRY DINNER-PARTY. 
 
 MR. SPONGE AND THE MISSES JAWLEYFORD. 
 
 " Well, what sport ? " asked Jawleyford, as he eiicouutered 
 his exceedingly dirty friend crossing the entrance hall to his bed- 
 room on his return from his day, or rather his non-day, with tiic 
 " Flat Hat Hunt."
 
 112 MB. SPONGE'S SPOUTING TOUR. 
 
 "Why, not much — that's to say, nothing particular — I mean, 
 I've not had any," blurted Spons^e. 
 
 " But you've had a run ? " observed Jawleyford, pointing to his 
 boots and breeches, stained with the variation of each soil. 
 
 " Ah, I got most of that going to cover," replied Sponge ; 
 " country's awfully deep, roads abominably dirty ; " adding, " 1 
 wish I'd taken your advice, and stayed at home." 
 
 " I wish you had," replied Jawleyford, " you'd have had a most 
 excellent rabbit-pie for luncheon. However, get changed, and we 
 will hear all about it after." So saying, jawleyford waved an 
 adieu, and Sponge stamped away in his dirty water-logged boots. 
 
 " rm afraid you are very wet, ]\Ir. Sponge," observed Amelia 
 in the sweetest tone, with the most loving smile possible, as our 
 friend, with three steps at a time, bounded up-stairs, and nearly 
 butted her on the landing, as she was on the point of coming 
 down. 
 
 " I am that," exclaimed Sponge, delighted at the greeting ; " I 
 am that," repeated he, slapping his much-stained cords ; " dirty, 
 too," added he, looking down at his nether man. 
 
 " Hadn't you better get changed as quick as possible ? " asked 
 Amelia, still keeping her position before him. 
 
 " Oh ! all in good time," replied Sponge, " all in good time. 
 The sight of you warms me more than a fire would do ; " adding, 
 " I declare you look quite bewitching, after all the roughings and 
 tumblings about out of doors." 
 
 " Oh ! you've not had a fall, have you ? " exclaimed Amelia, 
 looking the picture of despair ; " you've not had a fall, have you ? 
 Do send for the doctor, and be bled." 
 
 Just then a door along the passage to the left opened ; and 
 Amelia, knowing pretty well who it was, smiled and tripped away, 
 leaving Sponge to be bled or not as he thought proper. 
 
 Our hero then made for his bed-room, where, having sucked off 
 his adhesive boots, and divested himself of the rest of his hunting 
 attire, he wrapped himself up in his grey flannel dressing-gown, and 
 prepared for parboiling his legs and feet, amid agreeable anticipa- 
 tions arising out of (.he recent interview, and occasional references 
 to his old friend " Mogg," whenever he did not see his way on the 
 matrimonial road as clearly as he could wish. " She'll have me, 
 that's certain," observed he. 
 
 " Curse the water ! how hot it is ! " exclaimed he, catching his 
 foot up out of the bath, into which he had incautiously plunged it 
 without ascertaining the temperature of the water. He then 
 sluiced it with cold, and next had to add a little more hot ; at 
 last he got it to his mind, and lighting a cigar, prepared for un- 
 interrupted enjoyment. 
 
 "Gad!" said he, "she's by no means a bad-looking girl"
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPOUTING TOUR. 113 
 
 (whiff). " Devilish good-looking girl" (puff) ; " good head and neck, 
 and carries it well too " (puff) — " capital eye " (whiff), " bright and 
 clear" (puff); "no cataracts there. She's all good together" 
 (whiff, puff, wdiiff). " Nice size too," continued he, " and well set 
 up " (Avhiff, puff, wdiiff) ; " straight as a dairy maid " (puff) ; 
 " i:»lenty of substance — grand thing substance " (puff). " Hate a 
 weedy woman — fifteen two and a half — that's to say, five feet four's 
 plenty of height for a woman " (puff). " Height of a woman hns 
 nothing to do with her size " (whiff). " Wish she hadn't run off" 
 (puff) ; " would like to have had a little more talk with her " 
 (whiff, putt'). " Women never look so well as when one comes in 
 wet and dirty from hunting " (puff). He then sank silently back 
 in the easy chair and whiffed and puffed all sorts of fantastic 
 clouds and columns and corkscrews at his leisure. The cigar being 
 finished, and the Avater in the foot-bath beginning to get cool, he 
 emptied the remainder of the hot into it, and lighting a fresh cigar, 
 began speculating on how the match was to be accomplished. 
 
 The lady was safe, that was clear ; he had nothing to do but 
 " pop." That he would do in the evening, or in the morning, or 
 any time — a man living in the house with a girl need never be in 
 want of an opportunity. That preliminary over, and the usual 
 answer "Ask papa" obtained, then came the question, how was 
 the old boy to be managed ? — for men with marriageable daughters 
 are to all intents and purposes " old boys ; " be their ages what 
 they may. 
 
 He became lost in reflection. He sat with his eyes fixed on the 
 Jawleyford portrait above the mantelpiece, wondering whether ho 
 was the amiable, liberal, hearty, disinterested sort of man, ho 
 appeared to be, indifferent about money, and only wanting un- 
 exceptionable young men for his daughters ; or if he was a worldly- 
 minded man, like some he had met, who, after giving him every 
 possible encouragement, sent him to the right about like a servant. 
 So Sponge smoked and thought, and thought and smoked, till, the 
 water in the foot-bath again getting cold, and the shades of night 
 drawing on, he at last started up like a man determined to awake 
 himself, and poking a match into the fire, lighted the candles on the 
 toilet-table, and proceeded to adorn himself. Having again got 
 himself into the killing tights and buckled pumps, with a fine 
 flower-fronted shirt, ere he embarked on the delicacies and 
 difficulties of the starcher, he stirred the little pittance of a fire, 
 and folding himself in his dressing-gown, endeavoured to prepare 
 his mind for the calm consideration of all the minute bearings of 
 the question by a little more Mogg. In idea he transferred him- 
 self to London, now fancying himself standing at the end of 
 Burlington Arcade, hailing a Fulham or Turnham Green 'bus ; 
 now wrangling with a conductor for charging him sixpence when 
 
 I
 
 Ill ME. SPONGE'S SPORTIXG TOUR. 
 
 there was a pennant flapping- at his nose with the words "All the 
 WAY 3d." upon it ; now folding the wooden doors of a Hansom cab 
 in Oxford-street, calculating the extreme distance he could go for 
 an eightpenny fare : until at last he fell into a dowiu'ight vacant 
 sort of reading, without rhyme or reason, just as one sometimes 
 takes a read of a directory or a dictionary — "Conduit-street, 
 George-street, to or from the Adelphi-terrace, Astley's Amphi- 
 theatre, Baker-street, King-street, Bryanst on -square any part, 
 Covent Garden Theatre, Foundling Hospital, Hattou Garden " and 
 so on, till the thunder of the gong aroused him to a recollection of 
 his duties. He then up and at his neckcloth. 
 
 "Ah, well," said he, reverting to his lady love, as he eyed him- 
 self intently in the glass while performing the critical operation, 
 '' I'll just sound the old gentleman after dinner — one can do that, 
 sort of thing better over one's wine, perhaps, than at any other 
 time : looks less formal too," added he, giving the cravat a know- 
 ing crease at the side ; " and if it doesn't seem to take, one can 
 just pass it off as if it was done for somebody else — some young 
 gentleman at Laverick Wells, for instance." 
 
 So saying, he on with his white waistcoat, and crowned the 
 conquering suit with a blue coat and metal buttons. Returning 
 his " Mogg " to his dressing-gown pocket, he blew out the candles, 
 and groped his way downstairs in the dark. 
 
 In passing the dining-room he looked in (to see if there wee 
 any champagne-glasses set, we believe), when he saw that he should 
 not have an opportunity of sounding his intended papa-in-law 
 after dinner, for he found the table laid for twelve, and a grca& 
 display of plate, linen, and china. 
 
 He then swaggered on to the drawing-room, which was in a blaze 
 of light. The lively Emily had stolen a march on her sister, and 
 had just entered, attired in a fine new pale yellow silk dress with 
 a point-lace berthe and other adornments. 
 
 High words had ensued between the sisters as to the meanness 
 of Amelia in trying to take her beau from her, especially after the 
 airs Amelia had given herself respecting Sponge ; and a minute 
 observer might have seen the slight tinge of red on Emily's eyehds 
 denoting the usual issue of such scenes. The result was, that each 
 determined to do the best she could for herself ; and free trade 
 being proclaimed, Emily proceeded to dress with all expedition, 
 calculating that, as Mr. Sponge had come in wet, he would, very 
 likely dress at once and appear in the drawing-room in good time. 
 Nor was she out in her reckoning, for see had hardly enjoyed an 
 approving glance in the mirror ere our hero came swaggering in, 
 twiching his arms as if he hadn't got his wristbands adjusted and 
 working his legs as if they didn't belong to him. 
 
 " Ah, my dear Miss Emley ! " exclaimed he, advancing gaily
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 115 
 
 to\vards licr with extended hand, which she took with all tlie 
 pleasure in the world ; adding, " And how have you been ? " 
 
 " Oh, pretty well, thank you," replied she, looking as though 
 she would have said, " As well as I can be without you." 
 
 Sponge, though a consummate judge of a horse, and all the 
 minutia3 connected with them, was still rather green in the matter 
 of woman ; and having settled in his own mind that Amelia should 
 be his choice, he concluded that Emily knew all about it, and was 
 working on her sister's account, instead of doing the agreeable for 
 jiersclf. And there it is where elder sisters have such an advan- 
 tngo over younger ones. They are always shown, or contrive to 
 show themselves, first ; and if a man once makes up his mind that 
 the elder one will do, there is an end of the matter ; and it is 
 neither a deeper shade or two of blue, nor a brighter tinge ol' 
 brown, nor a little smaller foot, nor a more elegant waist, that 
 will make him change for a younger sister. The younger ones 
 immediately become sisters in the men's minds, and retire, or are 
 retired, from the field — " scratched," as Sponge would say. 
 
 Amelia, however, was not going to give Emily a chance ; for, 
 having dressed with all the expedition compatible with an attractive 
 toilet — a lavender-coloured satin with broad black lace flounces, 
 and some hea\'y jewellery on her well-turned arms, she came sidling 
 in so gently as almost to catch Emily in the act of playing the 
 agreeable. Turning the sidle into a stately sail, with a haughty 
 sort of sneer and toss of the head to her sister, as much as to say, 
 "What are you doing with my man?" — a sneer that suddenly 
 changed into a sweet smile as her eye encountered Sponge's — she 
 just motioned him off to a sofa, where she commenced a soilo voce 
 conversation in the engaged-couple style. 
 
 The plot then began to thicken. First came Jawleyford, in a 
 terrible stew. 
 
 "Well, this is too bad ! " exclaimed he, stamping and flourish- 
 ing a scented note, with a crest and initials at the top. " This is 
 foo lad," repeated he ; " people accepting invitations, and then 
 crying off at the last moment." 
 
 " Who is it can't come, papa — the Foozles ? " asked Emily. 
 
 "No — Foozles be hanged," sneered Jawleyford; "they always 
 come — the Blossomnoscs ! " replied he, with an emj^hasis. 
 
 "The Blossoranoses !" exclaimed both girls, clasping their 
 hands and looking up at the ceiling. 
 
 " What, all of them ? " asked Emily. 
 
 " All of them,'''' rejoined Jawleyford. 
 
 " Why, that's four," observed Emily. 
 
 " To be sure it is," replied Jawleyford ; " fis'e, if you count 
 them by appetites ; for old Blossom always eats and drinks as 
 much as two people." 
 
 I 2
 
 110/ ATli. SPONGi:'S SPOnTING TOUR. 
 
 " "What excuse do they give ? " asked Amelia. 
 
 " Carriage-horse taken suddenly ill," replied Jawlcyford ; *' as if 
 that's any excuse when there are post-horses within half-a-dozen 
 miles." 
 
 "He wouldn't have been stopped hunting for want of a horse, 
 I dare say," observed Amelia. 
 
 " I dare say it's all a lie," observed Jawleyford ; adding, " how- 
 over, the invitation shall go for a dinner, all the same." 
 
 The denunciation was interrupted by the appearance of Spigot, 
 who came looming up the spacious drawing-room in the full 
 magnificence of black shorts, silk stockings, and budded pumps, 
 followed by a sheepish-looking, straight-haired, red apple-faced 
 young gentlemen, whom he announced as Mr. Robert Foozle. 
 Robert was the hope of the house of Foozle ; and it was fortunate 
 his parents were satisfied with him, for few other people were. He 
 was a youug gentleman who shook hands with everybody, assented 
 to anything that anybody said, and in answering a question, 
 where indeed his conversation chiefly consisted, he always followed 
 the words of the interrogation as much as he could. For instance : 
 ""Well, Robert, have you been at Dulverton to-day.?" Answer, 
 "No, I've not been at Dulverton to-day." Question, "Are you 
 going to Dulverton to-morrow?" Answer, "No, I'm not going 
 to Dulverton, to-morrow." Having shaken hands with the party 
 aU round, and turned to the fire to warm his red fists, Jawleyford 
 having stood at "attention" for such time as he thought Mrs. 
 Foozle would be occupied before the glass in his study arranging 
 her head-gear, and seeing no symptoms of any further announce- 
 ment, at last asked Foozle if his papa and mamma were not coming. 
 
 " No, my papa and mamma are not coming," replied he. 
 
 "Are you sure .?" asked Jawleyford, in a tone of excitement. 
 
 " Quite sure," replied Foozle, in the most matter-of-course voice. 
 
 " The deuce ! " exclaimed Jawleyford, stamping his foot upon 
 the soft rug ; adding, " It never rains but it pours ! " 
 
 " Have you any note, or anything ? " asked Mrs. Jawleyford, 
 Avho had followed Robert Foozle into the room. 
 
 "Yes, I have a note," replied he, diving into the inner pocket 
 of bis coat, and producing one. 
 
 The note was a letter — a letter from Mrs. Foozle to Mrs. 
 Jawleyford, three sides and crossed ; and seeing the magnitude 
 thereof, Mrs. Jawleyford quietly put it into her reticule, observ- 
 ing, " that she hoped ]\Ir. and Mrs. Foozle were well ? " 
 
 "" Yes, they are well," replied Robert, notwithstanding he had 
 express orders to say that his papa had the tooth-ache, and his 
 mamma the car-ache. 
 
 Jawleyford then gave a furious ring at the bell for dinner, and 
 in due course of time the party of six proceeded to a table for
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 117 
 
 twelve. Spons^e pawned Mrs. Jawlcyford off upon Robert Foozle, 
 which gave Sponge the right to the fair Amelia, who walked off 
 on his arm with a toss of her head at Emily, as though she 
 thought him the finest, sprightiiest man under the sun. Emily 
 followed, and Jawlcyford came sulking in alone, sore put out at 
 the failure of what he meant for the grand entertainment. 
 
 Lights blazed in profusion ; lamps more accustomed had now 
 become better behaved ; and the whole strength of the plate was 
 called in requisition, sadly puzzling the unfortunate cook to find 
 something to put upon the dishes. She, however, was a real 
 magnanimous-minded woman, who would undertake to cook a 
 lord mayor's feast — soups, sweets, joints, entrees, and all. 
 
 Jawlcyford was nearly silent duriug the dinner ; indeed, ho was 
 too far off for conversation, had there been any for him to join 
 in ; which was not the case, for Amelia and Sponge kept up a 
 hum of words, while Emily worked Eobert Foozle with question 
 and answer, such as 
 
 " Were your sisters out to-day ?" 
 
 " Yes, my sisters were out to-day." 
 
 "Arc your sisters going to the Christmas ball ? " 
 
 "Yes, my sisters are going to the Christmas ball," &c., &c. 
 
 Still, nearly daft as Robert was, he was generally asked where 
 there was anything going on ; and more than one young la — but 
 we will not tell about that, as he has nothing to do with our story. 
 
 By the time the ladies took their departure, ]\Ir. Jawlcyford 
 had somewhat recovered from the annoyance of his disappointment ; 
 and as they retired he rang the bell, and desired Spigot to set in 
 the horse-shoe table, and bring a bottle of the " green seal," being 
 the colour affixed on the bottles of a four-dozen hamper of port 
 (" curious old port at 485.") that had arrived from " Wintle and 
 Co." by rail (goods train of course) that morning. 
 
 " Tliere I " exclaimed Jawlcyford, as Spigot placed the richly- 
 cut decanter on the horse-shoe table. " There ! " repeated he, draw- 
 ing the green curtain as if to shade it from the fire, but in reality 
 to hide the dulness the recent shaking had given it ; " that wine," 
 said he, "is a quarter of a century in bottle, at the very least." 
 
 " Indeed," observed Sponge : " time it was drank." 
 
 " A quarter of a century ? " gaped Robert Foozle. 
 
 " Quarter of a century if it's a day," replied Jawlcyford, smack- 
 ing his lips as he set down his glass after imbibing the precious 
 beverage. 
 
 " Very fine," observed Sponge ; adding, as he sipped off his 
 glass, " it's odd to find such old wine so full-bodied." 
 
 "Well, now tell us all about your day's proceedings," said 
 Jawlcyford, thinking it advisable to change the conversation at 
 once. " What sport had you with my lord ? "
 
 lis MB. SPONGE'S SPOTTING TOUR. 
 
 " Oil, Avhy, 1 really can't tell you much," drawled Sponge, with 
 an air of bewilderment. " Strange country — strange faces — 
 nobody I knew, and " 
 
 "Ah,' true," replied Jawlcyford, "true. It occurred to rac 
 after you "were gone, that perhaps you might not know any one. 
 Ours, you see, is rather an out-of-the-way country ; few of our 
 people go to town, or indeed anywhere else ; they are all tarry-at- 
 home birds. But they'd receive you with great politeness, I'm 
 sure — if they knew you came from here, at least," added he. 
 
 Sponge was silent, and took a great gulp of the dull " "Wintle," 
 to save himself from answering. 
 
 " Was my Lord Scamperdale out ? " asked Jawleyford, seeing he 
 was not going to get a reply. 
 
 "Why, I can really hardly tell you that," replied Sponge. 
 " There Avere two men out, cither of whom might be him ; at least, 
 they both seemed to take the lead, and — and — " he Avas going to 
 say " blow up the people," but he thought he might as well keep 
 that to himself. 
 
 " Stout, hale-looking men, dressed much alike, with great broad 
 tortoise-shell-rimmed spectacles on ? " asked Jawleyford. 
 
 "Just so," replied Sponge. 
 
 "Ah, you are right, then," rejoined Jawleyford; "it would bo 
 my lord." 
 
 " And who was the other ? " inquired our friend, 
 
 " Oh, that Jack Spraggon," replied Jawleyford, curling up his 
 nose, as if he was going to be sick ; " one of the most odious 
 MTctches under the sun. I really don't know any man that I have 
 so great a dislike to, so utter a contempt for, as that JacJc, as they 
 call him." 
 
 " What is he ? " asked Sponge. 
 
 " Oh, just a hanger-on of his lordship's : the creature has 
 nothing — nothing whatever ; he lives on my lord — eats his venison, 
 drinks his claret, rides his horses, bullies those his lordship doesn't 
 like to tackle with, and makes himself generally useful." 
 
 " He seems a man of that sort," observed Sponge, as he thought 
 over the compliments he had received. 
 
 " Well, who else had you out, then ? " asked Jawlcyford. 
 " Was Tom Washball there ? " 
 
 " No," replied Sponge : " he wasn't out, I know." 
 
 "Ah, that's unfortunate," observed Jawleyford, helping himself 
 and passing the bottle. "Tom's a capital fellow — a perfect 
 gentleman — great friend of mine. If he'd been out you'd have 
 had nothing to do but mention my name, and he'd have put 
 you all right in a minute. Who else was there, then ?" con- 
 tinued he. 
 
 "There was a tall man in black, on a good-looking young
 
 3IB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 110 
 
 brown horse, ratlicr rash at his fences, but a line style of 
 goer." 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed Jawleyford, " a man in drab cords and 
 jack-boots, with the brim of his hat rather turnin^G^ upwards ? " 
 
 " Just so," replied Sponge ; " and a double ribbon for a hat- 
 string." 
 
 " That's Master Blossomnose," observed Jawleyford, scarcely 
 able to contain his indignation. " That's Master Blossomnose," 
 repeated he, taking a back hand at the port in the excitement of 
 the moment. " More to his credit if he were to stay at home 
 and attend to his parish," added Jawleyford ; meaning, it would 
 have been more to his credit if he had fulfilled his engagement to 
 him that evening, instead of going out hunting in the morning. 
 
 The two then sat silent for a time, Sponge seeing where the sore 
 place was, and Robert Foozle, as usual, seeing nothing. 
 
 "Ah, well," observed Jawleyford, at length breaking silence, 
 " it was unfortunate you went this morning. I did my best to 
 prevent you — told you what a long way it was, and so on. How- 
 ever, never mind, we will put all right to-morrow. His lordship, 
 I'm sure, will be most happy to see you. So help yourself," 
 continued he, passing the " AVintle," " and we will drink his health, 
 and success to fox-hunting." 
 
 Sponge filled a bumper and drank his lordship's health, with 
 the accompaniment as desired ; and turning to Robert Foozle, 
 who was doing likewise, said, "Are you fond of hunting ?" 
 
 *' Yes, Vm fond of hunting," replied Foozle. 
 
 " But you don't hunt, you know, Robert," observed Jawleyford. 
 
 "No, I don't hunt," replied Robert. 
 
 The " green seal " being demolished, Jawleyford ordered a bottle 
 of the " other," attributing the slight discoloration (which he did 
 not discover until they had nearly finished the bottle) to change of 
 atmosphere in the outer cellar. Sponge tackled vigorously with 
 the new-comer, which was better than the first ; and Robert 
 Foozle, drinking as he spoke, by pattern, kept filling away, much 
 to Jawleyford's dissatisfaction, who was compelled to order a 
 third. During the progress of its demolition, the host's tongue 
 became considerably loosened. He talked of hunting and the 
 charms of the chase — of the good fellowship it produced ; and 
 expatiated on the advantages it was of to the country in a national 
 point of view, promoting as it did a spirit of manly enterprise, and 
 encouraging our unrivalled breed of horses ; both of which ho 
 looked opon as national objects, well worthy the attention of 
 enlightened men like himself. 
 
 Jawleyford was a great patron of the chase ; and his keeper, 
 Watson, always had a bag-fox ready to turn down when my lord's 
 hounds met there. Jawleyford's covers were never known to be
 
 120 MB. SPONGE'S SPOETING TOUR. 
 
 <li-awn blank. Though they had been shot in the day l)efore, they 
 always held a fox the next — if a fox was wanted. 
 
 Sponge being quite at home on the subject of horses and 
 hunting, lauded all his papa-in-law's observations up to the skies ; 
 occasionally considering whether it would be advisable to sell him 
 a horse, and thinking, if he did, whether he should let him have 
 one of the three he had down, or should get old Buckram to buy 
 some quiet screw that would stand a little work and yield him 
 (Sponge) a little profit, and yet not demolish the great patron of 
 English sports. The more Jawleyford drank, the more energetic 
 he became, and the greater pleasure he anticipated from the meet 
 •of the morrow. He docked the lord, and spoke of "Scamperdale" 
 as an excellent fellow — a real, good, hearty, honest Englishman — 
 a man that " the more you knew the more you liked ; " all of 
 which was very encouraging to Sponge. Spigot at length 
 appeared to read the tea and coffee riot-act, when Jawleyford, 
 determined not to be done out of another bottle pointing to the 
 nearly-emptied decanter, said to Robert Foozle, " I suppose you'll 
 not take any more wine ? " To which Robert replied, " No, I'll 
 not take any more wine." Whereupon, pushing out his chair and 
 throwing away his napkin, Jawleyford arose and led the way to 
 the drawing-room, followed by Sponge and this entertaining young 
 gentleman. 
 
 A round game followed tea ; which, in its turn, Avas succeeded 
 by a massive silver tray, chiefly decorated with cold water and 
 tumblers ; and as the various independent clocks in the drawing- 
 room began chiming and striking eleven, jMr. JaAvleyford thought 
 he would try to get rid of Foozle by asking him if he hadn't better 
 stay all night. 
 
 " Yes, i think I'd better stay all night," replied Foozle. 
 
 " But won't they be expecting you at home, Robert ? " asked 
 Jawleyford, not feeling disposed to be caught in his own trap. 
 
 " Yes, they'll be expecting me at home," replied Foozle. 
 
 *• Then, perhaps, you had better not alarm them by staying," 
 suggested Jawleyford. 
 
 " No, perhaps I'd better not alarm them by staying," repeated 
 Foozle. Whereupon they all rose, and wishing him a very good 
 night, Jawleyford handed him over to Spigot, who transferred him 
 to one footman, w^io passed him to another, to button into his 
 leather-headed shandridan. 
 
 After talking Robert over, and expatiating on the misfortune it 
 would be to have such a boy, Jawleyford rang the bell for the 
 banquet of water to be taken away ; and ordering breakfast half- 
 an-hour earlier than usual, our friends went to bed.
 
 ME. SFONGl!:'S SFOBTING TOUR. 121 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 THE F. H. H. AGAIN. 
 
 ,^^v^n' 
 
 :Vi>^ -^-^ 
 
 JAWLEVrORD GOING TO THE HINT. 
 
 Gentlemen unaccustomed to public hunting often make queer 
 figures of themselves when they go out. We have seen them in 
 all sorts of odd dresses, half fox-hunters, half fishermen, half fox- 
 hunters half sailors, with now and then a good sturdy cross of the 
 farmer. 
 
 Mr. Jawlcyford was a cross between a military dandy and a
 
 ri22J ME. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUR. 
 
 squire. The grecn-and-gold Bamperkin foraj^mg-cap, Avitli the 
 letters " B, Y. C," in front, was cocked jauntily on one side of 
 his badger-pyed head, while he played sportively with the patent 
 leather strap — now toying with it on his lip, now dropping it 
 below his chin, now hitching it up on to the peak. He had a 
 tremendously stiff stock on — so hard that no pressure made it 
 wrinkle, and so high that his pointed gills could hardly peer 
 above it. His coat was a bright green cut-away — made when 
 collars were Avorn very high and very hollow, and when waists 
 were supposed to be about the middle of a man's back, Jawlcy- 
 ford's back buttons occupying that remarkable position. These, 
 which were of dead gold with a bright rim, represented a hare full 
 stretch for her life, and were the buttons of the old Muggeridgo 
 hunt — a hunt that had died many years ago from want of the neces- 
 sary funds (80Z.) to carry it on. The coat, which w^as single- 
 breasted and velvet - collared, was extremely swallow - tailed, 
 presenting a remarkable contrast to the barge-built, roomy round- 
 abouts of the members of the Flat Hat Hunt ; the collar rising 
 behind, in the shape of a Gothic arch, exhibited all the stitchings 
 and threadings incident to that department of the garment. 
 
 But if ]\Ir. Jawleyford's coat went to " hare," his waistcoat was 
 fox and all " fox." On a bright blue ground he sported such an 
 infinity of " heads," that there is no saying that he would have 
 been safe in a kennel of unsteady hounds. One thing, to be sure, 
 was in his favour — namely, that they were just as much like cats' 
 heads as foxes'. The coat and waistcoat were old stagers, but his 
 nether man was encased in rhubarb-coloured tweed pantaloons of 
 the newest make — a species of material extremely soft and com- 
 fortable to wear, but not so well adajDtcd for roughing it across 
 country. These had a broad brown stripe down the sides, and 
 were shaped out over the foot of his fine French-polished paper 
 boots, the heels of which were decorated with long-necked, ringing- 
 spurs. Thus attired, with a little silver-mounted whip which he 
 kept flourishing about, he encountered Mr. Sponge in the entrance- 
 hall, after breakfast. Mr. Sponge, like all men who arc 
 " extremely natty " themselves, men who wouldn't have a button 
 out of place if it was ever so, hardly knew what to think of Jaw- 
 leyford's costume. It was clear he was no sportsman ; and then 
 came the question, whether he w^as of the privileged few who may 
 do what they like, and who can carry off any kind of absurdity. 
 Whatever uneasiness Sponge felt on that score, Jawleyford, how- 
 ever, was quite at his ease, and swaggered about like an aide-de- 
 camp at a review. 
 
 " Well, we should be going, I suppose," said he, drawing on a 
 pair of half-dirty, lemon-coloured kid gloves, and sabreing the air 
 with his whip.
 
 il/i?. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 123 
 
 " Is Lord Scampcrdalc punctual ? " asked Sponge. 
 
 " Tol-lol," replied Jawleyford, "tol-lol." 
 
 " ITe'Il wait for you, I suppose ? " observed Sponge, thinking to 
 try Jawleyford on that infallible criterion of favour. 
 
 " Why, if he knew I was coming, I dare say he would," replied 
 Jawleyford slowly and deliberately, feeling it was now no time 
 for flashing. " If he knew I was coming I dare say he would," 
 repeated he ; " indeed, I make no doubt he would : but one 
 doesn't like putting great men out of their way ; besides which, 
 it's just as easy to be punctual as otherwise. When I was in the 
 Bumperkin — " 
 
 " But your horse is on, isn't it ? " interrupted Sponge ; " he'll 
 see your horse there, you know." 
 
 " Horse on, my dear fellow ! " exclaimed Jawleyford, " horse 
 on ? No, certainly not. How should I get there myself, if my 
 horse was on ? " 
 
 " Hack, to be sure," replied Sponge, striking a light for his 
 cigar. 
 
 '"Ah, but then I should have no groom to go Avith me," 
 observed Jawleyford ; adding, " one must make a certain appear- 
 ance, you know. But come, my dear Mr. Sponge," continued he, 
 laying hold of our hero's arm, " let us get to the door, ibr that 
 cigar' of yours will fumigate the whole house ; and Mrs. Jawleyford 
 hates the smell of tobacco." 
 
 Spigot, with his attendants in livery? here put a stop to the 
 confab by hurrying past, drawing the bolts, and throwing_ back 
 the spacious folding doors, as if royalty or Daniel Lambert himself 
 were " coming out." 
 
 The noise they made was heard outside ; and on reaching the 
 top of the spacious flight of steps. Sponge's piebald in charge of a 
 dirty village lad, and Jawleyford's steeds with a sky-blue groom, 
 w^ere seen scuttling under the portico, for the owners to mount. 
 The Jawleyford cavalry was none of the best ; but Jawleyford 
 was pleased with it, and that is a great thing. Indeed, a thing 
 had only to be Jawlcvford's, to make Jawleyford excessively fond 
 of it. 
 
 "There !" exclaimed he, as they reached the third step from the 
 bottom. " There ! " repeated he, seizing Sponge by the arm, 
 " that's Avhat I call shape. You don't see such an animal as that 
 every day," pointing to a not badly-formed, but evidently worn- 
 out, over-knee'd bay, that stood knuckling and trembling for 
 Jawleyford to mount. 
 
 "One of the 'has boons,' I should say," replied Sponge, pufTing 
 a cloud of smoke right past Jawleyford's nose ; adding, " It's a 
 pity but you could get him four new legs." 
 
 " Faith, I don't see that ho wants anything of the sort,"
 
 124 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR, 
 
 retorted Jawleyford, nettled as well at the smoke as the observa- 
 tion. 
 
 "Well, where 'ignorance is bliss,' &c.," replied Sponge, with 
 another great puflF, which nearly blinded Jawleyford. " Get on, 
 and let's see how he goes," added he, passing on to the piebald as 
 he spoke. 
 
 j\Ir. Jawleyford then mounted ; and having settled himself into 
 a military seat, touched the old screw with the spui', and set off at 
 a canter. The piebald, perhaps mistaking the portico for a booth, 
 and thinking it was a good place to exhibit in, proceeded to die in 
 the most approved form ; and not all Sponge's " Come-up's " or 
 kicks could induce him to rise before he had gone through the 
 whole ceremony. At length, with a mane full of gravel, a side 
 well smeared, and a " "Wilkinson & Kidd " sadly scratched, the 
 ci-devant actor arose, much to the relief of the village lad, who 
 having indulged in a gallop as he brought him from Lucksford, 
 expected his death would be laid to his door. No sooner was he 
 up, than, without waiting for him to shake himself, Mr. Soapey 
 vaulted into the saddle, and seizing him by the head, let in the 
 Latchfords in a style that satisfied the hack he was not going to 
 canter in a circle. Away he went, best pace ; for like all Mr. 
 Sponge's horses, he had the knack of going, the general difficulty 
 being to get them to go the way they were wanted. 
 
 Sponge presently overtook ]Mr. Jawleyford, who had been 
 brought up by a gate, which he was making sundry ineffectual 
 Briggs-like passes and efforts to open ; the gate and his horse seem- 
 ing to have combined to prevent his getting through. Though 
 ail expert swordsman, he had never been able to accomplish, 
 the art of opening a gate, especially one of those gingerly-balanced 
 spring-snecked things that require to be taken at the nick of time, 
 or else they drop just as the horse gets his nose to them. 
 
 " Why arn't you here to open the gate ? " asked Jawleyford, 
 snappishly, as the blue boy bustled up as his master's efforts 
 became more hopeless at each attempt. 
 
 The lad, like a wise fellow, dropped from his horse, and opening 
 it with his hands, ran it back on foot. 
 
 Jawleyford and Sponge then rode through. 
 
 Canter, canter, canter, went Jawleyford, with an arm a-kimbo, 
 head well up, legs well down, toes well pointed, as if he were going 
 to a race, where his work would end on arriving, instead of to a 
 fox-hunt, where it would only begin. 
 
 " You arc rather hard on the old nag, arn't you ? " at length 
 asked Sponge, as, having cleared the rushy, swampy park, they 
 came upon the macadamised turnpike, and Jawleyford selected the 
 middle of it as the scene of his further progression. 
 
 *' Oh no ! " replied Jawleyford, tit-tup-ing along with a loose
 
 3ir.. SPONGE'S SPOETING TOUR. 125 
 
 rciD, as if he was on the soundest;, freshest-legged horse in the 
 world ; " oh no ! my hoi'scs arc used to it." 
 
 "Well, but if you mean to hunt him," observed Sponge, " he'll 
 be blown before he gets to cover." 
 
 " Get him in wind, my dear follow," rej)lied Jawleyford, "get 
 him in wind," touching the horse with the spur as he spoke. 
 
 " Faith, but if he was as well on his legs as he is in his wind, 
 he'd not be amiss," rejoined Sponge. 
 
 So they cantered and trotted, and trotted and cantered away, 
 Sponge thinking he could afl'ord pace as well as Jawleyford. 
 Indeed, a horse has only to become a hack, to be able to do double 
 the work he was ever supposed to be capable of. 
 
 But to the meet. 
 
 Scrambleford Green was a small straggling village on the top of 
 a somewhat high hill, that divided the vale in which Jawleyford 
 Court was situated, from the more fertile one of Farthinghoe, in 
 which Lord Scamperdale lived. 
 
 It was one of those out-of-the-way places at which the meet of 
 the hounds, and a love feast or fair, consisting of two fiddlers (one 
 for each public-house), a few unlicensed packmen, three or four 
 gingerbread stalls, a drove of cows and some sheep, form the great 
 events of the year, among a people who are thoroughly happy and 
 contented with that amount of gaiety. Think of that, you " used 
 up " young gentlemen of twenty, who have exhausted the pleasures 
 of the world ! The hounds did not come to Scrambleford Green 
 often, for it was not a favourite meet ; and when they did come. 
 Frosty and the men generally had them pretty much to themselves. 
 This day, however, was the exception ; and Old Tom Yarnley, 
 whom age had bent nearly double, and who hobbled along on two 
 sticks, declared, that never in the course of his recollection, a 
 period extending over the best part of a century, had he seen such a 
 "sight of red coats "as mustered that morning at Scrambleford 
 Green. It seemed as if there had been a sudden rising of sports- 
 men. What brought them all out ? What brought Mr. Puffington, 
 the master of the Hanby hounds, out ? What brought Blossom- 
 nose again ? What ]\Ir. Wake, Mr. Fossick, Mr. Fyle, who had 
 all been out the day before ? 
 
 Eeader, the news had spread throughout the country that there 
 was a great writer down ; and they wanted to see what he would 
 say of them — they had come to sit for their portraits, in fact. 
 There was a great gathering, at least for the Flat Hat Hunt, who 
 seldom mustered above a dozen. Tom Washball came, in a fine 
 new coat and new flat-fliped hat with a broad binding ; also Mr. 
 Sparks, of Spark Hall ; Major Mark ; Mr. Archer, of Cheam 
 Lodge ; Mr. Reeves, of Coxwell Green ; Mr. Bliss, of Boltonshaw ; 
 Mr. Joyce, of Ebstone ; Dr. Capon, of Calcot ; Mr. Dribble, of
 
 126 Mil. SPONGE'S SPOETING TOUR. 
 
 Hook ; Mr. Slade, of Thrcc-'HuiTOw Hill ; and several otlicrs. 
 Great Avas the astonishment of each as the other cast up. 
 
 " AVhy, here's Joe Reeves ! " exclaimed Blossomnose. " AVlio'd 
 have thought of seeing you ? " 
 
 "And who'd have thought of seeing yoz^.?" rejoined Reeves, 
 shaking hands with the jolly old nose. 
 
 " Here's Tom Washball in time for once, I declare ! " exclaimed 
 Mr. Fyle, as Mr. Washball cantered up in apple-pie order. 
 
 " Wonders will never cease ! " observed Fossick, looking Washy 
 over. 
 
 So the field sat in a ring about the hounds, in the centre of 
 which, as usual, were Jack and Lord Scamperdale, looking with 
 their great tortoise-shcll-rimmcd spectacles, and short grey whiskers 
 trimmed in a curve up to their noses, like a couple of horned owls 
 in hats. 
 
 " Here's the man on the cow ! " exclaimed Jack, as he espied 
 Sponge and Jawleyford rising the hill together, easing their horses 
 by standing in their stirrups and holding on by their manes. 
 
 " You don't say so ! " exclaimed Lord Scamperdale, turning his 
 horse in the direction Jack was looking, and staring for hard life 
 too. "So there is, I declare!" observed he. "And who the 
 deuce is this with him ? " 
 
 " That ass Jawleyford, as I live ! " exclaimed Jack, as the blue- 
 coated servant now hove in sight. 
 
 " So it is!" said Lord Scamperdale ; "the confounded hianln/r/!'' 
 
 " This boy'll be after one of the young ladies," observed Jack ; 
 " not one of the writing chaps we thought he was." 
 
 " Shouldn't wonder," replied Lord Scamperdale ; adding, in an 
 under tone, " I vote we have a rise out of old Jaw. I'll let you iu 
 for a good thing — you shall dine with him." 
 
 "Not I," repHed Jack. 
 
 "You shall, though," replied his lordship, firmly. 
 
 " Fraij don't ! " entreated Jack. 
 
 " By the powers, if you don't," rejoined his lordship, " you 
 shall not have a mount out of me for a month." 
 
 AVhile this conversation Avas going on, Jawleyford and Sponge 
 having risen the hill, had resumed their seats in the saddle, and 
 Jawleyford, setting himself in attitude, tickled his horse with his 
 spur, and proceeded to canter becomingly up to the pack ; Sponge 
 and the groom following a little behind. 
 
 " Ah, Jawleyford, my dear fellow !" exclaimed Lord Scamperdale, 
 putting his horse on a few steps to meet him as he came 
 flourishing up ; " Ah, Jawleyford, my dear fellow, I'm delighted 
 to see you," extending a hand as he spoke. " Jack, here, told me 
 that he saw your flag flying as he passed, and I said what a pity 
 it was but I'd known before ; for Jawleyford, said I, is a real good
 
 ME. SPONGE'S SPOTTING TOUR. 127 
 
 fellow, one of the lest fellows I know, and has aslccd me to dine so 
 often that I'm almost ashamed to meet him ; and it would have 
 been such a nice opportunity to have volunteered a visit, the 
 hounds being here, you see." 
 
 " Oh, that's so kind of your lordship ! " exclaimed Jawlejford, 
 quite delighted — " that's so kind of your lordship — that's just's 
 what I like ! — that's just what Mrs. Jawleyford likes ! — that's 
 just what we all like ! — coming without fuss or ceremony, just as 
 my friend Mr. Sponge, here, does. By-the-way, will your lordship 
 give me leave to introduce my friend Mr. Sponge — my Lord 
 Scamperdale." Jawleyford suiting the action to the word, and 
 manoeuvring the ceremony. 
 
 " Ah, I made Mr. Sponge's acquaintance yesterday," observed 
 his lordship drily, giving a sort of servants' touch of his hat as he 
 scrutinised our friend through his formidable glasses ; adding — 
 " To tell you the truth," addressing himself in an under tone to 
 Sponge, " I took you for one of those nasty writing chaps, who I 
 'bomiuate. But," continued his lordship, returning to Jawley- 
 ford, " I'll tell you what I said about the dinner. Jack, here, 
 told me the flag was flying ; and I said I only wish'd I'd known 
 before, and I would certainly have proposed that Jack and I 
 should dine with you, either to-day or to-morrow ; but unfor- 
 tunately I'd engaged myself to my Lord Barker's not five minutes 
 before." 
 
 " Ah, my lord ! " exclaimed Jawleyford, throwing out his hand 
 and shrugging his shoulders as if in despair, " you tantalise me — 
 you do indeed. You should have come, or said nothing about it. 
 You distress me — you do indeed." 
 
 " "Well, I'm wrong, perhaps," replied his lordship, patting 
 Jawleyford encouragingly on the shoulder ; " but however, I'll 
 tell you what," said he, " Jack here's not engaged, and he shall 
 come to you." 
 
 " Most happy to see Mr. — M — Jnun — haw — Jack — that's to 
 say, Mr. Spraggon," replied Jawleyford, bowing very low, and 
 laying his hand on his heart, as if quite overpowered at the idea 
 of the honour. 
 
 "Then, that's a bargain. Jack," said his lordship, looking 
 knowingly round at his much disconcerted friend ; " you dine and 
 stay all night at Jawleyford Court to-morrow ! and mind,'''' added 
 he, " make yourself 'greeable to the girls, — ladies that's to say." 
 
 " Couldn't your lordship arrange it so that we might have the 
 pleasure of seeing you both on some future day ? " asked Jawley- 
 ford, anxious to avert the Jack calamity. " Say next week," 
 continued he ; " or suppose you meet at the Court ? " 
 
 " Ha — he— hum. Meet at the Court," mumbled his lordship — 
 ^' meet at the Court — M— he— ha— hum — no ; — got no foxes."
 
 128 ME. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 " Plentij of foxes, I assure you, my lord ! " exclaimed Jawleyford. 
 " Plenty of foxes ! " repeated he. 
 
 "We never find tliem, then, somehow," observed his lordship, 
 drily ; " at least none but those three-legged beggars in the laurels 
 at the back of the stables." 
 
 " Ah ! that will be the fault of the hounds," replied Jawley- 
 ford ; "they don't take sufficient time to draw — run through the 
 covers too quickly." 
 
 " Fault of tlie hounds be hanged ! " exclaimed Jack, who was 
 the champion of the pack generally. '• There's not a more patient, 
 painstaking pack in the world than his lordship's." 
 
 " Ah — well — ah — never mind that," replied his lordship, " Jaw 
 and you can settle tliat point over your wine to-morrow ; mean- 
 while, if your friend Mr. What's-his-name here, '11 get his horse," 
 continued his lordship, addressing himself to Jawleyford, buh 
 looking at Sponge, who was still on the piebald, " we'll throw off." 
 
 " Thank you, my lord," replied Sponge ; " but I'll mount at the 
 cover side." Sponge not being inclined to let the Flat Hat Hunt 
 Field see the diiference of opinion that occasionally existed 
 between the gallant brown and himself. 
 
 " As you please," rejoined his lordship, " as you please," jerking 
 his head at Frosty face, who forthwith gave the office to the 
 hounds ; whereupon all was commotion. Away the cavalcade 
 went, and in less than five minutes t!ie late bustling village 
 resumed its wonted quiet ; the old man on sticks, two crones 
 gossiping at a door, a rag-or-anything-else-gatherer going about 
 with a donkey, and a parcel of dirty children tumbling about on 
 the gTcen, being all that remained on the scene. All the able- 
 bodied men had followed the hounds. Why the hounds had ever 
 climbed the long hill seemed a mystery, seeing that they returned 
 the way they came. 
 
 Jawleyford, though sore disconcerted at having " Jack " 
 pawned upon him, stuck to my lord, and rode on his right with 
 the air of a general. He felt he was doing his duty as an English- 
 man in thus patronising the hounds — encouraging a manly spirit 
 of independence, and promoting our unrivalled breed of horses. 
 The post-boy trot at which hounds travel, to be sure, is not well 
 adapted for dignity ; but Jawleyford flourished and vapoured as 
 well as he could under the circumstances, and considering they 
 were going down hill. Lord Scamperdale rode along, laughing in 
 his sleeve at the idea of the pleasant evening Jack and Jawleyford 
 would have together, occasionally complimenting Jawleyford on 
 the cut and condition of his horse, and advising him to be careful 
 of the switching raspers with which the country abounded, and 
 which might be fatal to his nice nutmeg-coloured trousers. The 
 rest of the " field " followed, the fall of the ground enabling them
 
 ME. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 12JJ 
 Old 
 
 to see " how thick Jawleyford was with my lord. ■" 
 Blossomnose, who, we should observe, had slipped 
 unperceived on Jawleyford's arrival, took a bird's-eye view 
 the rear. Naughty Blossom was riding the horse that ought to 
 Jiave gone in the " chay " to Jawleyford Court. 
 
 away 
 from 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 THE GREAT KUX. 
 
 ins LounsHii' has it all to himself. 
 
 Our hero having inveigled the brown under lee of an out- 
 house as the field moved along, was fortunate enough to achieve 
 the saddle without disclosing the secrets of the stable ; and as he 
 rejoined the throng in all the pride of shape, action, and con- 
 dition, even the top-sawyers. Fossick, Fyle, Bliss, and others, 
 admitted that Hercules was not a bad-like horse ; while the 
 humbler-minded ones eyed ►Si)ongc with a mixture of awe and 
 envy, thinking what a fine trade literature must be to stand such 
 a horse. 
 
 " Is your friend WhatVhis-name, a workman ? " asked Lord 
 Scamperdale, nodding towards Sponge as he trotted Hercules 
 gently past on the tarf by the side of the road along which they 
 Avere ridinir.
 
 130 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUB. 
 
 " Ob, no," replied Jawleyford, tartly. " Ob, no — gentleman , 
 man of property — " 
 
 " I did not mean was be a mccbanic," explained bis lordsbip 
 drily, " but a workman ; a good 'un across country, in fact." 
 His lordsbip working his arms as if be was going to set-to bimself. 
 
 *' Ob, a first-rate man \^jrst-rate man ! " replied Jawleyford ; 
 " beat tbem all at Laverick AVells." 
 
 " I tbongbt so," observed bis lordsbip ; adding to bimself, 
 " tben Jack sball take the conceit out of him." 
 
 " Jack ! " holloaed be over bis shoulder to bis friend, who was 
 jogging a little behind ; " Jaclc ! " repeated be, " that Mr. Some- 
 thing—" 
 
 " Sponge ! " observed Jawleyford, with an emphasis. 
 
 "That Mr. Sponge," continued his lordship, "is a stranger in 
 the country : have the kindness to take care of bim. You know 
 what I mean ? " 
 
 " Just so," replied Jack ; " I'll take care of bim." 
 
 " Most polite of your lordship, I'm sure," said Jawleyford, with 
 a low bow, and laying his band on his breast. " I can assure you 
 I shall never forget the marked attention I have received from 
 your lordsbip this day." 
 
 '' Thank you for nothing," grunted bis lordship to bimself. 
 
 Bump, bump ; trot, trot ; jabber, jabber, on they went as before. 
 
 They had now got to the cover. Tickler Gorse, and ere the last 
 horsemen bad reached the last angle of the long hill, Erostyface 
 was rolling about on foot in the luxuriant evergreen ; now wholly 
 visible, now all but overhead, like a man buflPeting among the waves 
 of the sea. Save Frosty's cheery voice encouraging the invisible 
 pack to "wind him ! " and " rout bim out ! " an injunction that 
 the shaking of the gorse showed they willingly obeyed, and an 
 occasional exclamation from Jawleyford, of " Beautiful ! beautiful ! 
 — never saw better bounds ! — can't be a finer pack ! " not a sound 
 disturbed the stillness of the scene. Tbe waggoners on the road 
 stopped their wains, tbe late noisy ploughmen leaned vacantly on 
 their stilts, the turnip-pullers stood erect in air, and the shepherds'' 
 boys deserted the bleating flocks ; — all was life and joy and liberty 
 — " Liberty, equality, and foxhunt-ity ! " 
 
 " Yo — i — chs, wind bim ! Y — o — o — iclcs ! rout him out ! "^ 
 went Frosty ; occasionally varying tbe entertainment with a loud 
 crack of bis heavy whip, when be could get upon a piece of rising 
 ground to clear the thong. 
 
 " Talhj-ho ! " screamed Jawleyford, hoisting tbe Bumperkin 
 Yeomanry cap in tbe air. " Tally-ho ! " repeated he, looking 
 triumphantly round, as much as to say, " What a clever boy 
 am I ! " 
 
 " Hold your noise ! " roared Jack, who was posted a little below.
 
 ME. SPONGE'S SFOETING TOUR. 131 
 
 *' Dou'fc you see it's a hare ? " added he, amidst the uproarious 
 mirth of the company. 
 
 *' I haven't your great staring specs on, or I should have seen 
 he hadn't a tail," retorted Jawlcyford, nettled at the tone in which 
 Jack had addressed him. 
 
 " Tail be ! " replied Jack, with a sneer ; " \Yho but a 
 
 tailor would call it a tail ? " 
 
 Just then a light low squeak of a whimper was heard in the 
 thickest part of the gorse, and Frostyface cheered the hound to 
 the echo. "Hoick to Pillager! H — o—o — iclc! '^ screamed he, 
 in a long-drawn note, that thrilled through every frame, and set 
 the horses a-capering. 
 
 Ere Frosty's prolonged screech was fairly finished, there was 
 such an outburst of melody, and such a shaking of the gorse- 
 bushes, as plainly showed there was no safety for Eeynard in 
 cover ; and great was the bustle and commotion among the horse- 
 men. Mr. Fossick lowered his hat-string and ran the fox's tooth 
 through the button-hole ; Fyle drew his girths ; Washball took a 
 long swig at his hunting horn-shaped monkey ; Major Mark and 
 Mr. Archer threw away their cigar ends ; ]\Ir. Bliss drew on his 
 dogskin gloves ; Mr. Wake rolled the thong of his whip round the 
 stick, to be better able to encounter his puller ; Mr. Sparks got a 
 yokel to take up a link of his curb ; George Smith and Joe Smith 
 looked at their watches ; Sandy McGregor, the factor, filled his 
 great Scotch nose with Irish snufT, exclaiming, as he dismissed the 
 balance from his fingers by a knock against his thigh, " Oh, my mon, 
 nw think this tod will gie us a ran ! " while Blossomnose might 
 be seen stealing gently forward, on the far side of a thick fence, for 
 the double purpose of shirking Jawleyford, and getting a good start. 
 
 In the midst of these and similar preparations for the fray, up 
 went a whip's cap at the lower end of tlic cover ; and a volley of 
 "Tallyhos" burst from our friends, as the fox, whisking his white- 
 tipped brush in the air, was seen stealing away over the grassy 
 hill beyond. AVhat a commotion was tlierc ! How pale some 
 looked ! How happy others ! 
 
 " Sing out, Jack ! for licavoi's sahn, sing out! " exclaimed Lord 
 Scamperdale ; an enthusiastic sportsman, always as eager for a run 
 as if he had never seen one. " Slug out, Jack ; or, by Jove, 
 they'll over-ride 'em at starting ! " 
 
 *' Hold hard, gentlemen," roared Jack, clapping spurs into his 
 grey, or rather into his lordship's grey, dashing in front, and draw- 
 ing the horse across the road to stop the progression of the field. 
 "Hold hard, one minute!'''' repeated Jack, standing erect in his 
 stirrups, and menacing them with his whip (a most formidable 
 one). " Whatever you do, pray let them get away ! Prag don't 
 spoil your own sport ! Pray remember they're his lordship's 
 
 K 2
 
 132 ME. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 liounds ! — that tliey cost him fivc-and-twcnty underd — two thou- 
 saad five underd a year I And where, let me ax, with wlieat down 
 to nothing, Avould you get another, if he was to throw up ? " 
 
 As Jack made this inquiry, he took a hurried glance at the now 
 pouring-out pack ; and seeing they were safe away, he wiped the 
 foam from his mouth on his sleeve, dropped into his saddle, and 
 cntching his horse short round by the head, clapped spurs into his 
 sides, and galloped away, exclaiming, 
 
 "Now, ye tinkers, tvell all start fair ! " 
 
 Then there was such a scrimmage ! such jostling and elbowing^ 
 among the jealous ones ; such ramming and cramming among the 
 eagcrones ; such pardon-begging among the polite ones ; such 
 spurting of ponies, such clambering of cart-horses ! All were bent 
 on going as far as they could — all except Jawleyford, who sat 
 curvetting and prancing in the patronising sort of way gentlemen 
 do who encourage hounds for the sake of the manly spirit the 
 sport engenders, and the advantage hunting is of in promoting 
 our unrivalled breed of horses. 
 
 His lordship having slipped away, horn in hand, under pretence 
 of blowing the hounds out of cover, as soon as he set Jack at the 
 field, had now got a good start, and, horse well in hand, was sail- 
 ing away in their wake. 
 
 " i^-o-o-r-r-fl;r^Z .'" screamed Frostyface, coming up alongside of 
 liim, holding his horse — a magnificent thoroughbred bay — well by 
 the head, and settling himself into his saddle as he went. 
 
 " F'O-r-rard ! " screeched his lordship, thrusting his spectacles 
 on to his nose. 
 
 " Tivang — twang — twang ^ went the huntsman's deep-sounding 
 horn. 
 
 " Tiveet — fiveet — Vwect,^^ went his lordship's shriller one. 
 
 " In for a stinger, my lurd," observed Jack, returning his horn 
 to the case. 
 
 " Hope so," replied his lordship, pocketing his. 
 
 They then flew the first fence together. 
 
 " F-o-r-r-ard ! " screamed Jack in the air, as he saw the hounds 
 packing well together, and racing with a breast-high scent. 
 
 " F-o-r-rard ! " screamed his lordship, who was a sort of echo to 
 his huntsman, just as Jack Spraggon was echo to his lordship. 
 
 " He's away for Gunnersby Craigs," observed Jack, pointing 
 that way, for they were good ten miles off. 
 
 " Hope so," replied his lordship, for whom the distance could 
 never be too great, provided the pace corresponded. 
 
 " F-o-o-r-rard ! " screamed Jack. 
 
 '' F-o-r-rard ! " screeched his lordship. 
 
 So they went flying and " forrarding " together ; none of the 
 field — thanks to Jack Spraggon — being able to overtake them.
 
 3in. SPONGE'S SPOllTIXG TOUR. 133 
 
 " Y-o-o-ndcr he .c^ocs ! " at Inst cried Frosty, taking olT his cnp 
 as he viewed the fox, some half-mile ahead, stealing away round 
 the side of Newington hill. 
 
 " Tallyho ! " screeched his lordship, riding with his flat hat ia 
 the air, by way of exciting the striving field to still farther 
 exertion. 
 
 " He's a good 'tin ! " exclaimed Frosty, eyeing the fox's going. 
 
 "He is that ! " replied his lordship, staring at him with all hig 
 might. 
 
 Then they rode on, and were presently rounding Newington 
 hill themselves, the hounds packing well together, aud carrying a 
 famous head. 
 
 His lordship now looked to see what was going on behind. 
 
 Scrambleford hill was far in the rear. Jawleyford and the boy 
 in blue were altogether lost in the distance. A quarter of a mile 
 or so this way ^vere a couple of dots of horsemen, one on a white, 
 the other on a dark colour — most likely Jones, the keeper, aud 
 Farmer Stubble, on the foaly marc. Then, a little nearer, was a 
 man in a liedge, trying to coax his horse after him, stopping tlie 
 way of two boys ia wliite trowsers, whoso ponies looked like rats. 
 Again, a little nearer, were some of the persevering ones — men 
 who still hold on in the forlorn hopes of a check — all dark-coated, 
 and mostly trousered. Then came the last of the red-coats — Tom 
 AVashball, Charley Joyce, and Sam Sloman, riding well in the 
 first flight of second horsemen — his lordship's p:id-groom, Mr. 
 Fossick's man in drab with a green collar, Mr. Wake's in blue, 
 also a lad in scarlet and a flat hat, with a second horse for the 
 huntsman. Drawing still nearer came the ruck — men in red, men 
 in brown, men in livery, a farmer or two in fustian, all mingled 
 together ; and a few hundred yards before these, and close upon 
 his lordship, were the elite of the field — five men in scarlet and 
 one in black. Let us see who they are. By the powers, Mr. 
 Sponge is first ! — Sponge sailing away at his ease, followed by 
 Jack, who is staring at him through his great lamps, longing to 
 launch out at him, but as yet wanting an excuse ; Sponge having 
 ridden with judgment — judgment, at least, in everything except 
 in having taken the lead of Jack. After Jack comes old black- 
 booted Blossomnosc ; and Messrs. Wake, Fossick, and Fyle, 
 complete our complement of five. They are all riding steadily 
 and well ; all very irate, however, at the stranger for going 
 before them, and ready to back Jack in anything he may say 
 or do. 
 
 On, on they go ; the hounds still pressing forward, though not 
 carrying quite so good a head as before. In truth, they have run 
 four miles in twenty minutes ; pretty good going anvwhcre except 
 upon paper, where they always go unnaturally fast. However, there
 
 134 ME. SPONGE'S SPOUTING TOUll. 
 
 they are, still pressing on, though with considerably less music 
 than before. 
 
 After rounding Newington Hill, they got into a -wilder and 
 worse sort of country, among moorish, ill-cultivated land, with 
 cold unwholesome-looking fallows. The day, too, seemed changing 
 for the worse ; a heavy black cloud hanging overhead. The 
 hounds were at length brought to their noses. 
 
 His lordship, who had been riding all eyes, ears, and fears, fore- 
 saw the probability of this ; and pulling-to his horse, held up his 
 hand, the usual signal for Jack to " sing out " and stop the field. 
 Sponge saw the signal, but, unfortunately, Hercules didn't ; and 
 tearing along with his head to the ground, resolutely bore our 
 friend not only past his lordship, but right on to where the now 
 stooping pack were barely feathering on the line. 
 
 Then Jack and his lordship sung out together. 
 
 ^^ Hold hard!'''' screeched his lordship, in a dreadful state of 
 excitement. 
 
 *' Hold hard ! " thundered Jack. 
 
 Sponge icas holding hard — hard enough to split the horse's 
 jaws, but the beast would go on, notwithstanding. 
 
 " By the powers, he's among 'em again ! " shouted his lordship, 
 as the resolute beast, with his upturned head almost pulled round 
 to Sponge's knee, went star-gazing on like the blind man in 
 Regent Street. " Sing out., Jack ! sing out ! for heaven's sake 
 sing out," shrieked his lordship, shutting his eyes, as he added, 
 " or he'll kill every man Jack of them." 
 
 " Now, SuR ! " roared Jack, " can't you steer that ere aggra- 
 vatin' quadruped of yours ? " 
 
 " Oh, you pestilential son of a pontry-maid ! " screeched his 
 lordship, as Brilliant ran yelping away from under Sponge's horse's 
 feet. " S'iinj out Jaclc ! sing out ! " gasped his lordship again. 
 
 " Oh, you scandalous, hypocritical, rusty-booted, numb-handed 
 son of a puffing corn-cutter, why don't you turn your attention to 
 feeding hens, cultivating cabbages, or making pantaloons for 
 small folks, instead of killing hounds in this wholesale way ? " 
 roared Jack ; an enquiry that set him foaming again. 
 
 " Ob, you unsighty, sanctified, idolatrous, Bagnigge - Wells 
 coppersmith, you think because I'm a lord, and can't swear 
 or use coarse language, that you may do what you like ; rot 
 you, sir, I'll present you with a testimonial ! I'll settle a 
 hundred a-year upon you if you'll quit the country. Bij 
 the poivers, they're away again ! " added his lordshi]), who, with 
 one eye on Sponge and the other on the pack, had been watching 
 Frosty lifting them over the bad scenting-ground, till, holding 
 them on to a hedgerow beyond, they struck the scent on good 
 sound pasture, and went away at score, every hound throwing his
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SFOBTING TOUR. 135 
 
 tongue, and filling the air with joyful melody. Away they swept 
 like a hurricane. " F-o-o-rard ! " was again the cry. 
 
 " Hang it, Jack," exclaimed Lord Scamperdale, laying his 
 hand on his double's shoulder, as they galloped alongside of each 
 other — " Hang it. Jack, see if you can't sarve out this unrighteous, 
 mahogany-booted, rattlesnake. Do if you die for it I — I'll bury 
 your remainders genteelly — patent coffin with brass nails, all to 
 yourself — put Frosty and all the fellows in black, and raise a 
 white marble monument to your memory, declaring you were the 
 most spotless virtuous man under the sun." 
 
 "Let me off dinmg with Jaw, and Fll do my best," replied Jack. 
 
 " I)o?ie / " screamed his lordship, flourishing his right arm in 
 the air, as he flew over a great stone wall. 
 
 A good many of the horses and sportsmen too had had enough 
 before the hounds checked ; and the quick way Frosty lifted them 
 and hit off the scent, did not give them much time to recruit. Many 
 of them now sat, hat in hand, mopping, and puffing, and turning 
 their red perspiring faces to the wind. " Poough,''' gasped one, as if 
 he was going to be sick ; " Puff," went another ; " Oh ! but its 
 'ot ! " exclaimed a third, pulling off his limp neckcloth ; " Wonder 
 if there's any ale hereabouts," cried a fourth ; " Terrilile run ! " 
 observed a fifth ; " Ten miles at least," gasped another. Mean- 
 while the hounds went streaming on ; and it is wonderful how 
 soon those who don't follow are left hopelessly in the rear. 
 
 Of the few that did follow, Mr. Sponge, however, was one. 
 Nothing daunted by the compliments that had been paid him, he 
 got Hercules well in hand ; and the horse dropping again on the 
 bit, resumed his place in front, going as strong and steadily as 
 ever. Thus he went, throwing the mud in the faces of those 
 behind, regardless of the oaths and imprecations that followed ; 
 Sponge knowing full well they would do the same by him if they 
 could. 
 
 " All jealousy," said Sponge, spurring his horse. " Never saw 
 such a jealous set of dogs in my life." 
 
 An accommodating lane soon presented itself, along which they 
 all pounded, with the hounds running parallel through the 
 enclosures on the left ; Sponge sending such volleys of pebbles 
 and mud in his rear as made it advisable to keep a good way 
 behind him. The line was now apparently for Firlingham 
 Woods ; but on nearing the thatched cottage on Gaspar Heath, 
 the fox, most likely being headed, had turned short to the right ; 
 and the chase now lay over Sheeplow Water meadows, and bo on 
 to Bolsover brick-fields, when the pack again changed from 
 hunting to racing, and the pace for a time was severe. His lord- 
 ship having got his second horse at the turn, was ready for the 
 tussle, and plied away vigorously, riding, as usual, with all his
 
 13G 3IE. SPONGE'S SPOTTING TOUR. 
 
 heart, with all his mind, with all his soul, and with all hia' 
 strength ; while Jack, still on the grey, came plodding diligently 
 along in the rear, saving his horse as much as he could. His 
 lordship charged a stiff flight of rails in the brick-fields ; while 
 Jack, thinking to save his, rode at a weak place in the fence, a 
 little higher up, and in an instant was souse overhead in a 
 clay-hole. 
 
 " Duclcimder, Jach ! ducic under!" screamed his lordship, as- 
 Jack's head rose to the surface. " Biicic mider! youHl have it fall 
 directly ! " added he, eyeing Sponge and the rest coming up. 
 
 Sponge, however, saw the splash, and turning a little lower 
 down, landed safe on sound ground ; while poor BlossomnosCy 
 who was next, went floundering overhead also. But the pace was- 
 too good to stop to fish them out. 
 
 "Dash it," said Sponge, looking at them splashing about, "but 
 that Avas a near go for me ! " 
 
 Jack being thus disposed of, Sponge, with increased confidence, 
 rose in his stirrups, easing the redoubtable Hercules ; and patting 
 him on the shoulder, at the same time that he gave him the 
 gentlest possible touch of the spur, exclaimed, "By the powers, 
 we'll show these old Flat Hats the trick ! " He then commenced 
 humming — 
 
 Mister Sponge, the raspers tnkinf^, 
 Sets the jankers' nerves a shaking ; — 
 
 and riding cheerfully on, he at length found himself on the confines 
 of a wild, rough-looking moor, with an undulating range of hills 
 in the distance. 
 
 Frostyface and Lord Scamperdalc here for the first time diverged 
 from the line the hounds were running, and made for the neck of 
 a smooth, flat, rather inviting-looking piece of ground, instead of 
 crossing it, Sponge, thinking to get a niche, rode to it ; and the 
 "deeper and deeper still " sort of flounder his horse made soon let 
 him know that he was in a bog. The impetuous Hercules rushed 
 and reared onwards as if to clear the wide expanse ; and alighting- 
 still lower, shot Sponge right overhead in the middle. 
 
 " ThaVs cooked your goose ! " exclaimed his lordship, eyeing- 
 Sponge and his horse floundering about iu the black porridge-lika 
 mess. 
 
 "Catch my horse !" hallooed Sponge to the first whip, who canio 
 galloi^ing up as Hercules was breasting his Avay out again. 
 
 "Catch him yourself," grunted the man, galloping on. 
 
 A peat-cutter, more humane, received the horse as he emerged 
 from the black sea, exclaiming, as the now-picbald Sponge came 
 lobbing after on foot, "A, sir ! but ye should nivcr set tee to ride 
 through sic a place as that ! "
 
 ME. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 137 
 
 Sponge having generously rewarded the man with a fourpcnny 
 piece, for catching liis horse and scraping the thick of the mud off 
 him, again mounted, and cantered round the point he should at 
 first have gone; but his chance was out — the further he went, the 
 further he was left behind ; till at last, pulling up, he stood 
 watching the diminishing pack, rolling like marbles over the to]> 
 of Botherjade Hill, followed by his lordship hugging his horse 
 round the neck as he went, and the huntsman and whips leading 
 and driving theirs up before them. 
 
 " Nasty jealous old beggar ! " said Sponge, eyeing his lessening 
 lordship disappearing over the hill too. Sp(jnge then performed 
 the sickening ceremony of turning away from hounds running ; 
 not but that he might have plodded on on the line, and perhaps 
 seen or heard what became of the fox, but Sponge didn't hunt on 
 those terms. Ijike a good many other gentlemen, he would be 
 first, or nowhere. 
 
 If it was any consolation to him, he had plenty of companions- 
 in misfortune. The line was dotted with horsemen back to the 
 brick-fields. The first person he overtook wending his way home- 
 in the discontented, moody humour of a thrown-out man, was Mr. 
 Puffington, master of the Hanby hounds ; at whose appearance at 
 the meet we expressed our surprise. 
 
 Neighbouring masters of hounds are often more or less jealous 
 of each other. No man in the master-ot'-hound world is too 
 insignificant for censure. Lord Scamperdale teas an undoubted 
 sportsman ; while poor Mr. Pufiington thought of nothing but 
 how to be thought one. Hearing the mistaken rumour that a 
 great writer was down, he thought that his chance of immortality 
 was arrived ; and ordering his best horse, and putting on his best 
 apparel, had braved the jibes and sneers of Jack and his lordship 
 for the purpose of scraping acquaintance with the stranger. lu 
 that he had been foiled : there was no time at the meet to get 
 introduced, neither could he get jostled beside Sponge in going 
 down to the cover ; Avhile the quick fiud, the quick get away, 
 followed by the quick thing we have described, were equally 
 unfavourable to the undertaking. Nevertheless, Mr. Puffington 
 had held on beyond the brick-fields ; and had he but persevered a 
 little further, he would have had the satisfliction of helping Mr, 
 Sponge out of the bog. 
 
 Sponge now, seeing a red coat a little before, trotted on, and 
 quickly overtook a fine nippy, satin-stocked, dandified looking 
 gentleman, with marvellously smart leathers and boots— a great 
 contrast to the large, roomy, bargeman-like costume of the 
 members of the Flat Hat Hunt. 
 
 "You're not hurt, I hope ?" exclaimed Mr. Puffington, with wcll- 
 fcigned anxiety, as he looked at Mr. Sponge's black-daubed clothes.
 
 138 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 " Oh no ! " replied Sponge. " Oh no !— fell soft— fell soft. 
 More dirt, less hurt — more dirt, less hurt." 
 
 " Why you've been in a bog ! " exclaimed Mr. Puffington, eyeing 
 the much-stained Hercules. 
 
 " Almost over head," replied Sponge. " Scamperdale saw me 
 going, and hadn't the grace to holloa." 
 
 "Ah, that's like him," replied Mr. Puffington,— " that's like 
 Lim, there's nothing pleases him so much as getting fellows into 
 grief." 
 
 " Not very polite to a stranger," observed Mr. Sponge, 
 
 " No, it isn't," replied Mr. Puffington, — " no, it isn't ; far from 
 it indeed — far from it ; but, low be it spoken," added he, " his 
 lordship is only a roughish sort of customer." 
 
 " So he is," replied Mr. Sponge, who thought it fine to abuse a 
 nobleman. 
 
 " The fact is," said Mr. Puffington, " these Flat Hat chaps arc 
 all snobs. They think there are no such fine fellows as themselves 
 under the sun ; and if ever a stranger looks near them, they make 
 a point of being as rude and disagreeable to him as they possibly 
 can. This is what they call keeping the hunt select." 
 
 " Indeed ! " observed Mr. Sponge, recollecting how they had 
 complimented him ; adding, " They seem a queer set." 
 
 " There's a fellow they call * Jack,' " observed Mr. Puffington, 
 " who acts as a sort of bulldog to his lordship, and worries whoever 
 his lordship sets him upon. He got into a clay-hole a little further 
 back, and a precious splashing he was making, along with the 
 chaplain, old Blossomnose." 
 
 "Ah, I saw him," observed Mr. Sponge. 
 
 " You should come and see mij hounds," observed Mr. 
 Puffington. 
 
 " What are they ? " asked Sponge. 
 
 " The Hanby," replied Mr. Puffington. 
 
 " Oh ! then you are Mr. Puffington," observed Sponge, who had 
 a sort of general acquaintance with ail the hounds and masters — 
 indeed, with all the meets of all the hounds in the kingdom — which 
 he read in the weekly lists in "Bell's Life," just as he read 
 "Mogg's Cab Fares." " Then you are Mr. Puffington ? " observed 
 Sponge. 
 
 " The same," replied the stranger. 
 
 "I'll have a look at you," observed Sponge ; adding, "Do you 
 take in horses ? " 
 
 " Yours, of course," replied Mr. Puffington, bowing ; adding 
 something about great public characters, which Sponge didn't 
 understand, 
 
 " I'll be down upon you, as the extinguisher said to the 
 rushlight," observed Mr. Sponge.
 
 3IE. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUB. 139 
 
 *^Do,''^ said Mr. PufBngton ; "come before the frost. Where are 
 you staying now ? " 
 
 " I'm at Jawleyford's," replied our friend. 
 
 "Indeed! — Jawleyford's, are you?" repeated Mr. Paffington. 
 " Good fellow, Jawleyford — gentleman, Jawleyford. How long do 
 you stay ? " 
 
 " Why, I haven't made up my mind," replied Sponge. " Have 
 no thoughts of budging at present." 
 
 " Ah, well — good quarters," said Mr. Puffington, who now smelt 
 a rat ; " good quarters — nice girls — fine fortune — fine place, 
 Jawleyford Court. AVell, book me for the next visit," added he. 
 
 "I will," said Sponge, "and no mistake. What do they call 
 your shop ? " 
 
 " Hanby House," replied Mr. Puffington ; "Hanby House — any 
 body can tell you where Hanby House is." 
 
 *• I'll not forget," said Mr. Sponge, booking it in his mind, and 
 eyeing his victim. 
 
 " I'll show you a fine pack of hounds," said Mr. Puffington ; 
 **far finer animals than those of old Scamperdale's — steady, true 
 hunting hounds, that won't go a yard without a scent — none of 
 your jealous, flashy, frantic devils, that will tear over half a toAvn- 
 ehip without one, and arc always looking out for ' holloas ' and 
 assistance " 
 
 Mr. Puffington was intcrrnptcd in the comparison he was abont 
 to draw between his lordship's hounds and his, by arriving at the 
 Bolsovcr brickfields, and seeing Jack and Blossomnose, horse in 
 hand, running to and fro, while sundry countrymen blobbed 
 about in the clay-hole they had so recently occupied. Tom 
 Washball, Mr. Wake, Mr. Fyle, Mr. Fossick, and several dark- 
 coated horsemen and boys, were congregated around. Jack had 
 lost his spectacles, and Blossomnose his whip, and the countrymen 
 were diving for them. 
 
 " Xot hurt, I hope?" said Mr. Puffington, in the most dandified 
 tone of indifference, as he rode up to where Jack and Blossomnose 
 were churning the water in their boots, stamping up and down, 
 trying to get themselves warm. 
 
 " Hurt be hanged ! " replied Jack, who had a frightful squint, 
 that turned his eyes inside out when he was in a passion : " Hurt 
 be hanged ! " said he ; " might have been drowned, for anything 
 you'd have cared." 
 
 " I should have been sorry for that," replied Mr. Puffington ; 
 adding, " The Flat Hat Hunt could ill afTord to lose so useful and 
 ornamental a member." 
 
 " I don't know what the Flat Hat Hunt can afford to lose," 
 spluttered Jack, who hadn't got all the clay out of his mouth ; 
 ^'but I know they can afford to do without the company of certain
 
 140 
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 jjentleincn who shall be nameless," said he, lookino; at Sponge and 
 Puffinn^ton as he thouj^ht, but in reality showing nothing but the 
 whites of his eyes. 
 
 " 1 told you so," said Paffington, jerking his head towards Jack, 
 as Sponge and he turned their horses' heads to ride away ; " I told 
 you so," repeated he ; " that's a specimen of their style ; " adding,. 
 " they are the greatest set of ruffians under the sun." 
 
 The new acquaintances then jogged on together as far as the 
 cross roads at Stewley, W'hen Puffingtou, having bound Sponge in 
 his own recognisance to come to him when he left Jawleyford 
 Court, pointed him out his way, and with a most hearty shake of 
 the hands the new-made friends parted. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 LOPtD SCAMPERDALE AT HO.^IE. 
 
 V^ 
 
 HII.VER-MOUNTED SPECTACLES 
 
 E fear our fair friends 
 will expect something* 
 gay from the above 
 heading — lamps and 
 flambeaux outside, 
 fiddlers, feathers, and 
 flirters in. Nothing of 
 the sort, fair ladies — 
 nothing of the sorb. 
 Lord Scaraperdalc "ati 
 home," simply means 
 that his lordship was. 
 not out hunting, that 
 he had got his dirty 
 boots and breeches ofl", 
 and dry tweeds and 
 tartans on. 
 
 Lord Scampcrdalo 
 
 to the usual alternating 
 
 generation living and tho 
 
 Avas the eighth earl ; and, according 
 course of great English families — one 
 next starving — it was his lordship's turn to live; but the seventh 
 earl having been rather unreasonable in the length of his lease, 
 the present earl, who during the lifetime of his father was Lord 
 Hardup, had contracted such parsimonious habits, that uhen he 
 came into possession he could not shake them off; and but for the 
 fortunate friendship) of Abraham Brown, the village blacksmith^
 
 ME. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUP. 141 
 
 who had given his young idea a sporting turn, entering him with 
 ferrets and rabbits, and so training him on with terriers and rat- 
 catching, badger-baiting and otter-hunting, up to the noble sport 
 ■of fox-hunting itself, in all probability his lordship would have 
 been a regular miser. As it was, he did not spend a halfpenny 
 upon anything but hunting ; and his hunting, though well, was 
 ■still economically done, costing him some couple of thousand 
 ii-year, to which, for the sake of euphony. Jack used to add an 
 «xtra five hundred ; " two thousand five underd a year, five-and- 
 twenty underd a year," sounding better, as Jack thought, and 
 more imposing, than a couple of thousand, or two thousand, 
 i\-year. There were few days on which Jack didn't inform the 
 field what the hounds cost his lordship, or rather what they 
 didn't cost him. 
 
 Woodmansterne, his lordship's principal residence, was a fine 
 place. It stood in an undulating park of 800 acres, with its 
 church, and its lakes, and its heronry, and its decoy, and its race- 
 course, and its varied grasses of the choicest kinds, for feeding the 
 numerous herds of deer, so well known at Temple Bar and Charing- 
 cross as the Woodmansterne venison. The house was a modern 
 edifice, built by the sixth earl, who, having been a " liver," had 
 run himself aground by his enormous outlay on this Italian 
 fitructure, which was just finished when he died. The fourth earl, 
 who, we should have stated, was a " liver " too, was a man of 
 /vertii — a great traveller and collector of coins, pictures, statues, 
 marbles, and curiosities generally — things that are very dear to 
 'buy, but oftentimes extremely cheap when sold ; and, having 
 collected a vast quantity from all parts of the world (no easy feat 
 in those days), he made them heirlooms, and de])arted this life, 
 leaving the next earl the pleasure of contemplating them. The 
 fifth carl having duly starved through life, then made way for the 
 •sixth ; who, finding such a quantity of valuables stowed away as 
 he thought in rather a confined way, sent to London for a first- 
 rate architect. Sir Thomas Squareall (who always posted with four 
 horses), who forthwith pulled down the old brick-and-stone 
 Elizabethan mansion, and built the present splendid Italian 
 structure, of the finest polished stone, at an expense of — furniture 
 and all — say 120,0007. ; Sir Thomas's estimates being 30,000?. 
 The seventh earl of course they starved ; and the present lord, afc 
 the age of forty-three, found himself in possession of house, and 
 coins, and curiosities ; and, best of all, of some 90,0007. in the 
 funds, which had quietly rolled up during the latter part of his 
 A'cncrable parent's existence. His lordship then took counsel with 
 himself — first, whether he should marry or remain single ; 
 eecondly, whether he should live or star'ce. Having considered 
 ..the subject with all the attention a limited allowance of brains
 
 142 3IE, SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUE. 
 
 permitted, he came to the resolution that the second i^ropositioTi 
 depended a good deal upon the first ; " for," said he to himself, 
 " if I marry, my lady, perhaps, may malce me live ; and therefore," 
 said he, '"perhaps I'd. better remain single." At all events, he 
 came to the determination not to marry in a hurry ; and until he 
 did, he felt there was no occasion for him to inconvenience him- 
 self by living. So he had the house put away in brown Holland, 
 the carpets rolled up, the pictures covered, the statues shrouded 
 in muslin, the cabinets of curiosities locked, the plate secured, the 
 china closeted, and everything arranged with the greatest care 
 against the time, which he put before him in the distance like a 
 target, when he should marry and begin to live. 
 
 At first he gave two or three great dinners a-year, about the 
 height of the fruit season, and when it was getting too ripe for 
 carriage to London by the old coaches — when a grand airing of the 
 state-rooms used to take place, and ladies from all parts of the 
 county used to sit shivering with their bare shoulders, all anxious 
 for the honours of the head of the table. His lordship always 
 held out that he was a marrying man ; but even if he hadn't they 
 would have come all the same, an unmarried man being always 
 clearly on the cards : and. though he was stumpy, and clumsy, and 
 ugly, with as little to say for himself as could well be conceived, 
 they all agreed that he was a most engaging, attractive man — ■ 
 quite a pattern of a man. Even on horseback, and in his hunting 
 clothes, in which he looked far the best, he was only a coarse, 
 square, bull-headed looking man, with hard, dry, round, matter- 
 of-fact features, that never look young, and yet somehow never 
 get old. Indeed, barring the change from brown to grey of his 
 short stubby whiskers, which he trained with great care into a 
 curve almost on to his cheek-bone, he looked very little older at the 
 period of which we are writing than he did a dozen years before, 
 when he was Lord Hardup. These dozen years, however, had 
 brought him down in his doings. 
 
 The dinners had gradually dwindled away altogether, and he 
 had had all the large tablecloths and napkins rough dried and 
 locked away against he got married ; an event that he seemed 
 more anxious to provide for the more unhkely it became. He had 
 also abdicated the main body of the mansion, and taken up his 
 quarters in what used to be the steward's room ; into which he 
 could creep quietly by a side door opening from the outer 
 entrance, and so save frequent exposure to the cold and damp of 
 the large cathedral-like hall beyond. Through the steward's 
 room, was what used to be the muniment room, which he con- 
 verted into a bed-room for himself ; and a little further along the 
 passage was another small chamber, made out of what used to be 
 the plate-room, whereof Jack, or whoever was in office, had the
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPOETING TOUR. 143 
 
 possession. All three rooms were furnished in the roughest, 
 coarsest, homeliest way — his lordship wishing to keep all the good 
 furniture against he got married. The sitting-room, or parlour as 
 his lordship called it, had an old grey drugget for a carpet, an old 
 round black mahogany table on castors, that the last steward had 
 ejected as too bad for him, four semicircular wooden-bottomed 
 walnut smoking-chairs ; an old spindle-shanked sideboard, with 
 very little middle, over which swung a few book-shelves, with the 
 termination of their green strings surmounted by a couple of 
 foxes' brushes. Small as the shelves Averc, they were larger than 
 his lordship wanted — two books, one for Jack and one for himself, 
 being all they contained ; while the other shelves were filled with 
 hunting-horns, odd spurs, knots of whipcord, piles of halfpence, 
 lucifer match-boxes, gun-charges, and such like miscellaneous 
 articles. 
 
 His lordship's fare was as rough as his furniture. He was a 
 great admirer of tripe, cow-heel, and delicacies of that kind ; he 
 had tripe twice a-week — boiled one day, fried another. He was 
 also a great patron of beefsteaks, which he ate half raw, with 
 slices of cold onion served in a saucer with water. 
 
 It was a beefsteak-and-batter-pudding day on which the fore- 
 going run took place ; and his lordship and Jack having satisfied 
 nature off their respective dishes — for they only had vegetables in 
 common — and having finished off with some very strong Cheshire 
 cheese, wheeled their chairs to the fire, while Bags the butler 
 cleared the table and placed it between them. They were dressed 
 in full suits of flaming large-checked red-and-yellow tartans, the 
 tartan of that noble clan the " Stunners," with black-and-white 
 Shetland hose and red slippers. His lordship and Jack had 
 related their mutual adventures by cross visits to each other's 
 bedrooms while dressing ; and, dinner being announced by the 
 time they were ready, they had fallen to, and applied themselves 
 diligently to the victuals, and now very considerately unbuttoned 
 their many-pocketed waistcoats and stuck out their legs, to give it 
 a fair chance of digesting. They seldom spoke much until his 
 lordship had had his nap, which he generally took immediately 
 after dinner ; but on this particular night he sat bending forward 
 in his chair, picking his teeth and looking at his toes, evidently 
 ill at ease in his mind. Jack guessed the cause, but didn't say 
 anything. Sponge, he thought, had beat him. 
 
 At length his lordship threw himself back in his chair, and 
 stretching his little queer legs out before him, began to breathe 
 thicker and thicker, till at last he got the melody up to a grunt. 
 It was not the fine generous snore of a sleep that he usually 
 enjoyed, but, short, fitful, broken naps, that generally terminated 
 in spasmodic jerks of the arms or legs. These grew worse, till at
 
 144 
 
 ME. ,^PONGE\S SPORTING TOUB. 
 
 last all four went at once, like the limbs of a Peter Waggey, 
 when, throwing himself forward with a violent eifort, he awoke ; 
 and finding his horse was not a-top of him, as he thought, he gave 
 vent to his feelings in the following ejaculations : — 
 
 " Oh, Jack, I'm onhappy ! " exclaimed ho. " I'm distressed ! " 
 
 HIS LORDSHIP AND JACK. 
 
 continued he. " I'm icretcJted ! " added he, slapping his knees. 
 "i'??i im-fedhj miseraMe ! '''' he concluded, with a strong emphasis 
 on the " miserable." 
 
 " What's the matter ?" asked Jack, who was half asleep himself. 
 
 "Oh, that Mister Something !— he'll be the death of me!" 
 observed his lordship. 
 
 "I thought so," replied Jack : "what's the chap been after now?" 
 
 " I dreamt he'd killed old Lablache — best hound I have," replied 
 his lordship.
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 145 
 
 " He be ," grnntcd Jack. 
 
 "Ah, it's all very well for yon to say ' he be this ' and 'he be 
 that,' but I can tell you what, that fellow is going to be a very 
 awkward customer — a terrible thorn in my side." 
 
 '• Humph ! " grunted Jack, who didn't see how. 
 
 " There's mischief about that fellow," continued his lordship, 
 pouring himself out half a tumbler of gin, and filling it up with 
 water. "There's mischief about the fellow. I don't like his looks 
 — I don't like his coat — I don't like his boots — I don't like any- 
 thing about him. I'd ratlier see the back of him than the front. 
 lie must be got rid of," added his lordship. 
 
 "Well, I did my best to-day, I'm sure," re])lied Jack. "I was 
 deuced near wanting the patent colli n you were so good as to 
 promise me." 
 
 " You did your work ?r^//," replied his lordship ; "you did your 
 work well ; and you shall have my otlier specs till I can get you a 
 new pair from town ; and if you'll serve me again, I'll remember 
 you in my will — I'll leave you something handsome." 
 
 " I'm your man," replied Jack. 
 
 " I never was so bothered with a fellow in ray life," observed 
 his lordship. "Captain Topsawyer was bad enough, and always 
 pressed far too close on the hounds, but he would pull up at a 
 check ; but this rusty booted 'bomination seems to think the 
 hounds are kept for him to ride over. He must be got rid of 
 somehow," repeated his lordship ; " for we shall have no peace while 
 he's here." 
 
 " If he's after either of the Jawley girls, he'll be bad to shake 
 off," observed Jack, 
 
 "That's just the point," replied his lordship, quaffing off his 
 giu with the air of a man most thoroughly thirsty; "that's 
 just the point," repeated he, setting down his tumbler. " I think 
 if he is, I could cook his goose for him." 
 
 " How so ? " asked Jack, drinking off his glass. 
 
 "Why, I'll tell you," replied his lordshi]i, replenishing his 
 tumbler, and passing the old gilt-labelled blue bottle over to 
 Jack ; "you see, Frosty 's a cunning old file, picks up all the news 
 and gossip of the country when he's out at exercise with the 
 hounds, or in going to cover — knows everything ! — who licks his 
 wife, and whose wife licks him — who's after such a girl, and so on ; 
 — and he's found out somehow that this Mi. AVhat's-his-name 
 isn't the man of metal he's passing for." 
 
 " Indeed," exclaimed Jack, raising his eyebrows, and squinting 
 his eyes inside out ; Jack's opinion of a man being entirely regu- 
 lated by his purse. 
 
 " It's a fiict," said his lordship, with a knowing shake ot his 
 head. " As we were toddling home with the hounds, I said to
 
 146 ME. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 Frosty, ' I hope that Mr. Something's conifortahle in his bntli' — 
 meaning Gobblecow Bog, which he rode into. ' Why,' said Frosty, 
 ' it's no great odds what comes of such rubbage as that.' Now, 
 Frosty, you know, in a general way, is a most poHte, fairspoken 
 man, specially before Christmas, when he begins to look for 
 the tips ; and as we arc not much troubled with strangers, thanks 
 to your sensible way of handling them, I thought Frosty would 
 have made the most of this natural son of Dives, and been as 
 polite to him as possible. However, he was evidently no favourite 
 of Frosty's. So I just asked — not that oue likes to be familiar 
 with servants, you know, but still this brown-booted beggar is 
 enough to excite one's curiosity and make any one go out of one's 
 way a little, — so I just asked Frosty what he knew about him. 
 ' All over the left,' said Frosty, jei'king his thumb back over his 
 shoulder, and looking as kuowinfr as a goose with one eye ; 'all 
 over the left,' repeated he. ' What's over the left ? ' said I. 
 ' Why, this Mr. Sponge,' said he. ' Plow so ? ' asked I. 'Why,' 
 said Frosty, ' he's come gammonin' down here tliat he's a great 
 man — full of money, and horses, and so on ; but it's all my eye, 
 he's no more a great man than I am.' " 
 
 " The deuce ! " exclaimed Jack, who had sat squinting and 
 listening intently as his lordship proceeded, "Well, now, hang 
 me, I thought he was a snob the moment I saw him," continued 
 he ; Jack being one of those clever gentlemen who know every- 
 thing after they are told. 
 
 " ' Well, how do you know, Jack ? ' said I to Frosty. ' Oh I 
 Jcnou's,^ replied he, as if he was certain about it. However, I 
 wasn't satisfied without knowing too ; and, as we kept jogging on, 
 we came to the old Coach and Horses, and I said to Jack, ' We 
 may as well have a drop of something to warm us.' So we halted, 
 and had glasses of brandy apiece, whips and all ; and theu, as we 
 jogged on again, I just said to Jack, casually, ' Did you say it 
 was Mr, Blossomnose told you about old Brown Boots ? ' 'iVo — 
 Blossomnose — 710,'' replied he, as if Blossom never had anything half 
 so good to tell ; 'it was a young woman,' said he, in an undertone, 
 ' who told me, and she had it from old Brown Boots's groom.' " 
 
 " Well, that's ffood, observed Jack, diving his hands into the veiy 
 bottom of his great tartan trouser pockets, and shooting his legs 
 out before him ; " Well, that's good,'''' repeated he, falling into a 
 sort of reverie. 
 
 " AVell, but what can we make of it ? " at length inqu/'red he, 
 after a long pause, during which he ran the facts through his mind, 
 and thought they could not be much ruder to Sponge than they 
 had been, " What can we make of it ? " said he. " The fellow 
 can ride, and we can't prevent him hunting; and his having 
 nothing only makes him less careful of his neck."
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 147 
 
 "Why, that was just what I thought," rephed Lord Scamper- 
 dale, taking another tumbler of gin ; " that was just what I 
 thought — the fellow can ride, and we can't prevent him ; and just 
 as I settled that in my sleep, I thought I saw him come staring 
 along, with his great brown horse's head in the air, and crash right 
 a-top of old Labhxche. But I sec my way clearer with him now. 
 But help yourself," continued his lordship, passing the gin-bottle 
 over to Jack, feeling that what he had to say required a little 
 recommendation. " I think I can turn Frosty's information to 
 fiome account." 
 
 " I don't see how," observed Jack, replenishing his glass. 
 
 " / do, though," replied his lordship ; " but I must have your 
 assistance." 
 
 "Well, anything in moderation," replied Jack, who had had to 
 turn his hand to some very queer jobs occasionally. 
 
 " I'll tell you what /think," observed his lordship. "I think 
 there are two ways of getting rid of this haughty Philistine — this 
 unclean spirit — this 'bomination of a man. I think, in the first 
 place, if old Chatterbox knew that he had nothing, he would very 
 soon bow him out of Jawleyford Court ; and, in the second, that 
 wo might get rid of him by buying his horses." 
 
 "Well," replied Jack, " I don't know but you're right. Chatter- 
 box would soon wash his hands of him, as he has done of many 
 promising young gentleman before, if he has nothing ; but people 
 ditFer so in their ideas of what nothing consists of." 
 
 Jack spoke feelingly, for he was a gentleman who was generally 
 spoken of as having nothing a-year, paid quarterly ; and yet he 
 was in the enjoyment of an annuity of sixty pounds. 
 
 " Oh, why, when I say he has nothing," replied Lord Scamper- 
 dale, " I mean that he has not what Jawleyford, who is a bumptious 
 sort of an ass, would consider sufficient to make him a fit match 
 for one of his daughters. He may have a few hundreds a year, but 
 Jaw, I'm sure, will look at nothing under thousands." 
 
 " Oh, certainly not," replied Jack ; " there's no doubt about 
 that." 
 
 " Well, then, you see, I was thinking," observed Lord Scamper- 
 dale, eyeing Jack's countenance, " that if you would dine there 
 to-morrow, as we fixed — " 
 
 " Oh, dash it ! I couldn't do that," interrupted Jack, drawing 
 himself together in his chair like a horse refusing a leap ; "I 
 couldn't do that — I couldn't dine with Jaw not at no price." 
 
 " AVhy not ? " asked Lord Scamperdale ; " he'll give you a 
 good amnev^fricassres, and all sorts of good things; far finer fare 
 than you have here." 
 
 " That may all be," replied Jack, " but I don't want none of 
 his food. I hate the sight of the fellow, and detest him fresh every 
 
 h 2
 
 148 
 
 ME. SPONGE'S SPOETING TOUR. 
 
 time I see him. Consider, too, you said you'd let me oft' if I sarved 
 out Sponge ; and I'm sure I did my best. I led him over some 
 awful places, and then what a ducking I got ! My ears are full of 
 water still," added he, laying his head on one side to try to run it out. 
 
 "You did well," observed Lord Scamperdale — "you did well, and 
 I fully intended to let you oft", but then 1 didn't know what a beggar 
 I had to deal with. Come, say you'll go, that's a good fellow." 
 
 " Goiddn''(,'" replied Jack, sqainting frightfully. 
 
 " You'll oblif/e me," observed Lord Scamperdale. 
 
 "Ah, well, I'd do anything to oblige your lordship," replied 
 Jack, thinking of the corner in the will. " I'd do anything ta 
 oblige your lordship ; but the fact is, sir, I'm not prepared to go. 
 I've lost my specs — I've got no swell clothes — I can't go in the 
 Stunner tartan," added he, eyeing his backgammon-board-looking 
 chest, and diving his hands into the capacious pockets of his- 
 shooting-jacket. 
 
 " I'll manage all that," replied his lordship ; " I've got a pair of 
 splendid silver-mounted spectacles in the Indian cabinet in the 
 drawing-room, that I've kept to be married in. I'll lend them to 
 you, and there's no saying but you may captivate Miss Jawleyford 
 
 iiiliF^''''^'!'iiiIS^''^^ 
 
 GOOD NIGHT 
 
 in them. Then as to clothes, there's my new damson-coloured 
 velvet waistcoat with the steel buttons, and my fine blue coat with 
 the velvet collar, silk facings, and our button on it ; altogether I'll 
 rig you out and make you such a swell as there's no saying but 
 Miss Jawleyford'll offer to you, by way of coiisoHng herself for the- 
 loss of Sponge."
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 149 
 
 " I'm afraid you'll have to make a settlement for me, then," 
 observed our friend. 
 
 " Well, you are a good fellow, Jack," said his lordship, " and 
 I'd as soon make one on you as on any one," 
 
 " I 'spose you'll send me on wheels ? " observed Jack. 
 
 " In course," replied his lordship. " Dog-cart — name behind — 
 Right Honourable the Earl of Scamperdale — lad with cockade — 
 everything genteel ;" adding, " by Jove, they'll take you for me ! " 
 
 Having settled all these matters, and arranged how the informa- 
 tion was to be communicated to Jawleyford, the friends at length 
 took their block-tin candlesticks, with their cauliflower-headed 
 candles, and retired to bed. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 MR. SPEAOGON's embassy. 
 
 ^1 HEX Mr. Sponge re- 
 turned, all dirtied and 
 stained, from the chase, 
 he found his host sit- 
 ting in an arm-chair 
 over the study lire, 
 dressing-gowned and 
 slippered, with a poc- 
 ket-handkerchief tied 
 about his head, sham- 
 ming illness, prepara- 
 tory to putting off Mr. 
 Spraggon. To be sure 
 he played rather a bet- 
 ter knife and fork at 
 dinner than is usual 
 with persons with that 
 peculiar ailment ; but 
 Mr. Sponge, being very 
 hungry, and well at- 
 tended to by the fair, 
 — moreover, not sus- 
 pecting any ulterior 
 design, — just ate and jabbered away as usual, with the exception 
 of omitting his sick papa-in-law in the round of his observations. 
 So the dinner passed over, 
 
 " Bring me a tumbler and some hot water and sugar," said Mr. 
 
 MR. JAWLEYFORD S PECULIAR AILMENT.
 
 150 ME. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 Jawleyford, pressing his head against his hand, as Spigot, having 
 placed some bottle ends on the table, and reduced the glare of 
 light, was preparing to retire, " Bring me some hot water and 
 sugar," said he ; " and tell Harry he will have to go over to Lord 
 Scaraperdale's, with a note, the first thing in the morning." 
 
 The young ladies looked at each other, and then at mamma, 
 who, seeing what was wanted, looked at papa, and asked " if he 
 was going to ask Lord Scamperdale over ? " Amelia, among her 
 many " presentiments," had long enjoyed one that she was 
 destined to be Lady Scamperdale. 
 
 " No — over — no," snapped Jawleyford ; " what should put that 
 in your head ? " 
 
 " Oh, I thought as Mr. Sponge was here, you might think it a 
 good time to ask him." 
 
 " His lordship knows he can come when he likes," replied Jaw- 
 leyford ; adding, "it's to put that Mr. John Spraggon off, who 
 thinks he may do the same." 
 
 " Mr. Spraggon ! " exclaimed both the young ladies. " Mr. 
 Spraggon ! — what should set him here ? " 
 
 " What, indeed ? " asked Jawleyford. 
 
 " Poor man ! I dare say there's no harm in him," observed Mrs. 
 Jawleyford, who was always ready for anybody. 
 
 " No good either," replied Jawleyford, — " at all events, we'll be 
 just as well without him. You know him, don't you ? " added he, 
 tiu'ning to Sponge — " great coarse man in spectacles." 
 
 " Oh yes, I know him," replied Sponge ; "a great ruffian he is, 
 too," added he. 
 
 " One ought to be in robust health to encounter such a man," 
 observed Jawleyford, " and have time to get a man or two of the 
 same sort to meet him. We can do nothing with such a man. I 
 can't understand how his lordship puts up with such a fellow." 
 
 " Finds him useful, I suppose," observed Mr. Sponge. 
 
 Spigot presently appeared with a massive silver salver, bearing 
 tumblers, sugar, lemon, nutmeg, and other implements of negus. 
 
 " Will you join me in a little wine-and-water ? " asked Jawley- 
 ford, pointing to the apparatus and bottle ends, " or will you have 
 a fresh bottle ? — plenty in the cellar," added he, with a flourish of 
 his hand, though he kept looking steadfastly at th>3 negus-tray. 
 
 " Oil — why — I'm afraid — I doubt— I think I should hardly be 
 able to do justice to a bottle single-handed," replied Sponge. 
 
 " Then have negus," said Jawleyford ; " you'll And it veiy 
 refreshing ; medical men recommend it after violent exercise in 
 preference to wine. But ^;ra// have wine if you prefer it." 
 
 " Ah — well, I'll finish it oil' with a little negus, perhaps," replied 
 Sponge ; adding, "meanwhile the ladies, I dare say, would like a 
 little wine."
 
 3in. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUB. 151 
 
 " The ladies drink white wine — sli(rr//'^ — rejoined Jawlcyford, 
 determined to make a last effort to save his port. " However, you 
 can have a bottle of port to yom'self, you know." 
 
 "Very well," said Sponge. 
 
 "One condition I must attach," said Mr. Jawleyford, "which is, 
 that joujiiiish the bottle. Don't let us have any waste, you know." 
 
 " I'll do my best," said Sponge, determined to have it ; where- 
 upon Mr. Jawleyibrd growled the word " Port " to the butler, 
 who had been witnessing his master's eflbrts to direct attention to 
 the negus. Thwarted in his endeavour, Jawleyford's headache 
 became worse, and the ladies, seeing how things were going, beat 
 a precipitate retreat, leaving our hero to his fate. 
 
 " I'll leave a note on my writing-table when I go to bed," 
 observed Jawleyford to Spigot, as the latter was retiring after 
 depositing the bottle; "and tell PTarry to start with it early in 
 the morning, so as to get to Woodaiansternc about breakfast — 
 nine o'clock, or so, at latest," added he. 
 
 "Yes, sir," replied Spigot, withdrawing with an air. 
 
 Sponge then wanted to narrate the adventures of the day ; but, 
 independently of Jawleyford's natural indifference for hunting, he 
 was too much out of humour at being done out of his wine to lend 
 a willing ear ; and afcer sundry "hums,'''' "indeeds," " sos," &c.. 
 Sponge thought he might as well think the run over to himself as 
 trouble to put it into words, whereupon a long silence ensued, in- 
 teiTupted only by the tinkling of Jawleyford's spoon against his 
 glass, and the bumps of the decanter as Sponge helped himself to 
 his wine. 
 
 At length Jawleyford, having had as much negus as he wanted, 
 excused himself from further attendance, under the plea of in- 
 creasing illness, and retired to his study to concoct his letter 
 to Jack. 
 
 At first he was puzzled how to address him. If he had been 
 Jack Spraggon, living in old j\[other Xipcheese's lodgings at Star- 
 field, as he was when Lord Scamperdale took him by the hand, he 
 would have addressed him as " Dear Sir," or perhaps in the third 
 person, " Mr. Jawleyford presents his compliments to Mr. Sprag- 
 gon," &c. ; but, as my lord's right-hand man. Jack carried a cer- 
 tain weight, and commanded a certain influence, that he would 
 never have acquired of himself. 
 
 Jawleyford spoilt three sheets of cream-laid satin-wove note- 
 paper (crested and ciphered) before he pleased himself with a 
 beginning. First he had it " Dear Sir," which he thought looked 
 too stiff ; then he had it " My dear Sir," which he thought looked 
 too loving ; next he had it " Dear Spraggon," which he considered 
 as too familiar ; and then he tried " Dear Mr. Spraggon," which 
 he thought would do. Thus he wrote : —
 
 152 3IR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 "Dear Mr. Spraggox, — / am sorry to he obliged to put you 
 ojf ; hut since I came in from, hunting I have heen attacked with 
 influenza, which will incapacitate, me from the enjogmcnt of society 
 at least for two or three days. I tliercfore think the kindest thing 
 I can do is to write to put you off ; a7id, in the hopes of seeing hoth 
 you and my lord at no distant day, 
 
 " / remain, dear sir, yours sincerely, 
 
 "Charles James Jawleyford, 
 
 "To John SpKAGGOX, Esq., "Jawleyford Court. 
 
 &c. kc. kc" 
 
 This he sealed with the great seal of Jawleyford Court — a coat 
 of arms containing; innumerable quarterini^s and heraldic devices. 
 Having then refreshed his memory by looking through a bundle 
 of bills, and selected the most threatening of the lawyers' letters 
 to answer the next day, he proceeded to keep up the delusion of 
 sickness, by retiring to sleep in his dressing-room. 
 
 Our readers will now Iiave the kindness to accompany us to 
 Lord Scamperdale's : time, the morning after the foregoing. 
 " Love me, love my dog," being a favourite saying of his lord- 
 ship's, he fed himself, his friends, and his hounds, on the same 
 meal. Jack and he were busy with two great basins full of por- 
 ridge, which his lordship diluted with milk, Avhile Jack stirred his 
 lip with hot dripping, when the put-off note arrived. His lord- 
 ship was still in a complete suit of the great backgammon-board 
 looking red-and-yellow Stunner tartan ; but as Jack was going 
 from home, he had got himself into a pair of his lordships yellow- 
 ochre leathers and new top-boots, while he wore the Stunner jacket 
 and waistcoat to save his lordship's Sunday green cut-away with 
 metal buttons, and canary-coloured waistcoat. His lordship did 
 not eat his porridge with his usual appetite, for he had had a dis- 
 turbed night, Sponge having appeared to him in his dreams in all 
 sorts of forms and predicaments ; now jumping a-top of him — now 
 upsetting Jack — now riding over Frosty-face — now crashing among 
 his hounds ; and he awoke, fully determined to get rid of him by 
 fair means or foul. Buying his horses did not seem so good a 
 speculation as blowing his credit at Jawleyford Court, for, inde- 
 pendently of disliking to part with his cash, his lordship remem- 
 bered that there were other horses to get, and he should only be 
 giving Sponge the means of purchasing them. The more, how- 
 ever, he thought of the Jawleyford project, the more satisfied he 
 was that it would do ; and Jack and he were in a sort of rehearsal, 
 wherein his lordship personated Jawleyford, and was showing Jack 
 (who was only a clumsy diplomatist) how to draw up to the sub- 
 ject of Sponge's pecuniary deficiencies, when the dirty old butler 
 came in with Jawleyford's note.
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTINa TOUB. 153 
 
 " "What's here ? " exclaimed his lovdshii^, fearing froin its 
 smartness, that it was from a lady. " What's here ? " repeated he, 
 as he inspected the direction. "0, it's for you!'''' exclaimed he, 
 chucking it over to Jack, considerably relieved by the discovery. 
 
 " Me ! " replied Jack. " "Who can be writing- to me ? " said he 
 squinting his eyes inside out at the seal. He opened it : " Jawley- 
 ford Court," read he. '' "Who the deuce can be writing to mc 
 from Jawleyford Court when I'm going there ? " 
 
 " A put-off, for a guinea ! " exclaimed his lordship. 
 
 " Hope so," muttered Jack. 
 
 " Hope not,^'' replied his lordship. 
 
 " It is ! " exclaimed Jack, reading, " Dear 'Mv. Spraggon," and 
 60 on. 
 
 '• The humbug ! " muttered Lord Scamperdale ; adding, " I'll 
 be bound he's got no more influenza than I have." 
 
 " Well," observed Jack, sweeping a red cotton handkerchief, 
 with which he had been protecting his leathers, off into his pocket, 
 *' there's an end of that." 
 
 " Don't go so quick," replied his lordship, ladling in the porridge. 
 
 " QuicJc ! " retorted Jack ; "why, what can you do ? " 
 
 *' Do ! why, //o to be sure," replied his lordship. 
 
 " How can I go," asked Jack, " wlieu the sinner's written to 
 put me off ? " 
 
 " Nicely," replied his lordship, "nicely. I'll just send word 
 back by the servant that you had started before the note arrived, 
 but that you shall have it as soon as you return ; and you just 
 cast up there as if nothing had happened." So saying, his 
 lordship took hold of the whipcord-pull and gave the bell a peal. 
 
 " There's no beating you," observed Jack. 
 
 Bags now made his appearance again. 
 
 "Is the servant here that brought this note.'" asked his 
 lordship, holding it up. 
 
 " Yes, me lord," replied Bags. 
 
 " Then tell him to tell his master, with my compliments, that 
 Mr. Spraggon had set off for Jawleyford Court before it came, but 
 that he shall have it as soon as he returns — yoa understand ? " 
 
 " Yes, me lord," replied Bags, looking at Jack supping up the 
 fat porridge, and wondering how the lie would go down with 
 Harry, who was then discussing his master's merits and a born of 
 small beer with the lad who was going to drive Jack. 
 
 Jawleyford Court was twenty miles from Woodmansterne as the 
 crow flics, and any distance anybody liked to call it by the road. 
 The road, indeed, would seem to have been set out with a view of 
 getting as many hills and as little level ground over which a 
 traveller could make play as possible ; and where it did not lead 
 over the tops of the highest hills, it wound round their bases, in
 
 154 ME. SPONGE'S SFOETING TOUR. 
 
 snch little, vexatious, np-ancl-down, wavy dips as completely to do 
 away with all chance of expedition. Tlie route was not along one 
 continuous trust, but here over a bit of turnpike and there over a 
 bit of turnpike, with ever and anon long interregnums of township 
 roads, repaired in the usual primitive style with mud and soft 
 lield-stoncs, that turned up like flitches of bacon. A man would 
 travel from London to Exeter by rail in as short a time, and 'with 
 far greater ease, than ho Avould drive from Lord Scamperdale's to 
 Jawleyford Court. His lordship being aware of this fact, and 
 thinking, moreover, it was no use trashing a good horse over such 
 roads, had desired Frcstylace to put an old spavined grey mare, 
 that he had bought for the kennel, into the dog-cart, and out of 
 which, his lordship thought, if he could get a day's work or two, 
 she would come all the cheaper to the boiler. 
 
 " That's a good-shaped beast," observed his lordship, as she now 
 came hitching round to the door ; " I really think she would make 
 a cover hack." 
 
 " Sooner you ride her than me," replied Jack, seeing his lord- 
 ship was coming the dealer over him — praising the shape when he 
 could say nothing for the action. 
 
 " Well, but she'll take you to Jawleyford Court as quick as the 
 best of them," rejoined his lordship ; adding, " the roads are 
 wretched, and JaAv's stables are a disgrace to humanity — might as 
 well put a horse in a cellar." 
 
 *' Well," observed Jack, retiring from the parlour window to his 
 little den along the passage, to put the finishing touch to his 
 toilet — the green cut-away and buff waistcoat, which he further 
 set off with a black satin stock — " Well," said he, " needs must 
 when a certain gentleman drives." 
 
 He presently re-appeared full fig, rubbing a fine new eight-and- 
 sixpenny flat-brimmed hat round and round with a substantial 
 puce-coloured bandana. 
 
 " Now for the specs ! " exclaimed he, with the gaiety of a man 
 in his Sunday's best, bound on a holiday trip. " Now for the 
 silver specs ! " repeated he. 
 
 " Ah, true," replied his lordship ; " I'd forgot the specs." (He 
 hadn't, only he thought his silver-mounted ones would be safer in 
 his keeping than in Jack's.) " I'd forgot the specs. However, 
 never mind, you shall have these," said he, taking his tortoise- 
 shell-rimmed ones off his nose and handing them to Jack. 
 
 "You promised me the silver ones," observed our friend Jack, 
 who wanted to be smart. 
 
 " Did I ? " rephed his lordship ; " I declare I'd forgot. Ah, 
 yes, I believe I did," added he, with an air of sudden enlighten- 
 ment. — " the pair up stairs ; but how the deuce to get at them I 
 don't know, for the key of the Indian cabinet is locked in the old
 
 BIR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 155 
 
 oak press in the still-room, and the key of the still-room is locked 
 away in the linen-press in the green lumber-room at the top of 
 the house, and the key of the green lumber-room is in a drawer at 
 the bottom of the wardrobe in the Star-Chamber, and the — " 
 
 "Ah, well ; never mind," grunted Jack, interrupting the laby- 
 rinth of lies. "I dare say these Avill do, — I dare say these will 
 do," putting them on ; adding, " Xow, if you'll lend me a shawl 
 for my neck, and a Macintosh, my name shall bo WaUio:''^ 
 
 " Better make it Trotici-" replied his lordship, " considering the 
 distance you have to go." 
 
 " Good," said Jack, mounting and driving away. 
 
 " It will be a blessing if we get there," observed Jack to the 
 liveried stable-lad, as the old bag of bones of a mare went hitching 
 and limping away, 
 
 " Oh, she can go when she's warm," replied the lad, taking her 
 across the ears with the point of the whip. The wheels followed 
 merrily over the sound, hard road through the park, and the gentle 
 though almost imperceptible fall of the ground giving an impetus to 
 the vehicle, they bowled away as if they had four of the soundest, 
 freshest legs in the world before them, instead of nothing but a 
 belly-band between them and eternity. 
 
 When, however, they cleared the noble lodge and got upon the 
 unscraped mud of the Deepdebt turnpike, the pace soon slackened, 
 and, instead of the gig running away with the old mare, she Avas 
 fairly brought to her collar. Being a game one, however, she 
 struggled on Avith a trot, till at length, turning up the deeply- 
 spurlinged clayey-bottomed cross-road between Rookgate and 
 Clamley, it was all she could do to drag the gig through the 
 holding mire. Bump, bump, jolt, jolt, creak, creak, went the 
 vehicle. Jack now diving his elbow into the lad's ribs, the lad now 
 diving his into Jack's ; both now threatening to go over on the 
 same side, and again both nearly chucked on to the old mare's 
 quarters. A sharp, cutting sleet, driving pins and needles directly 
 in their faces, further disconcerted our travellers. Jack felt 
 acutely for his new eight-and-sixpenny hat, it being the only 
 article of dress he had on of his own. 
 
 Long and tedious as was the road, weak and jaded as was the 
 mare, and long as Jack stopped at Starfield, he yet reached Jaw- 
 leyford Court before the messenger Harry. 
 
 As our friend Jawleyford was stamping about his study 
 anathematising a letter he had received from the solicitor to the 
 directors of the Doembrown and Sinkall Railway, informing him 
 that they were going to indulge in the winding-up act, he chanced 
 to look out of his window just as the contracted limits of a 
 winter's day were drawing the first folds of night's muslin curtain 
 over the landscape, when he espied a gig drawn by a white horse.
 
 156 Iin. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUR. 
 
 with a dot-and-go-onc sort of action, Lopping its way up the 
 slumpey aTeniic. 
 
 " That's Buggins the bailiff," exclaimed he to himself, as the 
 recollection of an unanswered lawyer's letter flashed across his mind ; 
 and he was just darting off to the bell to warn Spigot not to admit 
 any one, when the lad's cockade standing in relief against the sky- 
 line, caused him to pause and gaze again at the unwonted apparition. 
 
 " Who the deuce can it be ? " asked he of himself, looking at his 
 watch, and seeing it was a quarter past four. " It surely can't be 
 my lord, or that Jack Spraggon coming after all ? " added he, 
 drawing out a telescope and opening a lancet-window. 
 
 " Spraggoyi as I live I " exclaimed he as he caught Jack's harsh, 
 spectacled features, and saw him titivating his hair and arranging 
 his collar and stock as he approached. 
 
 " Well, that beats everything ! " exclaimed Jawleyford, burning 
 with rage, as he fastened the window again. 
 
 He stood for a few seconds transfixed to the spot, not knowing 
 what on earth to do. At last resolution came to his aid, and, 
 rushing up stairs to his dressing-room, he quickly divested himself 
 of his coat and waistcoat, and slipped on a dressing-gown and 
 night-cap. He then stood, door in hand, listening for the 
 arrival. He could just hear the gig grinding under the portico, 
 and distinguish Jack's gruff voice saying to the servant from the 
 top of the steps — " We'll start directly after brealdast, mind." A 
 tremendous jDeal of the bell immediately followed, convulsing the 
 whole house, for nobody had seen the vehicle approaching, and 
 the establishment had fallen into the usual state of undress torpor 
 that intervenes between calling hours and dinner-time. 
 
 The bell not being answered as quickly as Jack expected, he 
 just opened the door himself ; and when Spigot arrived, with such 
 a force as he could raise at the moment, Jack was in the act of 
 ■" peeling " himself, as he called it. 
 
 " What time do we dine ? " asked he, with the air of a man with 
 the entree. 
 
 " Seven o'clock, my lord — that's to say, sir — that's to say, my 
 lord," for Spigot really didn't know whether it was Jack or his 
 master. 
 
 " Seven o'clock I " muttered Jack. '' What the deuce is the use 
 of dinin' at such an hour as that in winter ? " 
 
 Jack and my lord always dined as soon as they got home from 
 hunting. Jack, having got himself out of his wraps, and run his 
 bristles backwards with a pocket-comb, was ready for presen- 
 tation. 
 
 " What name shall I enounce ? " asked Mr. Spigot, fearful of 
 committing himself before the ladies. 
 
 "Mister Spraggon, to be sure," exclaimed Jack, thinking,
 
 SPRAGGON S EMBASSY TO JAWLEYFORD COURT. 
 
 [P. 156.
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 157 
 
 l)ccause lie knew who he was, that everybody else ought to know 
 too. 
 
 Spigot then led the way to the music-room. 
 
 The peal at the hell had caused a suppressed commotion in the- 
 apartment. Buried in the luxurious depths of a well-cushioned 
 low chair, Mr. Sponge sat, " Mogg " in hand, with a toe cocked 
 up, now dipping leisurely into his work — now whispering some- 
 thing sweet into Amelia's ear, who sat with her crochet-work at 
 his side ; while Emily played the piano, and Mrs. Jawleyford kept 
 in the background, in the discreet way mothers do when there is 
 a little business going on. The room was in that happy state of 
 misty light that usually precedes the entrance of candles — a 
 light that no one likes to call darkness, lest their eyes might be 
 supposed to be failing. It is a convenient light, however, for a 
 timid stranger, especially where there are not many footstools set 
 to trip him up — -an exemption, we grieve to say, not accorded to- 
 every one. 
 
 Though ^Ir. Spraggou was such a cool, impudent fellow with 
 men, he was the most awkward, frightened wretch among ladies 
 that ever was seen. His conversation consisted principally of 
 coughing. " Hem ! " — cough — " yes, mum," — hem — cough, 
 cougli — " the day," — hem — cough — " mum, is " — hem — cough — 
 ''very," — hem— cough — "mum, cold." But we Avill introduce 
 him to our family circle. 
 
 " Mr. SniAOGON I " exclaimed Spigot, in a tone equal to the 
 one in which Jack had announced himself in the entrance ; and 
 forthwith there was such a stir in the twilit apartment — such 
 suppressed exclamations of — 
 
 " Mr. Spraggon ! — Mr. Spraggon ! "What can bring him 
 here?" 
 
 Our traveller's creaking boots and radiant leathers eclipsing 
 the sombre habiliments of ]\[r. Spigot, Mrs. Jawleyford quickly 
 rose from her Pembroke writing-desk, and proceeded to greet him. 
 
 " My daughters I think you know, Mr. Spraggon ; also Mr. 
 Sponge ? Mr. Spraggon," continued she, with a wave of her hand 
 to where our hero was ensconced in his form, in case they should 
 not have made each other's speaking acquaintance. 
 
 The young ladies rose, and curtsied prettily ; while Mr. Sponge 
 gave a sort of backward hitch of his head as lie sat in his chair, 
 as much as to say, " I know as much of ]Mr. Spraggon as I 
 want." 
 
 "Tell your master ]\Ir. Spraggon is here," added JMrs. Jawley- 
 ford to Spigot, as that worthy was leaving the room. "It's a 
 cold day, Mr. Spraggon ; won't you come near the fire ?" continued 
 Mrs. Jawleyford, acldressing our friend, who had come to a full 
 stop just under the chandelier in the centre of the room.
 
 153 ME. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUB. 
 
 " j/em — cough — //n«— thank yc, mum," muttered Jack. " I'm 
 not — hem — coii/jh — cold, thank yc, mum." His face and hands 
 were purple notwithstanding. 
 
 "How is my Lord Scamperdale ?" asked Amelia, who had a 
 strong inclination to keep in with all parties. 
 
 " Hcm—congh — hem — my lord — that's to say my lady — liem 
 — cough — I mean to say, my lord's pretty well, thank ye," stuttered 
 Jack. 
 
 " Is he coming ? " asked Amelia. 
 
 " Hem — coiigli — Jmn — my lord's — hem — not well — rovgh — no — 
 hem — I mean to say — hem — covgh — my lord's gone— 7ie//i— to dine 
 — covgh — ?tem — with his — cough — friend Lord Bubbley Jock — hem 
 — cough — I mean Barker — coughs 
 
 Jack and Lord Scamperdale were so in the habit of calling his 
 lordship by this nickname, that Jack let it slip, or rather cough 
 out, inadvertently. 
 
 In due time Spigot returned, with "Master's compliments, and 
 he was very sorry, but he was so unwell that he was quite unable 
 ito see any one." 
 
 " Oh, dear ! " exclaimed Mrs. Jawleyford. 
 
 " Poor pa ! " lisped Amelia. 
 
 "What a pity ! " observed ]\Ir. Sponge. 
 
 "I must go and see him," observed Mrs. Jawleyford, hurrying oiT. 
 
 " Hem — cr/vgh — hem — hope he's not much — hem — damaged ? " 
 observed Jack. 
 
 The old lady being thus got rid of, and Jawleyford disposed of 
 — apparently for the night — Mr. Spraggon felt more comfortable, 
 and presently yielded to Amelia's entreaties to come near the fire 
 and thaw himself. Spigot brought candles, and Mr. Sponge sat 
 moodily in his chair, alternately studying Mogg's " Cab Fares " — 
 " Old Bailey, Newgate-street, to or from the Adelphi, the Terrace, 
 \s. (jcl. ; Admiralty, 2s. ; " and so on ; and hazarding promiscuous 
 sidelong sort of observations, that might be taken up by Jack or 
 not, as "he liked. He seemed determined to pay Mr. Jack oflP for 
 his out-of-door impudence. AmeHa, on the other hand, seemed 
 ■desirous of making up for her suitor's rudeness, and kept talking 
 to Jack with an assiduity that perfectly astonished her sistei-, 
 who had always heard her speak of him with the utmost 
 abhorrence. 
 
 Mrs. Jawleyford found her husband in a desperate state of 
 excitement, his influenza being greatly aggravated by Harry having 
 returned very drunk, with the mare's knees desperately broken 
 " by a fall," as Harry hiccuped out, or by his " throwing her 
 down," as Jawleyford declared. Horses fall with their masters, 
 sen-ants throiv them down. What a happiness it is when people 
 can send their ser\ants on errands by coaches or railways, instead
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPOTTING TOUR. 159 
 
 of being kept on the fidget all day, lest a fifty-pound horse should 
 be the price of a bodkin or a basket of fish ! 
 
 Amelia's condescension quite turned Jack's head ; and when he 
 went up-stairs to dress, he squinted at his lordship's best clothes, 
 all neatly laid out for him ou the bed, with inward satisfaction at 
 having brought them. 
 
 " Dash me ! " said he, " I really think that girl has a fancy for 
 me." Then he examined himself minutely in the glass, brushed 
 his whiskers up into a curve on his cheeks, the curves almost 
 corresponding widi the curve of his spectacles above ; then he gave 
 his bristly, porcupine-shaped head a backward rub with a sort of 
 thing like a scrubbing-brush. " If I'd only had the silver specs," 
 thought he, " I should have done." 
 
 He then began to dress ; an operation that ever and anon was 
 interrupted by the outburst of volleys of smoke from the little 
 spluttering, smouldering fire, in the little shabby room Jawleyford 
 insisted on having him put into. 
 
 Jack tried all things — opening the window and shutting the 
 door, shutting the window and opening the door ; but finding 
 that, instead of curing it, he only produced the different degrees 
 of comparison — bad, worse, worst, — he at length shut both, and 
 applied himself vigorously to dressing. He soon got into his stockings 
 and pumps, also his black Saxony trousers ; then came a fine black 
 lace fringed cravat, and the damson-coloured velvet waistcoat with 
 the cut-steel buttons. 
 
 " Dash me, but I look pretty well in this ! " said he, eying first 
 one side and then the other as he buttoned it. He then stuck a 
 chased and figured fine gold brooch, with two pendant tassel- 
 drops, set with turquoise and agates, that he had abstracted from 
 his lordship's dressing-case, into his, or rather his lordship's, finely- 
 worked shirt-front, and crowned the toilet with his lordship's best 
 new blue coat with velvet collar, silk facings, and the Flat Hat Hunt 
 button — " a striding fox," with the letters " F. H. H." below. 
 
 " Who shall say Mr. Spraggon's not a gentleman ? " said he, as 
 he perfumed one of his lordship's fine coronetted cambric handker- 
 chiefs with lavender-water. Scent, in Jack's opinion, was one of 
 the criterions of a gentleman. 
 
 Somehow Jack felt quite differently towards the house of Jaw- 
 leyford ; and though he did not expect much pleasure in Mr. 
 Sponge's company, he thought, nevertheless, that the ladies and 
 he — Amelia and he at least — would get on very well. Forgetting 
 that he had come to eject Sponge on the score of insufficiency, he 
 really beiran to think he might be a very desirable match for one 
 of them himself.
 
 160 
 
 ME. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 MR. SPRAGGOX AT JAWLEYFORD COURT. 
 
 'THE Spraggons 
 are a most 
 respectable 
 family," said 
 he, eyeing him- 
 self in the glass. 
 " If not very 
 handsome, at 
 all events, very 
 genteel," added 
 he, speaking of 
 himself in par- 
 ticular. So say- 
 ing, he adorned 
 himself with his 
 spectacles and 
 set off to explore 
 his way down 
 I stairs. After 
 divers mistakes 
 he at length 
 found himself 
 in the drawing- 
 room, where 
 the rest of the 
 party being 
 assembled, they 
 presently pro- 
 ceeded to din- 
 ner. 
 
 Jack's amended costume did not produce any diiference in Mr. 
 Sponge's behaviour, who treated him with the utmost indifference. 
 In truth, Sponge had rather a large balance against Jack for his 
 impudence to him in the field. Nevertheless, the fair Amelia 
 continued her attentions, and talked of hunting, occasionally 
 diverging into observations on Lord Scamperdale's line riding and 
 manly character and appearance, in the roundabout way ladies send 
 their messages and compliments to their friends. 
 
 The dinner was flat, Jawleyford had stopped the champagne 
 
 ENTER MR. JACK SPKAOGON, FULL DRESS.
 
 3IB. SPONG£:'S SPOBTING TOUR. IGl 
 
 tap, though the needle-cnse glasses stood to tantalise the party till 
 about the time that the beverage ought to have been flowing, when 
 Spigot took them off. The flatness then became flatter. Never- 
 theless, Jack worked away in his usual carnivorous style, and 
 tinished by paying his respects to all the sweets, jellies, and things 
 ia succession. He never got any of these, he said, at " home," 
 meaning at Lord Scamperdale's — Amelia thought, if she was "my 
 lady," he would not get any meat there either. 
 
 At length Jack finished ; and having discussed cheese, porter, 
 and red herrings, the cloth was drawn, and a hard-featured dessert, 
 cunsisting principally of apples, followed. The wane having made 
 51 couple of melancholy circuits, the strained conversation about 
 came to a full stop, and Spigot having considerately placed the 
 little round table, as if to keep the peace between them, the ladies 
 left the male worthies to discuss their port and sherry together. 
 Jack, according to AVoodmansterne fashion, unbuttoned his waist- 
 coat, and stuck his legs out before him,— an example that Mr. 
 Sponge quickly followed, and each assumed an attitude that as 
 good as said, *' I don't care twopence for you." A dead sileuce 
 then prevailed, interrupted only by the snap, snap, snapping of 
 Jack's toothpick against his chair-edge, when he was not busy 
 exploring his mouth with it. It seemed to be a match which 
 should keep sileuce longest. Jack sat squinting his eyes inside out 
 at Sponge, while Sponge pretended to be occupied with the fire. 
 The wine being with Sponge, and at length wanting some, he was 
 constrained to make the first move, by passing it over to Jack, who 
 helped himself to port and sherry simultaneously — a glass of 
 sherry after dinner (in Jack's opinion) denoting a gentleman. 
 Having smacked his lips over that, he presently turned to the glass 
 (if port. He checked his hand in passing it to his mouth, and bore 
 tlie glass up to his nose. 
 
 " Corked, by Jove ! " exclaimed he, setcing the glass down on the 
 table with a thump of disgust. 
 
 It is curious what unexpected turns things sometimes take in the 
 world, and how completely "whole trains of well-preconcerted plans 
 arc often turned aside by mere accidents such as this. K it hadn't 
 iiecn for the corked bottle of port, there is no saying but these two 
 worthies would have held a Quakers' meeting without the "spirit" 
 moving either of them. 
 
 " Corked, by Jove ! " exclaimed Jack. 
 
 " It is ! " rejoined Sponge, smelling at his half-emptied glass. 
 
 " Better have another bottle," observed Jack. 
 
 "Certainly," replied Sponge, ringing the bell. "Spigot, this 
 wine's corked," observed Sponge, as old Pomposo entered the room. 
 
 " Is it ? " said Spigot, with the most perfect innocence, though 
 ii« knew^ it came out of the corked batch. " I'll bring another
 
 162 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 botLle," added he, carrying it off as if he had a whole pipe at 
 command, though in reality he had but another out. This 
 fortunately was less corked than the first ; and Jack having 
 given an approving smack of his great thick lips, Mr. Sponge took 
 it on his judgment, and gave a nod to Spigot, who forthwith took 
 his departure. 
 
 " Old trick that," observed Jack, with a shake of the head, as 
 Spigot shut the door. 
 
 " Is it ? " observed Mr. Sponge, taking up the observation, 
 though in reality it was addressed to the fire. 
 
 " Noted for «/," replied Jack, squinting at the sideboard, though 
 he was staring intently at Sponge to see how he took it. 
 
 " AVell, I thought we had a bottle with a queer smatch the other 
 night," observed Sponge. 
 
 " Old Blossomnose corked half-a-dozen in succession one night," 
 replied Jack. 
 
 (He had corked three, but Jawleyford recorkcd them, and Spigot 
 was now reproducing them to our friends.) 
 
 Although they had now got the ice broken, and entered into 
 something like a conversation, it nevertheless went on very slowly, 
 and they seemed to weigh each word before it was uttered. Jack, 
 too, had time to run his peculiar situation through his mind, and 
 ponder on his mission from Lord Scamperdale — on his lordship's 
 detestation of Mr. Sponge, his anxiety to get rid of him, his 
 promised corner in his will, and his lordship's hint about buying 
 Sponge's -horses if he could not get rid of him in any other way. 
 
 Sponge, on his part, was thinking if there was any possibility of 
 turning Jack to account. 
 
 It may seem strange to the uninitiated that there should be 
 prospect of gain to a middle-man in the matter of a horse-deal, save 
 in the legitimate trade of auctioneers and commission stable- 
 keepers ; but we arc sorry to say we have known men calling 
 themselves gentlemen, who have not thought it derogatory to 
 accept a " trifle " for their good offices in the cause. " I can buy 
 cheaper than you," they say, "and we may as well divide the trifle 
 between us." 
 
 That was Mr. Spraggon's principle, only that the word " trifle " 
 inadequately conveys his opinion on the point ; Jack's notion 
 being that a man was entitled to bl per cent, as of right, and as 
 much more as he could get. 
 
 It was not often that Jack got a " bite " at my lord, which, 
 perhaps, made Mm think it the more incumbent on him not a miss 
 an opportunity. Having been told, of course he knew exactly the 
 style of man he had to deal with in Mr. Sponge — a style of men of 
 whom there is never any difficulty in asking if they will sell their 
 horses, price being the only consideration. They are, indeed, a
 
 ME. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 1C3 
 
 sort of unlicensed horse-dealers, from whose presence few hunts are 
 wholly free. Mr. Spraj^gon thought, if he could get Sponge to 
 make it worth his while to get my lord to buy his horses, the — 
 whatever he might get — would come in very comfortably to pay 
 his Christmas bills. 
 
 By the time the bottle drew to a close, our friends were rather 
 better friends, and seemed more inclined to fraternise. Jack had 
 the advantage of Sponge, for he could stare, or rather squint, at 
 him without Sponge knowing it. The pint of wine apiece — at 
 least as near a pint apiece as Spigot could atf'ord to let them have — 
 somewhat strung Jack's nerves as well as his eyes, and he began to 
 show more of the pupils and less of the whites than he did. He 
 buzzed the bottle with such a hearty good will as settled the fate of 
 another, which Sponge rang for as a matter of course. There was 
 but the rejected one, which, however, Spigot put into a different 
 decanter, and brought in with such an air as precluded either of 
 them saying a word in disparagement of it. 
 
 " Where are the hounds next week ? " asked Sponge, sipping 
 away at it. 
 
 " Monday, Larkhall Hill ; Tuesday, the cross-roads by Dallington 
 Burn ; Thursday, the Toll-bar at Whitburrow Green ; Saturday, 
 the kennels," replied Jack. 
 
 " Good places ? " asked Sponge. 
 
 " Monday's good," replied Jack : " draw Thorney Gorse — sure 
 find ; second draw, Barnlow Woods, and home by Loxley, Padmore, 
 and so on." 
 
 " What sort of a place is Tuesday ? " 
 
 " Tuesday ? " repeated Jack. "Tuesday ! Oh, that's the cross 
 roads. Capital place, unless the fox takes to Rumborrow Craigs, 
 or gets into Seedeywood Forest, when there's an end of it — at 
 least an end of everything except pulling one's horse's legs off in 
 the stiff clayey rides. It's a long way from here, tliough," 
 observed Jack. 
 
 " How far ? " asked Sponge. 
 
 " Good twenty miles," replied Jack. ''It's sixteen from us ; it'll 
 be a good deal more from here." 
 
 " His lordship will lay out overnight, then ? " observed Sponge. 
 
 " Not he," replied Jack. " Takes better care of his sixpences 
 than that. Up in the dark, breakl'ast by candle-light, grope our 
 ways to the stable, and blunder along the deep lanes, and through 
 all the bye-roads in the country — get there somehow or another." 
 
 " Keen hand ! " observed Sponge. 
 
 " Mad ! " replied Jack. 
 
 They then paid their mutual respects to the port. 
 
 " He hunts there on Tuesdays," observed Jack, setting down his 
 glass, " so that he may have ail Wednesday to get home in, and be 
 
 M 2
 
 104 3IR. SPONGE'S SPOETING TOUR. 
 
 sure of appearing on Thursday. There's no saying where he may 
 tinish with a cross-roads' meet." 
 
 By the time the worthies had finished the bottle, they had got 
 a certain way into each other's confidence. The hint Lord 
 Scamperdale had given about buying Sponge's horses still occupied 
 Jack's mind ; and the more he considered the subject, and the 
 worth of a corner in his lordship's will, the more sensible he 
 became of the truth of the old adage, tliat " a bird in the hand is 
 worth two in the bush," " My Lord," thought Jack, " promises 
 fair, but it is hut a chance, and a remote one. He may live many 
 years — as long, perhaps longer, than me. Indeed, he puts me on 
 horses that are anything but calculated to promote longevity. 
 Then he may marry a wife who may eject me, as some wives do 
 eject their husbands' agreeable friends ; or he may change his 
 mind, and leave me nothing after all." 
 
 All things considered, Jack came to the conclusion that he 
 should not be doing himself justice if he did not take advantage 
 of such fair opportunities as chance placed in his way, and there- 
 fore he thought he might as well be picking up a penny during 
 his lordship's life, as be waiting for a contingency that might never 
 occur. Mr. Jawleyford's indisposition preventing Jack making 
 the announcement he was sent to do, made it incumbent on him, 
 as he argued, to see what could be done with the alternative his 
 lordship had proposed — namely, buying Sponge's horses. At 
 least. Jack salved his conscience over with the old plea of duty ;. 
 and had come to that conclusion as he again helped himself to 
 the last glass in the bottle. 
 
 " Would you like a little claret ? " asked Sponge Avith all the 
 hospitality of a host. 
 
 " No, hang your claret ! " replied Jack. 
 
 "A little brandy, perhaps ?" suggested Sponge. 
 
 " I shouldn't mind a glass of brandy," replied Jack, "by way of 
 a nightcap." 
 
 Spigot, at this moment entering to announce tea and coffee, 
 was interrupted in his oration by Sponge demanding some 
 brandy. 
 
 " Sorry," replied Spigot, pretending to be quite taken by surprise 
 " very sorry, sir — but, sir — master, sir — bed, sir — disturb him,. 
 sir." 
 
 " Oh, dasb. it, never mind that ! " exclaimed Jack ; tell him IMr. 
 Sprag — Sprag — Spraggon " (the bottle of port beginning to make 
 Jack rather inarticulate) — "tell him Mr. S^Draggon wants a little," 
 
 "Dursn't disturb him, sir," responded Spigot, with a shake of 
 his head ; " Much as my place, sir, is worth, sir." 
 
 " Haven't you a little drop in your pantry, think you ? " asked: 
 Sponge.
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUU. 105 
 
 " The coolc perhaps has," replied Mr. Spigot, as if it was quite 
 out of his line. 
 
 " AYell, go and ask her," said Sponge ; " and bring some hot 
 ■water and things, the same as we had last night, you know." 
 
 Mr. Spigot retired, and presently returned, bearing a tray with 
 til roc-quarters of a bottle of brandy, which he impressed upon 
 their minds was the "cook's o?n?." 
 
 " I dare say," hiccupped Jack, holding the bottle up to the light. 
 
 " Hope she wasn't using it herself," observed Sponge. 
 
 "Tell her we'll (hiccup) her health," hiccupped Jack, pouring a 
 liberal potation into his tumbler. 
 
 "That'll be all you'll do, I dare say," muttered Spigot to him- 
 self, as he sauntered back to his pantry. 
 
 " Does Jaw stand smoking ? " asked Jack, as Spigot disappeared. 
 
 "Oh I should think so," replied Sponge ; "a friend like you, 
 I'm sure, would be welcome "—Sponge thinking to indulge in p. 
 cigar, and lay the blame on Jack. 
 
 " Well, if you think so," said Jack, pulling out his cigar-case, or 
 rather his lordship's, and staggering to the chimney-piece for a 
 match, though there was a candle at his elbow, " I'll have a pipe." 
 
 " So'll I," said Sponge, " if you'll give me a cigar." 
 
 "Much yours as mine," replied Jack, handing him his lordship's 
 richly embroidered case with coronets and ciphers on either side, 
 the gift of one of the many would-be Lady Scamperdales. 
 
 " "Want a light ! " hiccupped Jack, who had now got a glow- 
 worm end to his. 
 
 "Thanks," said Sponge, availing himself of the friendly overture. 
 
 Our friends now Avhitfed and puifed away together — whiffing 
 and puffing where whiffing and puffing had never been known 
 before. The brandy began to disappear pretty quickly ; it was 
 better than the wine. 
 
 " That's a n — n — nice — ish horse of yours," stammered Jack, as 
 he mixed himself a second tumbler. 
 
 " Which ? " asked Sponge. 
 
 " The bur — bur — brown," spluttered Jack. 
 
 " He is that,^'' replied Sponge ; "best horse in this country by far." 
 
 " The che — che — chest — nut's not a ba — ba — bad un, I dare 
 say," observed Jack. 
 
 " No, he's not," replied Sponge ; " a deuced good un." 
 
 " I know a man who's rather s — s — s — sweet on the b — b — br — 
 brown," observed Jack, squinting frightfully. 
 
 Sponge sat silent for a few seconds, pretending to be vrrapt up 
 in his " sublime tobacco." 
 
 " Is he a buyer, or just a jawer ? " he asked at last. 
 
 " Oh, a l/Ni/cr,'''' replied Jack. 
 
 " I'll se//," said Sponge, with a strong emphasis on the sell.
 
 IGG MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 " How mucli ? " asked Jack, sobering with the excitement. 
 
 " Which ? " asked Sponge. 
 
 " The brown," rejoined Jack. 
 
 " Three hundred," said Sponge ; adding, " I gave t/vo for him." 
 
 " Indeed ! " said Jack. 
 
 A long pause then ensued. Jack thinking whether he should put 
 the question boldly as to what Sponge would give him for effecting 
 a sale, or should beat about the bush a little. At last he thought 
 it would be most prudent to beat about the bush, and see if Sponge 
 would make an ofl'er. 
 
 "Well," said Jack, " I'll s — s — s — see what I can do." 
 
 " That's a good fellow," said Sponge ; adding, " I'll remember 
 you if you do." 
 
 " I dare say I can s — s — s— sell them both, for that matter," 
 observed Jack, encouraged by the promise. 
 
 " Well," replied Sponge, " I'll take the same for the chestnut ; 
 
 there isn't the toss-up of a halfpenny for choice between them." 
 
 " Well," said Jack, " we'll s — s — s — see them next week," 
 
 " Just so," said Sjoonge. 
 
 " You r — r — ride well up to the h — h — hounds," continued Jack, 
 "and let his lordship s — s — see w — w — what they can do." 
 
 " I will," said Sponge, wishing he Avas at work. 
 
 "Never mind his rowing," observed Jack; "he c — c — can't 
 help it." 
 
 " Not I," replied Sponge, puffing away at his cigar. 
 
 When men once begin to drink brandy-and-water (after wine) 
 there's an end of all note of time. Our friends — for we " may now 
 call them so," sat sip, sip, sipping — mix, mix, mixing ; now 
 strengthening, now Aveakening, now warming, noAV flavouring, till 
 tliey had not only finished the hot water but a large jug of cold, 
 that graced the centre of the table between tAVO frosted tumblers, 
 and had nearly got through the brandy too. 
 
 " May as Avell fi — fi — fin — nish the bottle," observed Jack, hold- 
 ing it up to the candle. "Just a thi — thi — thim— bleful apiece," 
 added he, helping himself to about three-quarters of what there was. 
 
 "You've taken your share," obser\-ed Sponge, as the bottle 
 suspended payment before he got half the quantity that Jack had. 
 
 '• Sque — ee — eze it," replied Jack, suiting the action to the word, 
 and working aAvay at an exhausted lemon. 
 
 At length they finished. 
 
 " Weh, I s'pose Ave may as well go and have some tea," observed 
 Jack. 
 
 " It's not announced yet," said Sponge, " but I make no doubt 
 it Avill be ready." 
 
 So saying, the Avorthies rose, and, after sundry bumps and 
 certain irregularities of course, they each succeeded in reaching"
 
 ME. SPONGE'S SFORTING TOUR. 1G7 
 
 the door. The passage lamp had died out and filled tlie corridor 
 with its fragrance. Sponge, however, knew the way, and the dark- 
 ness favoured the adjustment of cravats and the fingering of hair. 
 Having got up a sort of drunken simper, Sponge opened the drawing- 
 room door, expecting to find smiling ladies in a blaze of light. All, 
 however, was darkness, save the expiring embers in the grate. The 
 tick, tick, tick, ticking of the clocks sounded wonderfully clear. 
 
 " Gone to bed ! " exclaimed Sponge. 
 
 " Who-hoop ! " shrieked Jack, at the top of his voice. 
 
 " What's smatter, gentlemen ? — "What's smatter ? " exclaimed 
 Spigot rushing in, rubbing his eyes with one hand, and holding 
 a block tin candlestick in the other. 
 
 " Nothin'," replied Jack, squinting his eyes inside out ; adding, 
 " Get me a devilled — " (hiccup) 
 
 " Don't know how to do them here, sir," snapped Spigot. 
 
 " Devilled turkey's leg though you do, you rascal ! " rejoined 
 Jack, doubling his fists and putting himself in posture. 
 
 '•Beg pardon, sir," replied Spigot, "but the cook, sir, is gone 
 to bed, sir. Do you know, sir, what o'clock it is, sir ? " 
 
 "No," replied Jack. 
 
 " What time is it ? " asked Sponge, 
 
 " Twenty minutes to two," replied Spigot, holding up a sort of 
 pocket warming-pan, which he called a watch. 
 
 " The deuce," exclaimed Sponge. 
 
 " Who'd ha' thought it ? " muttered Jack. 
 
 " Well then, I suppose we may as well go to bed," observed 
 Sponge. 
 
 " S'pose so," replied Jack : " nothin' more to get." 
 
 " Do you know your room ? " asked Sponge. 
 
 "To be sure I do," replied Jack ; "don't think I'm d — d — dr — 
 drunk, do you ? " 
 
 " Not likely," rejoined Sponge. 
 
 Jack then commenced a very crab-like ascent of the stairs, 
 which fortunately were easy, or he would never have got up. Mr. 
 Sponge, who still occupied the state apartments, took leave of 
 Jack at his own door, and Jack went bumping and blundering on 
 in search of the branch passage leading to his piggery. He found 
 the green baize door that usually distinguishes the entrance to 
 these secondary suites, and was presently lurching along its con- 
 tracted passage. As luck would have it, however, he got into his 
 host's dressing-room, where that worthy slept ; and when Jawley- 
 ford jumped up in the morning, as was his wont, to see what sort 
 of a day it was, he trod on Jack's face, who had fallen down in his 
 clothes alongside of the bed, and Jawleyford broke Jack's spectacles 
 across the bridge of his nose. 
 
 " Hot it ! " roared Jack jumping up, " don't ride over a fellow
 
 168 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 that way ! " when, shaking himself to try whether any limbs wci'e 
 broken, he found he was in his dress clothes instead of in the roomy 
 garments of the Flat Hat Hunt. " "Who are you ? where am I ? 
 what the deuce do you mean by breaking my specs ? " he exclaimed, 
 squinting frightfully at his host. 
 
 " My dear sir," exclaimed IMr. Jawleyford, from the to]) of his 
 night-shirt, " I'm very sorry, but " 
 
 " Hang your buls I you shouldn't ride so near a man ! "' exclaimed 
 Jack, gathering up the fragments of his spectacles ; when, recollect- 
 ing himself, he finished by say, " Perhaps I'd better go to my own 
 room." 
 
 '' Perhaps you had," replied Mr. Jawleyford, advancing towards 
 the door to show him the way. 
 
 "Let me have a candle," said Jack, preparing to follow. 
 
 *•' Candle, my dear fellow ! why it's broad dayligh t," replied his host. 
 
 " Is it ? " said Jack, apparently unconscious of the fact. 
 " What's the hour ? " 
 
 " Five minutes to eight," replied Jawleyford, looking at a 
 timepiece. 
 
 When Jack got into his own den he threw himself into an old 
 invalid chair, and sat rubbing the fractured spectacles together as 
 if he thought they would unite by friction, though in reality he 
 was endeavouring to run the overnight's proceedings through his 
 mind. The more he thought of Amelia's winning ways, the more 
 satisfied he was that he had made an impression, and then the 
 more vexed he was at having his spectacles broken : for though 
 he considered himself very presentable without them, still he 
 could not but feel that they were a desirable addition. Then, too 
 he had a splitting headache ; and finding that breakfast was not 
 till ten and might be a good deal later, all things considered, he 
 determined to be otf and follow up his success under more favour- 
 able auspices. Considering that all the clothes he had with him 
 were his lordship's, he thought it immaterial which he went home 
 in, so to save trouble he just wrapped himself up in his mackintosh 
 and travelled in the dress ones he had on. 
 
 It was fortunate for Mr. Sponge that he went, for, when Jawley- 
 ford smelt the indignity that had been offered to his dining-room, 
 he broke out in such a torrent of indignation as would have been 
 extremely unpleasant if there had not been some one to lay the 
 blame on. Indeed, he was not particularly gracious to j\Ir. Sponge 
 as it was ; but that arose, as much from certain dark hints that 
 had worked their way from the servants' hall into "my lady's 
 chamber" as to our friend's pecuniary resources and prospects. 
 Jawleyford began to suspect that Sponge might not be quite the 
 great '' catch " he was represented. 
 
 Beyond, however, putting a few searching questions — which
 
 21 R. SPONGE'S SPOUTING TOUR. 
 
 !(>!) 
 
 Mr. Sponge skilfully parried — advising his daughters to be cautious-, 
 lessening the number of lights, and lowering the scale of his enter- 
 tainments generally, Mr. Jawleyford did not take any decided step 
 in the matter. Mr. Spraggon comforted Lord Scamperdale with 
 the assurance that Amelia had no idea of Sponge, who he made no 
 doubt would very soon be out of the country — and his lordshi^^ 
 went to church and prayed most devoutly for him to go. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 MR. AND MRS. SPRIXGWHEAT. 
 
 '• Lord Scamperdale's foxhounds meet on Monday at Larkliall Hill," &c. kc. 
 
 Connti/ Pi/ />!■/■. 
 
 
 SPl(INi:\VHEAT.S FIVE-VEAE-OLD HORSE. 
 
 The Flat Hat Hunt had relapsed into its wonted quiet, and 
 " Larkhall Hill " saw none but the regular attendants, men 
 without the slightest particle of curve in their hats — hats, indeed, 
 that looked as if the owners sat upon thtm when they hadn". them
 
 170 3IB. SPONGE'S SPOETING TOUR. 
 
 oa their heads. There was Fyle, and Fossick, and Blossomnose, 
 and Sparks, and Joyce, and Capon, and Dribble, and a few 
 others, but neither Washball nor Puffing-ton, nor any of the holi- 
 day birds. 
 
 Precisely at ten, my lord, and his honnds, and his huntsman^ 
 and his whips, and his Jack, trotted round Farmer Springwheat's 
 spacious back premises, and appeared in due form before the grcea 
 rails in front. " Pride attends ns all," as the poet says ; and if 
 his lordship had ridden into the yard, and halloaed out for a glass 
 of home-brewed, Springwheat would have trapped every fox on his 
 farm, and the blooming Mrs. Springwheat would have had an 
 interminable poultry-bill against the hunt ; whereas, simply by 
 "making things pleasant,"— that is to say, coming to breakfast 
 — Springwheat saw his corn trampled on, nay, led the way over it 
 himself, and Mrs. Springwheat saw her Dorkings disappear with- 
 out a murmur — unless, indeed, an inquiry when his lordship would 
 be coming could be considered in that light. 
 
 Larkhall Hill stood in the centre of a circle, on a gentle eminence, 
 commanding a view over a farm whose fertile fields and well-trimmed 
 fences sufficiently indicated its boundaries, and looked indeed as 
 if all the good of the country had come up to it. It was green 
 and luxuriant even in winter, while the strong cane-coloured 
 stubbles showed what a crop there had been. Turnips as big as 
 cheeses swelled above the ground. In a little narrow dell, whose 
 existence was more plainly indicated from the house by several 
 healthy spindling larches shooting up from among the green gorsc„ 
 was the cover — an almost certain find, with the almost equal 
 certainty of a run from it. It occupied both sides, of the sandy, 
 rabbit-frequented dell, through which ran a sparkling stream, and 
 it possessed the great advantage to foot-people of letting them see 
 the fox found. Larkhall Hill, was, therefore a favourite both with 
 horse and foot. So much good — at all events so much well-farmed 
 land would seem to justify a better or more imposing-lookiug house^ 
 the present one consisting, exclusive of the projecting garret ones 
 in the Dutch tile roof, of the usual four windows and a door, that 
 so well tell their own tale ; passage in the middle, staircase in 
 front, parlour on the right, best ditto on the left, with rooms ta 
 correspond above. To be sure, there was a great depth of house 
 to the back ; but this in no Avay contributed to the importance 
 of the front, from which point alone the Springwheats chose to 
 have it contemplated. If the back arrangements could have been 
 divided, and added to the sides, they would have made two very 
 good wings to the old red brick rose-entwined mansion. Having 
 mentioned that its colour was red, it is almost superfluous to add 
 that the door and rails were green. 
 
 This was a busy morning at Larkhall Hill. It was the first day
 
 ME. SPONGE'S SPOETING TOUR. 171 
 
 of the scapon of my lord's lioniids mcetinc; there, and the handsome 
 Mrs. Springwheat liad had as much trouble in overhauling- the 
 china and linen, and in dressing the children, preparatory to 
 breakfast, as Springwheat had had in collecting knives and forks, 
 and wine-glasses and tumblers for his department of the entertain- 
 ment, to say nothing of looking after his new tops and cords. 
 "The Hill," as the country people call it, was "full fig" ; and ;i, 
 bright, balmy winter's day softened the atmosphere, and felt as 
 though a summer's day had been shaken out of its place into 
 winter. It is nob often that the English climate is accommodating 
 enough to lend its aid to set off a place to advantage. 
 
 Be that, however, as it may, things looked smiling both without 
 and within. Mrs. Springwheat, by dint of early rising and 
 superintendence, had got things into such a state of forwardness 
 as to be able to adorn herself with a little jaunty cap — curious in 
 microscopic punctures and cherry-coloured ribbon interlarduients, 
 — placed so far back on her finely-shaped head as to proclaim 
 beyond all possibility of cavil that it was there for ornament, and 
 not for the purpose of concealing the liberties of time with her 
 well-kept, clearly-parted, raven-black hair. Liberties of time, 
 forsooth ! Mrs. Springwheat was in the heighday of womanhood ; 
 and though she had presented Springwheat with twins three times 
 in succession, besides an eldest son, she w^as as young, fresh-looking, 
 and finely-figured as she was the day she was married. She was 
 now dressed in a very fine French grey merino, with a very small 
 crochet-work collar, and, of course, capacious muslin sleeves. 
 The high flounces to her dress set off her smart waist co great 
 advantage. 
 
 Mrs. Springwheat had got everything ready, and herself too, 
 by the time Lord Scamperdale's second horseman rode into the 
 vard and demanded a stall for his horse. Knowing how soon the 
 balloon follows the pilot, she immediately ranged the Stunner- 
 tartan-clad children in the breakfast-room ; and as the first whip's 
 rate sounded as he rode round the corner, she sank into an easy- 
 chair by the fire, with a lace-fringed kerchief in the one hand, and 
 the Marh Lane Express in the other. 
 
 " Halloa ! Springey ! " followed by the heavy crack of a whip, 
 announced the arrival of his lordship before the green palings ; 
 and a loud view halloa burst from Jack, as the object of inquiry 
 was seen dancing about the open windowed room above, with his 
 face all flushed with the exertion of pulling on a very tight boot. 
 
 "Come in, my lord ! pray, come in! The missis is below!" 
 exclaimed Springwheat, from the window ; and just at the moment 
 the pad-groom emerged from the house, and ran to his lordship's 
 horse's head. 
 
 His lordship and Jack then dismounted, and gave their hacks
 
 172 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 in charge of the servant ; while Wake, and Fyle, and Archer, who 
 were also of the party, scanned the countenances of the surround- 
 ing idlers, to see in whose hands they had best confide their nags. 
 
 In Lord Scamperdale stamped, followed by his trainband bold, 
 and Maria, the maid, being duly stationed in the passage, threw 
 open the parlour-door on the left, and discovered Mrs, Springwheat 
 sitting in attitude. 
 
 *' Well, my lady, and how are you ? " exclaimed his lordship, 
 advancing gaily, and seizing both her pretty hands as she rose to 
 receive him. " I declare, you look younger and prettier every 
 time I see you." 
 
 " Oh ! my lord," simpered Mrs. Springwheat, " you gentlemen 
 are always so complimentary." 
 
 "Not a bit of it ! " exclaimed his lordship, eyeing her intently 
 through his silver spectacles, for he had been obliged to let Jack 
 have the other pair of tortoiseshell-rimmed ones. 
 
 " Not a bit of it," repeated his lordship. " I always tell Jack 
 you are the handsomest woman in Christendom ; don't I, Jack ? " 
 inquired his Lordship, appealing to his factotum. 
 
 " Yes, my lord," replied Jack, who always swore to whatever his 
 iordship said. 
 
 "By Jove ! " continued his lordship, with a stamp of his foot, 
 " if I could find such a woman I'd marry her to-morrow. Not 
 such women as you to pick up every day. And what a lot of 
 pretty pups ! " exclaimed his lordship, starting back, pretending 
 to be struck with the row of staring, black-haired, black-eyed, 
 half-frightened children. " Now, that's what I call a good entry," 
 continued his lordship, scrutinising them attentively, and pointing 
 them out to Jack : " all dogs — all boys, I mean ? " added he. 
 
 "No, my lord," replied Mrs. Springwheat, laughing, "these 
 are girls," laying her hand on the heads of two of them, who were 
 now full giggle at the idea of being taken for boys. 
 
 "Well, they're devilish handsome, anyhow," replied his lordship, 
 thinking he might as well be done Avith the inspection. 
 
 Springwheat himself now made his appearance, as fine a sample 
 of a man as his wife was of a woman. His face ay as flushed with 
 the exertion of pulling on his tight boots, and his lordship felt the 
 creases the hooks bad left as he shook him by the hand. 
 
 " AVell, Springey," said he, " I was just asking your wife after 
 the new babby." 
 
 "Oh, thank you, my lord," replied Springey, with a shake of 
 his curly head ; "thank you, my lord ; no new babbies, my lord, 
 with wheat below forty, my lord." 
 
 " Well, but you've got a pair of new boots, at all events," 
 observed his lordship, eyeing Spriugwheat's refractory calves 
 bagging over the tops of them.
 
 31 B. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUR. 173 
 
 "'Deed have I!" replied Springwhcat ; "and a pair of 
 iiucommoii awkward tight customers they are," added he, trying 
 to move his feet about in them. 
 
 " Ah ! you should always have a chap to wear your boots a few 
 times before you put them on yourself," observed his lordship. 
 " I never have a pair of tight uns," added he ; "Jack here always 
 does the needful by mine." 
 
 "That's all very well for lords," replied Mr. Springwhcat ; "but 
 ns farmers wear out our boots fast enough ourselves, without any- 
 body to help us." 
 
 "Well, but I s'pose we may as well fall to," observed his 
 lordship, casting his eye upon the well-garnished table. " All 
 these good things are meant to eat, I s'pose," added he : " cakes, 
 and sweets, and jellies without end : and as to your sideboard," 
 said he, turning round and looking at it, "it's a match for any 
 Lord Mayor's. A round of beef, a ham, a tongue, and is that a 
 goose or a turkey ? " 
 
 "A turkey, my lord," replied Si^ringwheat ; "home-fed. my lord."^ 
 
 "Ah, home-fed, indeed ! " ejaculated his lordship, with a shake 
 of the head : "home-fed : wish I could feed at home. The man, 
 who said that 
 
 E'en from the peasant to the lord, 
 The turkey smokes on every board, 
 
 told a big un, for I'm sure none ever smokes on mine." 
 
 " Take a little here to-day, then," observed ]\Ir. Springwhcat, 
 cutting deep into the white breast. 
 
 " I will," replied his lordship, " I will ; and a slice of tongue, 
 too," added he. 
 
 " There are some hot sausingers comir.'," observed ]\Ir. Spring- 
 wheat. 
 
 " You don'^t say so," replied his lordship, apparently thunder- 
 struck at the announcement. " "Well, I must have all three. By 
 Jove, Jack I " said he, appealing to his friend, " but you've lit on 
 your legs coming here. Here's a breakfast fit to set before the 
 Queen — muffins, and crumpets, and cakes. Let me advise you to 
 make the best use of your time, for you have but tw^enty minutes," 
 continued his lordship, looking at his watch, " and muffins and 
 crumpets don't come in your way every day." 
 
 "'Deed they don't," replied Jack, with a grin. 
 
 "Will your lordship take tea or coffee?" asked Mrs. Spring- 
 wheat, who had now taken her scat at the top of the table, behind 
 a richly chased equipage for the distribution of those beverages. 
 
 " 'Pon my word, rephed his lordship," apparently bewildered — 
 " 'pon my word, I don't know what to say. Tea or coffee ? To 
 tell you the truth, I Avas going to take something out of my
 
 174 ME. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUR. 
 
 black friend yonder," nodding to wliero a French bottle like a tall 
 bully was lifting its head above an encircling stand of liqueur- 
 glasses. 
 
 " Suppose you have a little of Avhat we call laced tea, my lord — 
 tea with a dash of brandy in it ? " suggested Mr. Springwheat. 
 
 "Laced tea," repeated his lordship; "laced tea: so I will," 
 rsaid he. " Deuced good idea — deuced good idea," continued he, 
 bringing the bottle, and seating himself on Mrs. Springwheat's 
 right, while his host helped him to a most plentiful plate of turkey 
 and tongue. The table was now about full, as was the room ; the 
 guests just rolling in as they would to a public-house, and helping 
 themselves to whatever they liked. Great was the noise of eating. 
 
 As his lordship was in the full enjoyment of his plateful of 
 meat, he happened to look up, and, the space between him and 
 the window being clear, he saw something that caused him to drop 
 his knife and fork and fall back in his chair as if he was shot. 
 
 " My lord's ill ! " exclaimed Mr. Springwheat, who, being the 
 only man with his nose up, was the first to perceive it. 
 
 " Clap him on the back ! " shrieked Mrs. Springwheat, who 
 ■considered that an infahible recipe for the ailments of children. 
 
 " Oh, Ml. Spraggon ! " exclaimed both, as they rushed to his 
 assistance, " what is the matter with my lord ? " 
 
 " Oh that Mister something ! " gasped his lordship, bending 
 forward in his chair, and venturing another glance through the 
 window. 
 
 Sure enough, there was Sponge, in the act of dismounting from 
 the piebald, and resigning it with becoming dignity to his trusty 
 -groom, Mr. Leather, who stood most respectfully — Parvo in hand 
 — waiting to receive it. 
 
 Mr. Sponge, being of opinion that a red coat is a passport every- 
 where, having stamped the mud sparks otf his boots at the door, 
 swaggered in with the greatest coolness, exclaiming, as he bobbed 
 his head to the lady, and looked round at the company, — 
 
 " What, grubbing away ! grubbing away, eh ? " 
 
 "Won't you take a little refreshment ? " asked Mr. Springwheat, 
 in the hearty way these hospitable fellows welcome everybody. 
 
 " Yes, I w^ill," replied Sponge, turning to the sideboard as 
 though it were an inn. " That's a monstrous fine ham," observed 
 he ; " why doesn't somebody cut it ? " 
 
 "Let me help you to some, sir," replied Mr. Springwheat, 
 seizing the buck-handled knife and fork, and diving deep into the 
 rich red meat with the knife. 
 
 Mr. Sponge having got two bountiful slices, with a knotch of 
 home-made brown bread, and some mustard on his plate, now 
 made for the table, and elbowed himself into a place between Mr. 
 Fossick and Sparks, immediately opposite Mr. Spraggon.
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 175 
 
 " Good moniing," said he to that worthy, as he saw the whites 
 of his eyes shownng tlirongh his spectaeles. 
 
 " Morniri' " muttered Jack, as if his mouth was either too full 
 to articulate, or he didu't want to have anything to say to Mr. 
 Sponge. 
 
 " Here's a fine hunting morning my lord," observed Sponge, 
 addressincT himself to his lordship, who sat on Jack's left. 
 
 " Here's a very fine hunting morning, my lord," repeated 
 Sponge, not getting an answer to his first assertion. 
 
 "Is it?" blurted his lordship, pretending to be desperately 
 busy with the contents of his plate, though in reality his appetite 
 was gone. 
 
 A dead pause now ensued, interrupted only by the clattering of 
 knives and forks, and the occasional exclamations of parties in 
 want of some particular article of food. A chill had come over 
 the scene — a chill whose cause was apparent to every one, except 
 the worthy host and hostess, who had not heard of Mr. Sponge's 
 descent upon the country. They attributed it to his lordship's 
 indisposition, and Mr. Springwheat endeavoured to cheer him up 
 with the prospect of sport. 
 
 " There's a brace, if not a leash, of foxes in cover, my lord," 
 observed he, seeing his lordship was only playing with the contents 
 of his plate. 
 
 " Is there ? " exclaimed his lordship, brightening up : " let's be 
 at 'em ! " added he, jumping up and diving under the side table 
 for his flat hat and heavy iron hammer-headed whip. " Good 
 morning, my dear Mrs. Springwheat," exclaimed he, putting on his 
 hat and seizing both her soft fat-fingered hands and squeezing 
 them ardently. "Good morning, my dear Mrs. Springwheat," 
 repeated he, adding, " By Jove ! if ever there Avas an "angel in 
 petticoats, you're her ; I'd give a hundred pounds for such a wife as 
 you ! I'd give a thousand pounds for such a wife as you ! By the 
 ■powers ! I'd give five thousand pounds for such a wife as you ! " 
 With which asseverations his lordship stamjicd away in his great 
 •clumsy boots, amidst the ill-suiopressed laughter of the party. 
 
 " No hurry, gentlemen — no hurry," observed Mr. Springwheat, 
 as some of the keen ones were preparing to follow, and began 
 sorting their hats, and making the mistakes incident to their 
 "being all the same shape. " No hurry, sir — no hurry, sir," 
 repeated Springwheat, addressing Mr. Sponge specifically ; " his 
 lordship will have a talk to his hounds yet, and his horse is still 
 (in the stable." 
 
 With this assurance Mr. Sponge resumed his seat at the table, 
 where several of the hungry ones were plying their- knives and 
 forks as if they were indeed breaking their fasts. 
 
 " Well, old boy, and how are you ? " asked Sponge, as the
 
 17G MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 ^vhites of Jack's eyes again settled upon him, on the latter's look- 
 ing up from his plateful of sausages. 
 
 " Nicely. How are you ? " asked Jack. 
 
 " Nicely too," replied Sponge, in the laconic way men speak 
 who have been engaged in some common enterprise — getting 
 drank, pelting people with rotten eggs, or anything of that sort. 
 
 " Jaw and the ladies well ? " asked Jack, in the same strain. 
 
 " Oh, nicely," said Sponge. 
 
 " Take a glass of cherry-brandy," exclaimed the hospitable Mr. 
 Springwheat : " nothing like a drop of something for steadying 
 the nerves." 
 
 " Presently," replied Sponge, " presently ; meanwhile I'll trouble 
 the missis for a cup of coffee. Cotlee without sugar," said Sponge, 
 addressing the lady. 
 
 " With pleasure," replied Mrs. Springwheat, glad to get a little 
 custom for her goods. Most of the gentlemen had been at the 
 bottles and sideboard. 
 
 Springwheat, seeing Mr. Sponge, the only person who, as a 
 stranger, there was any occasion for him to attend to, in the care 
 of his wife, now slipped out of the room, and mounting his five- 
 yea I'-old horse, whose tail stuck out like the long horn of a coach, 
 as his ploughman groom said, rode off to join the hunt. 
 
 " By the powers, but those are capital sarsingers ! " observed 
 Jack, smacking his lips and eating away for hard life. " Just 
 look if my lord's on his horse yet," added he to one of the 
 children, Avho had begun to hover round the table and dive their 
 lingers into the sweets. 
 
 "No," replied the child ; "he's still on foot, playing with the dogs." 
 
 " Here goes, then," said Jack, " for another plate," suiting the 
 action to the word, and running with his plate to the sausage-dish. 
 
 " Have a hot one," exclaimed Mrs. Springwheat, adding, " it 
 will be done in a minute." 
 
 " No, thank ye," replied Jack, with a shake of the head, adding, 
 " I might be done in a minute too." 
 
 " He'll waitfor you, I suppose ? " observed Sponge, addressing Jack. 
 
 " Not so clear about that," replied Jack, gobbhng away ; " time 
 and my lord wait for no man. But it's hardly the half-hour yet," 
 added he, looking at his watch. 
 
 He then fell to with the voracity of a hound after hunting. 
 Sponge, too, made the most of his time, as did two or three others 
 who still remained. 
 
 "Now fur the jumping-powder ! " at length exclaimed Sponge, 
 looking round for the bottle. " What shall it be, cherry or neat?" 
 contiuued he, pointing to the two. 
 
 " Cherry for me," replied Jack, squinting and eating away 
 without looking up.
 
 UB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUn. 177 
 
 " I say iiecd,"" rejoined Sponge, helping himself out of the 
 French bottle. 
 
 " You'll be hard to hold after that," observed Jack, as he eyed 
 Sponge tossing it off. 
 
 " I hope my horse won't," replied Sponge, remembering he w.^.d 
 going to ride the resolute chestnut. 
 
 *' You'll show us the way, I dare say," observed Jack. 
 
 " Shouldn't wonder," replied Sponge, helping himself to a second 
 glass. 
 
 " What! at it again ! " exclaimed Jack, addhig, "Take care you 
 don't ride over my lord." 
 
 " I'll take care of the old file," said Sponge ; " it wouldn't do to 
 kill the goose that lays the golden what-do-j'e-call-'cms, you know 
 -he, he, he ! " 
 
 " No," chuckled Jack ; " 'deed it wouldn't — must make the 
 most of him." 
 
 " What sort of a humour is he in to-day ?" aslvcd Sponge. 
 
 " Middlin'," replied Jack, " middlin' ; he'll abuse you most 
 likely, but that you mustn't mind." 
 
 "Not I," replied Sponge, who was used to that sort Oi thing. 
 
 " You mustn't mind me either," observed Jack, sweeping the 
 last piece of sausage into his mouth with his knife, and jumping 
 up from the table. " When his lordship rows I row," added he, 
 diving under the side-table for his flat hat. 
 
 ^^ Hark ! there's the horn !" exclaimed Sponge, rushing to the 
 window. 
 
 " So there is," responded Jack, standing transfixed on one leg 
 to the spot. 
 
 " By the powers, they're away 1 " exclaimed Sponge, as his lord- 
 ship was seen hat in hand careering over the meadow, beyond the 
 cover, with the tail hounds straining to overtake their flying 
 comrades. Twang — twang — twang went Frostyface's horn ; 
 crack — crack — crack — went the ponderous thongs of tlic whips ; 
 shouts, and yells, and yeli)s, and Avhoops, and holloas, proclaimed 
 the usual wild excitement of this |)rivileged period of the chase. 
 All was joy save among the gowmands assembled at the door — 
 they looked blank indeed. 
 
 "What a sclW" exclaimed Sponge, in disgust, who, with Jack, 
 saw the hopelessness of the case. 
 
 " Y'onder he goes ! " exclaimed a lad, who had run up from the 
 cover to see the hunt from the rising ground. 
 
 " Where ? " exclaimed Sponge, straining his eye-balls. 
 
 " There ! " said the lad, pointing due south. " D'ye sec Tommy 
 Claychop's pasture ? Now he's through the hedge and into Mrs. 
 Starveland's turnip-field, making right for Bramblebrake Wood on 
 the hiU." 
 
 N
 
 178 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 " So he is," said Sponge, who now caught sight of the fox 
 emerging from the turnips on to a grass-field beyond. 
 
 Jack stood staring through his great spectacles, without deigning 
 a word. 
 
 " What shall we do ? " aslced Sponge. 
 
 "Do?" replied Jack, with his chin still up; "go home, I 
 should think." 
 
 " There's a man down ! " exclaimed a groom, who formed one 
 of the group, as a dark-coated rider and horse measured their 
 length on a pasture. 
 
 " It's Mr. Sparks," said anothar ; adding, " he's always rolling 
 about." 
 
 " Lor', look at the parson ! " exclaimed a third, as Blossomnose 
 Avas seen gathering his horse and setting up his shoulders pre- 
 paratory to riding at a gate. 
 
 •' "Well done, old 'un ! " roared a fourth, as the horse flew over 
 it, a])parently without an eCbrt. 
 
 "Now for Tom I " cried several, as the second whip went 
 galloping up on the line of the gate. 
 
 " Ah ! he won't have it ! " was the cry, as the horse suddenly 
 stopped short, nearly shooting Tom over his head. " Try him 
 again — try him again— take a good run — that's him — there, he's 
 over ! " Avas the cry, as Tom flourished his arm in the air on 
 landing. 
 
 " Look ! there's old Tommy Baker, the rat-ketchcr I " cried 
 another, as a man went workin;.;- his arms and legs on an old white 
 pony across a fiiUow. 
 
 " Ah, Tommy ! Tommy ! you'd better shut up," observed 
 another : " a pig could go as fast at that." 
 
 And so they criticised the laggers. 
 
 " How did my lord get his horse ? " asked Spraggon of the 
 groom who had brought them on, who now joined the eye- 
 straining group at the door. 
 
 " It was taken down to him at the cover," replied the man. 
 " My lord went in on foot, and the horse went round the back 
 way. The horse wasn't there half a minute before he was wanted ; 
 for no sooner were the hounds in at one end than out popped the 
 fox at t'other. Sich a whopper ! — biggest fox that ever was seen." 
 
 "They are all the biggest foxes that ever were seen," snapped Mr. 
 Sponge. " I'll be bound he was not a bit bigger than common." 
 
 "I'll be bound not, either," growled Mr. Spraggon, squinting 
 frightfufly at the man, adding, " go, get me my hack, and don't 
 be talkin' nonsense there." 
 
 Our friends then remounted their hacks and parted company in 
 very moderate humours, feeling fully satisfied that his lordship 
 had done it on purpose.
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 179 
 
 CHAPTEK XXVIIT. 
 
 THE FINEST RUN THAT KVEIl WAS SEEN ! 
 
 00— EAY, Jack ! ffoo — 
 
 Tray ! " exclaimed 
 Lord Scamperdale, 
 bursting into his 
 sanctum, where Mr. 
 Spraggon sat 
 in his hunting 
 coat and sHj)- 
 pcrs, spelh'ng 
 away at a 
 second - hand 
 copy of UeWft 
 Life by the 
 light of a me- 
 lancholy mould 
 candle. " Hoo- 
 ray, Jack ! hoo- 
 ray ! "■ repeated 
 lie, waving tha', 
 proud trophy, 
 a splendid fox's 
 brush, over his 
 grizzly head. 
 
 His lordship 
 was the picture 
 of delight. He 
 had had a 
 tremendous run — the finest run that ever was seen ! His hounds 
 had behaved to perfection ; his horse— though he had downed 
 ]n'm three times — had carried him well, and his lordship stood 
 with his cro^vnless flat hat in his hand, and ono coat lap in the 
 pocket of the other — a grinning, exulting, self-satisfied specimen 
 of a happy Englishman. 
 
 " Lor ! what a sight you are ! " observed Jack, turning the 
 light of the candle upon his lordship's dirty person. " Why, I 
 declare you're an inch thick with mud," he added : " mud from 
 head to foot," he continued, working the light up and down. 
 
 "Xever mind the mud, you old badger ! " roared his lordship, 
 still waving the brush over his head : " never mind the mud, yon 
 
 N 2
 
 180 MB. SPONGE'S SPOUTING TOUR. 
 
 old badger ; the mud'll come off, or may stay on ; but such a run 
 as we've had does not come off every day." 
 
 " Well, I'm glad you have had a run," replied Jack. " I'm 
 glad you have had a run ; " adding, "I was afraid at one time 
 that your day's sport was spoiled." 
 
 " Well, do you know," replied his lordship, " when I saw thab 
 unrighteous snob, I was near sick. If it were possible for a man 
 to faint, I should have thought I was going to do so. At first I 
 thought of goiug home, taking the hounds avv'ay too ; then I 
 thought of going myself and leaving the hounds ; tlien 1 thought 
 if I left the hounds it would only make the sinful scaramouch 
 more outrageous, and I should be sitting on pins and needles till 
 they came home, thinking how he was crashing among them. 
 Next I thought of drawing all the unlikely places in the country,. 
 and making a blank day of it. Then I thought that would only 
 be like cutting off my nose to spite my face. Then I didn't 
 know what on earth to do. At last, when I saw the critter's 
 great pecker steadily down in his plate, I thought I would try 
 and steal a march upon him, and get away with my fox while 
 he Avas feeding ; and, oh ! how thankful I was when I looked 
 back from Bramblebrake Hill, and saw no signs of him in the 
 distance." 
 
 "It wasn't likely you'd sec him," interrupted Jack, "for ho 
 never got away from the front door. I twigged what you were 
 after, and kept him up in talk about his horses and his ridin' till I 
 saw you were fairly away." 
 
 " You did well," exclaimed Lord Scamperdalc, patting Jack on 
 the back ; " you did well, my old buck-o'-wa\ ; and, by Jove I 
 we'll have a bottle of port — a bottle of port, as I live,'" repeated 
 his lordship, as if he had made up his mind to do a most magnifi- 
 cent act. 
 
 " But what's happened you behind ! — what's happened you 
 behind ? " asked Jack, as his lordship turned to the fire, and 
 exhibited his docked tail. 
 
 " Oh, hang the coat ! —it's neither here nor there," rephed his 
 lordship ; — " hat neither," he added, exhibiting its crushed ]iro- 
 portions. "Old Blossomnose did the coat ; and as to the hat, I 
 did it myself — at least, old Daddy Longlegs and I did it between 
 us. We got into a grass-field, of which they had cut a few roods 
 of fence, just enough to tempt a man out of a very deep lane, and 
 away we sailed, in the enjoyment of fine sound i-ward, with the 
 rest of the field plunging and floundering, and holding and 
 grinning, and thinking what fools they were for not following my 
 example, — when, lo and behold ! I got to the bottom of the field, 
 and found there was no way out ; — no chance of a bore through 
 the great thick, high hedge, except at a branchy willow, where
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 181 
 
 there was just enough room to squeeze a horse through, provided 
 he didn't rise at the ditch on the far side. At first I ^Yas for 
 getting off ; indeed, had my right foot out of the stirrup, when 
 the hounds dashed forrard with such energy, — looking like 
 running, — and remembering the tremendous climb I should have 
 to get on to old Daddy's back again, and seeing some of the nasty 
 jealous chaps in the lane eyeing me through the fence, thinking 
 how I was floored, I determined to stay where I was ; and 
 gathering tlie horse together, tried to squeeze through the hole. 
 Well, he went shuffling and sliding down to it, as though he were 
 conscious of the difficulty, and poked his head quietly past the 
 tree, Avhen, getting a sight of the ditch on the far side, he rose, 
 and banged my head against the branch above, crashing my hat 
 right over my eyes, aud in that position he carried me through 
 blindfold." 
 
 "Indeed!" exclaimed Jack, turning his spectacles full upon 
 his lordship, and adding, "it's lucky he didn't crack your 
 crown." 
 
 " It is," assented his lordship, feeling his head to satisfy himself 
 that he had not done so. 
 
 " And how did you lose your tail ? " asked Jack, having got 
 the information about the hat. 
 
 "The tail ! ah, the tail !" replied his lordship, feeling behind, 
 where it wasn't ; " I'll tell you how that was : you see we went 
 nway like blazes from Spring-wheat's gorse — nice gorse it is, aud 
 nice woman he has for a wife — but, however, that's neither here 
 nor there ; what I was going to tell you about was the run, and 
 how I lost my tail. AVell, we got away like winking ; no sooner 
 "Were the hounds in on one side than away went the fox on the 
 other. Not a soul shouted till he was clean gone ; hats in the air 
 was all that told his departure. The fox tlius had time to run 
 matters through his mind — think whether he should go to 
 Ravenscar Craigs, or make for the main earths at Painscastio 
 Orove. He chose the latter, doubtless feeling himself strong and 
 full of running ; and if we had chosen his ground for him he 
 could not have taken us a finer line. He went as straight as an 
 arrow through Bramblebrake Wood, and then away down the hill 
 over those great enormous pastures to Haselbury Park, which he 
 skirted, leaving Evercreech Green on the left, pointing as if for 
 Dormston Dean. Here he was chased by a cur, and the hounds 
 were brought to a momentary check. Frosty, however, was well 
 up, and a hat being held up on Hothersell Hill, he clapped for'ard 
 and laid the hounds on beyond. We then viewed the fox sailing 
 away over Eddlethorp Downs, still pointing for Painscastle Grove, 
 Avith the Hamertou Brook lighting up here and there in the 
 distance.
 
 182 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUB. 
 
 " The field, I should tell you, were fairly taken by surprise. 
 There wasn't a man ready for a start ; my horse had only just 
 come down. Fossick was on foot, drawing his girths ; Fyle was 
 striking a light to smoke a cigar on his hack ; Blossomnose and 
 Capon's grooms were fistling and wisping their horses ; Dribble, 
 as usual, was all behind ; and altogether there was such a scene of 
 hurry and confusion as never was seen. 
 
 " As they came to the brook they got somewhat into line, and 
 one saw who was there. Five or six of us charged it together, 
 and two went under. One was Springwheat on his bay, who was 
 somewhat pumped out ; the other was said to be Hook. Old 
 Daddy Longlegs skimmed it like a swallow, and, getting his hind- 
 legs well under him, shot over the pastures beyond, as if he was 
 going upon turf. The hounds all this time had been running, or 
 rather racing, nearly mute. They now, however, began to feel 
 for the scent ; and, as they got upon the cold, bleak grounds 
 ;vbove Somerton Quarries, they were fairly brought to their noses. 
 Uncommon glad I was to see them ; for ten minutes more, at the 
 pace they had been going, would have shaken off every man Jack 
 of us. As it was, it was bellows to mend ; and Calcott's roarer 
 roared as surely roarer never roared before. You could hear him 
 half a mile off. AVe had barely time, however, to turn our horses 
 to the wind, and ease them for a few moments, before the pace 
 began to mend, and from a catching to a holding scent they again 
 poured across Wallingburn pastures, and away to Roughacres 
 Court. It was between these places that I got my head duntled 
 into my hat," continued his lordship, knocking the crownless hat 
 agaidst his mud-stained knee. "However, I didn't care a button 
 though I'd not worn it above two years, and it might have lasted 
 me a long time about home ; but misfortunes seldom come singly, 
 and I was soon to have another. The few of us that were left 
 were all for the lanes, and very accommodating the one between 
 Newton Bushell and the Forty-foot Bank was, the hounds running 
 parallel within a hundred yards on the left for nearly a mile. 
 AYhen, however, we goi to the old water-mill in the fields below, 
 the fox made a bend to the left, as if changing his mind, and 
 making for Ncwtonbroome Woods, and we were obliged to try the 
 fortunes of war in the fields. The first fence we came to looked 
 like nothing, and there was a weak place right in my line, that I 
 rode at, expecting the horse would easily bore through a few twigs 
 that crossed the upper part of it. These, however, happened to 
 be twisted, to stop the gap, and not having put on enough steam, 
 they checked him as he rose, and brought him right down on his 
 head in the broad ditch, on the far side. Old Blossomnose, who 
 was following close behind, not making any allowance for falls, 
 was in the air before I was well down, and his horse came with a
 
 3IE. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 183 
 
 forefoot into my pocket, and tore the lap clean off by the skirt ; " 
 his lordship exhibiting the lap as he spoke. 
 
 " It's your new coat, too," observed Jack, examining it with 
 concern as he spoke. 
 
 " 'Deed, is it ! " replied his lordship, with a shake of the head. 
 " 'Deed, is it ! That's the consequence of having gone out to 
 breakfast. If it had been to-morrow, for instance, I should have 
 had number two on, or maybe number three," his lordship having 
 coats of eveiy shade and grade, from stainless scarlet down to 
 tattered mulberry colour. 
 
 "It'll mend, however," observed his lordship, taking it back 
 from Jack ; " it'll mend, however," he said, fitting it round to the 
 skirt as he spoke. 
 
 "Oh, nicely ! " replied Jack ; "it's come off clean by the skirt. 
 But what said Old Blossom ? " inquired Jack. 
 
 " Oh, he was full of apologies and couldn't helps it as usual," 
 replied his lordship ; " he Avas down, too, I should tell you, with 
 his horse on his left leg ; but there wasn't much time for apologies 
 or explanation, for the hounds were running pretty sharp, con- 
 sidering how long they had been at work, and there was the chance 
 of others jumping upon us if we didn't get out of the way, so we 
 both scrambled up as quick as we could and got into our places 
 again." 
 
 " Which way did you go, then ? " asked Jack, who had listened 
 with the attention of a man who knows every yard of the 
 country. 
 
 " Well," continued his lordship, casting back to where he got 
 his fall, " the fox crossed the Coatenburn township, picking <ill 
 the plough and bad-scenting ground as he went, but it was of no 
 use, his fate was sealed ; and though he began to run short, and 
 dodge and thread the hedge-rows, they hunted him yard by yard 
 till he again made an etlbrt for his life, and took over Mossingburn 
 Moor, pointing for Penrose Tower on the hill. Here Frosty's 
 horse, Little Jumper, declined, and we left him standing in the 
 middle of the moor with a stiff neck, kicking and staring and 
 looking mournfully at his flanks. Daddy Longlegs, too, had 
 begun to sob, and in vain I looked back in hopes of seeing Jack- 
 a-Dandy coming up. ' Well,' said I to myself, ' I've got a pair of 
 good strong boots on, and I'll finish the run on foot "but I'll see 
 it ; ' when, just at the moment, the pack broke from scent to 
 view, and rolled the fox up hke a hedge-hog amongst them." 
 
 " Well done ! " exclaimed Jack, adding, " that was a run with a 
 vengeance ! " 
 
 " Wasn't it ? " replied his lordship, rubbing his hands and 
 stamping ; " the finest run that ever was seen — the finest run that 
 ever was seen ! "
 
 184 2IE. SPONGE'S SFOBTING TOUR. 
 
 " AYliy, it couldn't be less than twelve miles from point to point," 
 observed Jack, thinking- it over. 
 
 '• Not a yard," replied his lordship, " not a yard, and from 
 fourteen to fifteen as the hounds ran." 
 
 *' It would be all that," assented Jack. " How long were you 
 in doing it ? " he asked. 
 
 "An hour and forty minutes." replied his lordship ; "an honr 
 and forty minutes from the find to the finish ; " adding, " I'll 
 stick the brush and present it to Mrs. Springwheat." 
 
 " It's to be hoped Springy's out of the brook," observed Jack. 
 
 " To be hoped so," replied his lordship ; thinking if he wasu't, 
 whether he should marry Mrs. Springwheat or not. 
 
 Well now, after all that, we fancy we hear our fair friends 
 exclaim, " Thank goodness, there's an end of Lord Scampcrdalc 
 and his hunting ; he has had a good run, and will rest quiec for a 
 time ; we shall now hear something of AmeHa and Emily, and the 
 doings at Jawleyford (Jourt." j\listaken lady ! If you are lucky 
 enough to marry an out-and-out fox-huutcr, you will find that a 
 g;ood run is only adding fuel to the fire, only making him anxious 
 for more. Lord Seamperdale's sporting fire was in full blaze. His 
 bumps and his thumps, his rolls, and his scrambles, only brought 
 out the beauties and perfections of the thing. He cared nothing 
 ibr his hat-crown, no ; nor for his coat-lap cither. Nay, he 
 wouldn't have cared if it had been made into a spencer. 
 
 "What's to-day ? Monday," said his lordship, answering him- 
 self. " Monday," he repeated ; " Monday — bubble-and-squeak, I 
 guess — sooner it's ready the better, for I'm half famished — didn't 
 do half justice to that nico breakfast at Springy's. That nasty 
 brown-booted butler completely threw me off my feed. By the way, 
 what became of the chestnut- booted animal ? " 
 
 " Went home," replied Jack ; " fittest place for him." 
 
 " Hope he'll stay there," rejoined his lordship. " No fear of his 
 being at the roads to-morrow, is there ? " 
 
 "None," replied Jack. "I told him it was quite an impossible 
 distance from him, twenty miles at least." 
 
 " That's grand ! " exclaimed his lordship ; " that's grand I 
 Then we'll have a rare, ding-dong hey — away pop. There'll be 
 no end of those nasty, jealous, Putfington dogs out ; and if we 
 have half such a scent as we had to-day, Ave'll sew some of them 
 up, we'll show 'em what hunting is. Now," he added, " if you'll 
 go and get the bottle of port. I'll clean myself, and then we'll 
 have dinner as quick as wc can.'*
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SFOETING TOUR. 
 
 185 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 TflE FAITHFUL GROOM. 
 
 E left our IVieud Mr. 
 ' Spooge Avending- his 
 way home moodily, 
 after having lost his 
 day at Larkhall Hill. 
 Some of our readers 
 will, perhaps, say, why 
 didn't he clap on, and 
 try to catch up the 
 hounds at a check, 
 or at all events rejoin 
 them for an afternoon 
 ibx ? Gentle reader ! 
 Mr. Sponge did not 
 linnt on those terms ; 
 he was a front-rank 
 or a "nowhere" man. 
 and indejjcndently of 
 catching hounds up, 
 being always a fatigu- 
 ing and liazardous 
 speculation, especially 
 on a fine-scenting day, the exertion would have taken more out of 
 his horse than would have been desirable for successful display in 
 a second run. Mr. Sponge, therefore, determined to go home. 
 
 As he sauntered along, musing on the mishaps of the chase, 
 wondering how Miss Jawleyford would look, and playing himself 
 Jin occasional tune with his spur against his stirrup, who should 
 come trotting behind him but jMr. Leather on the redoubtable 
 chestnut ? Mr. Sponge beckoned him alongside. The horse 
 looked blooming and bright ; his eye was clear and cheerful, and 
 ihere was a sort of springy graceful action that looked like easy 
 going. 
 
 One always fancies a horse most with another man on him. 
 We see all his good points without feeling his imperfections — his 
 trippings, or startings, or snatchings, or borings, or roughness of 
 action, and Mr. Sponge proceeded to make a silent estimate of 
 Multum-in-Parvo's qualities as he trotted gently along on the 
 grassy side of the somewhat wide road. 
 
 r;oiNo TO rovKR.
 
 186 ML. SPONGE'S SPOETING TOUE. 
 
 " By Jove ! it's a pity but his lordship had seen him," thought 
 Sponge, as the emuhition of companionship made the horse 
 gradually increase his pace, and steal forward with the lightest 
 freest action imaginable. " If he Avas but all right," continued 
 Sponge, with a shake of the head, " he would be worth any money, 
 for he has the strength of a dray-horse, with the symmetry and 
 action of a racer." 
 
 Then Sponge thought he shouldn't have an opportunity of 
 showing the horse till Thursday, for Jack had satisfied him that 
 the next day's meet was quite beyond distance from Jawlcyford 
 Court, 
 
 " It's a bore," said he, rising in his stirrups, and tickling the 
 piebald with his spurs, as if he were going to set-to for a race. 
 He thought of having a trial of speed with the chestnut, up a 
 slip of turf they were now approaching ; but a sudden thought 
 struck him, and he desisted. " These horses have done nothing 
 to-day," he said ; " why shouldn't I send the chestnut on for 
 to-morrow ? " 
 
 " Do you know where the cross-roads are ?" he asked his groom. 
 
 " Cross-roads, cross-roads — what cross-roads ? " i-eplied Leather. 
 
 " Where the hounds meet to-morrow." 
 
 "Oh, the cross-roads at Somethin' Burn," rejoined Leather, 
 thoughtfully,—-" no, 'deed, I don't," he addded. "From all 
 'counts, they seem to be somewhere on the far side of the world." 
 
 That was not a very encouraging answer ; and feeling it would 
 require a good deal of persuasion to induce Mr. Leather to go in 
 search of them without clothing and the necessary requirements 
 for his horses, Mr. Sponge went trotting on, in hopes of seeing some 
 place where he might get a sight of the map of the county. So they 
 ])rocceded in silence, till a sudden turn of the road brought them 
 to the spire and housetops of the little agricultural town of 
 BarleyboU. It differed nothing from the ordinary run of small 
 towns. It had a pond at one end, an inn in the middle, a church 
 at one side, a f\ishionable milliner from London, a merchant tailor 
 from the same place, and a hardware shop or two where they also 
 sold treacle, Dartford gunpowder, pocket-handkerchiefs, sheep-nets, 
 patent medicines, cheese, blacking, marbles, mole-traps, men's 
 hats, and other miscellaneous articles. It was quite enough of a 
 town, however, to raise a presumption that there would be a map 
 of the county at the inn. 
 
 " We'll just put the horses up for a few minutes, I think," said 
 Sponge, turning into the stable-yard at the end of the lied Lion 
 Hotel and Posting House ; adding, " I want to write a letter, and 
 perhaps," said he, looking at his watch, " you may be wanting 
 your dinner." 
 
 Having resigned his horse to his servant, Mr. Sponge walked
 
 3IR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 187 
 
 in, receiving the marked attention usually paid to a red coat. 
 Mine host left his bar, ^Yhere he was engaged in the usual occupa- 
 tion of drinking with customers for the " good of the house." A 
 map of the county, of such liberal dimensions, was speedily pro- 
 duced, as would have terrified any one unaccustomed to distances 
 and scales on which maps aie laid down. For instance, Jawleyford 
 Court, as the crow flies, was the same distance from the cross-roads 
 at Dallington Burn as York was from London, in a map of England 
 hanging beside it. 
 
 " It's a goodish way," said Sponge, getting a lighter off the 
 chimney-piece, and measuring the distances. " From Jawleyford 
 Court to Billingsborough Else, say seven miles ; from Billings- 
 borough Rise to Downington AVharf, other seven ; from Do\vning- 
 ton Wharf to Shapcot, which seems the nearest point, will be — say 
 five or six, perhaps — nineteen or twenty in all. Well, that's my 
 work," he observed, scratching his head, " at least, my hack's ; 
 and from here, home," he continued, measuring away as he spoke, 
 " will be twelve or thirteen. Well, that's nothing," he said. 
 " Now for the horse," he continued, again applying the lighter 
 in a different direction. " From here to Hardington, will be, say 
 eight miles ; from Hardington to Bewley, other five ; eight and 
 five are thirteen ; and there, I should say, he might sleep. That 
 would leave ten or twelve miles for the morning ; nothing for a 
 hack hunter ; 'specially such a horse as that, and one that's done 
 nothing for I don't know how long," 
 
 Altogether, Mr. Sponge determined to try it, especially consi- 
 dering that if he didn't get Tuesday, there would be nothing till 
 Thursday ; and he was not the man to keep a hack hunter 
 standing idle. 
 
 Accordingly he sought Mr. Leather, whom he found busily 
 engaged in the servants' apartment, with a cold round of beet and 
 a foaming flagon of ale before him. 
 
 " Leather," he said, in a tone of authority, "Fll hunt to-morrow 
 — ride the horse I should have ridden to-day." 
 
 " Where at ?" asked Leather, diving his fork into a bottle of 
 pickles, and fishing out an onion. 
 
 "The cross-roads," replied Sponge. 
 
 "The cross-roads be fifty mile from here ! " cried Leather. 
 
 "Nonsense ! " rejoined Sponge ; " I've just measured the distance. 
 It's nothing of the sort." 
 
 "How far do you make it, then ?" asked Leather, tucking in 
 the beef, 
 
 " Why, from here to Hardington is about six, and from Hard- 
 ington to Bewley, four — ten in all," replied Sponge. " You can 
 stay at Bewley ail night, and then it is but a few miles on in the 
 morninfT."
 
 188 
 
 ME. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 " And whativer am I to do for clothiu' ? "' asked Leather, 
 adding,-, " I've nothin' with me — nothiu' uonther for oss nor 
 man." 
 
 " Oh, the ostler '11 lend you what you Avanl," replied Sponge, in 
 a tone of determination ; adding-, "you can make shift for one 
 night, surely ? " 
 
 MR. I.KATllKR AND SPONGE HAVE A DIFFERENCE fiF OI'INTON. 
 
 " One night, surely ! " retorted Leather. " D'ye think an oss 
 can't be ruined in one night ? — humph ! " 
 
 " I'll risk it," said Sponge. 
 
 "But I won't," replied Leather, blowing the foam from the 
 tankard, and taking a long swig at the ale. " I thinks I knows 
 my duty to my gov'nor better nor that," continued he, setting it 
 down. " I'll not sec his waluable 'unters stowed away in pigsties 
 — not I, indeed."
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. ISO 
 
 The fact was, T/cather had an invitation to sup with the servants 
 at Jawlcjford Court that ni.trht, and lie was nut going to be done 
 out of his engagement, especially as Mr. Sponge only allowed him 
 two shillings a day for expenses wherever he was. 
 
 " AW'll, you're a cool hand, anyhow," observed ]\Ir. Sponge, quite 
 taken by surprise. 
 
 " Cool 'and, or not cool 'and," replied Leather, munching away, 
 "I'll do my duty to my mas:er. I'm not one o' your coatless, 
 characterless scamps wot 'ang about livery-stables ready to do 
 anything they're bid. No, Sir, no," he continued, pronging 
 another onion ; " / have some regard for the hinterest o' my 
 master. I'll do my duty in the station o' life in which I'm placed, 
 and won't be 'fraid to face no man." So saying Mr. Leather cut 
 himself a grand circumference of l)cef. 
 
 Mr. Sponge was taken aback, for he had never seen a conscien 
 tious livery-stable helper before, and did not believe in the exist- 
 ence of such articles. However, here was Mr. Leather assuming 
 a virtue, whether he had it or noD ; and ]\Ir, Sponge being in the 
 man's power, of course durst not quarrel with him. It was clear 
 that Leather would not go ; and the question was, what should 
 Mr. Sponge do? "Why shouldn't I go myself?" he though;-, 
 shutting liis eyes, as if to keep his faculties free from outward 
 distraction. He ran the thing quickly over in his mind, " What 
 Leather can do, I can do," he said, remembering that a groom 
 never demeaned himself by Avorking where there was an ostler. 
 "These things I have on will do quite well for to-morrow, at 
 least among such rough-and-ready dogs as the Flat Hat men,, 
 who seem as if they had their clothes pitched on Avith a fork." 
 
 His mind Avas quickly made up, and calling for pen, ink, and 
 paper, he Avrote a hasty note to JaAvleyford, explaining Avhy he- 
 would not cast up till the morrow ; he then got the chestnut out 
 of the stable, and desiring the ostler to giA'o the note to Leather, 
 and tell him to go home wath his hack, he just rode out of the 
 yard without giving Leather the chance of saying " nay." He 
 then jogged on at a pace suitable to the accurate measurement of 
 th-3 distance. 
 
 The horse seemed to like having Sponge's red coat on better 
 that Leather's brown, and champed his bit, and stepped away 
 quite gaily. 
 
 "Confound it ! " exclaimed Sponge, laying the rein on its neck, 
 and leaning forward to pat him ; " it's a pity but you Avei'c always 
 in this humour — you'd be worth a mint of money if you were." 
 He then resumed his scat in the saddle, and bethought him how 
 he would show them the way on the morrow. " If he doesn't 
 beat every horse in the field, it shan't be my fault," thought he ; 
 and thereupon he gave him the slightest possible touch with
 
 190 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 the spur, and the horse shot away up a strip of grass like an 
 arrow. 
 
 " By Jove, but you can go ! " said he, pulling up as the grass 
 ran out upon the hard road. 
 
 Thus he reached the village of Hardington, which he quickly 
 cleared, and took the well-defined road to Bewlcy — a road adorned 
 with mile-stones and set out with a liberal horse-track at either 
 side. 
 
 Day had closed ere our friend reached Bewley, but the children 
 returning from school, and the country folks leaving their work, 
 kept assuring him that he was on the right line, till the lights of 
 the town, bursting upon him as he rounded the hill above, shoAved 
 him the end of his journey. 
 
 The best stalls at the head inn — the Bull's Head— were all full, 
 several trusty grooms having arrived with the usual head-stalls and 
 rolls of clothing on their horses, denoting the object of their 
 mission. Most of the horses had been in some hours, and were 
 now standing well littered up with sti-aw, while the grooms were 
 in the tap talking over their masters, discussing the merits of their 
 horses, or arguing whether Lord Scamperdale was mad or not. 
 They had just come to the conclusion that his lordship was mad, 
 but not incapable of taking care of his affairs, when the trampling 
 of Sponge's horse's feet drew them out to see who was coming next. 
 Sponge's red coat at once told his tale, and procured him the usual 
 attention. 
 
 ]\Ir. Leather's fear of the want of clothing for the valuable 
 hunter proved wholly groundless, for each groom having come 
 with a plentiful supply for his own horse, all the inn stock was at 
 the service of the stranger. The stable, to be sure, was not quite 
 so good as might be desired, but it was warm and water-tight, and 
 the corn was far from bad. Altogether, Mr. Sponge thought he 
 would do very well, and, having seen to his horse, proceeded to 
 choose between beef-steaks and mutton chops for his own enter- 
 tainment, and with the aid of the old country paper and some very 
 questionable port, he passed the evening in anticipation of the 
 sports of the morrow.
 
 ME. SFONGE'S 8P0KTING TOUR. 191 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 THE CROSS-ROADS AT DALLINGTOX BURX. 
 
 THE iloRNING I.IDE TO DAl.I.INddN. 
 
 When his lordship and Jack mounted their hacks in the morniii^- 
 to go to the cross roads at DalHngton Burn, it was so dark that 
 they coukl not see whether they were on bays or browns. It was 
 a dull, murky day, with heavy spongy clouds overhead. 
 
 There had been a great deal of rain in the night, and the 
 horses poached and squashed as they went. Our sportsmen, how- 
 ever, were prepared as well for what had fallen as for what might 
 come ; for they were encased in enormously tliick boots, with 
 baggy overalls, and coats and waistcoats of the stoutest and most 
 abundant order. They had each a sack of a macintosh strapped 
 on to their saddle fronts. Thus they went blobbing and groping 
 their way along, varying the monotony of the journey by an
 
 192 ME. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 occasional snuvt of muddy water up into their faces, or the more 
 nerve-trying noise of a floundering stumble over a heap of stones 
 by the roadside. The country people stared with astonishment as 
 they passed, and the muggers and tinkers, who were withdrawing 
 their horses from the farmers' fields, stood trembling, lest they 
 might be the " poDis " coming after them. 
 
 " I think it'll be a fine day," observed his lordship, after they 
 had bumped for some time in silence without its getting mucli 
 lighter. " I think it will be a fine day," he said, taking his chiii 
 out of his great puddingy-spotted neckcloth, and turning his 
 spectacled ftice up to the clouds. 
 
 " The want of light is its chief fault," observed Jack ; adding, 
 " it's deuced dark f" 
 
 " All, it'll get better of tliat," observed his lordship. " It's 
 not much after eight yet," be added, staring at his watch, and 
 with difficulty making out that it was half-past. " Days take 
 off terribly about this time of year," he observed ; "I've seen 
 about Christmas when it has never been rightly light all day 
 long." 
 
 They then floundered on again for some time further as before. 
 
 " Shouldn't wonder if we have a large field," at length observed 
 Jack, bringing his hack alongside his lordship's. 
 
 " Shouldn't wonder if Puff himself was to come — all over 
 l)rooches and rings as usual." replied his lordship. 
 
 "And Charley Slapp, I'll be bund to say," observed Jack. 
 "He's a regular hanger-on of Puff's." 
 
 " Ass, that Slapp," said his lordship ; " hate the sight of him ! " 
 
 " So do I," replied Jack ; adding, " hate a hanger-on ! " 
 
 " There are the hounds," said his lordship, as they now 
 approached Culverton Dean, and a line of something white was- 
 discernible travelling the zig-zagging road on the opposite 
 side. 
 
 "Are they, think you?" replied Jack, staring through his 
 great spectacles ; " are they, think you ? It looks to me more 
 hke a flock of sheep." 
 
 " I believe you're right," said his lordship, staring too ; 
 " indeed, I hear the dog. The hounds, however, can't be far 
 ahead." 
 
 They then drew into single file to take the broken horse-track 
 through the steep woody dean. 
 
 " This is the longest sixteen miles I know," observed Jack, as 
 they emerged from it, and overtook the sheep. 
 
 " It is," replied his lordship, spurring his hack, who was now 
 begiuning to lag : " the fact is, it's eighteen," he continued ; " only 
 if I was to tell Frosty it was eighteen, he would want to lay over- 
 aight, and that wouldn't do. Besides the trouble and incon-
 
 ME. SPONGE'S SPOUTING TOUR. 193 
 
 veniencc, it would spoil the best part of a fi^e-pund note ; and 
 five-pund notes dou't grow upon gooseberry-bushes — at least not 
 in my garden." 
 
 " Rather scarce in all gardens just now, I think," observed 
 Jack ; " at least I never hear of anybody with one to spare." 
 
 "Money's like snow," said his lordship, "a very meltable 
 article ; and talking of snow," he said, looking up at the heavy 
 clouds, " I wish we mayn't be going to have some — I don't like 
 the look of things overhead." 
 
 "Heavy/' replied Jack; "heavy: however, it's due about 
 now." 
 
 " Due or not due," sa'd his lordship, " it's a thing one never 
 wishes to come ; anybody may have my share of suow that likes — • 
 frost too." 
 
 The road, or rather track, now passed over Blobbington Moor, 
 and our friends had enough to do to keep their horses out of peat- 
 holes and bogs, without indulging in conversation. At length 
 they cleared the moor, and, pulling out a gap at the corner of the 
 inclosures, cut across a few fields, and got ou to the Stumpington 
 turnpike. 
 
 " The hounds are here," said Jack, after stuiljiug the muddy 
 road for some time. 
 
 "They'll not be there long," replied his lordship, "for 
 Grabtintoll Gate isn't far a-hcad, and we dou't waste our 
 substance on pikes." 
 
 His lordship was right. The imprints soon diverged up a 
 muddy lane on the right, and our sportsmen now got into a road 
 so deep and bottomless as to put the idea of stones quite out of 
 the question. 
 
 " Hang the road ! " exclaimed his lordship, as his hack nearly 
 came on his nose, "hang the road!" repeated ho, adding, "if 
 Puff Avasn't such an ass, I really think I'd give him up the cross- 
 road country." 
 
 " It's bad to get at from us," observed Jack, who didn't like 
 such trashing distances. 
 
 " Ah ! but it's a rare good country when you get to it," replied 
 his lordship, shortening his rein and spurring his steed. 
 
 The lane being at length cleared, the road became more practic- 
 able, passing over large pastures where a horseman could choose 
 his own ground, instead of being bound by the narrow limits of 
 the law. But though the road improved, the day did not ; a 
 thick fog coming drifting up from the south-cast in aid of the 
 general obscurity of the scene. 
 
 " The day's gettin' tvuss,^^ observed Jack, snuffling and staring 
 about. 
 
 " It'U blow over," replied his lordship, who was not easily 
 
 o
 
 194 Mn. SPONGIJ'S SPOETING TOUR. 
 
 disliearfcencd. " It'll blow over," repeated he, adding, " often rare 
 scents such days as these. But we must put on," continued he, 
 lookinn: at his watch, "for it's half-past, and we are a mile or more 
 ofT yet." So saying, he clapped spurs to his hack and shot away 
 at a canter, followed by Jack at a long-drawn " hammer and 
 pincers" trot. 
 
 A hunt is something like an Assize circuit, where certain gi*cat 
 guns show everywhere, and smaller men drop in here and there, 
 snatching a day or a brief, as the case may be. Sergeant Bluft* 
 and Sergeant Huff rustle and wrangle in every court, while Mr. 
 Meeke and Mr. Sneeke enjoy their frights on the forensic arenas of 
 their respective towns, on behalf of simple neighbours, who look 
 upon them as thorough Solomons. So with hunts. Certain men 
 who seem to have been sent into the world for the express 
 purpose of hunting, arrive at every meet, far and near, with a 
 punctuality that is truly surprising, and rarely associated with 
 pleasure. 
 
 If you listen to their conversation, it is generally a dissertation 
 on the previous day's sport, with inquiries as to the nearest way 
 to cover the next. Sometimes it is seasoned with censure of some 
 other pack they have been seeing. These men are mounted and 
 appointed in a manner that shows what a perfect profession 
 hunting is with them. Of course, they come cantering to cover, 
 lest any one should suppose they ride their horses on. 
 
 The " Cross Roads " was like two hunts or two circuits joining, 
 for it generally drew the picked men from each, to say nothing of 
 outriggers and chance customers. The regular attendants of 
 either hunt were sufficiently distinguishable as well by the flat 
 hats and baggy garments of the one, as by the dandified, Jemmy 
 Jessamy air of the other. If a lord had not been at the head of 
 the Flat Plats, the Puffington men would have considered them 
 insuflcrable snobs. But to our day. 
 
 As usual, where hounds have to travel a long distance, the field 
 were assembled before they arrived. Almost all the cantering 
 gentlemen had cast up. 
 
 One cross-road meet being so much like another, it will not be 
 worth while describing the one at Dallington Burn. The reader 
 will have the kindness to imagine a couple of roads crossing an 
 open common, with an armless sign-post on one side, and a rubble- 
 stone bridge, with several of the coping-stones lying in the 
 shallow stream below, on the other. 
 
 The country round about, if any country could have been seen, 
 would have shown wild, open, and cheerless. Here a patch of 
 wood, there a patch of heath, but its general aspect bare and 
 unfruitful. The commanding outline of Becchwood Forest was 
 not visible for the weather. Time now, let us suppose, half-past
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 195 
 
 ten, with a full muster of horsemen and a fog making unwonted 
 dnlness of the scene — the old sign-pole being the most conspicuous 
 object of the wliole. 
 
 Hark ! what a clamour there is about it. It's like a betting- 
 post at Newmarket. How loud the people talk ! what's the news ? 
 Oueen Ann dead, or is there another French Revolution, or a 
 lixed duty on corn ? Reader, Mr. Puffington's hounds have had 
 a run, and the Flat Hat men arc disputing it. 
 
 " Nothing of the sort ! nothing of the sort ! " exclaims Fossick, 
 *' I know every yard of the country, and you can't make more nor 
 eight of it anyhow, if eight." 
 
 " Well, but I've measured it on the mnp," replied the speaker 
 (Charley Slapp himself), " and it's thirteen, if it's a yard." 
 
 " Then the country's grown bigger since my day," rejoins 
 Fossick, "for I was dropped at Stubgrove, which is within a mile 
 of where you found, and I've walked, and I've ridden, and I've 
 <lriven every yard ottlie distance, and you can't make it more than 
 eight, if it's as much. Can you, Capon ? " exclaimed Fossick, 
 .nppealing to another of the "flat brims," whose luminous face 
 now shone through the fog. 
 
 " No," rephed Capon ; adding, " not so much, I should say."' 
 
 Just then up trotted Frosty face with the hounds. 
 
 " Good morning, Frosty ! good morning ! " exclaim half-a- 
 tlozen voices, that it would be difficult to appropriate from the 
 <lenseness of the fog. Frosty and the whips make a general 
 salute with their caps. 
 
 "Well, Frosty, I suppose you've heard what a run we had 
 yesterday ? " exclaims Charley Slapp, as soon as Frosty and the 
 hounds are settled. 
 
 " Had they, sir — had they ? " replies Frosty, witli a slight 
 touch of his cap and a sneer. " Glad to hear it, sir — glad to hear 
 it. Hope they killed, sir — hope they killed?" with a still slighter 
 touch of the cap. 
 
 " Killed, aye ? — killed in the open just below Crabstonc 
 Green, in your country ; " adding, "It was one of your foxes I 
 believe." 
 
 "Glad of it, sir — glad of it, sir," replies Frosty. "They 
 ■wanted blood sadly — they wanted blood sadly. Quite welcome to 
 ^one of our foxes, sir — quite welcome. That's a brace and a 'alf 
 they've kiUed." 
 
 " Brace and a ha-r-r-f ! " drawls Slapp, in well-feigned disgust ; 
 " brace and a ha-r-r-f ! — why, it makes them ten brace, and six 
 run to ground." 
 
 " Oh, don't tell w?,".retorts Frosty, with a shake of disgust ; "don't 
 tell me. I knows better — I knows better. They'd only killed 
 a brace since they began hunting up to yesterday. The rest were
 
 19G 3IE. SPONGl^'S SFOBTING TOUR. 
 
 fill cubs, poor things ! — all cubs, poor things ! Mr. Piiffington's 
 hounds are not the sort of animals to kill foxes : nasty, skirting 
 flashy, jealous divils ; always starin' about for holloas and assist- 
 ance' I'll be d — d if I'd give eigliteenpcnce for the 'ole lot on, 
 'em." 
 
 A loud guffaw from the Flat Hat men greeted this wholesale 
 condemnation. The PutUngton men looked unutterable things^ 
 and there is no saying what disagreeable comparisons might have- 
 been instituted (for the Puffingtonians mustered strong) had not 
 his lordship and Jack cast up at the moment. Hats off and polite- 
 ness was then the order of the day. 
 
 " MorninV' said his lordship, with a snatch of his hat in return, 
 as he pulled up and stared into the cloud-enveloped crowd ; 
 " Mornin', Fyle ; mornin', Fossick," he continued, as he distin- 
 guished those worthies, as much by their hats as anything else, 
 " Where are the horses ? " he said to Frostyface. 
 
 " Just beyond there, my lord," replied the huntsman, pointing 
 with his whip to where a cockaded servant was " to-and-froing " 
 a couple of hunters — a brown and a chestnut. 
 
 " Let's be doing," said his lordship, trotting up to them and 
 throwing himself oif his hack like a sack. Having divested him- 
 self of his muddy overalls, he mounted the brown, a splendid 
 sixteen hands horse in tip-top condition, and again made for the 
 field in all the pride of masterly equestrianism. A momentary 
 gleam of sunshine shot o'er the scene ; a jerk of the head acted 
 as a signal to throw off, and away they all moved from the 
 meet. 
 
 Thorneybush Corse was a large eight-acre cover, formed partly 
 of gorse and partly of stunted blackthorn, with here and there a 
 sprinkling of Scotch firs. His lordship paid two pound a-year for 
 it, having vainly tried- to get it for thirty shillings, which was- 
 about the actual value of the land, but the proprietor claimed a 
 little compensation for the trampling of horses about it ; moreover, 
 the Puffington men would have taken it at two pounds. It was a. 
 sure find, and the hounds dashed into it with a scent. 
 
 The field ranged themselves at the accustomed corner, both- 
 hunts full of their previous day's run. Frostyface's " Yoicks, wind 
 him ! " " Yoicks, push him up ! " was drowned in a medley of 
 voices. 
 
 A loud clear shrill "Tally-ho, away ! " from the fiir side of 
 the cover caused all tongues to stop, and all hands to drop on the- 
 reins. Great was the excitement ! Each hunt was determined to 
 take the shine out of the other. 
 
 '^ Twang, twang, twang!'''' ^^ Tweet, tweet, tweet!'''' went his 
 lordship's and Frostyface's horns, as they came bounding over the 
 gorse to the spot, with the eager pack rushing at their horses' heels..
 
 MB. SPOXGK'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 i;>7 
 
 Then, as the hounds crossed the line of scent, there was such an 
 outburst of melody in cover, and such gathering of reins and 
 thrusting on of hats outside ! The hounds dashed out of cover as 
 if somebody was kicking them. A man in scai'lct was seen flyinj^ 
 through the fog, producing the usual hold-hardiugs, " Hold hard, 
 sir ! " " God bless you, hold hard, sir I " \vith enquiries as to " who 
 the chap was that was going to catch the fux." 
 
 JAl K 1-RUSTV ANL> CHAIil.EY SLAI'! 
 
 " It's Lumpleg ! " exclaimed one of the Flat Hat men. 
 
 " No, it's not ! " roared a Puffingtonite ; " Lumpleg's here." 
 
 " Then it's Charley Slapp ; he's always doing it," rejoined the 
 first speaker. " Most jealous man in the world." 
 
 " Is he ! " exclaimed Slapp, cantering past at his ense on a 
 thorough-bred grey, as if he could well aflFord to dispense with a 
 start. 
 
 Reader ! it was neither Lumpleg nor Slapp, nor any of the
 
 lOS MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUL. 
 
 rafiin^ion snobs, or Flat Hat swells, or Puffington Swells, or 
 Flat Hat snobs. It was our old friend Sponge ; Monsieur Tonson 
 again ! Having arrived late, he had posted himself, unseen, by 
 the cover side, and the fox had broke close to him. Unfortunately,, 
 he had headed him back, and a pretty kettle of fish was the result. 
 Xot only had he headed him back, but the resolute chestnut^ 
 having taken it into his head to run away, had snatched the bib 
 between his teeth, and carried him to the far side of a field ere 
 Sponge managed to manoeuvre him round on a very liberal semi- 
 circle, and face the now flying sportsmen, who came hurrying on 
 through the mist like a charge of yeomanry after a salute. All was. 
 excitement, hurry-scuriy, and horse-hugging, with the usual 
 spurring, elbowing, and exertion to get into places ; Mr. Fossick 
 considering he had as much right to be before Mr. Fyle, as Mr. 
 Fyle had to be before old Capon. 
 
 It apparently being all the same to the chestnut which way he 
 went so long as he had his run, he now bore Sponge back as 
 quickly as he had carried him away, and with yawning mouth, and 
 head in the air, he dashed right at the coming horsemen, charging 
 Lord Scamperdale full tilt as he was in the act of returning his 
 horn to its case. Great was the collision ! His lordship flew one 
 way, his horse another, his hat a third, his whip a fourth, his 
 spectacles a fifth ; in fact, he was scattered all over. In an 
 instant he lay in the centre of a circle, kicking on his back like a 
 lively turtle. 
 
 " Oh ! I'm kilt !" he roared, striking out as if he was swimming, 
 or rather floating. '•' I'm kilt ! " he repeated. He's broken my 
 back, — he's broken my legs, — he's broken my ribs, — he's broken 
 my collar-bone, — he's knocked my right eye into the heel of my 
 left boot. Oh ! will nobody catch him and kill him ? "Will 
 nobody do for him ? Will you see an English nobleman knocked 
 about like a nine-pin ? " added his lordship, scrambling up to ga 
 in pursuit of Mr. Sponge himself, exclaiming, as he stood shaking 
 his fist at him, "ito^ ye, Sir ! hangings too good for ye! you should 
 be condemned to hunt in Berwickshire the rest of your life!'*'*
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SFOBTINa TOUR. 
 
 109 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXL 
 
 BOLTIXPr THE BADGKIl. 
 
 AVHEX a man and his 
 liorse ditt'er seriously 
 m public, and tlu' 
 man feels the horse 
 has the best of it, it 
 is wise for the man 
 to appear to accom- 
 modate his views to 
 tiiose of the horse, 
 rather than risk a 
 defeat. It is best to 
 let the horse go his 
 way, and pretend it is 
 yours. There is no 
 secret so close as that 
 between a rider and 
 bis horse. 
 
 Mr. Sponge, having 
 scattered Lord Scam- 
 ])erdale in the sum- 
 mary way described 
 in our last chapter, 
 let the chestnut gal- 
 lop away, consoling 
 himself with the idea 
 that even if the hounds did hunt, it would be impossible for him 
 to show his horse to advantage on so dark and unfavourable a 
 day. He, therefore, just let the beast gallop till he began to flag, 
 and then he spurred him and made liim gallop on his account. 
 ITe thus took his change out of him, and" arrived at Jawleyford 
 Court a little after luncheon time. 
 
 Brief as had been his absence, things had undergone a great 
 change. Certain dark hints respecting his ways and means had 
 Avorked their ^^•ay from the servants' hall to my lady's chamber, 
 and into the upper regions generally. These had been augmented 
 by Leather's, the trusty groom's, overnight visit, in fulfilment of 
 his engagement to sup with the servants. Xor was Mr. Leather's 
 anger abated by the unceremonious way Mr. Sponge rode off with 
 the horse, leaving him to hear of his departure from the ostler. 
 
 MlbTREj.S AND 1IA!1>.
 
 200 ME. SPONGE'S SPOUTING TOUR. 
 
 Having broken faith with him, he considered it his duty to be 
 " upsides" with him, and tell the servants all he knew about him. 
 Accordingly he let out, in strict confidence of course, to Spigot, 
 that so far from Mr. Sponge being a gentleman of " fortiu," as he 
 called it, with a dozen or two hunters planted here and there, he 
 was nothing but the hirer of a couple of hacks, with himself as a 
 job-groom, by the week. Spigot, who was on the best of terms with 
 "the " cook-honsekeepcr," and had his clothes washed on the sly in 
 the laundry, could not do less than communicate the intelligence 
 to her, from whom it went to the lady's-maid, and thence circu- 
 lated in the upper regions. 
 
 Juliana, the maid, finding Miss Amelia less indisposed to hear 
 Mr. Sponge run down than she expected, proceeded to add her 
 own observations to the information derived from Leather, the 
 groom. " Indeed, she couldn't say that she thought much of Mr. 
 Sponge herself ; liis shirts were coarse, so were his pocket-hand- 
 kerchiefs ; and she never yet saw a real gent without a valet." 
 
 Amelia, wdthout any positive intention of giving up Mr. Sponge, 
 at least not until she saw further, had nevertheless got an idea 
 that she was destined for a much higher sphere. Having duly 
 considered all the circumstances of Mr. Spraggon's visit to 
 Jawleyford Court, conned over several mysterious coughs and 
 half -finished sentences he had indulged in, she had about come to 
 the conclusion that the real object of his mission was to negotiate 
 a matrimonial alliance on behalf of Lord Scamperdale. His lord- 
 ship's constantly expressed intention of getting married was well 
 calculated to mislead one whose experience of the world was not 
 sufficiently great to know that those men who are always talking 
 about it are the least likely to get married, just as men who are 
 always talking about buying horses are the men who never do buy 
 them. Be that, however, as it may, Amelia was tolerably easy 
 about Mr. Sponge. H he had money she could take him, if he 
 hadn't she could let him alone. 
 
 Jawleyford, too, who was more hospitable at a distance, and in 
 imagination than in reality, had had about enough of our friend. 
 Indeed, a man whose talk was of hunting, and his reading "Mogg," 
 was not likely to have much in common with a gentleman of taste 
 and elegance, as our friend set up to be. The delicate inquiry 
 that Mrs. Jawleyford now made, as to "whether he knew Mr. 
 Sponge to be a man of fortune," set him oil* at a tangent. 
 
 " Me know he's a man of fortune ! / know nothing of his for- 
 tune. You asked him here, not me," exclaimed Jawleyford, stamp- 
 ing furiously. 
 
 " No, my dear," replied Mrs. Jawleyford, mildly ; " he asked 
 himself, you know ; but I thought, perhaps, you might have said 
 something that "
 
 II B. SPONGE'S SPOTTING TOUR. 201 
 
 ** Mb say anything ! " intcrrnpted Jawleyford ; " / never said 
 ■anything — at least, nothing that any man uith a particle of sense 
 would think anything of," continued he, remembering the scene 
 in the billiard-room. " It's one thing to tell a man, if he comes 
 your way, you'll be glad to sec him, and another to ask him to come 
 bag and baggage, as this impudent Mr. Sponge has done," added he. 
 
 " Certainly," replied Mrs. Jawleyford, who saw where the shoe 
 was pinching her bear. 
 
 " I wish he was off," observed Jawleyford, after a pause. " He 
 bothers me excessively — I'll try and get rid of him by saying we 
 arc going from home." 
 
 " Where can you say we are going to ? " asked Mrs. Jawleyford. 
 
 "Oh, anywhere," replied Jawleyford; "he doesn't know the 
 people about here : the Tewkesbury's, the Woolertou's, the 
 Brown's, — anybody." 
 
 Before they had got any definite plan of proceeding arranged, 
 Mr. Sponge returned from the chase. 
 
 "Ah, my dear sir!" exclaimed Jawleyford, half gaily, half 
 moodily, extending a couple of fingers as Sponge entered his study ; 
 "' we thought you had taken French leave of us, and were olf." 
 
 Mr. Sponge asked if his groom had not delivered his note. 
 
 " ISTo," replied Jawleyford, boldly, though he had it in his 
 pocket ; " at least, not that I've seen. Mrs. Jawleyford, perhaps, 
 may have got it," added he. 
 
 *' Indeed ! " exclaimed Sponge ; " it Avas very idle of him. He 
 then proceeded to detail to Jawleyford what the reader already 
 kuows, how he had lost his day at Larkhall Hill, and had tried to 
 make up for it by going to the cross-roads. 
 
 " Ah ! " exclaimed Jawleyford, when he was done ; " that's a 
 pity — great pity — monstrous pity — never knew anything so 
 unlucky in my life." 
 
 "Misfortunes will happen,"rcplied Sponge, in a tone of unconcern. 
 
 "Ah, it wasn't so much the loss of the hunt I was thinking of," 
 replied Jawleyford, " as the arrangements we have made ia 
 consequence of thinking you were gone." 
 
 "What are they ? " asked Sponge. 
 
 " Why, my Ijord Barker, a great friend of ours — known him 
 from a boy — just like brothers, in short — sent over this morning 
 to ask us all there— shooting party, charades, that sort of thing — 
 and we accepted." 
 
 "But that need make no difference," replied Sponge; "I'll 
 go too." 
 
 Jawleyford was taken aback. He had not calculated upon so 
 much coolness. 
 
 "Well," stammered he, "that might do, to be sure ; but — if— 
 I'm not quite sure that I could take any one "
 
 202 ME. SFONGJE'S SPOBTING TOUR. 
 
 '• Cut if you're as thick as you s:r/, you can have no difTiculty," 
 replied our friend. 
 
 " True," replied Jawleyford ; " but then we go a hirge party 
 ourselves — two and two's four," said he, " to say nothing of 
 servants ; besides, his lordship mayn't have room — house will most 
 likely be full." 
 
 "Oh, a single man can always bo put up ; shake-down — any- 
 thing does for him," replied Sponge. 
 
 "But you would lose your hunting," replied Jawlcyford. 
 " Barkington Tower is quite out of Lord Scamperdalc's country." 
 
 " That doesn't matter," replied Sponge ; adding, " I don't 
 think I'll trouble his lordship much more. These Flat Hat 
 gentlemen are not over and above civil, in my opinion." 
 
 "Well," replied Jawleyford, nettled at this thwarting of his 
 attempt, " that's for your consideration. However, as you've come, 
 I'll talk to Mrs. Jawleyford, and sec if we can get off the Barking- 
 ton expedition." 
 
 " But don't get off on my account," replied Sponge. " I can 
 stay here quite well. I dare say you'll not be away long." 
 
 This was worse still ; it held out no hope of getting rid of him. 
 Jawlcyford therefore resolved to try and smoke and starve him 
 out. When oiu* friend went to dress, he found his old apartment, 
 the state-room, put away, the heavy brocade curtains brown- 
 hoUanded, the jugs turned upside down, the bed stripped of its 
 clothes, and the looking-glass laid a-top of it. 
 
 The smirking housemaid, who was just rolling the lireirons up in 
 the hearth-rug, greeted him with a " Please, sir, we've shifted you 
 into the brown room, east," leading the way to the condemned cell 
 that "Jack" had occupied, where a newly-lit fire was puffing out 
 dense clouds of brown smoke, obscuring even the gilt letters on 
 the back of " ]\Iogg's Cab Fares," as the little volume lay va the 
 toilet-table. 
 
 "What's happened now?" asked our friend of the maid, putting 
 his arm round her waist, and giving her a hearty squeeze. " What's 
 happened now, that you've put me into this dog-hole?" asked he. 
 
 " Oh ! I don't know," replied she, laughing ; " I s'pose they're 
 afraid you'll bring the old rotten curtains down in the other room 
 with smokin'. Master's a sad old wife," added she. 
 
 A great change had come over everything. The fare, the lights, 
 the footmen, the everything, underwent grievous diminution. The 
 lamps were extinguished ; and the transparent wax gave way to 
 Palmer's composites, under the mild influence of whose unsearch- 
 ing light the young ladies sported their dashed dresses with 
 impunity. Competition between them, indeed, was about an end» 
 Amelia claimed Mr. Sponge, should he be worth having, and 
 should the Scamperdale scheme fail ; while Emily, having her
 
 ME. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOIJP. 
 
 205 
 
 thenu 
 
 mamma's assm-ance that ha would not do for cither of 
 resigned herself complacently to what she could not hci}). 
 
 Mr. Sponge, on his part, saw that all things portended a close. 
 He cared nothing about the old willow-pattern set usurping the 
 place of the Jawley ford-armed china ; but the contents of the 
 
 MR. SPONGE DEMAXDINQ AN EXPLANATION. 
 
 dishes T;'ere bad, and the wine, if possible, worse. Most palpable 
 Marsala did duty for sherry, and the corked port was again in 
 requisition. Jawleyford was no longer the brisk, cheery-hearted 
 Jawleyford of Lavcrick Wells, but a crusty, fidgetty, fire-stirring 
 sort of fellow, desperately given to his Morning Post. 
 
 Worst of all, when Mr. Sponge retired to his den to smoke a 
 cigar and study his dear cab fare?, lio v.'as so suffocated witli
 
 204 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 smoke that he was obliged to put out the fire, notwithstandinjif 
 the weather was cold, indeed inchuing: to frost. He ht his cigar 
 notwithstanding ; and, as he indulged in it, he ran all the circum- 
 stances of his situation through his mind. His pressing invitation 
 —his magnificent reception — the attention of the ladies — and now 
 the sudden change everything had taken. He couldn't make it 
 out, somehow ; but the consequences were plain enough. " The 
 fellow's a humbug," at length said he, throwing the cigar-end 
 tiway, and turning into bed, when the information Watson the 
 keeper gave him, on arriving recurred to his mind, and he was 
 satisfied that Jawleyford was a humbug. It was clear Mr. Sponge 
 had made a mistake in coming ; the best thing he could do now 
 was to back out, and see if the fair Amelia would take it to heart. 
 In the midst of his cogitations Mr. Puffington's pressing invitation 
 occurred to his mind, and it appeared to be the very thing for 
 liim, affording him an immediate asylum within reach of the fliir 
 lady, should she be likely to die. 
 
 Next day he wrote to volunteer a visit. 
 
 Mr. Putfington, who was still in ignorance of our friend's real 
 character, and still believed him to be a second " Nimrod " out on 
 a " tour," was overjoyed at his letter ; and, strange to relate, the 
 i5ame post that brought his answer jumping at the proposal, 
 brought a letter from Lord Scampcrdale to Jawleyford, saying 
 that, " as soon as Jawleyford was quite alone (scored under) he 
 Avould like to pay him a visit." His lordship, we should inform 
 the reader, notwithstanding his recent mishap, still held out 
 against Jack Spraggon's recommendation to get rid of Mr. Sponge 
 by buying his horses, and he determined to try this experiment 
 first. His lordship thought at one time of entering into an 
 •explanation, telling ]Mr. Jawleyford the damage Sponge had done 
 him, and the nuisance he was entailing upon him by harbouring 
 Jiim ; but not being a great scholar, and several hard v/ords turn- 
 ing up that his lordship could not well clear in the spelling, he 
 just confined himself to a laconic ; which as it turned out, was a 
 most fortmiate course. Indeed, he had another difficulty besides 
 the spelling, for the hounds having as usual had a great run after 
 Mr. Sponge had floored him — knocked his right eye into the heel 
 of his left boot, as he said — in the course of which run his lord- 
 ship's horse had rolled over him on a road, he was like the railway 
 IDCople — unable to distinguish between capital and income — unable 
 to say which were Sponge's bangs and Avhich his own ; so, like a 
 hard cricket-ball sort of a man as he was, he just pocketed all, and 
 M'rote as we have described. 
 
 His lordship's and Mr. Puffington's letters diffused joy into a 
 house that seemed likely to be distracted with trouble. 
 
 So then endeth our thirtieth chapter, and a very pleasant ending
 
 MR. SPONGF/S HPORTING TOUR. 
 
 20.> 
 
 it is, for we leave every one in perfect good humour find spirits. 
 Sponge pleased at having got a Iresh billet, Jawleyford delighted at 
 the coming of the lord, and each fair lady practising in private 
 liow to sign her christian name in conjunction with " Scamper- 
 dalc." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIl. 
 
 :im. rUFFINGTOX : OR, THE YOUXG- MAX ABOUT TOWN. 
 
 MR. rUFFINGTON, KBOM THE ORIGINAL I'lCTURE. 
 
 Mr. Puffixgton took the Mangeysterne, novr the Hanhy 
 hounds, because he thought they would give him consequence. 
 Not that he was particularly deficient in that article ; but being a-
 
 208 MR. SPONGU'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 new man in the county, he thought that talcing them would make 
 him popular, and give him standing. He had no natural inclina- 
 tion for hunting, but seeing friends who had no taste for the turf 
 take upon themselves the responsibility of stewardships, he saw no 
 reason why he should not make a similar sacrifice at the shrine of 
 Diana. Indeed, Puff was not bred for a sportsman. His father, 
 a most estimable man, and one with whom we have spent many a 
 convivial evening, was a great starchmaker at Stepney ; and his 
 mother was the daughter of an eminent Worcestershire stone-china 
 maker. Save such ludicrous hunts as they might have seen on 
 their brown jugs, we do not believe either of them had any 
 acquaintance whatever with the chase. Old Puffiugton was, 
 iiowever, what a wise heir esteems a great deal more — an excellent 
 man of business, and amassed mountains of money. To see his 
 establishment at Stepney, one would thiuk the whole world was 
 going to be starched. Enormous dock-tailed dray-horses emerged 
 with ponderous waggons heaped up to the very skies, while 
 others would come rumbling in, laden with wheat, potatoes, 
 and other starch-making ingredients. Puffington's blue roans 
 were well known about town, and were considered the handsomest 
 liorses of the day ; quite equal to Barclay and Perkins's pie- 
 i}a]ds. 
 
 Old Pufllngton was not like a sportsman. He was a little, soft, 
 rosy, round-about man, with stiff resolute legs that did not look as 
 if they could be bent to a saddle. He was great, however, in a 
 gig, and slouched like a sack. 
 
 Mrs. Puffiugton, ne Smith, was a tall handsome woman, who 
 thought a good deal of herself. When she and her spouse married, 
 they lived close to the manufactory, in a sweet little villa replete 
 wich every elegance and convenience — a pond, which they called a 
 lake — laburnums without end ; a yew, clipped into a dock-tailed 
 waggon horse ; standing for three horses and gigs, with an acre 
 and a half of land for a cow. 
 
 Old Puffington, however, being unable to keep those dearest 
 documents of a British merchant, his balance-sheets, to himself, 
 iiud Mrs, Puffington finding a considerable sum going to the 
 "good" every year, insisted, on the birth of their only child, our 
 friend, upon migrating to the " west," as she called it, and at one 
 l)old stroke they established themselves in Heathcote-street, 
 Mecklenburgh-square. Novelists had not then written this part 
 ■down as "Mesopotamia," and it was quite as genteel as Harley or 
 AVimpolc-street are now. Their chief object then was to increase 
 their wealth and make their only son " a gentleman." They sent 
 him to Eton, and in due time to Christ Church, where, of course, 
 he established a red coat, to persecute Sir Thomas Mostyn's and 
 the Duke of Beaufort's hounds, much to the annoyance of their
 
 ML. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 207 
 
 respective huntsmen, Stephen Goodall and Phihp Payne, and the 
 iigo-ravation of poor old Grifl'. Lloyd. 
 
 ' What between the field and college, young Puflington made 
 tlie acquaintance of scTcral very dashing young sparks — Lord 
 Firebrand, Lord Mudlark, Lord Dcuccace, Su' Harry Blueun, and 
 others, whom he always spoke of as " Dcuceace," " Blueun," &c., 
 in the easy style that marks the perfect gentleman.* How proud 
 the old people were of him ! How they would sit listening to him, 
 flashing, and telling how Deuceace and he floored a Charley, or 
 Blueun and he pitched a snob out of the boxes into the pit. This 
 was in the old Tom-and- Jerry days, when fistycufis were the fashion. 
 One evening, after he ihad indulged us with a more than usual 
 dose, and was leaving the room to dress for an eight o'clock dinner 
 at Long's, '^Buzzer!''' exclaimed the old man, clutching our arm, 
 as the tears started to his eyes, ^^ Buzzer ! that's an ani««zhi 
 instance of a pop'lar man ! " And certainly, if a large acquaint- 
 ance is a criterion of popularity, young Puffington, as he was then 
 called, had his fair share. He once did us the honour — an honour 
 we never shall forget — of walking down Bond-street with us, in 
 the spring-tide of fashion, of a glorious summer's day, when you 
 could not cross Conduit-street under a lapse of a quarter of an 
 hour, and carriages seemed to have come to an interminable lock 
 at the Piccadilly end of the street. In those days great people 
 ■went about like great people, in handsome hammer-clothed, arms- 
 emblazoned coaches, with plethoric three-corner-hatted coachmen, 
 and gigantic, lace-bedizened, quivering-calved Johnnies, instead 
 of rumbling along like apothecaries in pill-boxes, with a handle 
 inside to let themselves out. Young men, too, dressed as if they 
 were dressed — as if they were got up with some care and attention 
 — instead of wearing the loose, careless, flowing, sack-like garments 
 they do now. 
 
 We remember the day as if it were but yesterday ; Puffington 
 overtook us in Oxford-street, where we Avere taking our usual 
 sauntering stare into the shop-windows, and instead of shirking or 
 slipping behind our back, he actually ran his arm up to the hilt in 
 ours, and turned us into the middle of the flags, with an " Ah, 
 Buzzer, old boy, what are you doing in this debauched part of the 
 town ? come along with me, and I'll show you Life ! " 
 
 So saying he linked arms, and pursuing our course at a proper 
 kill-time sort of pace, we were at length brought up at the end of 
 Vere-stieet, along which there was a regular rush of carriages, 
 cutting away as if they were going to a fire instead of to a finery 
 ehop. 
 
 Many were the smiles, and bows, and nods, and finger kisses, 
 
 * Query, " snob ? " — Printer's Devil.
 
 208 Mil. SPONGE'S SPOETING TOUR. 
 
 and bright eyes, and sweet glances, that the fair flyers sliot at our 
 friend as they darted past. We were lost in astonishment at the 
 sight. " Verily," said we, " but the old man was right. This is 
 an am«rtzin instance of a pop'lar man." 
 
 Young Puffington was then in the heyday of youth, about one- 
 and-tweuty or so, fair-haired, fresh-complexioned, slim, and 
 standing, with the aid of high-heeled boots, little under six feet 
 high. He had taken after his mother, not after old Tom Trodgers, 
 as they called his papa. At length we crossed over Oxford-street, 
 and taking the shady side of Bond-street, were quickly among the 
 real swells of the world — men who crawled along as if life was a 
 perfect burden to them — men with eye-glasses fixed and tasselled 
 canes in their hands, scarcely less ponderous than those borne by 
 the footmen. Great Heavens ! but they were tight, and smart, 
 and shiny ; and Puffington was just as tight, and smart, and 
 shiny as any of them. He was as much in his element here as he 
 appeared to be out of it in Oxford-street. It might be prejudice, 
 or want of penetration on our part, but we thought he looked as 
 high-bred as any of them. They all seemed to know each other, 
 and the nodding, and winking, and jerking, began as soon as we 
 got across. Puff kindly acted as cicerone, or we should not have 
 been aware of the consequence we were encountering. 
 
 " Well, Jemmy ! " exclaimed a dcbauchcd-looking youth to our 
 friend, " how are you ? — breakfasted yet ? " 
 
 "Going to," replied Puffington, whom they called Jemmy because 
 his name was Tommy. 
 
 " That," said he, in an undertone " is a capital fellow, — Lord! 
 Legbail, eldest son of the Marquis of Loosefish — will be Lord 
 Loosefish. We were at the Finish together till six this morning — • 
 such fun ! — ^bonneted a Charley, stole his rattle, and broke an early 
 breakfast-man's stall all to shivers." Just then up came a broad- 
 brimmed hat, above a confused mass of greatcoats and coloured 
 shawls. 
 
 "Holloa, Jack?" exclaimed Mr. Puffington, laying hold of a 
 mother-of-pearl button, nearly as large as a tart-plate — " not off 
 yet?" 
 
 " Just going," replied Jack, with a touch of his hat, as he rolled 
 on ; adding, " want aught down the road ? " 
 
 " What coachman is that ? " asked we. 
 
 " Coacliman ! '" replied Puff, with a snort ; " that's Jack Lincli- 
 pin — Honourable Jack Linchpin — son of Lord Splinterbars, — best 
 gentleman coachman in England." 
 
 So Puffington sauntered along good morninging " Sir Harrys,"" 
 and " Sir Jameses," and " Lord Johns," and " Lord Toms," till 
 seeing a batch of irreproachable dandies flattening their noses 
 against the windows of the Sailors' Old Club, in whose eyes, h&
 
 ME. SPON'GE'S SPOETING TOUB. 209 
 
 perhaps thought, our city coat and country gaiters would not find 
 much favour, he gave us a hasty parting- squeeze of the arm, and 
 bolted into Long's just as a mountainous hackney-coach was 
 rumbling between us and them. 
 
 But to the old man. Time rolled on, and at length Old 
 Puffington paid the debt of nature — the only debt, by the way, 
 that he was slow in discharging, and our friend found himself in 
 possession, not only of the starch manufi\ctory, but of a very great 
 accumulation of consols — so great that, though starch is as in- 
 offensive a thing as a man can well deal in, a thing that never 
 obtrudes itself, or, indeed, appears in a shop, unless it is asked for ; 
 notwithstanding all this, and though it was bringing him in lots 
 of money, om* friend determined to " cut the shop " and be done 
 with trade altogether. 
 
 Accordingly, he sold the premises and good-will, with all the 
 stock of potatoes and wheat, to the foreman, old Soapsuds, at 
 something below what they were really worth, rather than make 
 any row in the way of advertisiiig ; and the name of " Soapsuds, 
 Brothers, and Co." reigns on the blue-and-whity-brown parcel-ends, 
 wheic formerly that of Puffington stood supreme. 
 
 It is a melancholy fact, which those best acquainted with London 
 society can vouch for, that her " swells " are a very ephemeral race. 
 Take the last five-and-twenty years, — say from the days of the 
 
 Golden Ball and Pea-green Hayne down to those of Molly C 1 
 
 and Mr, D — 1 — f — Id, — and see what a succession of joyous — no, 
 not joyous, but rattling, careless, dashing, sixty-per-centing youths 
 we have had. 
 
 And where are they all now ? Some dead, some at Boulogne- 
 sur-Mer, some in Denman Lodge, some perhaps undergoing the 
 polite attentions of Mr. Commissioner Phillips, or figuring in 
 Mr. Hemp's periodical publication of gentlemen " who are 
 wanted." 
 
 In speaking of " swells," of course we are not alluding to men 
 with reference to their clothes alone, but to men whose dashing, and 
 perhaps eccentric, exteriors are but indicative of their general 
 system of extravagance. The man who rests his claims to distinc- 
 tion solely on his clothes will very soon find himself in want of 
 society. Many things contribute to thin the ranks of our swells. 
 Many, as we said before, outrun the constable. Some get fat, 
 some get married, some get tired, and a few get wiser. There is, 
 however, always a fine pushing crop coming on. A man like 
 Puffington, who starts a dandy (in contradistinction to a swell), 
 and adheres steadily to clothes — talking eternally of the cuts of 
 coats or the ties of cravats — up to the sober age of forty, must be 
 always falling back on the rising generation for society. 
 
 Puffington was not what the old ladies call a profligate young
 
 210 ME. SPONGi^'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 man. On the contrary, he was naturally a nice, steady young 
 man ; and only indulged in the vagaries we liave described 
 because they were indulged in by the high-born and gay. 
 
 Tom and Jerry had a great deal to answer for in the way of 
 leading soft-headed young men astray ; and old PufTington having 
 had the misfortune to christen our iriend " Thomas," of course his 
 companions dubbed him " Corinthian Tom ; " by which name he 
 has been known ever since. 
 
 A man of such undoubted wealth could not be otherwise than a 
 great favourite with the fair, and innumerable Avere the invitations 
 that poured into his chambers in the Albany — dinner parties, 
 evening parties, balls, concerts, bones for the opera ; and as each 
 succeeding season drew to a close, invitations to those last efforts 
 of the desperate, boating and whitebait parties. 
 
 Corinthian Tom went to them all — at least, to as many as he 
 could manage — always dressing in the most exemplary way, as 
 though he had been asked to show his fine clothes instead of to 
 make love to the ladies. Manifold were the hopes and expecta- 
 tions that he raised. Puff could not understand that, though it is 
 all very well to be "an ^maazin instance of a pop'lar man " with 
 the men, that the same sort of thing does not do with the ladies. 
 
 We have heard that there were six mammas, bowhng about in 
 their barouches, at the close of his second season, innuendoing, 
 nodding, and hinting to their friends, "that, &c.," when there 
 Avasn't one of their daughters who had penetrated the rhinoceros- 
 like hide of his own conceit. The consequence was, that all these 
 ladies, all their daughters, all the relations and connections of this 
 life, thought it incumbent upon them to " blow " our friend Puff 
 — proclaim how infamously he had behaved — all because he liad 
 danced three supper dances with one girl ; brought another a fine 
 bouquet from Covent Garden ; and walked a third away from her 
 party at a pic-nic at Erith ; begged the mamma of a fourth to take 
 her to a Woolwich ball ; sent a fifth a ticket for a Toxophilite 
 meeting ; and dangled about the carriage of the sixth at a review 
 at the Scrubbs. Poor Puff never thought of being more than an 
 ama«zin instance of a pop'lar man ! 
 
 Not that the ladies' denunciations did the Corinthian any harm 
 at first — old ladies know each other better than that ; and each 
 new mamma had no doubt but Mrs. Depecarde or Mrs. Main- 
 chance, as the case might be, had been deceiving herself — " was 
 always doing so, indeed ; her ugly girls were not likely to attract 
 any one — certainly not such an elegant man as Corinthian Tom." 
 
 But as season after season passed away, and the Corinthian still 
 played the old game — still went the old rounds — the dinner and 
 ball invitations gradually dwindled away, till he became a mere 
 stop-gap at the one, and a landing-place appendage at the other.
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUB. 211 
 
 And now behold Mr. Puffington, fat, fair, and rather more than 
 forty — Puffington, no longer the light limber lad who patronised 
 us in Bond-street, but Puffington a plump, portly sort of personage, 
 filling his smart clothes uncommonly full. Men no longer hailing 
 him heartily from bay windows, or greeting him cheerily in short but 
 familiar terms, but bowing ceremoniously as they passed with their 
 wives, or perhaps turning down streets or into shops to avoid him. 
 What is the last rose of summer to do under such circumstances ? 
 What, indeed, but retire into the country ? A man may shine there 
 long after he is voted a bore in town, provided none of his old friends 
 arc there to proclaim him. Country people are tolerant of twaddle, 
 and slow of finding things out for themselves. Puff now turned 
 his attention to the country, or rather to the advertisements of 
 estates for sale, and immortal George Robins soon fitted him with 
 one of his earthly paradises ; a mansion replete with every modern 
 elegance, luxury, and convenience, situated in the heart of the 
 most lovely scenery in the world, with eight hundred acres of land 
 of the finest quality, capable of growing forty bushels of wheat 
 after turnips. In addition to the estate there was a lordship or 
 reputed lordship to shoot over, a river to fish in, a pack of fox- 
 hounds to hunt with, and the advertisements gave a sly hint as to 
 the possibility of the property Influencing the representation of the 
 neighbouring borough of Swillingford, if not of returning the 
 member itself. 
 
 This was Hanby House, and though the description undoubtedly 
 partook of George's usual high-flown coideur-de-rose style, the 
 manor being only a manor provided the owner sacrificed his 
 interest in Swillingford by driving off its poachers, and the river 
 being only a river when the tiny Swill was swollen into one, still 
 Hanby House was a very nice attractive sort of place, and seen in 
 the rich foliage of its summer dress, with all its roses and flower- 
 ing shrubs in full blow, the description was not so wide of the 
 mark as Pobins's descriptions usually were. Puff bought it, and 
 •became what he called " a man of p-r-o-r-perty." To be sure, after 
 he got possession he found tliat it was only an acre here and there 
 that would grow forty bushels of wheat after turnips, and that 
 there was a good deal more to do at the house than he expected, 
 the furniture of the late occupants having hidden many defects, 
 added to which they had Avalked off with almost everything they 
 ■could wrench down, under the name of fixtures ; indeed, there was 
 not a peg to hang up his hat when he entered. This, however, 
 was nothing, and Puff very soon made it into one of the most 
 perfect bachelor residences that ever was seen. Not but that it 
 was a family house, with good nurseries and offices of every 
 description ; but Puff used to take a sort of wicked pleasure in 
 telling the ladies who came trooping over with their daughters, 
 
 t 2
 
 212 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 pretending they thought he was from home, and wishing to see the 
 elegant furniture, that there was nothing in the nurseries, which 
 lie was going to convert into bilhard and smoking-rooms. This, 
 and a few similar sallies, earned our friend the reputation of a wit 
 in the country. 
 
 There was a great rush of gentlemen to call upon him ; many 
 of the mammas seemed to think that first come would be first 
 served, and sent their husbands over, before he was fairly squatted. 
 Various and contradictory were the accounts they brought home. 
 Men are so stupid at seeing and remembering things. Old Mr. 
 Muddle came back bemused with sherry, declaring that he thought 
 Mr. Puffington was as old as he was (sixty-two), while Mrs. 
 Mousetrap thought he wasn't more than thirty at the outside. 
 She described him as " painfully handsome." Mr. Slowan 
 couldn't tell whether the drawing-room furniture was chintz, or 
 damask, or what it was ; indeed, he wasn't sure that he was in 
 the drawing-room at all ; while Mr. Gapes insisted that the carpet 
 ivas a Turkey carpet, whereas it was a royal cut pile. It might be 
 that the smartness and freshness of everything confused the 
 bucolic minds, little accustomed to wholesale grandeur. 
 
 Mr. PuflBngton quite eclipsed all the old country families with 
 their " company rooms " and put-away furniture. Then, when he 
 began to grind about the country in his lofty mail-phaeton, with 
 a pair of spanking, high-stepping bays, and a couple of arm-folded, 
 lolling grooms, shedding his cards in return for their calls, there 
 was such a talk, such a commotion as had never been known 
 before. Then, indeed, he was appreciated at his true worth. 
 
 " Mr. Puffiugton was here the other day," said Mrs. Smirk to- 
 ]\Irs. Smooth, in the well-known " great-deal-more-meant-than- 
 said " style. " Oh such a charming man ! Such ease ! such 
 manners ! such knowledge of higli life ! " 
 
 Puff had been at his old tricks. He had resuscitated Lord 
 Legbail, now Earl of Loosefish ; imported Sir Harry Blueun fi'om 
 sornewhere near Geneva, whither he had retired on marrying his 
 mistress ; and resuscitated Lord Mudlark, who had broken his 
 neck many years before from his tandem in Piccadilly. Whatever 
 was said. Puff always had a duplicate or illustration involving a 
 nobleman. The great names might be rather far-fetched at times,, 
 to be sure, but when people are inclined to be pleased, they don't 
 keep putting that and that together to see how they fit, and 
 Avhether they come naturally, or are lugged in neck and heels. 
 Puifs talk was very telling. 
 
 One great man to a house is the usual country allowance, and 
 many are not very long in letting out who theirs are ; but 
 Puffington seemed to have the whole peerage, baronetage, and 
 kiightage at command. Old Mrs. Slyboots, indeed, thought that
 
 3IR. SPONGi:'S SPORTING TOUR. 213 
 
 he must be connected with the peerage some wny ; his mother, 
 perhaps, had been the daughter of a peer, and she gave herself an 
 infinity of trouble in hunting through the " matches " — with what 
 success it is not necessary to sny. The old ladies unanimously 
 agreed that he was a most agreeable, interesting young man ; and 
 though tlie young ones did pretend to run him down among them- 
 selves, calling him ugly, and so on, it was only in the vain hope of 
 dissuading each other from thinking of him. 
 
 Mr. Puffington still stuck to the " amaazin' pop'lar man" 
 character ; a character that is not so convenient to support in the 
 country as it is in town. The borough of Swillingford, as we have 
 already intimated, was not the best conducted borough in the 
 world ; indeed, when we say that the principal trade of the place was 
 poaching, our country readers will be able to form a very accurate 
 opinion on that head. AVhen Puff took possession of Hanby there 
 was a fair show of pheasants about the house, and a good sprinkling 
 of hares and partridges over the estate and manor generally ; but 
 refusing to prosecute the first poachers that were caught, the rest 
 took the hint, and cleared everything off in a week, dividing the 
 plunder among them. They also burnt his river and bagged his 
 fine Dorking fowls, and all these feats being accomplished with 
 impunity, they turned their attention to his fat sheep. 
 
 '* Poacher " is only a mild term for " thief." 
 
 Puff was a perfect milch-cow in the way of generosity. He gave 
 to everything and everybody, and did not seem to be acquainted 
 with any smaller sum than a five-pound note : a five-pound note 
 to replace Giles Jolter's cart-horse (that used to carry his own game 
 for the poachers to the poulterers at Plunderston) — five pounds to 
 buy Dame Doubletongue another pig, though she had only just 
 given three pounds for the one that died — five pounds towards the 
 fire at farmer Scratchley's, though it had taken place two years 
 before Puff came into the country, and Scratchley had been living 
 upon it ever since — and sundry other five pounds to other equally 
 deserving and amiable people. He put his name down for fifty to 
 the Mangeysterne hounds without ever being asked ; which 
 reminds us that we ought to be directing our attention to that 
 noble establishment. 
 
 It is hard to have to go behind the scenes of an ill-supported 
 hunt, and we will be as brief and tender with the cripples as wo 
 can. The Mangeysterne hounds wanted that great ingredient of 
 prosperity, a large nest-egg subscriber, to whom all others could be 
 tributary — paying or not as might be convenient. The consequence 
 was they were always up the spout. They were neither a scratch 
 pack nor a regular pack, l:mt something betwixt and between. 
 They were hunted by a saddler, who found his own horses, and 
 sometimes he had a whip and sometimes he hadn't. The estab-
 
 214 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 lishment died as often as old Mantalini himself. Every season 
 that came to a close was proclaimed to be their last, but somehow 
 or other they always managed to scramble into existence on the 
 approach of another. It is a way, indeed, that delicate packs have 
 of recruiting their finances. Nevertheless, the Mangeysternes did 
 look very like coming to an end about the time that Mr. Puffington 
 bought Hanby House. The saddler huntsman had failed ; John 
 Doehad taken one of his screws, and Richard Roe the other, and 
 anybody might have the hounds that liked : Puffington then 
 turned up. 
 
 Great was the joy diffused throughout the Mangeysterne 
 country when it transpired, through the medium of his valet, Louis 
 Bergaraotte, that " his lor' had beaitcoup habit rouge " in his 
 wardrobe. Not only habit rouge, but habit blue and buff, that he 
 used to sport with " Old Beaufort " and the Badminton hunt — 
 coats that he certainly had no chance of ever getting into again, 
 but still which he kept as memorials of the past — souvenirs of the 
 days when he was young and slim. The bottle-conjurer could just 
 as soon have got into his quart bottle as Puff could into the 
 Beaufort coat at the time of which we are writing. The intelligence 
 of their existence was quickly followed by the aforesaid fifty-pound 
 cheque. A meeting of the Mangeysterne hunt was called at the 
 sign of the Thirsty Freeman in Swillingford — Sir Charles Figgs, 
 Knight — a large-promising but badly-paying subscriber — in the 
 chair, when it was proposed and carried unanimously that Mr, 
 Puffington was eminently qualified for the mastership of the hunt, 
 and that it be offered to him accordingly. Puff " bit." He 
 recalled his early exploits with " Mostyn and old Beaufort," and 
 resolved that the hunt had taken a right view of his abilities. In 
 coming to this decision lie, perhaps, was not altogether uninfluenced 
 by a plausible subscription list, which seemed about equal to the 
 ordinary expenses, supposing that any reliance could be placed on 
 the figures and calculations of Sir Charles. All those, however, 
 who have had anything to do with subscription lists — and in these 
 days of universal testimonialising who has not ? — well know that 
 pounds upon paper and pounds in the pocket are very different 
 things. Above all Puff felt that he was a new man in the country, 
 and that taking the hounds would give him weight. 
 
 The " Mangeysterne dogs " then began to " look up ; " Mi". 
 Puffington took to them in earnest ; bought a " Beckford," and 
 shortened his military stirrups to a hunting scat.
 
 3IB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 215 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIIT. 
 
 A SWELL HUNTSMAN. 
 
 . > 
 
 iN "ama-a-zin' poplar" man. 
 
 One evenino- the rattle of Puff's pole-chains, brought, in adaition 
 to the nsual "i-ush of shirt-sleeved helpers, an extremely smart, 
 dapper little man, who might l)e either a jockey or a gentleman, or 
 both or neither. He Avas a clean-shaved, close-trimmed, spruce 
 little ft'llow ; remarkably natty about the legs— indeed, all over. 
 His close-napped hat was carefully brushed, and what little hair
 
 216 ME. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUP. 
 
 appeared below its slightly curved brim was of the pepper-and-salt 
 mixture of — say, fifty years. His face, though somewhat wrinkled 
 and Aveatherbeaten, was bright and healthy ; and there was a 
 twinkle about his little grey eyes that spoke of quickness and 
 watchful observation. Altogether, he was a very quick-looking 
 little roan — a sort of man that would know what you were going 
 to say before you had well broke ground. He wore no gills ; and 
 his neatly tied starcher had a white ground with small black spots, 
 about the size of currants. Tiie slight interregnum between it and 
 his step-collared striped vest (blue stripe on a canary-coloured 
 gro'iind) showed three golden foxes' heads, acting as studs to his 
 well-washed, neatly-plaited shirt ; while a sort of careless turn 
 back of the right cuif showed similar ornaments at his wrists. His 
 single-breasted, cut-away coat was Oxford mixture, with a thin cord 
 binding, and very natty light kerseymere mother-o'-pearl buttoned 
 breeches, met a pair of bright, beautifuUy-fitting, rose-tinted tops, 
 that wrinkled most elegantly down to the Jersey-patterned spur. 
 He was a remarkably well got up little man, and looked the horse- 
 man all over. 
 
 As he emerged from the stable, where he had been mastering 
 the ins and outs of the establishment, learning what was allowed 
 and what was not, what had not been found fault with and, therefore, 
 might be presumed upon, and so on, he carried the smart dogskin 
 leather glove of one hand in the other, while the fox's head of a 
 massive silver-mounted jockey-whip peered from under his arm. 
 On a ring round the fox's neck Avas the following inscription : — 
 " From Jack Bragg to his cousin Dick." 
 
 Mr. Puffington having drawn up his mail-phaeton, and thrown 
 the ribbons to the active grooms at the horses' heads in the true 
 coaching style, proceeded to descend from his throne, and had 
 reached the ground ere he was aware of the presence of a stranger. 
 Seeing him then, he made a sort of half obeisance of a man that 
 does not know w^hether he is addressing a gentleman or a servant, 
 or, may be, a scamp, going about with, a prospectus. Puff had 
 been bit in the matter of some maps in London, and was wary, as 
 all people ought to be, of these birds. 
 
 The stranger came sidling up with a half bow, half touch of the 
 hat, drawling out, 
 
 *' 'Sceuuse me, sir — 'sceuuse me, sir," with another half bow 
 and another half touch of the hat, *' I'm Mister Bragg, sir 
 — Mister Eichard Bragg, sir ; of whom you have most likely 
 heard." 
 
 " Bragg — Ptichard Bragg," repeated our friend, thoughtfully, 
 while he scanned the man's features, and run his sporting ac- 
 quaintance through his mind's eye. " Bragg, Bragg," repeated 
 he, without hitting him off.
 
 ME. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUP. I'l? 
 
 " I was liuntsmnn, sir, to my lord Reynard, sir," observed the 
 stranger, with a touch of the hat to each "sir." "Thought 
 p'r'aps you might have known his hidship, sir. Before him, sir, 
 I held office, sir, under the Duke of Downeybird, sir, of Downey- 
 bird Castle, sir, in Downeybirdshire, sir." 
 
 *' Indeed ! " replied Mr, Puffington, with a half bow and a 
 smile of politeness. 
 
 " Hearing, sir, you had taken these Mangeysterne dor/s, sir," 
 continued the stranger, with rather a significant emphasis on the 
 word " dogs " — " hearing, sir, you had taken these Mangeysterne 
 doffs, sir, it occurred to me that possibly I might be useful to you, 
 sir, in your new calling, sir ; and if you were of the same 'pinion, 
 sir, why, sir, I should be glad to negotiate a connexion, sir.'' 
 
 " Hem ! — hem ! — hem ! " coughed Mr. Puffington. '• In the 
 way of a huntsman do you mean ? " afraid to talk of servitude to 
 so fine a gentleman. 
 
 " Just so," said Mr. Bragg, with a chuck of his head — "just so. 
 The fact is, though I'm used to the grass countries, sir, and could 
 go to the Marquis of Maneylies, sir, to-morrow, sir, I should prefer 
 a quiet place in a somewhat inferior country, sir, to a live-days-a- 
 week one in the best. Five and six days a-week, sir, is a terrible 
 tax, sir, on the constitution, sir ; and though, sir, I'm thankful to 
 say, sir, I've pretty good 'ealfch, sir, yet, sir, you know, sir, it don't 
 do, sir, to take too great liberties with oneself, sir ; " Mr. Bragg 
 sawing away at his hat as he spoke, measuring off a touch, as 
 it were, to each " sir," the action becoming quick towards the 
 end. 
 
 "Why, to tell you the truth," said Puff, looking rather sheepisli 
 — " to tell you the truth — I intended — I thought at least of — of 
 — of — hunting them myself." 
 
 " Ah ! that's another pair of shoes alfcogether, as we say m 
 France," replied Bragg, with a low bow and a copious round of 
 the hand to the hat. " That's another pair of shoes alfcogether," 
 repeated he, tapping his boot with his whip. 
 
 "Why I ihouglit of it," rejoined Puff, not feeling quite sure 
 whether he could or not. 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Bragg, drawing on his dog-skin glove as if to 
 be off. 
 
 " My friend Swellcove docs it," observed Puff. 
 
 " True," replied Bragg, " true ; but my Lord Swellcove is one 
 of a thousand. See how many have failed for one that has suc- 
 ceeded. Why even my Lord Scamperdale was 'bliged to give it 
 up, and no man rides harder than my I/ord Scamperdale — always 
 goes as if he had a spare neck in his pocket. But he couldn't 
 'unt a pack of 'ounds. Your gen'l'men 'untsmen are all very well 
 on fine scentin' days when everything goes smoothly and well,
 
 218 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 and the 'ounds are tied to their fox as it were ; but see them in 
 difficulties — a failing scent, 'ounds pressed upon by the field, fox 
 chased by a dog, storm in the air, big brook to get over to make a 
 cast. Ob, sir, sir, it makes even me, with all my acknowledged 
 science and experience, shudder to think of the ordeal one 
 undergoes ! " 
 
 " Indeed," exclaimed Mr. Puffington, staring, and beginning to 
 think it mightn't be quite so easy as it looked. 
 
 " I don't wish, sir, to dissuade you, sir, from the attempt, sir," 
 continued Mr. Brag-g ; " far from it, sir — for he, sir, who never 
 makes an effort, sir, never risks a failure, sir, and in great at- 
 tempts, sir, 'tis glorious to fail, sir ;" Mr. Bragg sawing away at 
 his hat as he spoke, and then sticking the fox-head handle of his 
 whip under his chin. 
 
 Puff stood mute for some seconds. 
 
 " My Lord Scamperdale," continued Mr. Bragg, scrutinising 
 our fi'iend attentively, " was as likely a man, sir, as ever I see'd, 
 sir, to make an 'untsman, for he had a deal of ret (rat) ketchin' 
 cunnin' about him, and, as I said before, didn't care one dim for 
 his neck, but a more signal disastrous failure was never recognised. 
 It was quite lamentable to witness his proceedins." 
 
 " How ? " asked Mr. Puffington. 
 
 " How, sir ? " repeated Mr. Bragg ; " why, sir, in all wayscs. 
 He had no dog language, to begin with — he had little idea of 
 makin' a cast — no science, no judgment, no manner — no nothiu* 
 — I'm dim'd if ever I see'd sich a mess as he made." 
 
 Puff looked unutterable things. 
 
 " He never did no good, in fact, till I fit him with Frostyface. 
 / taught Frosty," continued Mr. Bragg. " He whipped in to me 
 Avhen I 'untcd the Duke of Downeybird's 'ounds — nice, 'cute, 
 civil chap he was — of all my pupils — and I've made some first-rate 
 'untsmeu, I'm dim'd if I don't think Frostyface does me about as 
 much credit as any on 'cm. Ah, sir," continued Mr. Bragg, witli 
 a shake of his head ; "take my word for it, sir, there's nothin' 
 like a professional. S-c-e-u-s-e me, sir," added he, with a low 
 bow and a sort of military salute of his hat ; " but dim all 
 gen'l'men 'untsmen, say I." 
 
 Mr, Bragg had talked himself into several good places. Lord 
 Reynard's and the Duke of Downeybird's among others. He had 
 never been able to keep any beyond his third season, his sauce or 
 his science being always greater than the sport he showed. Still 
 he kept up appearances, and was nothing daunted, it being a 
 maxim of his, that "as one door closed another opened." 
 
 Mr. Puffiugton's was the door that now opened for him. 
 
 What greater humiliation can a free-born Briton be subjected 
 to than paying a man eighty or a hundred pounds a-year, and
 
 ME. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUB. 219 
 
 fiiidiug him house, coals, and candles, and perhaps a cow, to be 
 his master ? 
 
 Such was the case with poor Mr. PufFington, and such, we 
 j^*ieve to say, is the case with nine-tenths of the men who keep 
 hounds ; with all, indeed, save those who can hunt themselves, or 
 who are blessed with an aspiring whip, ready to step into the 
 huntsman's boots if he seems inclined to put them off in the field. 
 How many portly butlers are kept in subjection by having a foot- 
 man ready to supplant them. Of all cards in the servitude pack, 
 however, the huntsman's is the most difficult one to play. A man 
 may say, " I'm dim'd if I won't clean my own boots or my own 
 horse, before I'll put up with such a fellow's impudence ;" but 
 when it comes to hunting his own hounds, it is quite another pair 
 of shoes, as Mr. Bragg would say. 
 
 Mr. Bragg regularly took possession of poor Puff ; as regularly 
 as a policeman takes possession of a prisoner. The reader knows 
 the sort of feeling one has when a lawyer, a doctor, an architect, 
 or any one whom we have called in to assist, takes the initiative, 
 and treats one as a nonentity, pooh-poohing all one's pet ideas, 
 and upsetting all one's well-considered arrangements. 
 
 Bragg soon saw he had a greenhorn to deal with, and treated 
 Puff accordingly. If a " perfect servant " is only to be got out of 
 the establishments of the great, Mr. Bragg might be looked upon 
 as a paragon of perfection, and now combined in his own person 
 all the bad practices of all the places he had been in. Having 
 " accepted Mr. Puffiugton's situation," as the elegant phraseology 
 of servitude goes, he considered that Mr. Puffington had nothing 
 more to do with the hounds, and that any interference in " his 
 department" was a piece of impertinence. Puffington felt like a 
 man who has bought a good horse, but which he finds on riding 
 is rather more of a horse than he likes. He had no doubt that 
 Bragg was a good man, but he thought he was rather more of a 
 gentleman than he required. On the other hand, Mr. Bragg's 
 opinion of his master may bs gleaned from the following letter 
 which he wrote to his successor, Mr. Brick, at Lord Keynard's : — 
 
 " Hakbt House, Swillingfoed. 
 "Dear Brick, 
 
 " If yovr old man is done dafflinrj with yovr draft, I should 
 Wee to have the pick of it. Tm ivith one Mr. Puffington, a city 
 gent. His father tvas a great covfectioner in the Ponlfry, JKst hy 
 the Mansion House, and made his money out of Lord Mares. 
 I shall only stay iviih him till I can get myself suited in the ranic 
 of life in which I have been accustomed to move ; hut in the mean- 
 time I consider it necessary for my oicn credit to do tilings as tliey 
 should le. You know my sort of hound; good shoulders, deep
 
 220 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUB. 
 
 chests, strong loins, straiglit legs, round feet, v:ilh plenty of hone all 
 over. I hate a ivcedij animal; a small liound, light of hone, is 
 only fit to hunt a Izatin a Icitclien. 
 
 '•''I shall also want a couple of tvhips — not fellows lilce icaiters 
 from Crawley's hotel, hut light, active men, not hoys. I'll have 
 nothin' to do with hoys ; every hoy requires a man to loolo arter 1dm. 
 No ; a couple of short, light, active men— say from five-and-lwenty 
 to thirty, tvith how-legs and good cheery voices, as nearly of the same 
 make as you can find them. I shall not give them large wage, you 
 know ; hut they ivill have opportunities of improviny themselves 
 under me, and qualifying themselves for high places. But mind, 
 titey must be steady — I'll keep no unsteady servants ; the first 
 act of drunkenness, tviih me, is the last. 
 
 "/ shall also tvant a second horseman; and here I woiddnH 
 mind a mute hoy tvho coidd keep his elbows down and never touch 
 the curb ; hut he must he hred in the line ; a huntsmcm's second 
 horseman is a critical article, and the sporting tvorld must not he 
 put in mourning for Dick Bragg. The lad ivill Imve to clean my 
 hoots, and tuai't at tahle ivhen I have company — yourself, for 
 instance. 
 
 " Tliis is only a pioor, rough, un'jcntlemanly sort of shire, as far 
 as I have seen of it; and however they got on luith tlie. things I 
 found that they called hounds I can't for tlie life of me imagine. I 
 understand they ivent stringing over the countrg like a flock of ivild 
 (jeese. However, I have rectified that in a manner hg knocking all 
 i lie fast' uns and slow 'wis on tlie head; and I sliall require at 
 least twenty couple before I can take the field. In your official 
 report of ivhat your old file puts back, you II have the kindness to 
 cobble us up good long pedigrees, and carry half of them at least bade 
 to the Beaufort Justice. My ma?i has yot a crochet into his head 
 about that hound, ami I'm dimmed if he doesn't think half the 
 hounds in England are descended from the Beaufort Justice. These 
 hounds are at present called tlie Mangeysternes, a very proper title, I 
 should say, from all I've seen and heard. That, hoiv ever, must be 
 changed ; and we must have a button struck, instead of the plain 
 pewter plates the men have been in the habit of hunting in. 
 
 " As to horses, I'm sure I don't knoto what we are to do in that 
 line. Our pastrycook seems to think that a hunter, like one of his 
 pa's pics, can be made and baked in a day. He talks of going over 
 to Rowdedow Fair, and picking some up himself; hut I should say 
 a gentleman demeans himself sadly who interferes with the just 
 prerogative of the groom. It has never been allowed I know in any 
 place I have lived ; nor do I think servants do justice to themselves 
 or their order tvho submit to it. Howsomever, the crittur has 
 ivhai Mr. Cobden ivould call the '■raw material' for sport — that 
 is to say, plenty of money — and I must see and apply it in such a
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 221 
 
 way as ivill p-oduce it. Fll do ihc thing as it slioidd he, or not at 
 alt. 
 
 '•/ Iwpe your good lady is well — also all the little Brichs. 1 
 •pvrposa malting a tittle tower of some of the best kennels as soon as 
 the drafts are arranged, and will spend a day or ttvo ivith you, and 
 see how you get on without me. Dear Brick, 
 
 "To Bexjamin Brick, Esq., 
 
 " Yours to the far end, 
 
 "PtiCHARD Bragg. 
 
 Huiitstuan to the Rij;ht Hon. the Eail of Reynard, 
 Tuikeypout Pai'k. 
 
 "P.S. — I hope your old man keejis a cleaner tongue in his head 
 than lie did when I was p-emier. I always say there ivas a good 
 largeman sjjoilcd u'hen they made him a lord. 
 
 "R. B." 
 
 There is nothing more indicative of real fine people than the 
 easy indifierent sort of way they take leave of their friends. They 
 never seem to care a farthing for parting. 
 
 Our friend Jawleyford was quite a man of liishion in this 
 respect. He saw Sponge's preparations for departure with an un- 
 concerned air, and a — " sorry you're going," was all that accom- 
 panied an imitation shake, or rather touch of the hand, on leavin"-. 
 There was no "I hope we shall see you again soon," or "Pray 
 look in if you are passing our way," or " Now that you've found 
 your way here we hope you'll not be long in being back," or any 
 of those blarneyments that fools take for earnest and wise men for 
 nothing. Jawleyford had been bit once, and he was not going to 
 give Mv. Sponge a second chance, Amelia too, we are sorry to 
 say, did not seem particularly distressed, though she gave him just 
 as much of a sweet look as he squeezed her hand, as said, " Now, 
 if you should be a man of money, and my Lord Scamperdale does 
 not make me my lady, you may," &c. 
 
 There is an old saying, that it is Avell to be "off with the old love 
 before one is on with the new," and Amelia thought it was well to 
 be on with the new love before she was off with the old. Sponge, 
 therefore, was to be in abeyance. 
 
 We mentioned the delight infused into Jawleyford Court by the 
 receipt of Lord Scamperdale's letter, volunteering a visit, nor was 
 his lordship less gratified at hearing in reply that Mr. Sponge was 
 on the eve of departure, leaving the coast clear for his reception. 
 His lordship was not only delighted at getting rid of his horror, 
 but at proving the superiority of his judgment over that of Jack, 
 who had always stoutly maintained that the only way to get rid of 
 Mr. Sponge was by buying his horses.
 
 222 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 " Well, that's good," said his lordship, as he read the letter ; 
 " that's good," repeated he, with a hearty slap of his thigh. " Jaw's 
 not such a bad chap after all ; worse chaps in the world than 
 Jaw." And his lordship worked away at the point till he very 
 nearly got him up to be a good chap. 
 
 They say it never rains but it pours, and letters seldom come 
 singly, at least if they do, they are quickly followed by others. 
 
 As Jack and his lordship were discussing their gin, after a 
 repast of cow-heel and batter-pudding, Baggs entered with the old 
 brown weather-bleached letter-bag, containing a county paper, the 
 second-hand copy of BelVs Life, that his lordship and Frostyface 
 took in between them, and a very natty " thick ci-eam-laid " paper 
 note. 
 
 " That must be from a woman," observed Jack, squinting ar- 
 dently at the writing, as his lordship inspected the fine seal. 
 
 " Not far wrong," replied his lordship. " From a bitch of a 
 fellow, at all events," said he, reading the words " Hanby House " 
 in the wax. 
 
 " What can old Puffey be wanting now ? " inquired Jack. 
 
 " Some bother about hounds, most likely," replied his lordship, 
 breaking the seal, adding, the thing's always amusing itself with 
 playing at sportsman. Hang his impudence ! " exclaimed his 
 lordship, as he opened the note. 
 
 " What's happened now ? " asked Jack. 
 
 " How d'ye think he begins ? " asked his lordship, looking at 
 his friend. 
 
 " Can't tell, I'm sure," said Jack, squinting his eyes inside out, 
 
 " Dear Scamp ! " exclaimed his lordship, throwing out his arms. 
 
 " Dear Scamp ! " repeated Jack in astonishment. " It must be 
 a mistake. It must be dear Frost, not dear Scamp." 
 
 " Dear Scamp is the word," replied his lordship, again applying 
 himself to the letter. " Dear Scamp," repeated he, with a snort, 
 adding, " the impudent button-maker ! I'll dear Scamp him ! 
 ' Dear Scamp, our friend Sponge ! ' Bo-o-7j the powers, just fancy 
 that ! " exclaimed his lordship, throwing himself back in his chair, 
 as if thoroughly overcome with disgust. " Our friend Sponge ! 
 the man who nearly knocked me into the middle of the week after 
 iicxt — the man who, first and last, has broken every bone in my 
 skin— the man who I hate the sight of, and detest afresh every 
 time I see — the 'bomination of all 'bominations ; and then to call 
 him our friend Sponge ! ' Our friend Sponge,' " continued his 
 lordship, reading, " ' is coming on a visit of inspection to my 
 hounds, and I should be glad if you would meet him.' " 
 
 " Shouldn't wonder ! " exclaimed Jack. 
 
 '* Meet him I " snapped his lordship ; " I'd go ten miles to avoid 
 him."
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SFOIITING TOUR. 223 
 
 "'Glad if you would meet him,'" repeated his lordsiiip, re- 
 turning to the letter, and reading as follows : " ' If you bring a 
 rouple of nags or so we can put them up, and you may get a 
 wrinkle or two from Bragg.' A wrinkle or two from Bragg ! " 
 exclaimed his lordship, dropping the letter and rolling in his cbair 
 with laughter. " A wrinkle or two from Bragg ! — he — he — he — 
 he ! The idea of a wrinkle or two from Bragg ! — haw — haw — 
 haw — haw ! " 
 
 " That beats cockfightiuV' observed Jack, squinting frightfully. 
 
 " Doesn't it ? " replied his lordship. " The man who's so brim- 
 ful of science that he doesn't kill above three brace of foxes in a 
 season." 
 
 " Which Puff calls thirty," observed Jack. 
 
 "Th-i-r-ty !" exclaimed his lordship ; adding, " I'll lay he'll 
 not kill thirty in ten years." 
 
 His lordship then picked the letter from the floor, and resumed 
 where he had left off. 
 
 '' * I expect you will meet Tom Washball, Lumpleg, and Charley 
 Slapp.' " 
 
 " A very pretty party," observed Jack : adding, " Wouldn't bo 
 seen goin' to a bull-bait with any on 'cm." 
 
 " Nor I," replied his lordship. 
 
 " Birds of a feather," observed Jack. 
 
 "Just so," said his lordship, resuming his reading. 
 
 " ' I think I have a hound that may be useful to you — ' The 
 devil you have ! " exclaimed his lordship, gTinding his teeth with 
 disgust. " Usefnl to 5??^, you confounded haberdasher ! — you 
 liav'n't a hound in your pack that I'd take, ' I think I have a 
 hound that may be useful to you — ' " repeated his lordship. 
 
 " A Beaufort Justice one, for a guinea ! " interrupted Jack ; 
 adding, " He got the name into his head at Oxford, and has beeu 
 harping upon it ever since." 
 
 " ' I think I have a hound that may be useful to you — ' " re- 
 sumed his lordship, for the third time. "'It is Old Merriman, a 
 remarkably stout, true line hunting hound ; but who is getting 
 slow for me — ' Slow for you, you beggar ! " exclaimed his lord- 
 ship ; " I should have thought nothin' short of a wooden 'un would 
 have been too slow for you. ' He is a six-season hunter, and is by 
 Fitzwilliam's Singwell, out of his Darling. Singwell was by the 
 Rutland Eallyivood, out of Tavistock's Rhapsody. Rallywood was 
 by Old Lonsdale's — ' Old Lonsdale's ! — the snob ! " sneered Lord 
 Scamperdale — " ' Old Lonsdale's Palafox, out of Anson's — ' 
 " Anson's ! — curse the fellow^" again muttered his lordship — 
 " ' out of Anson's Madrigal. Darling was by Old Grafton's 
 Bolivar, out of Blowzy. Bolivar was by the Brocklesby ; that's 
 Yarborough's — ' That's Yarborough's ! " sneered his lordship.
 
 224 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 " as if one didn't know that as well as him — ' by the Broclclcsby ; 
 that's Yarborough's Marmion out of Petre's Matchless ; ami 
 Marmion was by that undeniable hound, the — ' tlie — what ? " 
 asked his lordship. 
 
 " Beaufort Justice, to be sure ! " replied Jack. 
 
 " ' The Beaufort Justice ! ' " read his lordship, with duo 
 emphasis. 
 
 " Hurrah ! " exchximed Jack, waving the dirty, egg-stained, 
 raustardy copy of Bell's Life over his head. " Hurrah ! I told 
 you so." 
 
 " But hark to Justice 1 " exclaimed his lordship, resuming his 
 reading. " ' I've always been a great admirer of the Beaufort 
 Justice blood — ' " 
 
 " No doubt," said Jack ; " it's the only blood you know." 
 
 " ' It was in great repute in the Badminton country in Old 
 Beaufort's time, with whom I hunted a great deal many years ago, 
 I'm sorry to say. The late Mr. Warde, who, of course, was very 
 justly partial to his own sort, had never any objection to breeding 
 from this Beaufort Justice. He was of Lord Egremont's blood, 
 by the New Forest Justice ; Justice by Mr. Gilbert's Jasper ; and 
 Jasper, bred by Egremont — ' Oh, the hosier ! " exclaimed his 
 lordship ; " he'll be the death of me." 
 
 " Is that all ? " asked Jack, as his lordship seemed lost in 
 meditation. 
 
 *' AU ? — no ! " replied he, starting up, adding : " Here's some- 
 thing about you." 
 
 " Me ! " exclaimed Jack. 
 
 " ' If Mr. Spraggon is with you, and you like to bring him, I 
 can manage to put him up too,' " read his lordship. " What 
 think you of that ? " asked his lordship, turning to our friend, 
 who was now squinting his eyes inside out Avith anger. 
 
 " Think of it ! " retorted Jack, kicking out his legs — " think of 
 it ! — why, I think he's a dim'd impittant feller, as Bragg would 
 say." 
 
 " So he is," replied his lordship ; " treating my friend Jack 
 so." 
 
 " I've a good mind to go," observed Jack, after a pause, think- 
 ing he might punish Puff, and try to do a little business with 
 Sponge. " I've a good mind to go," repeated he ; "just by way 
 of paying Mr. Pufl" off. He's a consequential jackass, and wants 
 taking down a peg or two." 
 
 " I think you may as well go and do it," replied his lordship, 
 after thinking the matter over ; " I think you may as well go and do 
 it. Not that he'll be good to take the conceit out of, but you may 
 vex him a bit ; and also learn something of the movements of his 
 friend Sponge. If he sarves Puff out as he's sarved me," continued
 
 3IR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 225 
 
 his lordship, rubbinir his ribs witli his elbows, " he'll very soon 
 have enough of him." 
 
 " Well," said Jack, " I really think it will be worth doing. 
 I've never been at the beggar's shop, and they say he lives well." 
 
 " Well, aye ! " exclaimed his lordship ; " fat o' the land — dare 
 say that man has fish and soup every day." 
 
 '"And wax-candles to read by, most likely," observed Jack, 
 squinting at the dim mutton-fats that Baggs now brought in. 
 
 " Not so grand as //;«/," observed his lordship, doubting 
 whether any man could be guilty of such extravagance ; " Com- 
 posites, p'raps." 
 
 It being decided that Jack should answer Mr. Puffington's 
 invitation as well and saucily as he could, and a sheet of very 
 inferior paper being at length discovered in the sideboard drawer, 
 our friends forthwith proceeded to concoct it. Jack having at 
 length got all square, and the black-ink lines introduced below, 
 dipped iiis pen in the little stone ink-bottle, and, squinting up at 
 his lordship, said, 
 
 " How shall I begin ? " 
 
 " Begin ? " replied he. " Begin — oh, let's see — begin — begin. 
 * Dear Puff,' to be sure." 
 
 " That'll do," said Jack, writing away. 
 
 (" Dear Puft' ! " sneered our friend, when he read it ; " the idea 
 ■of a fellow like that writing to a man of my p-r-o-r-perty that 
 way.") 
 
 " Say * Scamp,' " continued his lordship, dictating again, " ' is 
 engaged, but I'U be with you at feeding-time.' " 
 
 (" Scamp's engaged," read Puffington, with a contemptuous 
 curl of the lip — "Scamp's engaged: I like the impudence of a 
 fellow like that calling noblemen nicknames.") 
 
 The letter concluded by advising Puffington to stick to the 
 Beaufort Justice blood, for there was nothing in the world like it. 
 And now, having got both our friends booked for visits, we must 
 yield ]ivecedcnce to the nobleman, and accompany him to Jawley- 
 ford C(jurt.
 
 226 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTINU TOUR. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIY. 
 
 LORD SCAMPERDALE AT JAWLEYFORD COURT. 
 
 yf^fy^y^/^' ^.^P;^#i^<^ 
 
 't^jt'^ 
 
 LORD SCAMPEUDALE AS HE APPEAUED IN HIS " SWF.LL CLOTHES. 
 
 Although we have hitherto depicted Lord Scamperdale either 
 in his great uncouth hunting-clothes, or in the flare-up red and 
 yellow Stunner tartan, it must not l)e supposed that he had not 
 tine clothes when he chose to wear them, only he wanted to save 
 them, as he said, to be married in. That he had fine ones, indeed, 
 was evident from the rig-out he lent Jack, when that worthy went 
 to Jawlcyford Court, and, in addition to those which were of the 
 evening order, he had an uncommonly smart Stultz frock-coat, 
 with a velvet collar, facings, and cuifs, and a silk lining. Though 
 so rough and ready among the men, he was quite the dandy 
 among the ladies, and was as anxious about his appearance as a 
 girl of sixteen. He got himself clipped and trimmed, and shaved 
 with the greatest care, curving his whiskers high on to the cheek- 
 bones, leaving a great breadth of bare fallow below. 
 
 Baggs the butler was despatched betimes to Jawleyford Court
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 227 
 
 with the dog-cart freighted with clothes, driven by a groom to 
 attend to the horses, wliile his lordship mounted bis galloping grey 
 hack towards noon, and dashed through the country like a comet. 
 The people, who were only accustomed to see him in his short, 
 country-cut hunting-coats, baggy breeches, and shapeless boots, 
 could hardly recognise the frock-coated, fancy-vested, military- 
 trousered swell, as Lord Scamperdale. Even Titus Grabbington, 
 the superintendent of police, declared that he wouldn't have known 
 him but for his hat and specs. The latter, we need hardly say, 
 M'ere the silver ones — the pair that he Avould not let Jack have 
 when he went to Jawleyford Court. So his lordship went capering 
 and careering along ; avoiding, of course, all the turnpike-gates, 
 of which he had a mortal aversion. 
 
 Jawleyford Court was in full dress to receive him — everything 
 was fiill fig. Spigot appeared in buckled shorts and black silk 
 stockings ; while vases of evergreens and winter flowers mounted 
 sentiy on passage tables and landing-places. Everything bespoke 
 the elegant presence of the fair. 
 
 To the credit of Dame Fortune let us record that everything 
 went smoothly and well. Even the kitchen fire behaved as it 
 ought. Neither did Lord Scamperdale arrive before he was 
 wanted, a very common custom with people unused to public 
 visiting. He cast up just when he was wanted. His ring of the 
 door-bell acted like the little tinkling-bell at a theatre, sending all 
 parties to their places, for the curtain to rise. 
 
 Spigot and his two footmen answered the summons, while his 
 lordship's groom rushed out of a side-door, with his mouth full of 
 cold meat, to take his hack. 
 
 Having given his flat hat to Spigot, his whip-stick to one foot- 
 man, and his gloves to the other, he proceeded to the family 
 tableau in the drawing-room. 
 
 Though his lordship lived so much by himself he was neither 
 gauche nor stupid when he went into society. Unlike Mr. 
 Spraggon, he had a tremendous determination of words to the 
 mouth, and went best pace with his tongue instead of coughing 
 and hemming, and stammering and stuttering, wishing himself 
 "' well out of it," as the saying is. His seclusion only seemed to 
 sharpen his faculties and make him enjoy society more. He 
 gushed forth like a pent-up fountain. He was not a bit afraid of 
 the ladies — rather the contrary ; indeed, he would make love to 
 them all — all that were good-looking, at least, for he always 
 candidly said that he "wouldn't have anything to do with the 
 ugly 'uns." If anything, he was rather too vehement, and talked 
 to the ladies in such an earnest, interested sort of way, as made 
 even bystanders think there was " something in it," whereas, in 
 point of fact, it was mere manner. 
 
 Q 2
 
 228 3IR. SPONGE' ii SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 He began as soon as ever he got to Jawleyford Court, — at least 
 as soon as he had paid his respects all round and got himself 
 partially thawed at the fire ; for the cold had struck through his 
 person, his fine clothes being a poor substitute for his thick double- 
 milled red coat, blankety waistcoat, and Jersey shirt. 
 
 There are some good-natured well-meaning people in this world 
 who think that fox-hunters can talk of nothing but hunting, and 
 who put themselves to very serious inconvenience in endeavouring 
 to get up a little conversation for them. We knew a bulky old 
 boy of this sort, who invariably, after the cloth was drawn, and be 
 had given each leg a kick-out to sec if they were on, commenced 
 with, " Well, I suppose Mr. Harkington has a fine set of dogs this 
 season ? " "A fine set of dogs this season ! " "What an observa- 
 tion ! How on earth could any one hope to drive a conversation 
 on the subject with such a commencement ? 
 
 Some ladies are equally obliging in this respect. They can 
 stoop to almost any subject that they think will procure them 
 husbands. Music ! — if a man is fond of music, they will sing 
 themselves into his good graces in no time. Painting ! — oh, they 
 adore painting — though in general they don't profess to be great 
 hands at it themselves. Balls, boating, archery, racing, — all these 
 they can take a lively interest in ; ar, if occasion requires, can go 
 on the serious tack and hunt a parson with penny subscriptions 
 for a clothing-club or soup-kitchen. 
 
 Fox-hunting ! — we do not know that fox-hunting is so safe a 
 speculation for young ladies as any of the foregoing. There are 
 many pros and cons in the matter of the chase. A man may 
 think — especially in these hard times, with " wheat below forty," 
 as Mr. Springwheat would say — that it will be as much as he can 
 do to mount himself. Again, he may not think a lady looks any 
 better for running down with perspiration, and being daubed with 
 mud. Above all, if he belongs to the worshipful company of 
 Craners, he may not like for his wife to be seen beating him across 
 country. 
 
 Still, there are many ways tliat young ladies may insinuate 
 themselves into the good graces of sportsmen without following 
 them into the hunting-field. Talking about their horses, above all 
 admiring them, — taking an interest in their sport, — seeing that 
 they have nice papers of sandwiches to take out with them, — or 
 recommending them to be bled when they come home with dirty 
 faces after falls. 
 
 Miss Amelia Jawleyford, who wns most elegantly attired in a 
 sea-green silk dress with large imitation pearl buttons, claiming 
 the usual privilege of seniority of birth, very soon led the charge 
 against Lord Scamperdale. 
 
 " Oh, what a lovely horse that is you were riding," observed
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SFOETING TOUR. 229 
 
 she, as his lordship kept stooping with both his little red fists close 
 into the bars of the grate. 
 
 " Isn't it ! " exclaimed he, rubbing his hands heartily together. 
 " Isn't it ! " repeated he ; adding, " That's what I call a clipper." 
 
 " Why do you call it so ? " asked she. 
 
 " Oh, I don't mean that chpper is its name," replied he ; 
 *' indeed, we call her Cherry Bounce in the stable, — but she's what 
 they call a clipper — a good 'un to go, you know," continued he, 
 staring at the fair speaker through his great, formidable 
 spectacles. 
 
 We believe there is nothing frightens a woman so much as 
 staring at her through spectacles. A barrister in barnacles is a 
 far more formidable cross-examiner than one without. But, to 
 his lordship's hack. 
 
 "Will he eat bread out of your hand ? " asked Amelia ; adding, 
 " I should so like a horse that would eat bread out of my hand." 
 
 " Oh, yes ; or cheese either," replied his lordship, who was a bit 
 of a wag, and as likely to try a horse with one as the other. 
 
 " Oh, how delightful ! what a charming horse ! " exclaimed 
 Amelia, turning her fine eyes up to the ceiling. 
 
 "Are you fond of horses ? " asked his lordship, smacking one 
 hand against the other, making a noise like the report of a pistol. 
 
 " Oh, so fond ! " exclaimed Amelia, with a start ; for she hadn't 
 got through her favourite, and, as she thought, most attractive 
 attitude. 
 
 " Well, now, that's nice,'''' said his lordship, giving his other 
 hand a similar bang ; adding, " I like a woman that's fond of 
 horses." 
 
 "Then 'Melia and you'll 'gree nicely," observed Mrs. Jawley- 
 ford, who was always ready to give a helping hand to her own 
 daughters, at least. 
 
 " I don't doubt it ! " replied his lordship, with emphasis, and a 
 third bang of his hand, louder if possible than before. " And do 
 you like horses ? " asked his lordship, darting sharply round on 
 Emily, who had been yielding, or rather submitting, to the 
 precedence of her sister. 
 
 " Oh, yes ; and hounds, too ! " replied she, eagerly. 
 
 " And hounds, too ! " exclaimed his lordship, with a start, and 
 another hearty bang of the fist ; adding, " Well, now, I Mice a 
 woman that likes hounds." 
 
 Amelia frowned at the unhandsome march her sister had stolen 
 upon her. Just then in came Jawleyford, much to the annoyance 
 of all parties. A host should never show before the dressing-bell 
 rings. 
 
 When that glad sound was at length heard, the ladies, as usual, 
 immediately withdrew ; and of course the first thing Amelia did
 
 230 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 when she ,c:ofc to her room was to run to the glass to see how rIio 
 had been looking ; when, grievous to relate, she found an angry 
 hot spot in the act of breaking out on her nose. 
 
 What a distressing situation for a young lady, especially one 
 with a spectacled suitor. " Oh, dear ! " she thought, as she eyed 
 it in the glass, " it will look like Vesuvius it.'ielf through hia 
 formidable inquisitors." Worst of all, it was on the side she 
 would have next him an dinner, should he choose to sit with his 
 back to the fire. However, there was no help for it, and the maid 
 kindly assuring her, as she worked away at her hair, that it 
 " would never be seen," she ceased to watch it, and turned her 
 attention to her toilette. The fine, new broad-lace flounced, light 
 blue satin dress — a dress so much like a ball-dress as to be only 
 appreciable as a dinner one by female eyes — was again in requisi- 
 tion ; while her fine arms were encircled with chains and armlets 
 of various brilliance and devices. Thus attired, with a parting 
 inspection of the spot, she swept down stairs, with as smart a 
 bouquet as the season would afford. As luck would have it, she 
 encountered his lordship himself wandering about the passage in 
 search of the drawing-room, of whose door he had not made a 
 suificient observation on leaving. He, too, was uncommonly 
 smart, with the identical dress-coat Mr. Spraggon wore, a white 
 waistcoat with turquoise buttons, a lace-frilled shirt, and a most 
 extensive once-round Joinville. He had been eminently successful 
 in accomplishing a tie thart would almost rival the sticks farmers 
 put upon truant geese to prevent their getting through gaps or 
 under gates. 
 
 AVell, Miss Amelia having come to his lordship's assistance, and 
 eased him of his candle, now showed him into the drawing-room ; 
 and his hands being disengaged, like a true Englishman, he must 
 be doing, and accordingly he commenced an attack on her 
 bouquet. 
 
 " That's a fine nosegay ! " exclaimed he, staring and running 
 his snub nose into the midst of it. 
 
 " Let me give you a piece," replied Amelia, proceeding to detach 
 some of the best. 
 
 " Do," replied his lordship, banging one hand against the other; 
 adding, *' I'll wear it next my heart of hearts." 
 
 In sidled Miss Emily just as his lordship was adjusting it in 
 his buttonhole, and the inconstant man immediately chopped over 
 to her. 
 
 " Well, now, that is a beautiful nosegay ! " exclaimed he, 
 turning upon her in precisely the same way, with a bang of the 
 hand and a dive of his nose into Emily's. 
 
 She did not offer him any, and his lordship continued his atten- 
 tion to her until Mrs. Jawleyford entered.
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 231 
 
 Dinner was presently announced ; but bis lordship, instead of 
 choosing to sit with bis back to the fire, took the single chair 
 opposite, which gave him a commanding view of the young ladies. 
 He did not, however, take any advantage of his position during 
 the repast, neither did he talk much, bis maxim being to let his 
 meat stop bis mouth. The preponderance of bis observations, 
 perhaps, were addressed to Amelia, though a watchful observer 
 might have seen that the spectacles were oftener turned upon 
 Emily. Up to the withdrawal of the cloth, however, there was 
 no perceptible advantage on either side. 
 
 As his lordship settled to the sweets, at which he was a great 
 hand at dessert, Amelia essayed to try her influence with the 
 popular subject of a ball. 
 
 " I wish the members of your hunt would give us a ball, my 
 lord," observed she. 
 
 " Ah, hay, hum, ball," replied be, ladling up the syrup of some 
 preserved peaches that he bad been eating ; " ball, ball, ball. No 
 place to give it — no place to give it," repeated he. 
 
 " Oh, give it in the toAvn-hall, or the long room at the Angel," 
 replied she. 
 
 " Town-hall — long room at the Angel — Angel at the long room 
 of the town-hall — oh, certainly, certainly, certainly," muttered he, 
 scraping away at the contents of his plate. 
 
 " Then that's a bargain, mind," observed Amelia, significantly. 
 
 " Bargain, bargain, bargain — certainly," replied he ; " and I'll 
 lead off with you, or you'U lead oiF with me — whichever way it is — 
 meanwhile, I'll trouble you for a piece of that gingerbread." 
 
 Having supplied him with a most liberal slice, she resumed the 
 subject of the ball. 
 
 " Then we'll fix it so," observed she. 
 
 " Oh, fix it so, certainly — certainly fix it so," rei)lied his lord- 
 ship, filling his mouth full of gingerbread. 
 
 " Suppose we have it on the day of the races ? " continued 
 Amelia. 
 
 " Couldn't be better," replied his lordship ; " couldn't be 
 better," repeated he, eyeing her intently tlii'ough his formidable 
 specs. 
 
 His lordship was quite in the assenting humour, and would 
 have agreed to anything — anything short of lending one a five- 
 pound note. 
 
 Amelia was charmed with her success. Despite the spot on her 
 nose, she felt she was winning. 
 
 His lordship sat like a target, shot at by all, but making the 
 most of his time, both in the way of eating and staring between 
 questions. 
 
 At length the ladies withdrew, and his lordship having waddled
 
 232 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 to the door to assist their egress, now availed himself of Jawley- 
 ford's invitation to occupy an arm-chair during the enjoyment of 
 his " Wintle." 
 
 Whether it was the excellence of the beverage, or that his lord- 
 ship was unaccustomed to wine-drinking, or that Jawleyford's 
 conversation was unusually agreeable, we know not, but the 
 summons to tea and coffee was disregarded, and when at length 
 they did make their appearance, his lordship was what the ladies 
 call rather elevated, and talked thicker than there was any occasion 
 for. He was very voluble at first — told all how Sponge had 
 knocked him about, how he detested him, and wouldn't allow him 
 to come to the hunt ball, &c. ; but he gradually died out, and at 
 last fell asleep beside Mrs. Jawleyford on the sofa, with his little 
 legs crossed, and a half-emptied coffee-cup in his hand, which Mr. 
 Jawleyford and she kept anxiously watching, expecting the con- 
 tents to be over the fine satin furniture every moment. 
 
 In this pleasant position they remained till he awoke himself 
 with a hearty snore, and turned the coffee over on to the carpet. 
 Fortunately there was little damage done, and, it being nearly 
 twelve o'clock, his lordship waddled off to bed. 
 
 Amelia, when she came to think matters over in the retirement 
 of her own room, was well satisfied with the progress she had 
 made. She thought she only wanted opportunity to capture him. 
 Though she was most anxious for a good night in order that she 
 might ajipear to advantage in the morning, sleep forsook her 
 eyelids, and she lay awake long thinking what she would do when 
 she was my lady — how she would warm Woodmansterne, and 
 what a dashing equipage she would keep. At length she dropped 
 off, just as she thought she was getting into her well-appointed 
 chariot, showing a becoming portion of her elegantly turned 
 ankles. 
 
 In the morning she attired herself in her new light satin blue 
 robe, corsage Albanaise, with a sort of three-quarter sleeves, and 
 muslin under ones — something, we believe, out of the last book of 
 fashion. She also had her hair uncommonly well arranged, and 
 sported a pair of clean primrose-coloured gloves. "Now for 
 victory," said she, as she took a parting glance at herself in 
 general, and the hot spot in particular. 
 
 Judge of her disgust on meeting her mamma on the staircase 
 at learning that his lordship had got up at six o'clock, and had 
 gone to meet his hounds on the other side of the county. That 
 Baggs had boiled his oatmeal porridge in his bedroom, and his 
 lordship had eaten it as he was dressing. 
 
 It may be asked, what was the maid about not to tell her. 
 
 The fact is, that ladies'-maids are only numb hands in all that 
 relates to hunting, and though Juliana knew that his lordship
 
 ME. SPONGE'S SPOUTING TOUR. 23? 
 
 was up, she thought he hr.d gone to have his hunt before break- 
 fast, just as the young gentlemen in tlic last place she lived in- 
 used to go and have a bathe. 
 
 Baggs, we may add, was a married man, and Juliana and he- 
 had not had much conversation. 
 
 The reader will now have the kindness to consider that Mr, 
 Puflington has undergone his swell huntsman, Dick Bragg, for 
 three whole years, during which time it was difficult to say whether 
 his winter's service or his summer's impudence was most oppressive. 
 Either way, Mr. Puffington had had enough both of him and the 
 honours of hound-keeping. ]\Ir. Bragg was not a judicious- 
 tyrant. He lorded it too much over Mr. Puffington ; was too- 
 fond of showing himself off, and exposing his master's ignorance 
 before the servants, and field. A stranger would have thought 
 that Mr. Bragg, and not " Mr. Puff," as Bragg called hira, kept 
 the hounds. Mr. Puffington took it pretty quietly at first, Bragg' 
 inundating him with what they did at the Duke of Downeybird's, 
 Lord Reynard's, and the other great places in which he had lived, 
 till he almost made Puff" believe that such treatment was a 
 necessary consequence of houad-keeping. Moreover, the cost was 
 heavy, and the promised subscriptions were almost wholly 
 imaginary ; even if they had been paid, they would not have- 
 covered a quarter of the expense Mr. Bragg run him to ; and, 
 worst of all, there was an increasing instead of a diminishing 
 expenditure. Trust a servant for keeping things up to the 
 mark. 
 
 All things, liowcver, have an end, and Mr. Bragg began to get 
 to the end of Mr. Puff's patience. As Puff" got older he got fonder 
 of his five-pound notes, and began to scrutinise bills and ask 
 questions ; to be, as Mr. Bragg said, "very httle of the gentle- 
 man ; " Bragg, however, being quite one of your " make-hay- 
 while-the-sun-shines " sort, and knowing too well the style of 
 man to calculate on a lengthened duration of office, just put on 
 the steam of extravagance, and seemed inclined to try how much 
 he could spend for his master. His bills for draft hounds were 
 enormous ; he was continually chopping and changing his horses^ 
 often almost without consulting his master ; he had a perfect 
 museum of saddles and bridles, in which every invention and 
 variety of bit was exhibited ; and he had paid as much as twenty 
 pounds to different "valets" and grooms for invaluable recipes 
 for cleaning leather breeches and gloves. Altogether, Bragg" 
 overdid the thing ; and when Mr. Puffington, in the solitude of a 
 winter's day, took pen, ink, and paper, and drew out a " balance 
 sheet," he found that on the average of six brace of foxes to the 
 season, they had cost him about three hundred pounds a-head 
 killing. It was true that Bragg always returned five or six-and-
 
 234 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 twenty brace -, but that was as between Bragg and the pubh'c, 
 as between Bragg and his master the smaller figure was the 
 amount. 
 
 Mr. Puffington had had enough of it, and he now thought if he 
 could get Mr. Sponge (who he still believed to be a sporting 
 author on his travels) to immortalise him, he might retire into 
 privacy, and talk of " when / kept hounds," " when / hunted the 
 country," " when / was master of hounds / did this, and / did 
 that," and fuss, and be important, as we often see X-masters of 
 hounds when they go out with other packs. It was this erroneous 
 impression with regard to Mr. Sponge that took our friend to the 
 meet of Lord Scamperdale's hounds at Scrambleford Green, when 
 he gave Mr. Sponge a general invitation to visit him before he 
 left the country, an invitation that was as acceptable to Mr. Sponge 
 on his expulsion from Jawleyford Court, as it was agreeable to 
 Mr. Puffington — by opening a route by which he might escape 
 from the penalty of hound-keeping, and the persecution of his 
 huntsman. 
 
 The reader will therefore now have the kindness to consider 
 Mr. Puifington in receipt of Mr. Sponge's note, volunteering a 
 visit. 
 
 With gay and cheerful steps our friend hurried off to the kennel, 
 to communicate the intelligence to Mr. Bragg of an intended 
 honour that he inwardly hoped would have the effect of 
 extinguishing that great sporting luminary. 
 
 Arriving at the kennel, he learned from the old feeder. Jack 
 Horsehide, who, as usual, was sluicing the flags with water, 
 though the weather was wet, that Mr. Bragg Avas in the house (a 
 house that had been the steward's in the days of the former 
 owner of Hanby House). Thither Mr. Puffington proceeded ; and 
 the front dooi- being open he entered, and made for the little 
 parlour on the right. Opening the door without knocking, what 
 should he find but the swell huntsman, Mr. Bragg, full fig, in his 
 cap, best scarlet and leathers, astride a saddle-stand, sitting for his 
 portrait ! 
 
 " 0, dim it ! " exclaimed Bragg, clasping the front of the stand 
 as if it was a horse, and throwing himself off, an operation that 
 had the effect of bringing the new saddle on which he was seated 
 bang on the floor. " 0, sc-e-e-use me, sir," seeing it was his 
 master, " I thought it was my servant ; this, sir," continued he, 
 blushing and looking as foolish as men do when caught getting 
 their hair curled or sitting for their portraits, — " this, sir, is my 
 friend, Mr. Puddle, the painter, sir — yes, sir— very talented 
 young man, sir — asked me to sit for my portrait, sir — is going to 
 publish a series of portraits of all the best huntsmen in England, 
 sir."
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUB. 235 
 
 " And masters of hounds," interposed Mr. Ruddle, casting a 
 elieep's eye at Mr. Puffington. 
 
 " And masters of hounds, sir," repeated Mr. Bragg ; " yes, sir, 
 and masters of liounds, sir ; " Mr. Bragg being still somewhat 
 flurried at the unexpected intrusion. 
 
 " Ah, well," interrupted Mr. Puffington, who was still eager 
 about his mission, " we'll talk about that after. At present I'm 
 come to tell you," continued he, holding up Mr. Sponge's note, 
 " that we must brush up a little — going to have a visit of inspec- 
 tion from the great Mr. Sponge." 
 
 " Indeed, sir ! " replied Mr. Bragg, with the slightest possible 
 touch of his cap, which he still kept on. " Mr. Sponge, sir ! — 
 indeed, sir — Mr. Sponge, sir — pray who may he be, sir ? " 
 
 " Oh — why — hay — hum — haw — he's Mr. Sponge, you know — 
 been hunting with Lord Scamperdale, you know — great sportsman, 
 in fact — great authority, you know." 
 
 " Indeed — great authority is he — indeed — oh — yes — thinks so 
 p'raps — sc-e-e-use me, sir, but des-say, sir, I've forgot more, sir, 
 than Mr. Sponge ever knew, sir." 
 
 " Well, but you musn't tell him so," observed Mr. Puffington, 
 fearful that Bragg might spoil sport. 
 
 " Oh, tell him — wo," sneered Bragg, with a jerk of the head ; 
 " tell him — no ; I'm not exactly such a donkey as that ; on the 
 contrary, I'll make things pleasant, sir — sugar his milk for him, 
 sir, in short, sir." 
 
 " Sugar his milk ! " exclaimed Mr. Puffington, who was only 
 a matter-of-fact man ; " sugar his milk ! I dare say ho takes 
 tea." 
 
 " Well, then, sugar his tea," replied Bragg, with a smile ; 
 adding, " Can 'commodate myself, sir, to circumstances, sir," at 
 tl>e same time taking off his cap and setting a chair for his 
 master. 
 
 " Thank you, but I'm not going to stay," replied Mr. 
 Puffington ; " I only came up to let you know who you had to 
 expect, so that you might prepare, you know — have all on the 
 square, you know — best horses — best hounds — best appearance in 
 general, you know." 
 
 " That I'll attend to," replied Mr. Bragg, with a toss of the 
 head, — " that /'// attend to," repeated he, with an emphasis on 
 the ril, as much as to say, " don't you meddle with what doesn't 
 concern you." 
 
 Mr. Puffington would fain have rebuked him for his imper- 
 tinence, as indeed he often would fain have rebuked him ; but Mr. 
 Bragg had so overpowered him with science, and impressed him 
 with the necessity of keeping him — albeit Mr. Puffington was 
 sensible that he killed very few foxes — that, having put up with
 
 236 
 
 MR. HFONGE\^ SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 him so long, he thought it would never do to risk a quarrel, which 
 might lose him the chance of getting rid of him and hounds 
 altogether ; therefore, Mr. Puffington, instead of saying, " You 
 conceited humbug, get out of this," or indulging in any obser- 
 vations that might lead to controversy, said,' with a satisfied, 
 confidential nod of the head — 
 
 "I'm sure you will— I'm sure you will," and took his departure, 
 leaving Mr. Bragg to remount the saddle-stand, and take the 
 remainder of his sittimr. 
 
 AN EARLY BREAKFAST.
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 MR. PUFFIXGTON's DOMESTIC ARRANGEMENTS. 
 
 Perhaps it was fortunate that Mr. Bragg did take the keimcl 
 management upon himself, or there is no saying but what with 
 that and the house department, coupled with the usual fussyncss 
 of a bachelor, the Sponge visit might have proved too much for 
 our master. The notice of the intended visit was short ; and there 
 were invitations to send out, and answers to get, bed-rooms to pre- 
 pare, and culinary arrangements to make — arrangements that 
 people in town, with all their tradespeople at their elbows, can 
 have no idea of the diihcnlty of effecting in the country. Mr. 
 Pufltington was fully employed. 
 
 In addition to the parties mentioned as asked in his note to Lord 
 Scamperdale, viz., "Washball, Charley Slapp, and Lumpleg, were 
 Parson Blossomnose, and Mr. Fossick of the Flat Hat Hunt, who 
 declined — Mr. Crane, of Crane Hall, and Captain Guano, late of 
 that noble corps the Spotted Horse Marines, and others who 
 accepted. Mr. Spraggon was a sort of volunteer, at all events an 
 undesii'ed guest, unless his lordship accompanied him. It so 
 happened that the least wanted guest was the first to arrive on the 
 all important day. 
 
 Lord Scamperdale, knowing our friend Jack Avas not over 
 affluent, had no idea of spoiling him by too much luxury, and as 
 the railway would serve a certain distance in the line of Hanby 
 House, he despatched Jack to the Over-shoes-over-boots station 
 with the dog-cart, and told him he would be sure to find a 'bus, or 
 to get some sort of conveyance at the Squandercash station to 
 take him up to Puffington's ; at all events, his lordship added to 
 himself, " If he doesn't, it'll do him no harm to walk, and he can 
 easily get a boy to carry his bag." 
 
 The latter was the case ; for though the station-master assured 
 Jack, on his arrival at Squandercash, that there was a 'bus, or a 
 mail gig, or a something to every other train, there was nothing 
 in connection with the one that brought him, nor would he under- 
 take to leave his carpet bag at Hanby House before breakfast- 
 time the next morning. 
 
 Jack was highly enraged, and proceeded to squint his eye inside 
 out, and abuse all railways, and chairmen, and directors, and 
 secretaries, and clerks, and porters, vowing that railways were the 
 greatest nuisances under the sun — that they were aperi'ect impedi- 
 ment instead of a facility to travelling — and declared that formerly
 
 238 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 a gentleman had nothing to do but order liis four horses, and have 
 them turned out at every stage as he came up, instead of being 
 stopped in the ridicJdous manner he then was ; and he sti'utteJ 
 and stamped about the station as if he would put a stop to the 
 whole line. 
 
 His vehemence and big talk operated favourably on the cockney 
 station-master, who, thinking he must be a duke, or some great, 
 man, began to consider how to get him forwarded. It being only 
 a thinly-populated district — though there was a station equal to 
 any mercantile emergency, indeed to the requirements of the 
 whole county — he ran the resources of the immediate neighbour- 
 hood through his mind, and at length was obliged to admit — 
 humbly and respectfully — that he really was afraid Martha 
 Muggins's donkey was the only available article. 
 
 Jack fumed and bounced at the very mention of such a thing, 
 vowing that it was a downright insult to propose it ; and he was 
 so bumptious that the station-master, who had nothing to gain by 
 the transaction, sought the privacy of the electric telegraph office, 
 and left him to vent the balance of his wrath upon the porters. 
 
 Of course they could do nothing more than the king of their 
 little colony had^ suggested ; and finding there was no help for it, 
 Mr. Spraggon at last submitted to the humiliation, and set off to- 
 follow young Muggins with his bag on the donkey, in his best top- 
 boots, worn under his trousers — an unpleasant operation to any 
 one, but especially to a man like Jack, who preferred wearing his 
 tops out against the flaps' of his friends' saddles, rather than his 
 soles by walking upon them. However, necessity said yes ; and 
 cocking his flat hat jauntily on his head, ho stuck a cheroot in his 
 mouth, and went smoking and swaggering on, looking — or rather 
 squinting — bumptiously at every body he met, as much as to 
 say, " Don't suppose I'm walking from necessity ! I've plenty of 
 
 tin." . . , . . , , 
 
 The third cheroot brought Jack and his suite within sight 
 
 of Hanby House. 
 
 Mr. PufRngton had about got through all the fuss of hi& 
 preparations, arranged the billets of the guests, and of those 
 scarcely less important personages — their servants, aflotted the 
 stables, and rehearsed the wines, when a chance glance through 
 the gaily-furnished drawing-room window discovered Jack trudging 
 up the trimly-kept avenue. 
 
 never think of wiping his filthy 
 
 So saying, Putfington rushed to the entrance, and crowning 
 himself with a white wide-awake, advanced cheerily to do so. 
 
 Jack, who was more used to "cold shoulder" than cordial
 
 3IR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 239 
 
 receptions, squinted and stared with surprise at tbe unwonted 
 warmth, so difierent to their last interview, when Jack was fresh 
 out of his clay-hole in the Brick Fields ; but not beinc: easily put 
 out of his way, he just took Puif as Puff took him. They talked 
 of Scamperdalc, and tliey talked of Frostyface, and the number of 
 foxes he had killed, the price of corn, and the difference its price 
 made in the keep of hounds and horses. Altogether they were 
 very " thick." 
 
 " And how's our friend Sponge ? " asked Puffington, as the 
 conversation at length began to flag. 
 
 "Oh, he's nicely," replied Jack; adding, "hasn't he come 
 yet?" 
 
 "Not that I've seen," answered Puffington ; adding, " I thought, 
 perhaps, you might come together." 
 
 " No," grunted Jack ; " he comes from Jawlcyford's, you know ; 
 I'm from Woodmansterne." 
 
 " We'll go and see if he's come," observed Puffington, open- 
 ing a door in the garden-wall, into which he had manoeuvi'ed Jack,, 
 communicating with the court-yard of the stable, 
 
 " Here are his horses," observed Puffington, as Mr. Leather 
 rode through the great gat:es on the opposite side, with the renowned 
 hunters in full marching order. 
 
 "Monstrous fine animals they arc," said Jack, squinting 
 intently at thera. 
 
 " They are that," replied Puffington. 
 
 " Mr. Sponge seems a very pleasant, gentlemanly man," observed 
 Mr. Puffington. 
 
 " Oh, he is," replied Jack. 
 
 " Can you tell me — can you inform me — that's to say, can yoii 
 give me any idea," hesitated Puffington, " what is the usual 
 practice — the usual course — the usual understanding as to the- 
 treatment of those sort of gentlemen ? " 
 
 " Oh, the best of everything's good enough for them," replied 
 Jack, adding, " just as it is with me." 
 
 " Ah, I don't mean in the way of eating and drinking, but in 
 the way of encouragement — in the way of a present, you know ? " 
 adding — " What did my lord do ? " seeing Jack was slow at 
 comprehension. 
 
 " Oh, my lord bad-worded him well," replied Jack ; adding 
 " he didn't get much encouragement from him." 
 
 " Ah, that's the worst of my lord," observed Puffington ; " he's- 
 rather coarse — rather too indifferent to public opinion. In a case 
 of this sort, you know, that doesn't happen every day, or, perhaps, 
 more than once in a man's life, it's just as well to be favourably 
 spoken of as not, you know ; " adding, as he looked intently at 
 Jack — " Do you understand me ? "
 
 •240 ME. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 Jack, who was tolerably quick at a chance, now began to see 
 how things were, and to fathom Mr. Puffington's mistake. His 
 ready imagination immediately saw there might be something made 
 of it, so he prepared to keep up the delusion. 
 
 " Wh-o-o-i/ ! " said he, straddling out his legs, clasping his hands 
 together, and squinting steadily through his spectacles, to try and 
 see, by Puffington's countenance, how much he would stand. 
 '■'■ W-h-o-o-y ! ''"' repeated he, '"I shouldn't think — though, mind, 
 it's mere conjectur' on my part — that you couldn't otter him less 
 than — twenty or five-and-twenty punds ; or, say, from that to 
 thirty," continued Jack, seeing that Puflf 's countenance remained 
 complacent under the rise. 
 
 " And that you think would be sufficient ? " asked PuflF ; add- 
 ing — " If one does a thing at all, you know, it's as well to do it 
 handsomely." 
 
 " True," replied Jack, sticking out his great thick lips, " true. 
 I'm a great advocate for doing things handsomely. Many a row I 
 liave with my lord for thanking fellows, and saying he'll remember 
 them, instead of giving them sixpence or a shilling ; but really I 
 should say, if you were to give him forty or fifty pund — say a fifty- 
 pund note, he'd be " 
 
 The rest of the sentence was lost by the appearance of Mr. 
 Sponge, cantering up the avenue on the conspicuous piebald. Mr. 
 Puffington and Mr. Spraggon greeted him as he alighted at the 
 door. 
 
 Sponge was quickly followed by Tom Washball ; then came 
 Charley Slapp and Lumpleg, and Captain Guano came in a gig. 
 Mutual bows and bobs and shakes of the hand being exchanged, 
 amid offers of " anything before dinner " from the host, the guests 
 were at length shown to their respective apartments, from which 
 in due time they emerged, looking like so many bridegrooms. 
 
 First came the worthy master of the hounds himself, in his 
 scarlet dress-coat, lined with white satin ; Tom Washball, and 
 Charley Slapp also sported Puff's uniform ; while Captain Guano, 
 who was proud of his leg, sported the uniform of the Muffington 
 Hunt — a pea-green coat lined with yellow, and a yellow collar, 
 white shorts with gold garters, and black silk stockings. 
 
 Spraggon had been obliged to put up with Lord Scamperdale's 
 second best coat, his lordship having taken the best one himself ; 
 but it was passable enough by candle light, and the seediness of the 
 blue cloth was relieved by a velvet collar and a new set of the Flat 
 Hat Hunt buttons. Mr. Sponge wore a plain scarlet with a crim- 
 son velvet collar, and a bright fox on the frosted ground of a gilt 
 button, with tights as before ; and when Mr. Crane arrived he 
 was found to be attired in a dress composed partly of Mr. Puffing- 
 ton's and partly of the Muggcridge Hunt uniform — the red coat
 
 ME. SPONGE'S SFOETING TOUR. 241 
 
 of the former surmountirxg the Tvhite shorts and black stockings 
 of the other. Altogether, however, they were uncommonly smart, 
 and it is to be hoped that they appreciated each other. 
 
 The dinner was sumptuous. Puff, of course, was in the chair ; 
 and Captain Guano coming last into the room, and being very fond 
 of office, was vice. When men run to the "noble science" of 
 gastronomy, they generally outstrip the ladies in tlie art of dinner- 
 giving, for they admit of no makeweight, or merely ornamental 
 dishes, but concentrate the cook's energies on sterling and ap- 
 proved dishes. Everything men set on is meant to be eaten. Above 
 all, men are not too tine to have the plate-warmer in the room, the 
 deficiency of hot plates proving fatal to many a fine feast. It was 
 evident that Puif prided himseK on his table. His linen was the 
 finest and whitest, his glass the most elegant and transparent, his 
 plate the brightest, and his wines the most costly and recherche . 
 Like many people, however, who are not much in the habit of 
 dinner-giving, he was anxious and fussy, too intent upon making 
 people comfortable to allow of their being so, and too anxious to 
 get victuals and drink down their throats to allow of their enjoying 
 either. 
 
 Ee not only produced a tremendous assortment of wines — Hock, 
 Sauterne, Champagne, Earsack, Burgundy, but descended into 
 endless varieties of sherries and Madeiras. These he pressed upon 
 people, always insisting that the last sample was the best. 
 
 In these hospitable exertions Puffington was ably assisted by 
 Captain Guano, who, being fond of wine, came in for a good 
 quantity ; first of all by asking everyone to take wine with him, 
 and then in return everyone asking him to do the same with them. 
 The present absurd non-asking system was not then in vogue. 
 The great captain, noisy and talkative at all times, began to be 
 boisterous almost before the cloth was drawn. 
 
 Puffington was equally promiscuous with his after-dinner wines. 
 He had all sorts of clarets, and " curious old ports." The party 
 did not seem to have any objection to spoil their digestions for 
 the nest day, and took whatever he produced with great alacrity. 
 Lengthened were the candle examinations, solemn the sips, and 
 sounding the smacks that preceded the delivery of their Campbell- 
 like judgments. 
 
 The conversation, which at first was altogether upon wine, 
 gradually diverged upon sporting, and they presently brewed up a 
 very considerable cry. Foremost among the noisy ones was Captain 
 •Guano. He seemed inclined to take the shine out of everybody. 
 
 " Oh ! if they could but find a good fox that would give them a 
 run often miles — say, ten miles — just ten miles would satisfy him 
 — say, from Barnesley V/old to Chingforde Wood, or from Carleburg* 
 Clump to Wetherden Head. He was going to ride his famous
 
 242 
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPOUTING TOUR. 
 
 horse Jack-a-Dandy — the finest horse that ever was foaled ! No 
 day too long for him — no pace too great for him — no fence too 
 stitf for him — no brook too broad for him." 
 
 Tom Washball, too, talked as if wearing a red coat was not the 
 only purpose for which he hunted ; and altogether they seemed tO' 
 be an amazing, sporting, hard-riding set. 
 
 When at length they rose to go to bed, it struck each man as he 
 followed his neighbour upstairs that the one before him walked 
 very crookedly. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 A DAY WITH rUFFINGTO^;'S HOUNDS. 
 
 ,^r-~'^'^' '^ 
 
 oJX- 
 
 ^,f 
 
 A GOOD RUN. 
 
 Day dawned cheerfully. If there was rather more sun than the 
 strict rules of Beckford prescribe, still sunshine is not a thing tO' 
 quarrel with under any circumstances — certainly not for a gentle- 
 man to quarrel with who wants his place seen to advantage on the 
 occasion of a meet of hounds. Everything at Hanby House was 
 in apple-pie order. All the stray leaves that the capricious wintry 
 winds still kept raising from unknown quarters, and whisking;
 
 3IR. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUR. 243 
 
 about the trim lawns, wore hunted and caught, while a heavy roller 
 passed over the Kensington gravel, pressing out the hoof and 
 wheelmarks of the previous day. The servants were up betimes, 
 preparing the house for those that were in it, and a dejeuner a la 
 fourcliette for chance customers, from without. 
 
 They were equally busy at the stable. Although Mr. Bragg did 
 profess such indifference for Mr. Sponge's opinion, he nevertiieless 
 thought it might perliaps be as well to be condescending to the 
 stranger. Accordingly, he ordered his whips to be on the alert, to 
 tie their ties and put on their boots as they ought to be, and to 
 hoist their caps becomingly on the appearance of our friend. 
 Bragg, like a good many huntsmen, had a sort of tariff of polite- 
 ness, that he indicated by the manner iu which he saluted the 
 field. To a lord, he made a sweep of his cap like the dome of St. 
 Paul's ; a baronet came in for about half as much ; a knight, to a , 
 quarter. Bragg had also a sort of City or monetary tariff of 
 politeness— a tariff that Avas oftener called in requisition than the 
 " Debrett " one, in Mr. Puffington's country. To a good " tip," 
 he vouchsafed as much cap as he gave to a lord ; to a middling 
 " tip " he gave a sort of move that might either pass for a touch 
 of the cap or a more comfortable adjustment of it to his head ; a 
 very small " tip " had a forefinger to the peak ; while he who gave 
 nothing at all got a good stare or a Good morning ! or something 
 of that sort. A man watching the arrival of the field could see 
 who gave the fives, who the fours, who the threes, who the twos, 
 who the ones, and who were the great O's. 
 
 But to our day W'ith Mr. Puffington's hounds. 
 
 Our over-night friends were not quite so brisk in the morning 
 as the servants and parties outside. Puffington's "mixture " told 
 upon a good many of them. Washball had a headache, so had 
 Lumpleg ; Crane was seedy ; and Captain Guauo, sea-green. 
 Soda-water was in great request. 
 
 There was a splendid breakfast, the table and sideboard looking 
 as if Fortnum and Mason or Morel had opened a branch 
 establishment at Hanby House. Though the staying guests could 
 not do much for the good things set out, they were not wasted, for 
 the place was fairly taken by storm shortly before the advertised 
 hour of meeting ; and what at one time looked like a most 
 extravagant supply, at another seemed likely to prove a deficiency. 
 Each man helped himself to whatever he fancied, without waiting 
 for the ceremony of an invitation, in the usual style of fox-hunting 
 hospitality. 
 
 A few minutes before eleven, a "/7«i%Eantaway," accompanied 
 by a slight crack of a whip, drew the seedy and satisfied parties to 
 the auriol window, to see Mr. Bragg pass along with his hounds. 
 They were just gliding noiselessly over the green sward, Mr. Bragg 
 
 £ 2
 
 244 ME. SPONGE'S SPOLTING TOUR. 
 
 rising in his stirrups, as spruce as a game-cock, with his thorough- 
 bred bay gambolling and pawing with deUght at the frolic of the 
 hounds, some chistering around him, others shooting forward a 
 little, as if to show how obediently they would return at his whistle. 
 Mr. Bragg was known as the whistling huntsman, and was a great 
 man for telegraphing and signalising with his arms, boasting that 
 he could make hounds so handy that they could do everything, 
 except pay the turnpike-gates. At his appearance the men all 
 began to shuffle to the passage and entrance-hall, to look for their 
 bats and whips ; and presently there was a great outpouring of red 
 coats upon the lawn, all straddling and waddhng of course. Then 
 Mr. Bragg, seeing an audience, with a slight whistle and waive of 
 his right arm, wheeled his forces round, and trotted gaily towards 
 where our guests had grouped themselves, within the light iron 
 railing that separated the smooth slope from the field. As he 
 reined in his horse, he gave his cap an aerial sweep, taking off 
 perpendicularly, and finishing at his horse's ears — an example that 
 was immediately followed by the whips, and also by Mr. Bragg's 
 second horseman, Tom Stot. 
 
 " Good morning, Mister Bragg ! — Good morning, Mister Bragg ! 
 — Good morning, Mister Bragg ! " burst from the assembled specta- 
 tors : for Mr. Bragg was one of those people that one occasionally 
 meets whom everybody " Misters." Mister Bragg, rising in his stir- 
 rups with a gracious smile, passed a very polite bow along the line. 
 " Here's a fine morning, Mr. Bragg," observed Tom Washball, 
 who thought it knowing to talk to servants. 
 
 "Yas, sir," replied Bragg, "y«s," with a slight inclination to 
 cap ; " r-a-ij-W\e,r more san, p'raps, than desirable," continued he, 
 raising his face towards the heavens ; " but still by no means a 
 bad day, sir^no, sir — by no means a bad day, sir." 
 
 " Hounds looking well," observed Charley Slapp between the 
 whiffs of a cigar. 
 
 " Yas, sir," said Bragg — " yas," looking around them with a 
 self-satisfied smile; adding, "so they ought, sir— so they ought; if 
 / can't bring a pack out as they should be, don't know who can." 
 " Why, here's our old Rummager, I declare ! " exclaimed 
 8praggon, who, having vaulted the iron hurdles, w^as now among 
 the pack. •' Why, here's our old Rummager, I declare ! " repeated 
 he, laying his whip on the head of a solemn-looking black and 
 white hound, somewhat down in the toes, and looking as if he was 
 about done. 
 
 " Sc-e-e-use me, sir," replied Bragg, leaning over his horse's 
 shoulder, and whispering into Jack's ear ; " sc-e-e-use me, sir, but 
 drop that, sir, if you please, sir." 
 
 " Drop what ? " asked Jack, squinting through his great tortoise- 
 shell-rimmed spectacles up into Bragg's face.
 
 ME. SPONGE'S SPOETING TOUR. 245 
 
 " 'Bout knowin.c: of tliafc 'onnd, sir," whispered Bragg ; " the 
 fact is, sir, — we call him Mernjmcni, sir ; master don't know I got 
 him from you, sir." 
 
 " 0-0-0,'''' replied Jaclc, squinting, if possible, more frightfully 
 than before. 
 
 "Ah, that's the hound I offered to Scamperdale," observed 
 Puffington, seeing the movement, and coming up to where Jack 
 stood ; " that's the hound I ofiered to Scamperdale," repeated he, 
 taking the old dog's head between his hands. " There's no better 
 hound in the world than this," continued he, patting and smooth- 
 ing him ; " and no better hrecl hound, either," added he, rubbing 
 the dog's sides with his whip. 
 
 " How is he bred ?" asked Jack, who knew the hound's pedigree 
 better than he did his own. 
 
 " Why, I got him from Reynard, — no, I mean from Downey- 
 bird — the Duke, you know ; but he was bred by Fitzwilliam — by 
 his Singwell out of Darling, Singwell was by the Rutland Rally- 
 wood out of Tavistock Rhapsody ; but to make a long story short, 
 he's lineally descended from the Beaufort Justice." 
 
 "Indeed!" exclaimed Jack, hardly able to contain himself; 
 " that's undeniable blood." 
 
 " Well, I'm glad to hear you say so ; " replied Puffington. " I'm 
 glad to hear you say so, for you understand these things — no man 
 better ; and I confess I've a warm side to that Beaufort Justice 
 blood." 
 
 "Don't wonder at it," replied Jack, laughing his waistcoat 
 strings otF. 
 
 "The great Mr. Warde," continued Mr. Puffington, "who was 
 justly partial to his own sort, had never any objection to breeding 
 from the Beaufort Justice." 
 
 " No, nor nobody else that knew Avhat he was about," replied 
 Jack, turning away to conceal his laughter. 
 
 " We should be moving, I think, sir," observed Bragg, anxious 
 to put an end to the conversation ; " we should be moving, I think, 
 sir," repeated he, with a rap of his forefiugcr against his cap peak. 
 *' It's past eleven," added he, looking at his gold watch, and 
 shutting it against his cheek. 
 
 " What do you draw first ? " asked Jack. 
 
 " Draw — draw — draw," replied. Puffington. " Oh, we'll draw 
 Rabbitborough Gorse — that's a new cover I've enclosed on my 
 pro-o-rperty." 
 
 " Sc-e-e-use me, sir," replied Bragg, with a smile, and another 
 rap of the cap : " sc-e-e-use me, sir, but I'm going to Hollyburn 
 Hanger first." 
 
 " Ah, well, Hollyburn Hanger," replied Puffington, complacently ; 
 "either will do very well."
 
 246 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 If Puff had proposed HoUyburn Ilangcr, Cragg would have said 
 Rabbitborough Gorse. 
 
 The move of the hounds caused a rush of gentlemen to their 
 horses, and there was the usual scrambliugs up, and fidgetings, and 
 funkings, and ?fAo-o-hayings and drawing of girths, and taking up 
 of curbs, and lengthening and shortening of stirrups. 
 
 Captain Guano couldn't get his stirinips to his liking anyhow. 
 " 'Ord hang these leathers," roared he, clutching up a stirrup-iron ; 
 "who the devil would ever have sent one out a huntin' with a pair 
 of new stirrup-leathers ? " 
 
 " Hang you and the stirrup-leathers," growled the groom, as his 
 master rode away ; " you're always wantin' sumfin to find fault 
 with. I'm blowed if it arn't a disgrace to an oss to carry such a 
 man," added he, eyeing the chestnut fidgeting and wincing as the 
 captain worked away at the stirrups. 
 
 Mr, Bragg trotted briskly on with the hounds, preceded by Joe 
 Banks the first whip, and having Jack Swipes the second, and 
 Tom Stot, riding together behind him, to keep off" the crowd. 
 
 Thus the cavalcade swept down the avenue, crossed the Swilling- 
 ford turnpike, and took through a well-kept field road, which 
 speedily brought them to the cover — rough, broomy, brushwood- 
 covered banks, of about three acres in extent, lying on either side 
 of the little Hollyburn Brook, one of the tiny streams that in 
 angry times helped to swell the Swill into a river. 
 
 " Dim all these foot people ! " exclaimed Mr. Bragg, in well- 
 feigned disgust, as he came in view, and found all the Swillingford 
 snobs, all the tinkers, and tailors, and cobblers, and poachers, and 
 sheep-stealers, all the scowling, rotten-fustiancd, baggy-pocketed 
 scamps of the country ranged round the cover, some with dogs, 
 some with guns, some with snares, and all Avith sticks or staffs. 
 
 " Well, I'm dimmed if ever I seed sich a " The rest of the 
 
 speech being lost amidst the exclamations of — " A ! the hunds ! 
 the hunds ! iioop ! tally-o the hunds ! " and a general rush of the 
 ruffians to meet them. 
 
 Captain Guano, who had now come up, joined in the denuncia- 
 tion, inu'ardly congratulating himself on the probability that the 
 first cover, at least, would be drawn blank. 
 
 Tom AVashball, Avho was riding a very troublesome tail-foremost 
 grey, also censured the proceeding. 
 
 And Mr. Puffington, still an " am«azin' instance of a pop'lar 
 man," exclaimed, as he rode among them, " Ah ! my good fellows, 
 I'd rather you'd come up and had some ale than disturbed the 
 cover ; " a hint that the wily ones immediately took, rushing up to 
 the house, and availing themselves of the absence of the butler, who 
 had followed the hounds, to take a couple of dozen of his best 
 fiddle-handled forks while the footman was drawing them the ale.
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPOETING TOUR. ' 247 
 
 The whips being duly signalled by Bragg to their points — 
 Brick to the north corner, Swipes to the south — and the field 
 being at length drawn up to his liking, Mr. Bragg looked at Mr. 
 PuflTington for his signal (the only piece of interference he allowed 
 him), at a nod Mr. Bragg gave a waive of his cap, and the pack 
 dashed into cover with a cry — 
 
 " Yo-o-klcs — ivijid Mm ! Yo-o-icJcs — pash him up I " cheered 
 Bragg, standing erect in his stirrups, eyeing the hounds sijreading 
 and sniffing about, now this way, now that — now pushing through 
 a thicket, now threading and smelling along a meuse. " Yo-o-icks 
 — ivind Mm ! Yo-o-iclcs — pash him up ! " repeated he, cracking 
 his whip, and moving slowly on. He then varied the entertain- 
 ment by whistling, in a sharp, shrill key, something like the chirp 
 of a sparrow-hawk. 
 
 Thus the hounds rummaged and scrimmaged for some minutes. 
 
 " No fox here," observed Captain Guano, bringing his horse 
 alongside of Mr. Bragg's. 
 
 " Not so sure o' /Aa/," replied Mr. Bragg, with a sneer, for he 
 had a great contempt for the captain. " Not so sure o' that," 
 replied he, eyeing Thunderer and Galloper feathering up the 
 brook. 
 
 " Hang these stirrups ! " exclaimed the captain, again attempt- 
 ing to adjust them ; adding, " I declare I have no seat whatever 
 in this saddle." 
 
 "Nor in any other," muttered Bragg. " Yo-icks, Galloper! 
 Yo-icks, Thunderer ! Ge-e-ntli/, Warrior ! " continued he, crack- 
 ing his whip, as Warrioi* pounced at a bunny. 
 
 The hounds were evidently on a scent, hardly strong enough to 
 own, but sufficiently indicated by their feathering, and the rush of 
 their comrades to the spot. 
 
 " A fox for a thousand ! " exclaimed Mr. Bragg, eyeing them, 
 and looking at his watch. 
 
 " Oh, d — mn me ! I've got one stiiTup longer than another 
 now ! " roared Captain Guano, trying the fresh adjustment. 
 " I've got one stirrup longer than another I " added he, in a 
 teiTible pucker. 
 
 A low snatch of a wiiimper now proceeded from Galloper, and 
 Bragg cheered him to the echo. In another second a great bang- 
 ing brown fox burst from among the broom, and dashed down 
 the little dean. What noises, what exclamations rent the air ! 
 " Talliho ! talliho ! talliho ! " screamed a host of voices, in every 
 variety of intonation, from the half-frantic yell of a party seeing 
 him, down to the shout of a mere partaker of the epidemic. 
 Shouting is very contagious. The horsemen gathered up their 
 reins, pressed down their hats, and threw away their cigar-ends. 
 
 "'Ord hang it !" roared Captain Guano, still fumblmg at the
 
 248 MR. SPONGE'S SFOBTING TOUR. 
 
 leathers, "I shall never be able to ride Tvith stirrups iu this 
 state." 
 
 " Hang your stirrups ! " exclaimed Charley Slapp, shooting past 
 him, adding, " It was your saddle last time." 
 
 Bragg's queer tootle of his horn, for he was full of strange 
 blows, now sounded at the low end of the cover ; and, having a 
 pet line of gaps and other conveniences that he knew how to turn 
 to on the minute, he soon shot so far ahead as to give him the 
 appearance (to the slow 'uns) of having flown. Brick and Swipes 
 quickly had all the hounds after him, and Stot, dropping his 
 elbows, made for the road, to ride the second horse gently on the 
 line. The field, as usual, divided into two parts, the soft riders- 
 and the hard ones — the soft riders going by the fields, the hard 
 riders by the road. Messrs. Spraggon, Sponge, Slapp, Quilter, 
 Rasper, Crasher, Smasher, and some half-dozen more, bustled after 
 Bragg ; while the worthy master Mr. Puffington, Lumpleg, 
 Washball, Crane, Guano, Shirker, and very many others, came 
 pounding along the lane. There was a good scent, and the 
 hounds shot across the Fleecyhaughwater Meadows, over the hill, 
 to the village of Berrington Boothings, where, the fox having 
 been chased by a cur, the hounds were brought to a check by some 
 very bad scenting-ground, on the common, a little to the left of 
 the village, at the end of a quarter of an hour or so. The road 
 having been handy, the hard riders were there almost as soon as 
 the soft ones ; and there being no impediments on the common, 
 they all pushed boldly on among the now stooping hounds. 
 
 " Rold hard, gentlemen ! " exclaimed Mr. Bragg, rising in his 
 stirrups, and telegraphing with his right arm. " Hold hard ! — 
 praj/ do I " added he, with little better success. " Dim, it, gen'le- 
 men, hold hard ! " added he, as they still pressed upon the pack. 
 " Have a little regard for a huntsman's raputation," continued he. 
 " Remember that it rises and falls with the sport he shows " — 
 exhortations that seemed to be pretty well lost upon the field, who 
 began comparing notes as to their respective achievements, 
 enlarging the leaps and magnifying the distance into double what 
 they had been. Puffington and some of the fat ones sat gasping 
 and mopping their brows. 
 
 Seeing there was not much chance of the hounds hitting off 
 the scent by themselves, Mr, Bragg began telegraphing with his 
 arm to the whippers-in, much in the manner of the captain of a 
 Thames steamer to the lad at the engine, and forthwith they drove 
 the pack on for our swell huntsman to make his cast. As good 
 luck would have it, Bragg crossed the line of the fox before he 
 had got half through his circle, and away the hounds dashed, at a 
 pace and with a cry that looked very like kilUng. Mr. Bragg was 
 in ecstasies, and rode in a manner very contrary to his wont. All
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPOETING TOUR. 24I> 
 
 again was life, energy, and action ; and even some -wlio hoped 
 tliere was an end of the thing, and that they might go home and 
 say, as usual, " that they had had a very good run, but not 
 killed," were induced to proceed. 
 
 Away they all went as before. 
 
 At the end of eighteen minutes more the hounds ran into their 
 fox in the little green valley below Mountnessing Wood, and Mr. 
 Bragg had him stretched on the green with the pack baying about 
 him, and the horses of the field-riders getting led about by the 
 country people, while the riders stood glorying in the splendour of 
 the thing. All had a direct interest in making it out as good a& 
 possible, and Mr. Bragg was quite ready to appropriate as much 
 praise as ever they liked to give. 
 
 " 'Ord dim him," said he, turning up the fox's grim head with 
 his foot, " but Mr. Bragg's an awkward customer for gen'lemen of 
 your description." 
 
 "You hunted him tccll!''^ exclaimed Charley Slapp, who was 
 trumpeter general of the establishment. 
 
 "Oh, sir," replied Bragg, with a smirk and a condescending 
 bow, " if Kichard Bragg can't kill foxes, I don't know who can." 
 
 Just then " Puffington and Co." hove in sight up the valley,, 
 their faces beaming with delight as the tableau before them told 
 the tale. They hastened to the spot. 
 
 " How many brace is that ? " asked Puffington, with the most 
 matter-of-course air, as he trotted up, and reined in his horse out- 
 side the circle. 
 
 " Scvmleen trace, your grace, I mean to say my lord, that's to 
 say sur^'' replied Bragg, with a strong emphasis on the sur., as if 
 to say, " I'm not used to you snobs of Commoners." 
 
 "Seventeen brace ! " sneered Jack Spraggon to Sponge; adding, 
 in a whisper, " More like seven foxes." 
 
 "And how many run to ground ? " asked Puffington, alighting. 
 
 " Four brace," replied Bragg, stooping to cut ofl' the brush. 
 
 We were wrong in saying that Bragg only allowed Puff the 
 privilege of nodding his head to say when he might throw oil". 
 He let him lead the "lie gallop " in the kill department. 
 
 Mr. Puffington then presented Mr. Sponge with the brush, and 
 the usual solemnities being observed, the sherry llasks were pro- 
 duced and drained, the biscuits munched, and, amidst the smoke 
 of cigars, the ring broke up in gi'eat good will.
 
 250 
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUB 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 AVRITIXG A RUN. 
 
 A RUNNINO WRITKR. 
 
 HE first fumes 
 of excitement 
 over, after a 
 run with a 
 Idll, the field 
 begin to take 
 things more 
 coolly and 
 veraciously, 
 and ere long 
 some of them 
 begin to pick 
 holes in the 
 affair. The 
 men of the 
 hunt run it 
 up, while those of the next hunt run it down. Added to this there 
 arc generally some cavilling, captious fellows in every field, who 
 extol a run to the master's face, and abuse it behind his back. So 
 it was on the present occasion. Tlie men of the hunt — Charley 
 Slapp, Lumpleg, (}uano, Crane, Washball, and others — lauded and 
 magnified it into something magnificent ; while Fossick, Fyle, 
 Wake, Blossomnose, and others of the "flat-hat hunt," pronounced 
 it a niceish thing — a pretty burst ; and Mr. Vospcr, who had 
 hunted for five-and-twenty seasons without ever subscribing one 
 farthing to hounds, always declaring that each season was " his 
 last," or that he was going to confine himself entirely to some 
 other pack, said it was nothing to make a row about, that he had 
 seen fifty better things with the Tinglebury harriers, and never a 
 word said. 
 
 " Well," said Sponge to Spraggon, between the whiffs of a cigar, 
 as they rode together ; " it wasn't so bad, was it ? " 
 
 " Bad ! — no," squinted Jack, " devilish good^for Puff, at 
 least," adding, '" I question he's had a better this season." 
 
 " Well, we are in luck," observed Tom Washball, riding up and 
 joining tliem ; " we are in luck to have a satisfactory thing with 
 you great connoisseurs out." 
 
 " A pretty thing enough," replied Jack, " pretty thing 
 cnouu'h."
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 251 
 
 "Oh, I don't mean to say it's equal to many we've had this 
 season," reph'cd Washball ; " nothing hke the Bonghton Hill day, 
 nor yet the Hembuiy Forest one ; but still, considering the meet 
 and the state of the country " 
 
 " Hout ! the country's good enough," growled Jack, who hated 
 "Washball ; adding, " A good fox makes any country good ; " witli 
 which observation he sidled up to Sponge, leaving Washball in 
 the middle of the road. 
 
 " That reminds me," said Jack, solto voce to Sponge, " that the 
 crittur wants his run puffed, and he thinks you can do it." 
 
 " Me ! " exclaimed Sponge, " what's put that in his head ? " 
 
 " Why, you see," exclaimed Jack, " the first time you came out 
 with our hounds at Dundleton Tower, you'U remember — or rather, 
 the first time we saw you, when your horse ran away with you — 
 somebody, Fyle, I think it was, said you were a literary cove ; and 
 Puff, catchin' at the idea, has never been able to get rid of it 
 since : and the fact is, he'd like to be flattered — he'd be un- 
 commonly pleased if you were to ' soft saudor ' him handsomely." 
 
 " Me ! " exclaimed Sponge ; " bless your heart, man, I can't 
 wi'ite anything — nothing fit to print, at least." 
 
 " Hout, fiddle ! " retorted Spraggon, " you can write as well as 
 any other man ; see what lots of fellows write, and nobody ever 
 finds fault." 
 
 " But the spellin' bothers one," replied Sponge, with a shake 
 of his elbow and body, as if the idea was quite out of the 
 question. 
 
 " Hang the spellin'," muttered Jack, " one can always borrow a 
 dictionary ; or let the man of the paper — the editor, as they call 
 him — smooth out the spellin'. You say at the end of your letter, 
 that your hands are cold, or your hand aches with holdin' a pullin' 
 horse, and you'll thank him to correct any inadvertencies — you 
 needn't call them errors, you know." 
 
 " But where's the use of it ? " exclaimed Sponge ; "it '11 do us 
 no good, you know, praisin' Puff"'s pack, or himself, or anything 
 about him." 
 
 "That's just the point," said Jack, " that's just the point. I 
 can make it answer both our purposes," said he, with a nudge of 
 the elbow, and an inside-out squint of his eyes. 
 
 "Ah, that's another matter," replied our friend; "if we can 
 turn the thing to account, well and good — I'm your man for a shy." 
 
 " We can turn it to account," rejoined Jack ; " we can turn it 
 to account — at least /can ; but then you must do it. He wouldn't 
 take it as any compliment from me. It's the stranger that sees 
 all things in their true lights. D' ye understand ? " asked he, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " 1 twig," replied Sponge.
 
 252 ME. SPONGE'S SPOETING TOUR. 
 
 " You write the accouat," continued Jack, " and I'll manage 
 the rest." 
 
 " You must help me," observed Sponge. 
 
 " Certainly," replied Jack ; " we'll do it together, and go halves 
 in the plunder." 
 
 " Humph," mused Sponge : " halves," said he to himself. " And 
 what will you give me for my half ? " asked lie. 
 
 *' Give you ! " exclaimed Jack, brightening up. " Give you ! 
 Let me see," continued he, pretending to consider, — "PulTsrich 
 —Puff's a liberal fellow — Puff's a conceited beggar — mix it 
 strong," said Jack, " and I'll give you ten pounds." 
 
 " Make it twelve," replied Sponge, after a pause. 
 
 If Jack had said twelve, Sponge would have asked fourteen. 
 
 " Couldn't," said Jack, with a shake of the head ; " it really 
 isn't with (worth) the money." 
 
 The two then rode on in silence for some little distance. 
 
 "I'll tell you what I'll do," said .Jack, spurring his horse, and 
 trotting up the space that the other had now shot ahead. " I'll 
 split the difference with you ! " 
 
 "Well, give me the sov.," said Sponge, holding out his hand for 
 earnest. 
 
 " Why, I havn't a sov. upon me," replied Jack ; " but, honour 
 bright, I'll do what I say." 
 
 " Give me eleven golden sovereigns for my chance," repeated 
 Sponge, slowly, in order that there might be no mistake. 
 
 " Eleven golden sovereigns for your chance," repeated Jack. 
 
 " Done ! " replied Sponge. 
 
 " Done ! " repeated Jack. 
 
 " Let's jog on and do it once while the thing's fresh in our 
 minds," said Jack, working his horse into a trot. 
 
 Sponge did the same ; and the grass-siding of Orlantirc Park- 
 wall favouring their design, they increased the trot to a canter. 
 They soon jjassed the park's bounds, and entering upon one of 
 those rarities — an unenclosed common, angled its limits so as to 
 escape the side-bar, and turning up Farningham Green lane, came 
 out upon the Kingsworth and Swillingford turnpike within sight 
 of Hanby House. 
 
 " We'd better pull up and walk the horses gently in, p'raps," 
 observed Sponge, reining his in. 
 
 " Ah ! I was only wantin' to get home before the rest," observed 
 Jack, pulling up too. 
 
 They then j^roceeded more leisurely together. 
 
 " We'd better get into one of our bed-rooms to do it," observed 
 Jack, as they passed the lodge. 
 
 "just so," replied Sponge ; adding, " I dare say we shall want 
 all the quiet we can got."
 
 3IR. SPONGE'S SPOTTING TOUR. 253 
 
 " Ob, no ! " said Jack ; " the thing's simple enough — met at 
 Euch a place — found at such another — killed at so and so." 
 
 "Well, I hope it will," said Sponge, riding into the stable-yard, 
 and resigning his steed to the care of his groom. 
 
 Jack did the same by Sponge's other horse, which he had been 
 riding, and in reply to Leather's enquiry (who stood with his right 
 hand ready, as if to shake hands with him), " how the horse had 
 carried him ? " replied — 
 
 " Cursed ill," and stamped away without giving him anything. 
 
 " Ah, yoiCro a gen'leman, you are," muttered Leather, as he led 
 the horse away. 
 
 " Now, come ! " exclaimed Jack, to Sponge, " come ! let's get in 
 before any of those bothersome fellows come ; " adding, as he dived 
 into a passage, " I'll show you the back way." 
 
 After passing a scullery, a root-house, and a spacious entrance- 
 hall, upon a table in which stood the perpetual beer-jug and bread- 
 basket, a green baize door let them into the regions of upper 
 service, and passing the dashed carpets of the housekeeper's 
 room and butler's pantry, a red baize door let them into the 
 far-side of the front entrance. Having deposited their hats and 
 whips, they bounded up the richly-carpeted staircase to their 
 rooms. 
 
 Hanby House, as we have already said, was splendidly fur- 
 nished. All the grandeur did not run to the entertaining rooms ; 
 but each particular apartment, from the state bed-room down to 
 the smallest bachelor snuggery, was replete with elegance and 
 comfort. 
 
 Like many houses, however, the bed-rooms possessed every 
 imaginable luxury, except boot-jacks and pens that would write. 
 In Sponge's room, for instance, there were hip-baths, and foot- 
 baths, a shower-bath, and hot and cold baths adjoining, and 
 mirrors innumerable ; an eight-day mantel-clock, by Moline, of 
 Geneva, that struck the hours, half -hours, and quarters : cut-glass 
 toilet candlesticks, with silver sconcce ; an elegant zebra-wood 
 cabinet ; also a beautiful Devonport of zebra-wood, with a plate- 
 glass back, containing a pen rug worked on silver ground, an 
 sbony match box, a blue crystal, containing a sponge pen-wiper, a 
 beautiful envelope-case, a white-cornelian seal, with " Hanby 
 House " upon it, wax of all colours, papers of all textures, enve- 
 lopes without end — every imaginable requirement of correspond- 
 ence except a pen that would write. There icere pens, indeed — 
 there almost always are — but they were miserable apologies of 
 things ; some were mere crow-quills — sort of cover-hacks of pens, 
 while others were great, clumsy, heavy-heeled, cart-horse sort of 
 things, clotted up to the hocks with ink, or split all the way 
 through — vexatious apologies, that throw a person over just at the
 
 254 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTINa TOUR. 
 
 critical moment, when he has got his sheet prepared and his idcaa 
 all ready to pour upon paper ; then splut — splut — splutter goes 
 the pen, and away goes the train of thought. Bold is the man 
 who undertakes to write his letters in his bed-room with country- 
 house pens. But, to our friends. Jack and Sponge slept next 
 door to each other ; Sponge, as wc have already said, occupy- 
 ing the state-room, with its canopy-top bedstead, carved and 
 panelled sides, and elegant chintz curtains lined with pink, and 
 massive silk-and-bullion tassels ; while Jack occupied the dressing- 
 room, which was the state bed-room in miniature, only a good deal 
 more comfortable. The rooms communicated with double doors, 
 and our friends very soon elfected a passage. 
 
 " Uave you any 'baccy ? " asked Jack, waddling in in his 
 slippers, after having sucked off his tops without the aid of a boot- 
 jack. 
 
 " There's some in my jacket-pocket," replied Sponge, nodding 
 to where it hung in the wardrobe ; " but it won't do to smoke here, 
 will it ? " asked he. 
 
 " Why not ? " inquired Jack. 
 
 " Such a fiue room," replied Sponge, looking around. 
 
 "Oh, fine be hanged ! " replied Jack ; adding, as he made for 
 the jacket, " no place too fine for smokin' in." 
 
 Having helped himself to one of the best cigars, and lighted it. 
 Jack composed himself cross-legged in an easy, spring, stuffed 
 chair, while Sponge fussed about among the writing implements, 
 watering and stirring up the clotted ink, and denouncing each 
 pen in succession, as he gave it the initiatory trial in writing the 
 word " Sponge." 
 
 " Curse the pens ! " exclaimed he, throwing the last bright crisp 
 yellow thing from him in disgust. " There's not one among 'cm 
 that can go !— all reg'larly stumped up." 
 
 " Haven't you a penknife ? " asked Jack, taking the cigar out 
 of his mouth. 
 
 " Xot I," replied Sponge. 
 
 " Take a razor, then," said Jack, who was good at an 
 expedient. 
 
 " I'll take one of yours," said Sponge, going into the dressing- 
 room for one. 
 
 " Hang it, but you're rather too sharp," exclaimed Jack, with a 
 shake of his head. 
 
 " It's more than your razor '11 be when I'm done with it," 
 replied Sponge. 
 
 Having at length, with the aid of Jack's razor, succeeded in 
 getting a pen that would vrrite, Mr. Sponge selected a sheet of best 
 cream-laid satin paper, and taking a cane-bottomed chair placed 
 himself at the table in an attitude for writing. Dipping the fino
 
 JACK AND MR, SPONGE WRITING AN ARTICLE. 
 
 iP. 255.
 
 3111. SPONGE'S SPOETING TOUR. 255 
 
 ycllo"^ pen in the ink, he looked in Jack's face for an idea. Jack, 
 who had now got well advanced in his cigar, sat squinting through 
 his spectacles at our scribe, though apparently lookiug at the top 
 of the bed. 
 
 "Well," said Sponge, with a look of inquiry. 
 
 "Well," replied Jack, in a tone of indiil'erence. 
 
 " How shall I begin ?" asked Sponge, twirling the pen between 
 his fingers, and spluttering the ink over the paper. 
 
 " Begin ! " replied Jack, " begin, oh, begin, just as you usually 
 begin." 
 
 " As a letter ? " asked Sponge. 
 
 " I 'spose so," replied Jack ; "how would you think ? " 
 
 " 0, I don't know," replied Sponge. " Will you try your 
 hand ? " added he, holding out the pen. 
 
 "Why, I'm busy just now, you see," said he, pointing to his 
 cigar, " and that horse of yours (Jack had ridden the redoubtable 
 chestnut, Multum in Parvo, who had gone very well in the company 
 of Hercules) pulled so confoundedly that I've almost lost the use 
 of my lingers," continued he, working away as if he had got the 
 cramp in both hands ; " but I'll prompt you," added he, " I'll 
 prompt you." 
 
 "Why don't you begin, then ? " asked Sponge. 
 
 " Begin ! " exclaimed Jack, taking the cigar from his lips ; 
 " begin ! " repeated he, " oh, I'll begin directly — didn't know you 
 were ready." 
 
 Jack then threw himself back in his chair, and sticking out his 
 little bandy legs, turned the whites of his eyes up to the ceiling, 
 as if lost in meditation. 
 
 "Begin," said he, after a pause, "begin, 'This sjileudid pack 
 had a stunning run.' " 
 
 " But we must put JcJiai pack first," observed Sponge, writing 
 the words " Mr. Puffington's hounds " at the top of the paper. 
 " Well," said he, writing on, " this stunning pack had a splendid 
 run." 
 
 " No, not stunning pach,^^ growled Jack, " splendid pack — ' this 
 splendid pack had a stunning run.' " 
 
 " Stop ! " exclaimed Sponge, writing it down ; " well," said he, 
 looking up, " I've got it." 
 
 " This stunning pack had a splendid run," repeated Jack, 
 squinting away at the ceiling. 
 
 " I thought you said splendid pack," observed Sponge. 
 
 « So I did," replied Jack. 
 
 " You said stunning just now," rejoined he. 
 
 " Ah, that was a slip of the tongue," said Jack. " This splendid 
 pack had a stunning run," repeated Jack, appealing again to his 
 cigar for inspiration ; " well then," said he, after a pause, " you
 
 256 ME. SPONGE'S SPOTTING TOUP. 
 
 just go on as usual, you knovr," coutinued he, with a flourish cf 
 his great red hand. 
 
 " As usual ! " exclaimed Sponge, " you don't s'pose one's pen 
 goes of itself." 
 
 " Why no," replied Jack, knocking the ashes off his cigar on 
 to the arabesque-patterned tapestry carpet — " why no, not exactly ; 
 hut these things, you know, are a good deal matter of course ; just 
 •describe what you saw, you know, and butter Puff well, that's the 
 main point." 
 
 " But you forget," replied Sponge, " I don't know the country, 
 I don't know the people, I don't know anything at all about the 
 run — I never once looked at the houuds," 
 
 " That's nothin'," replied Jack, " there'd be plenty like you in 
 that respect. However," continued he, gathering himself, up in 
 his chair as if for an effort, " you can say — let me see what you can 
 say — you can say, ' this splendid pack had a stunning run from 
 llollyburn Hanger, the property of its truly popular master, Mr. 
 Puffington,' or— stop," said Jack, checking himself, " say, ' the 
 property of its truly popular and sporting master, Mr. Puffington.' 
 The cover's just as much mine as it's his," observed Jack ; "it 
 belongs to old Sir Timothy Tcnsthemain, who's vegetating at 
 Boulognc-sur-Mer, but Puff says he'll buy it when it comes to the 
 hammer, so we'll flatter him by considering it his already, just as we 
 Hatter him by calling him a sportsman — sportsman ! " added Jack, 
 wdth a sneer, " he's just as much taste for the thing as a cow." 
 
 " Well," said Sponge, looking up, " I've got 'truly popular and 
 sporting master, Mr. Puffington,' " adding, " hadn't we better say 
 somethmg about the meet and the grand spread here before we 
 begin with the run ? " 
 
 "True," replied Jack, after a long-drawn whiff and anoihcr 
 adjustment of the end of his cigar ; " say that ' a splendid field of 
 well-appointed sportsmen' — " 
 
 " A splendid field of weh-appointed sportsmen," wrote Sponge. 
 
 " ' Among whom we recognised several distinguished strangers 
 and members of Lord Scamperdale's hunt.' That means you and 
 I," observed Jack. 
 
 " ' Of Lord Scamperdale's hunt — that means you and I ' " — read 
 Sponge, as he -wrote it. 
 
 " But you're not to put in that ; you're not to write ' that 
 means you and I,' my man," observed Jack. 
 
 " Oh, I thought that was part of the sentence," replied 
 Sponge. 
 
 " No, no ; " said Jack, " I meant to say that you and I were 
 the distinguished strangers and members of Lord Scamperdale's 
 hunt ; but that's between ourselves you know." 
 
 " Good," said Sponge ; " then I'll strike that out," running his
 
 ME. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 257 
 
 pen through the words " that means you and I." " Now get on," 
 said he, appeahng to Jack, adding, " we've a deal to do yet." 
 
 " Sa3%" said Jack, " ' after partaking of the well-known profuse 
 and splendid hospitality of Hanby House, they proceeded at ouce 
 to Hollyburn Hanger, where a tine seasoned fox' — though some 
 said he was a bag one — " 
 
 " Did they ? " exclaimed Sponge, adding, " well, I thought he 
 went away rather queerly." 
 
 " Oh, it was only old Bung the brewer, who runs down every run 
 he doesn't ride." 
 
 "• Well, never mind," replied Sponge, " we'll make the best of 
 it, whatever it was ; " writing away as he spoke, and repeating the 
 words " bag one " as he penned them. 
 
 " ' Broke away,' " continued Jack — 
 
 " ' In view of the whole field,' " added Sponge. 
 
 " Just so," assented Jack. 
 
 " ' Every hound scoring to cry, and making the' — the — the — 
 what d'ye call the thing ? " asked Jack. 
 
 " Country," suggested Sponge. 
 
 " No," replied Jack, with a shake of the head. 
 
 " Hill and dale ? " tried Sponge again. 
 
 "Welkin I" exclaimed Jack, hitting it off himself — '" makin' 
 the welkin ring with their melody ! ' makin' the welkin ring with 
 their melody," repeated he, with exultation. 
 
 " Capital ! " observed Sponge, as he wrote it. 
 
 " Equal to Littlelegs," * said Jack, squinting his eyes inside out. 
 
 " We'll make a grand thing of it," observed Sponge. 
 
 " So we will," replied Jack, adding, " if we had but a book 
 of po'try we'd weave in some lines here. You haven't a book 
 o' no sort with you that we could prig a little po'try from ? " 
 asked he. 
 
 " No," replied Sponge, thoughtfully. " I'm afraid not ; indeed, 
 I'm sure not. I've got nothin' but ' Mogg's Cab Fares.' " 
 
 " Ah, that won't do," observed Jack, with a shake of the head. 
 " But stay," said he, " there are some books over yonder," pointing 
 to the top of an Indian cabinet, and squinting in a totally ditferenfc 
 direction. " Let's see what they are," added he, rising, and stumping 
 away to where they stood. "I'Promessi Sposi," read he off the back 
 of one : " What can that mean ! Ah, it's Latin," said he, opening 
 the volume. " Contes a ma Fille," read he off the back of another. 
 " That sounds like racin'," observed he, opening the volume ; " it's 
 Latin too," saidhe, returningit. " However,never mind, we'll ' sugar 
 Puff's milk,' as ]\Ir. Bragg would say, without po'try." So saying, 
 Mr. Spraggon stumped back to his easy chair. " Well, now," said 
 
 * Tlie Poetical Recorder of the Doiugs of the Dublin Garrison docs, in 
 BclVs Life.
 
 '258 MR. SPONGE'S SPOUTING TOUR. 
 
 lie seating himself comfortably in it, " let's sec where did we 
 go first ? ' He broke at the lower end of the cover, and crossing 
 the brook, made straight for Fleecyhangh, AVater Meadows, over 
 which,' you may say, ' there's always a ravishing scent.' " 
 
 " Have you got that ? " asked Jack, after what he thought a 
 sufficient lapse of time for writing it. 
 
 " ' Kavishing scent,' " repeated Sponge as he wrote the words. 
 
 " Very good," said Jack, smoking and considering. " ' From 
 there,'" continued he, '"he made a bit of a bend, as if inclining 
 for the plantations at Winstead, but, changing his mind, he 
 faced the rising ground, and crossing over nearly the highest part 
 ■of Shillington Hill, made direct for the little village of Berrington 
 Roothings below. ' " 
 
 " Stop ! " exclaimed Sponge, " I haven't got half that ; I've only 
 got to ' the plantations at AVinstead.' " Sponge made play with 
 his pen, and presently held it up in token of being done. 
 
 " Well," pondered Jack, " there was a ch* "k there. Say," con- 
 tinued he, addressing himself to Sponge, " ' Here the hounds came 
 to a check.' " 
 
 " Here the hounds came to a cheek," Avrote Sponge. " Shall we 
 say anything about distance ? " asked he. 
 
 " P'raps w^e may as well," replied Jack. " We shall have to 
 stretch it though a bit." 
 
 "Let's see," continued he ; from the cover to Berrington Eooth- 
 ings over by Shillington Hill and Fleecyhangh Water Meadows will 
 be — say, two miles and a half or three miles at the most, — call it 
 four,Avell four miles, — say four miles in twelve minutes, twenty miles 
 an hour, — too quick, — four miles in fifteen minutes, sixteen miles 
 an hour ; no — I think p'raps it'll be safer to lump the distance at 
 the end, and put in a place or two that nobody knows the name of, 
 for the convenience of those who were not out." 
 
 "But those who were out will blab, won't they?" asked Sponge. 
 
 " Only to each other," replied Jack. " They'll all stand up for 
 the truth of it as against strangers. You need never be afraid of 
 ovcr-eggin' the puddin' for those that were out." 
 
 " AVell, then," observed Sponge, looking at his paper to report 
 progress, " we've got the hounds to a check. ' Here the hounds 
 came to a check,' " read he. 
 
 " Ah ! now, then," said Jack, in a tone of disgust, " we must 
 say summut handsome of Bragg ; and of all conceited animals 
 under the sun, he certainly is the most conceited. I never saw 
 such a man ! How that unfortunate, infatuated master of his keeps 
 him, I can't for the life of me imagine. Master ! faith, Bragg's 
 the master,^'' continued Jack, ^Yho now began to foam at the 
 mouth. " He laughs at old Pufi' to his face ; yet it's wonderful 
 the influence Bragg has over him. I really believe he has talked
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPOUTING TOUR. 259 
 
 Puff into believing that there's not sucli another huntsman under 
 the sun, and really he's as great a mull' as ever Avalked. He can 
 just dress the character, and that's all." So saying, Jack wiped 
 his mouth on the sleeve of his red coat preparatory to displaying 
 Mr. Bragg upon paper. 
 
 " AVell, now we are at fault," said Jack, motioning Sponge to 
 resume ; " we are at fault ; now say, ' but Mr. Bragg who had 
 ■ridden gallantly on his favourite bay, as fine an animal as ever 
 
 went, though somewhat past mark of mouth ' He is a good 
 
 horse, at least ?m5," observed Jack ; adding, " I sold Puff him, 
 he w\as one of old Sugarlip's," meaning Lord Scamperdale's. 
 
 "Sure to be a good'un then," replied Sponge, with a wink; 
 adding, " I wonder if he'd like to buy any more." 
 
 " We'll talk about that after," replied Jack, " at present let us 
 get on with our run." 
 
 "Well," said Sponge, "I've got it : 'Mr. Bragg who had ridden 
 gallantly on his favourite bay, as fine an animal as ever went, 
 though somewhat past mark of mouth ' " 
 
 " ' Was well up with his hounds,' " continued Jack, " ' and 
 with Vi gently Rantipole ! and a single wave of his arm, proceeded 
 to make one of those scientific casts for which this eminent hunts- 
 man is so justly celebrated.' Justly celebrated ! " repeated Jack, 
 spitting on the carpet with a hawk of disgust ; " the conceited self- 
 sufficient bantam-cock never made a cast worth a copper, or rode a 
 yard but when he thought somebody was looking at him." 
 
 "I've got it," said Sponge, who had plied his pen to good 
 purpose. 
 
 "Justly celebrated," repeated Jack, with a snort. "Well, then, 
 say, ' Hitting off the scent like a workman,' — big H, you know, for 
 .a fresh sentence, — 'they went away again at score, and passing by 
 Moorlinch farm-buildings, and threading tlie strip of plantation by 
 Bcxley Burn, he crossed Silverbury Green, leaving Longford Hutch 
 'to the right, and passing straight on by the gibbet at Harpcu.' 
 Those are all bits of places," observed Jack, " that none but the 
 countryfolks know ; indeed, I shouldn't have known them but for 
 •shootin' over them when old Bloss lived at the Green. AVcll, now 
 have you got all that ? " asked he. 
 
 " ' Gibbet at Harpen,' " read Sponge, as he Avrote it. 
 
 " ' Here, then, the gallant pack, breaking from scent to view,' " 
 -continued Jack, speaking slowl}^, " ' run into their fox in the open 
 close upon Mountnessing AVood, evidently his point from the first, 
 -and into which a few more strides Avould have carried him. It was 
 as fine a run as ever was seen, and the hunting of the hounds was 
 •the admiration of all who saw it. The distance couldn't have been 
 Hess than' — than what shall we say .^ " asked Jack. 
 
 " Ten, twelve miles, as the crow flies," suggested Sponge. 
 
 's 2
 
 2G0 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 '* No," said Jack, " that Avould be too much. Say ten ; " adding', 
 " that Avill be four more tlian it was." 
 
 " Never mind," said Sponge, as he wrote it ; " folks like good 
 measure with riius as well as ribbons." 
 
 " Now^ we must butter Old PufT"," observed Spraggon. 
 
 " AVhat can we say for him 1 " asked Sponge ; " that he never 
 went off the road ? " 
 
 "No, by Jove ! " said Jack ; "you'll spoil all if you do that : 
 better leave it alone altogether than do that. Say, 'the justly 
 popular owner of this most celebrated pack, though riding good 
 fourteen stone' (he rides far more," observed Jack; "at least 
 sixteen ; but it'll please him to make out that he can ride four- 
 teen), ' led the welters, on his famous chestnut horse, Tappey 
 Lappey.' " 
 
 " What shall we say about tlic rest ? " asked Sponge ; " Lumplcg, 
 Slapp, Guano, and all those ? " 
 
 " Oh, say nothin'," replied Jack ; " we've nothin' to do with 
 nobody but Puff ; and we couldn't mention them without bringin' 
 in our Flat Hat men too, Blossomnose, Fyle, Fossick, and so on. 
 Besides, it would spoil all to say that Guano was up — people would 
 say directly it couldn't have been much of a run if Guano was 
 there. You might finish off,'' observed Jack, after a pause, "by 
 saying that ' after this truly brilliant aflair, Mr. Puffington, like tv 
 thorough sportsman, and one who never trashes his hounds un- 
 necessarily — unlike some masters,' you may say, 'who never know 
 when to leave off' (that will he a hit at Old Scamp," observed Jack,, 
 with a frightful squint), '"returned to Hanby House, where a dis- 
 tinguished party of sportsmen — 'or, say 'a distinguished party of 
 noblemen and gentlemen' — that'll please the ass more — ' a largo 
 
 party of noblemen and gentlemen were partaking of his' — his 
 
 what shall we call it?" 
 
 " Grub ! " said Sponge. 
 
 " No, no — summut genteel — his — his — his — ■- 'splendid 
 hospitality ! ' " concluded Jack waving his arm triumphantly over 
 his head. 
 
 "Hard work, authorship!" exclaimed Sponge, as he finished 
 writing, and threw dow^n the pen. 
 
 " Oh, I don't know," replied Jack ; adding, " I could go on for 
 an hour." 
 
 "Ah, you I — that's all very well," replied Sponge, "for you, 
 squatting comfortably in your arm-chair : but consider me, toil- 
 ing with my pen, bothered with the writing, and craning at the 
 spelling." 
 
 "Never mind, we've done it," replied Jack ; adding, " Puff'Il 
 be as pleased as Punch. We've polished him off uncommon. That's 
 just the sort of account to tickle the beggar. He'll go riding-^
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUR. CGI 
 
 about the country, showing it to everybody, and wondering who 
 wrote it." 
 
 " And what shall we send it to ? — the Sj^ortina Magazine, or 
 what ? " asked Sponge. 
 
 '■^ Sjjortinfj Magazine I — no," replied Jack; "wouldn't be out 
 till next year — quick's the word in these railway times. Send it 
 to a newspaper — BclVs Life., or one of the Swillingford papers. 
 Either of them would be glad to put it in." 
 
 " I hope they'll be able to read it," observed Sponge, looking at 
 the blotched and scrawled manuscript. 
 
 "Trust them for that," replied Jack ; adding "If there's any 
 word that bothers them, they've nothin' to do but look in the 
 dictionary — these folks all have dictionaries, wonderful fellows for 
 gpellin'." 
 
 Just then a little buttony page, in green and gold, came in to 
 ask if there were any letters for the post ; and our friends hastily 
 made up their packet, directing it to the editor of the Swilling- 
 ford " Guide TO Glort and Fueeman's Friend;" words that 
 in the hurried style of Mr. Sponge's penmanship looked very like 
 "Guide to Grog, and Freeman's Friend." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 A LITERARY BLOOAIER. 
 
 TniE was when the independent borough of Swillingford 
 supported two newspapers, or rather two editors, the editor of the 
 Swillingford Fairiot, and the editor of the Swillingford Guide fa 
 Glory ; but those were stirring days, when politics ran high 
 and votes and corn commanded good prices. The jiapers were 
 never very prosperous concerns, as may be supposed when wo 
 say that the circulation of the former at its best time was barely 
 seven hundred, while that of the latter never exceeded a 
 thousand. 
 
 They were both started at the reform times, when the reduc- 
 tion of the stamp-duty brought so many aspiring candidates for 
 literary fame into the field, and for a time they were conducted 
 with all the bitter hostility tiiat a contracted neighbourhood, and 
 a constant crossing by the editors of each other's path, could 
 engender. The competition, too, for advertisements, was keen, and 
 the editors were continually taunting each other with taking them 
 for the duty alone. J^neas M'Quirter was the editor of the 
 Patriot, and Felix Grimes that of the Guide to Glorg.
 
 2G2 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 M'Quirter, we need hardly say, was a Scotchman — a big, broad- 
 shouldered Sawney — formidable in "slacks," as he called his 
 trousers, and terrific in kilts ; while Grimes was a native of 
 Swillingford, an ex-schoolmaster and parish clerk, and now an 
 auctioneer, a hatter, a dyer and bleacher, a paper-hanger, to 
 which the wits said when he set up his paper, he added the trade 
 of "stainer." 
 
 At first the rival editors carried on a " war to the knife " sort 
 of contest Avith one another, each denouncing his adversary in 
 terms of the most unmeasured severity. In this they were 
 warmly supported by a select knot of admirers, to whom they read 
 their Aveekly effusions at their respective "houses of call" the 
 evening before publication. Gradually the fire of bitterness began 
 to pale, and the excitement of friends to die out ; M'Quirter 
 presently put forth a signal of distress. To accommodate "a large 
 and influential number of its subscribers and patrons," he deter- 
 mined to publish on a Tuesday instead of on a Saturday as here- 
 tofore, whereupon Mr. Grimes, who had never been able to fill a 
 single sheet properly, now doubled his paper, lowered his charge 
 for advertisements, and hinted at his intention of publishing an 
 occasional supplement. 
 
 However exciting it may be for a time, parties soon tire of 
 carrying on a losing game for the mere sake of abusing each other, 
 and -3^aeas M'Quirter not being behind the generality of his 
 countiymen in " canniness " and shrewdness of intellect, came to 
 the conclusion that it was no use doing so in this case, especially 
 as the few remaining friends who still applauded, would be very 
 sorry to subscribe anything towards his losses. He therefore very 
 quietly negotiated the sale of his paper to the rival editor, and 
 having concluded a satisfactory bargain, he placed the bulk of his 
 property in the poke of his plaid, and walked out of Swillingford 
 just as if b3nt on taking the air, leaving Mr. Grimes in undisputed 
 ])Ossession of both papers, who forthwith commenced leading both 
 Whig and Tory mind, the one on the Tuesday, the other on the 
 Saturday. 
 
 The pot and pipe companions of course saw how things were, but 
 the majority of the readers living in the country, just continued 
 to pin their faith to the printed declarations of their oracles, 
 while Grimes kept up the delusion of sincerity by every now and 
 then fulminating a tremendous denunciation against his trimming 
 vacillating, inconsistent opponent on the Tuesday, and then 
 ictaliating with equal vigour upon himself on the Saturday. He 
 wrote his own " leaders," both Whig and Tory, the arguments of 
 one side jDointiug out answers for the other. Sometimes he led 
 the way for a triumj^hant refutal, while the general tone of the 
 articles was quite of the " upset a ministry " style. Indeed,
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 203 
 
 (irimcs strutted and sung-gered as if the fate of the nation rested 
 with him. 
 
 The papers themselves were not very flourishing-looking- con- 
 cerns, the wide-spread paragraphs, the staring type, the catching 
 advertisements, forming a curious contrast to the close packing of 
 
 MISS liRIMI.S UlViNi^ THE "CORRECTED" COrV TO THE TIUNTER. 
 
 the Times. The " Gutta Percha Company," " Locock's Female 
 Pills," " Keating's Cough Lozenges," and the " Triumphs of 
 Medicine," all with staring woodcuts and royal arms, occupied 
 conspicuous places in every paper. A new advertisement was a 
 novelty. However, the two papers answered a great deal better 
 than either did singly, and any lack of matter was easily supplied 
 from the magazines and new Ijooks. In this department, indeed,
 
 2G4 MB. SPONGI^'S SPOBTING TOUR. 
 
 in the department of elegant light literatnrc generally, ^Iv. Grimes 
 was ably assisted by his eldest daughter, Lucy, — a young lady of a 
 certain age — say liberal thirty — an ardent Bloomer — with a con- 
 siderable taste for sentimental poetry, with which she gencnilly 
 filled the poet's corner. This assistance enabled Grimes to look 
 after his auctioneering, bleaching, and paper-hanging concerns ; 
 and it so happened, that when the foregoing run arrived at the 
 ofRce he, having seen the next paper ready for press, had gone to 
 Mr, Vospers, some ten miles off, to paper his drawing-room, con- 
 sequently the duties of deciding upon its publication devolved on 
 the Bloomer. Now she was a most refined, puritanical young 
 woman, full of sentiment and elegance, with a strong objection to 
 what she considered the inhumanities of the chase. At first she 
 was for rejecting the article altogether, and had it been a run with 
 the Tinglebury harriers, or even, we believe, with Lord Scamper- 
 dale's hounds, she would have consigned it to the " Balaam box," 
 but seeing it was with Mr. Putfiugton's hounds, whose house they 
 had papered, and wlio advertised with them, she condescended to 
 read it ; and though her delicacy was shocked at encountering the 
 word "stunning" at the outset, and also at the term "ravishing 
 scent " further on, she nevertheless sent the manuscript to the 
 compositors, after making such alterations and corrections as she 
 thought would fit it for eyes iwlite. The consequence was, that 
 the article appeared in the following form, though whether all the 
 absurdities were owing to Miss Lucy's corrections, or the care- 
 lessness of the writer, or the printers had anything to do with it, 
 Ave are not able to say. The errors, some of them arising from 
 the mere alteration or substitution of a letter, will strike a sporting, 
 more than a general reader. Thus it appeared in the middle of 
 the third sheet of the Stvillmgford Patriot : — 
 
 SPLENDID EUN 
 WITH ME. PUFPINGTON'S HOUNDS. 
 
 This splendid pack had a superb run from flollyburn Hanger, 
 the property of its truly popular and sporting owner, Mr. Puflfing- 
 ton. A splendid field of well-appointed sportsmen, among whom 
 we recognised several distinguished strangers, and members of 
 Lord Scamperdale's hunt, were present. After jiartaking of the 
 well-known profuse and splendid hospitality of Hanby House, 
 they proceeded at once to Hollyburn Hanger, where a fine seasonal 
 fox, though some said he was a bay one, broke away in view of the 
 Avholc pack, every hound scorning to cry, and making the welkin 
 ring with their melody. He broke at the lower end of the cover,
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. CGu 
 
 and crossing the brook, made straight for Fleecyhaugh Water- 
 Meadows, over wliich tlicre is always an exquisite perfume ; from 
 tlierc he made a slight bend, as if inclining for the plantations at 
 Winstead, but changing his mind, he faced the rising ground, and 
 crossing over nearly the highest point of Shillington Hill, made 
 direct for the little village of Berrington Roothings below. Here 
 the hounds came to a check, but Mr. Bragg, wdio had ridden gal- 
 lantly on his favourite bay, as fine an animal as ever went, though 
 somewhat past work of mouth, was well up with his hounds, and 
 with a "■ gentle rantipolc ! " and a single wave of his arm, pro- 
 ceeded to make one of those scientific rests for which this eminent 
 huntsman is so justly celebrated. Hitting off the scent like a 
 coachman, they went away again at score, and passing by Moor- 
 linch Farm-buildings, and threading the strip of plantation by 
 Bexley Burn, he crossed Silverbury Green, leaving Longford Hutch 
 to the right, and passing straight on by the gibbet at Harpen. 
 Here, then, the gallant pack, breaking from scent to view, ran into 
 their box in the open close upon Mountnessing Wood, evidently 
 his point from the first, and into which a few more strides would 
 have carried him. It was as fine a run as ever was seen, and the 
 grunting of the hounds was the admiration of all who heard it. 
 The distance could not have been less than ten miles as a cow 
 goes. The justly popular owner of this most celebrated pack, 
 though riding good fourteen stones, led the Walters on his famous 
 chestnut horse Tappey Lappey. After this truly brilliant affair, 
 Mr. Puffington, like a thorough sportsman, and one who never 
 thrashes his hounds unnecessarily — unlike some masters who 
 never know when to leave oflF — returned to Hanby House, whei'c 
 a distinguished party of noblemen and gentlemen partook of his 
 splendid hospitality. 
 
 And the considerate Bloomer added of her own accord, " Wo 
 hope we shall have to record many such runs in the imperishable 
 columns of our paper."
 
 2GG 
 
 3IIi. SPONGi:\'^ SPOBTING TOUR. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 A DINNER AND A DP]ATi. 
 
 ANOTHER grand 
 dinner, on a ui ore 
 extensive scale 
 than its prede- 
 cessor, marked 
 the day of this 
 glorious run. 
 
 " There's goin' 
 to be a great blow 
 out," observed 
 Mr. Spraggon to 
 Mr. Sponge, as, 
 crossing his 
 hands and resting 
 them on the 
 crown of his head, 
 he throw himself 
 back in his easy 
 chair, to recruit 
 after the exertion 
 of concocting the 
 description of the 
 run. 
 
 "How d'ye 
 
 MR. PACEV. 
 
 know ? " 
 Sponge. 
 " Saw 
 adding, " it 
 
 asked 
 
 by the 
 reaches 
 
 dinner table as we passes!," replied Jack 
 nearly to the door." 
 
 " Indeed," said Sponge, " I wonder who's coming ? " 
 
 " Most likely Guano, again ; indeed, I know he is, for I asked 
 his groom if he was going home, and he said no ; and Lumpleg, 
 you may be sure, and possibly old Blossomnose, Slapp, and, very 
 likely, young Pacey." 
 
 " Are they chaps wiLh any ' go ' in them ? — shake their elbows, 
 or anything of that sort ? " asked Sponge, working away as if he 
 had tlie dice-box in his hand. 
 
 " I hardly know," replied Jack, thoughtfully. " I hardly know. 
 Young Pacey, I think, might be made summut on ; but his uncle,
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SFOBTING TOUn. 2G7 
 
 Major Screw, looks uncommon sharp ar^cr liim, and he's a 
 mino]'." 
 
 " Would he pa>/ ? " asked Spong:e, who, kecpinc: as he said, " no 
 books," was not inclined to do business on " tick." 
 
 "Don't know," replied Jack, squintinp^ at half-cock; "don't 
 know — would depend a good deal, I should say, upon how it wns 
 done. It's a deuced unhandsome world this. If one wins a trifle 
 of a youngster at cards, let it be ever so openly done, it's sure to 
 say one's cheated him, just because one happens to be a little 
 older, as if age had anything to do with making the cards como 
 right." 
 
 "It's an ungenerous world," observed Sponge, "and it's no use 
 being abused for nothing. What sort of a genius is Pacey ? Is 
 he inclined to go the pace ? " 
 
 " Oh, quite," replied Jack ; " his great desire is to be thought a 
 sportsman." 
 
 "A sportsman or a sporting man ? " asked Sponge. 
 
 "W-li-o-y! I should say p'raps a sportin' man more than the 
 sportsman," replied Jack. " He's a great lumbcrin' lad, buttons 
 his great stomach into a Newmarket ciit-a-way, and carries a 
 betting-book in his breast pocket." 
 
 " 01), he's a bettor, is he ! " exclaimed Sponge, brightening up. 
 
 "He's a raw poult of a chap," replied Jack ; "just ready for 
 anything — in a small way, at least — a chap that's always offering 
 two to one in half-crowns. He'll have money, though, and can't 
 be far oft' age. His father was a great spectacle-maker. You 
 have heard of Pacey's spectacles ? " 
 
 " Can't say as how I have," replied Sponge ; adding, " they 
 arc more in your line than mine." 
 
 The further consideration of the youth was interrnptcd by|tho 
 entrance of a footman with hot water, who announced that dinner 
 would be ready in half an hour. 
 
 " Who's there coming ? " asked Jack. 
 
 " Don't know^ 'xactly, sir," replied the man ; " believe much the 
 same party as yesterday, witii the addition of Mr. Pacey ; Mr. 
 Miller, of Newton ; Mr. Fogo, of Bellevue ; Mr. Brown, of the 
 Hill ; and some others, whose names I forget." 
 
 " Is Major Screw coming ? " asked Sponge. 
 
 " I rayther think not, sir. I think I heard Mr. Plammey, the 
 butler say he declined." 
 
 "So much the better," growled Jack, throwing off' his purple- 
 lapped coat in commencement of his toilette. As the two dressed 
 they discussed the point how Pacey might be done. 
 
 When our friends got down stairs it was evident there was a 
 great spread. Two red plushcd footmen stood on guard in the 
 entrance, helping the arrivers out of their wraps, while a buzz of
 
 208 MTl. SPONGE'S SFOETINQ TOUR. 
 
 conversation sonnded through the partially-opened drawing-room 
 door, as Mr. Plummey, stood, handle in hand, to announce the 
 names of the gnests. Oar friends, having the entree, of course 
 passed in as at home, and mingled with the comers and stayers. 
 Guest after guest quickly followed, almost all making the same 
 observation, namely, that it was a fine day for the time of year, 
 and then each sidled off, rubbing his hands, to the fire. Captain 
 Guano monopolized about one-half of it, like a Colossus of Rhodes, 
 with a coat-lap under each arm. He seemed to think that, being 
 a stayer, he had more right to the fire than the mere diners. 
 
 Mr. Puffington moved briskly among the motley throng, now 
 expatiating on the splendour of the run, now hoping a friend was * 
 hungry, asking a third after his wife, and apologising to a fourt]> 
 for not having called on his sister. Still his real thoughts were iii 
 the kitchen, and he kept counting noses and looking anxiously at 
 the time-piece. After the door had had a longer rest than usual, 
 Blossomnosc at last cast up: "Now we're all here, surely!" 
 thought he counting about ; " one, two, three, four, five, six, 
 seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, thirteen, fourteen, 
 myself fifteen, fifteen, fifteen, must be another, sixteen, eight 
 couple asked. Oh, that Pacey's wanting ; always comes late, 
 won't wait" — so saying, or rather thinking, Mr. Pufnngton rang 
 the bell and ordered dinner. Pacey then cast up. 
 
 He was just the sort of swaggering youth that Jack had described ; 
 n youth who thought money would do everything in the world — 
 make him a gentleman, in short. He came rolling into the room, 
 j;;rinning as if he had done something fine in being late. He had 
 hoth his great red hands in his tight trouscr pockets, and drew the 
 right one out to i'avour his friends with it " all hot." 
 
 " I'm late, I guess," said he, grinning round at the assembled 
 guests, now dispersed in the various attitudes of expectant eaters, 
 some standing ready for a start, some half sitting on tables and 
 sofa ends, others resigning themselves complacently to their 
 chaii-s, abusing Mr. Pacey and all dinner delayers. 
 
 " I'm late, I guess," repeated he, as he now got navigated up to 
 his host and held out his hand. 
 
 " never mind," replied Pufilngton, accepting as little of the 
 proffered paw as he could ; " never mind," repeated he, adding, as 
 he looked at the French clock on the mantel-piece now chiming a 
 quarter past six, " I dare say I told you we dined at half-past 
 five." 
 
 " Dare say you did, old boy," replied Pacey, kicking out his 
 legs, and giving Puflfington what he meant for a friendly poke in 
 the stomach, but which in reality nearly knocked his wind out ; 
 " dare say you did, old boy, but so you did last time, if you 
 remember, and deuce a bit did I get before six ; so I thought I'd
 
 MR. SPOXGKS SPORTING TOUR. 2C9 
 
 he quits Avitli you this — Joe — he — lie — haw — luiiv — haw,'''' giinuing 
 and staring about as if he had done something very clever. 
 
 Pacey was one of those deplorable beings — a country swell. 
 Tomkins and Hopkins, the haberdashers of SwiUingford, never 
 exhibited an ngly, out-of-the-way neckclotli or waistcoat with the 
 words " patronised by the Prince," "very fashionable," or "quite 
 the go," upon them, but he immediately adorned himself in one. 
 On the present occasion he was attired in a wide-stretching, lace- 
 tipped, black Joinville, with recumbent gills, showing the heavy 
 amplitude of his enormous jaws, while the extreme scooping out of 
 a coUarless, flashy-buttoned, chain-daubed, black silk Avaistcoat, 
 with broad blue stripes, aflbrded an uninterrupted view of a costly 
 embroidered shirt, the view extending, indeed, up to a portion of 
 his white satin " forget-me-not " embroidered braces. His coat 
 was a broad-sterned, brass-buttoned blue, with pockets outside, 
 and of course he wore a pair of creaking highly varnished boots. 
 He was, apparently about twenty ; just about the age when a 
 youth thinks it fine to associate with men, and an age at which 
 some men are not above taking advantage of a youth. Perhaps 
 he looked rather older than he was, for he was stiff built aud 
 strong, with an ample crop of whiskers, extending from his great 
 red docken ears round his harvest moon of a face. He was lumpy, 
 and clumsy, and heavy all over. Having now got inducterl, ho 
 began to stare round the party, and first addressed our wortliy 
 friend Mr. Spraggon. 
 
 " Well, Sprag, how are you ? " asked he. 
 
 " Well, Specs " (alluding to his father's trade), " how are you ?" 
 replied Jack, with a growl, to the evident satisfaction of the party, 
 who seemed to regard Pacey as the common enemy. 
 
 Fortunately just at the moment Mr. Plummey restored liarmony 
 by announcing dinner ; and after the usual backing and retiring 
 of mock modesty, Mr. Puffington said he would " show them the 
 way," when there was as great a rush to get in, to avoid the bugbear 
 of sitting with their backs to the fire, as there had been apparent 
 disposition not to go at all. Notwithstanding the unfavourable 
 aspect of aifairs, Mr. Spraggon placed himself next Mr. Pacey, 
 who sat a good way down the table, while ]\Ir. Sponge occupied 
 the post of honour by our host. 
 
 In accordance with the usual tactics of these sort of gentlemen, 
 Spraggon and Sponge essayed to be two — if not exactly strangers, 
 at all events gentlemen with very little acquaintance. Spraggou 
 took advantage of a dead silence to call up the table to Mi^fer 
 Sponge to take wine ; a compliment that Sponge acknowledged 
 the accordance of by a very low bow into his plate, and by-and-by 
 ]\Iister Sponge "IMistered" Mr. Spraggon to return the compliment. 
 " Do you know much of that — that — that — chcq) ? " (he would
 
 I'TO MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 have said snob if he'd thought it would be safe,) asked Pacey, as 
 8pon,2:e returned to still life after the first wine ceremony. 
 
 " No," replied Spraggon, " nor do I wish." 
 
 " Great snob," observed Pacey. 
 
 " Shocking," assented Spraggon. 
 
 " He's got a good horse or two, though," observed Pacey ; " I 
 saw them on the road coming here the other day." Pacey, like 
 many youngsters, professed to be a judge of horses, and thought 
 iiimself rather sharp at a deal. 
 
 " They are good horses," replied Jack, with an emphasis on the 
 good ; adding, " Pd be very glad to have one of them." 
 
 j\If. Spraggon then asked Mr. Pacey to take champagne, as the 
 •commencement of a better understanding. 
 
 The wine flowed freely, and the guests, particularly the fresh 
 infusion, did ample justice to it. The guests of the day before, 
 having indulged somewhat freely, were more moderate at first, 
 tliough they seemed well inclined to do their best after they got 
 their stomachs a little restored. Spraggon could drink any given 
 ■quantity at any time. 
 
 The conversation got brisker and brisker : and before the cloth 
 Avas drawn there was a very general clamour, in which all sorts of 
 subjects seemed to be mixed, — each man addressing himself to his 
 immediate neighbour ; one talking of taxes, — another of tares, — 
 a third, of hunting and the system of kennel, — a fourth, of the 
 corn-laws, — old Blossomnose, about tithes, — Slapp, about timber 
 and water-jumping, — Miller, about Collison's pills; and Guano, 
 nbout anything that he could get a word edged in about. Great, 
 indeed, was the hubbub. Gradually, however, as the evening 
 advanced Pacey and Guano out-talked the rest, and at length 
 Pacey got the noise pretty well to himself. When anything 
 <lefinite could be extracted from the mass of confusion, he was cs- 
 ]iatiating on steeple-chasing, hurdle-racing, weights for age, ons and 
 oITs clever — a sort of mixture of hunting, racing, and " Aiken." 
 
 Sponge cocked his ear, and sat on the watch, occasionally haz- 
 arding an observation, while Jack, who was next Pacey, on the 
 left, pretended to decry Sponge's judgment, asking solio voce, with 
 ii whiff through his nose, what such a cockney as that could know 
 about horses ? What between Jack's encouragement, and the 
 inspiring influence of the bottle, aided by his own self-sufficiency, 
 Pacey began to look upon Sponge with anything but admiration ; 
 and at last it occurred to him that he would be a very proper 
 subject to, what he called " take the shine out of." 
 
 " That isn't a bad-like nag, that chestnut of yours, for the 
 wheeler of a coach, Mr. Sponge," exclaimed he, at the instigation 
 of Spraggon, to our friend, producing, of course, a loud guffaw 
 from the party.
 
 3IR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 271 
 
 " No, he isn't," replied Sponge, coolly ; adding, " very like one, 
 I should say." 
 
 " Devilish ^oofZ horse," growled Jack in Pacey's ear. 
 
 " Oh, I dare say," whispered Pacey, pretending to be scraping 
 «p the orange syrup in his plate ; adding, " I'm only chaffing the 
 heggar." 
 
 " He looks solitary without the coach at his tail," continued 
 Paccy, looking up, and again addressing Sponge up the table. 
 
 " He does,'" affirmed Sponge, amidst the laughter of the 
 pnrty. 
 
 Pacey didn't know how to take this ; whether as a " sell " or a 
 compUment to his own wit. He sat for a few seconds grinning 
 and staring like a fool ; at last, after gulping down a bumper of 
 olaret, he again fixed his unmeaning green eyes upon Sponge, and 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " I'll challenge your horse, Mr. Sponge." 
 
 A burst of applause followed the announcement ; for it wns 
 evident that amusement was in store. 
 
 " You'll w-h-a-iv-t ? " replied Sponge, staring, and pretending 
 ignorance. 
 
 "I'll challenge your horse," repeated Pacey with confidence, 
 ■and in a tone that stopped the lingering murmur of conversation, 
 •and fixed the attention of the company on himself. 
 
 " I don't understand you," replied Sponge, pretending astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 " Lor bless us I why where have you lived all your life ? " asked 
 Pacey. 
 
 "Oh, partly in one place, and partly in another," was the 
 •answer. 
 
 " I should think so," replied Pacey, with a look of compassion ; 
 adding, in an under tone, " a good deal with your mother I 
 •should think." 
 
 " If you could get that horse at a moderate figure," whispered 
 Jack to his neighbour, and squinting his eyes inside out as he 
 spoke, " he's well worth having." 
 
 " The beggar won't sell him," muttered Pacey, who was fonder 
 of talking about buying horses than of buying them. 
 
 " Oh yes, he will," replied Jack ; " he didn't understand what 
 jou meant. Mr. Sponge," said he, addressing himself slowly and 
 distinctly up the table to our hero — " Mr. Sponge, my friend Mr. 
 Pacey here challenges your chestnut." 
 
 Sponge still stared in well-feigned astonishment. 
 
 " It's a custom we have in this country," continued Jack, 
 looking, as he thought, at Sponge, but, in reality, squinting most 
 .frightfully at the sideboard. 
 
 " Do you mean he wants to buy him ? " asked Sponge.
 
 272 ME. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 "Yes," replied Jack, confidently. 
 
 " No, I do?i't,'" whispered Pacey, chiving Jack a kick under the 
 table. Pacey had not yet drunk sufficient wine to be rash. 
 
 "Yes, yes," replied Jack, tartly, "yo?< f/o,-" adding, in an 
 under tone, "leave it to me, man, and I'll let you in for a gDod 
 thing. Yes, Mr. Sponge," continued he, addressing himself to our 
 hero, "Mr. Pacey fancies the chestnut, and challenges him." 
 
 " Why doesn't he ask the price ? " replied Sponge, who was 
 always ready for a deal. 
 
 " Ah, the price must be left to a third party," said Jack. " The 
 principle of the thing is this," continued he, enlisting the aid of 
 his fingers to illustrate his position : " Mr. Pacey, here," said he, 
 applying the forefinger of his right hand to the thumb of the left, 
 looking earnestly at Sponge, but in reality squinting up at the 
 chandelier — " Mr. Pacey here challenges your horse ' Multum-in- 
 somethin' — I forget what you said you call him — but the nag I 
 rode to-day. Well, then," continued Jack, "you" (demonstrating 
 Sponge by pressing his two forefingers together, and holding them 
 erect) " accept the challenge, but can challenge anything Mr. 
 Pacey has— a horse, dog, gun — anything ; and, having fixed on 
 somethin', then a third party " (who Jack represented by cocking 
 up his thumb), " any one you like to name, makes the award. 
 Well, having agreed upon that party " (Jack still cocking up the 
 thumb to represent the arbitrator), " he says, ' Give me money.' 
 The two then put, say half-a-crown or five shillin's each, into his 
 hand, to which the arbitrator adds the same sum for himself. 
 That being done, the arbitrator says, ' Hands in pockets, 
 gen'lcmcn'" (Jack diving his right hand up to the hilt in his 
 own). " If this be an award, Mr. Pacey's horse gives Mr. Sponge's 
 liorse so much — drawy (Jack suiting the action to the word, 
 and laying his fist on the table.) " If each person's hand contains 
 money, it is an award — it is a deal ; and the arbitrator gets the 
 half-crowns, or whatever it is, for his trouble ; so that, in course, 
 he has a direct interest in makin' such an award as will lead to a 
 deal. lioia do you understand ? " continued Jack, addressing 
 himself earnestly to Sponge. 
 
 " I think I do," replied Sponge who had been at the game 
 pretty often. 
 
 "Well, then," continued Jack, reverting to his original position, 
 " my friend, Mr. Pacey here, challenges your chestnut." 
 
 " No, 7iever mind,'" muttered Pacey, peevishly, in an under tone, 
 with a frown on his face, giving Jack a dig in the ribs with his 
 elbow. " Never mind," repeated he ; " / don't care about it — / 
 don't want the horse." 
 
 " But / do," growled Jack ; adding, in an under tone also, as 
 he stooped for his napkin, " don't spoil sjwt, man ; he's as good a
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 273 
 
 horse as ever stepped ; and if you'll challenge him, I'll stand 
 between you and dano-er." 
 
 " But he may challenge something I don't Avant to part with," 
 observed Pacey. 
 
 "Then you've nothin' to do," replied Jack, "but Lring np your 
 hand without any money in it." 
 
 " Ah ! I forgot," replied Pacey, who did not like not to appear 
 what he called " fly." " Well, then, I challenge your chestnut ! " 
 exclaimed he, perking up, and shouting up the table to Sponge. 
 
 " Good ! " replied our friend. " I challenge your watch and 
 chain, then," looking at Pacey's chain-daubed vest. 
 
 "Name me arbitrator," muttered Jack, as he again stooped for 
 his napkin. 
 
 "Wiio shall handicap us? Captain Guauo, Mr. Lumplcg, or 
 who ? " asked Sponge. 
 
 " Suppose we say Sprnggon ? — he says he rode the horse to-day," 
 replied Pacey. 
 
 " Quite agreeable," said Sponge. 
 
 " Now, jack ! " " Now, Spraggon ! " " Now, old Solomon ! " 
 "Now, Doctor Wiseman, "resounded from different parts of the table. 
 
 Jack looked solemn ; and diving both hands into his breeches' 
 pockets, stuck out his legs extensively before him. 
 
 " Give me money," said he, pompously. They each handed him 
 Jialf-a-crown ; and Jack added a third for himself. " Mr. Pacey 
 challenges Mr. Sponge's chestnut horse, and Mr. Sponge challenges 
 Mr. Pacey's gold watch," observed Jack, sententiously. 
 
 " Come, old Slowman, go on ! " exclaimed Guano ; adding, 
 " have you got no further than that ? " 
 
 "Hurry no man's cattle," replied Jack, tartly; adding, "you 
 may keep a donkey yourself some day." 
 
 "Mr. Pacey challenges Mr. Sponge's chestnut horse," repeated 
 Jack. " How old is the chestnut, Mr. Sponge ? " added he, 
 addressing himself to our friend. 
 
 " Upon my word I hardly know," replied Sponge, " he's past 
 mark of mouth ; but I think a hunter's age has very little to do 
 with his worth." 
 
 " AVho-y, that depends," rejoined Jack, blowing out his cheeks, 
 and looking as pompous as possible — " that depends a good deal 
 njjon how he's been used in his youth." 
 
 "He's about nine, I should say," observed Sponge, pretending 
 to have been calculating, though, in reality, he knew nothing 
 Avhatever about the horse's age. " Say nine, or rising ten, and 
 never did a day's work till he was six." 
 
 " Indeed ! " said Jack, with an important bow ; adding, " being 
 easy with them at the bcgiunin' puts on a deal to the end. Perfect 
 hunter, I 'spose ? "
 
 274 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUIi. 
 
 "Why you can judge of that yourself," replied Sponge. 
 "Perfect hunter, /should say," rejoined Jack, "aud steady at 
 his fences — don't know that I ever rode a better fencer. Well," 
 continued he, having apparently pondered all that over in his 
 mind, " I must trouble you to let me look at your ticker," said he, 
 turning short round on his neighbour. 
 
 " There," said Mr. Pacey, producing a fine flash watch from his 
 waistcoat-pocket, and holding it to Jack. 
 
 "The chain's included m the challenge, mind," observed 
 Sponge. 
 
 " In course," said Jack ; " it's what the pawnbrokers call a 
 watch with its appurts." (Jack had his watch at his uncle's and 
 knew the terms exactly.) 
 
 " It's a repeater, mind," observed Pacey, taking off the chain. 
 
 "The chain's heavy," said Jack, running it up in his hand ; 
 " and here's a pistol-key and a beautiful pencil-case, with the 
 Pacey crest and motto," observed Jack, trying to decipher the 
 latter. " If it had been without the words, whatever they are," 
 said he, giving up the attempt, " it would have been vrorth more, 
 but the gold's fine, and a new stone can easily be put in." 
 
 He then pulled an old hunting-card out of his pocket, and 
 proceeded to make sundry calculations and estimates in pencil on 
 the back. 
 
 " Well now," said he, at length, looking up, " I shoidd say, such 
 a watch as that aud appnrts," holding them up, "couldn't be 
 bought in a shop imdcr eight-and-twenty pund." 
 
 " It cost five-and-thirty," observed Mr. Pacey. 
 
 " Did it ! " rejoined Jack ; adding, " then you were done." 
 
 Jack then proceeded to do a little more arithmetic, during 
 which process Mr. Paffington passed the wine and gave as a toast— 
 " tSnccess to the handicap." 
 
 " Well," at length said Jack, having apparently struck a balance, 
 " hands in pocket, gen'lemen. If this is an award, Mr. Pacey's 
 gold watch and appurts gives Mr. Sponge's chestnut horse seventy 
 golden sovereigns. jShow moiici/,'" whispered Jack to Pacey, adding, 
 " I'll stand the shot.'' 
 
 " Stop ! " roared Guano, " do either of you sport your hand ? " 
 
 " Yes, I do," replied Mr. Pacey, coolly. 
 
 " And I," said Mr. Sponge. 
 
 " Hold hard, then, gen'leman ! " roared Jack, getting excited, 
 and beginning to foam. " Hold hard, gen'lemen ! " repeated he, 
 just as he was in the habit of roaring at the troublesome customers 
 in Lord Scamperdale's field ; " Mr. Pacey and Mr. Sponge both 
 sport their hands." 
 
 " I'll lay a guinea Pacey doesn't hold money," exclaimed 
 Guano.
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPOETING TOUR. 275 
 
 " Done ! " exclaimed Parson Blossomnose. 
 
 *' I'll bet it does," observed Charley Slapp. 
 
 " I'll take yoii," replied Mr. Miller. 
 
 Then the hubbub of betting commenced, and raged v,-ith fury 
 for a short time ; some betting sovereigns, some half-sovereigns, 
 others half-crowns and shillings, as to whether the hands of one 
 or both held money. 
 
 Givers and takers being at length accommodated, perfect silence 
 at length reigned, and all eyes turned upon the doubled fists of 
 the respective champions. 
 
 Jack having adjusted his great tortoiseshell-rimmed spectacles, 
 and put on a most consequential air, inquired, like a gambling-house 
 keeper, if they were "All done " — had all "made their game ?" 
 And "Yes ! yes ! yes ! " resounded from all quarters. 
 
 "Then, gen'lemen," said Jack, addressing Pacey and Sponge, 
 who still kept their closed hands on the table — " show ! " 
 
 At the word, their hands opened, and each held money. 
 
 "A deal! a deal! a deal!" resounded through the room, 
 accompanied with clap]iing of hands, thumping of the table, and 
 dancing of glasses. " You owe me a guinea," exclaimed one. " I 
 want half a sovereign of you," roared another. " Here's my half- 
 crown," said a third, handing one across the table to the fortunate 
 winner. A general settlement took place, in the midst of which 
 the " watch and appurts " were handed to Mr. Sponge. 
 
 " We'll drink Mr. Pacey's health," said Mr. Putfington helping 
 himself to a bumper, and passing the lately replenished decanters. 
 " He's done the thing like a sportsman, and deserves to have luck 
 with his deal. Yom* good health, Mr. Pacey ! " continued he, 
 addressing himself specifically to our friend, " and luck to your 
 horse." 
 
 " Your good health, Mr. Pacey — your good health Mr. Pacey — 
 your good health, Mr. Pacey," then followed in the various intona- 
 tions that mark the feelings of the speaker towards the toastee, as 
 the bottles passed round the table. 
 
 The excitement seemed to have given fresh zest to the Aviue, and 
 those who had been shirking, or tilling on heel-taps, now began 
 filling bumpers, while those who always filled bumpers now took 
 back hands. 
 
 There is something about horse-dealing that seems to interest 
 every one. Conversation took a brisk turn, and nothing but the 
 darkness of the night prevented their having the horse out and 
 trying him. Pacey wanted him brought into the dining-room, a 
 la Briggs, but Puff wouldn't stand that. The transfer seemed to 
 have invested the animal with supernatural charms, and those who 
 in general cared nothing about horses Avanted to have a sight of 
 him. 
 
 X 2
 
 276 MR. SPONGE'S SPOnTING TOUB. 
 
 Toasting having commenced, as usual, it was proceeded with. 
 Sponge's health followed that of Mr. Pacey's, Mr, Puffington 
 availing himself of the opportunity afforded by proposing it, of 
 expressing the gratification it afforded himself and all true sports- 
 men to see so distinguished a character in the country ; and he 
 concluded by hoping that the diminution of his stud would not 
 interfere with the length of his visit — a toast that was drunk with 
 great applause. 
 
 Mr. Sponge replied by saying, "That he certainly had not 
 intended parting with his horse, though one more or less was 
 neither here nor there, especially in these railway times, when a 
 man had nothing to do but take a half-guinea's worth of electric 
 wire, and have another horse in less than no time ; but Mr. Pacey 
 having taken a fancy to the horse, he had been more accommoda- 
 ting to him than he had to his friend, Mr. Spraggon, if he would 
 allow him to call him so (Jack squinted and bowed assent), who," 
 continued Mr. Sponge, " had in vain attempted that morning to 
 get him to put a price upon him." 
 
 " Vera true,''' whispered Jack to Pacey, with a feel of the elbow 
 in his ribs, adding, in an under tone, "the beggar doesn't think 
 I've got him in spite of him, though." 
 
 "The horse," Mr. Sponge continued, "was an undeniable good 
 'un and he wished Mr. Pacey joy of his bargain." 
 
 This venture having been so successful, others attempted similar 
 means, appointing Mr. Spraggon the arbitrator. Captain Guano 
 challenged Mr. Fogo's phaeton, while Mr. Togo retaliated upon 
 the captain's chestnut horse ; but the captain did not hold 
 money to the award. Blossomnose challenged Mr. Miller's pig : 
 but the latter could not be induced to claim anything of the 
 worthy rector's for Mr. Spraggon to exercise his appraising talents 
 upon. After an evening of much noise and confusion, the wine- 
 heated party at last broke up — the staying company retiring to 
 their couches, and the outlying ones finding their ways home as 
 best they could.
 
 MIL BPONGE'B SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 277 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 THE morning's reflections. 
 
 HEN young 
 Pacey awoke 
 in the morn- 
 ing he had a 
 very bad head- 
 ache, and his 
 temples throb- 
 bed as if the 
 veins would 
 burst their 
 bounds. The 
 first thing that 
 recalled the 
 actual position 
 of affiiirs to his 
 mind was feel- 
 ing under the 
 pillow for his 
 watch: a fruit- 
 less search, 
 that ended in 
 I'ecalling some- 
 thing of the 
 overnight's 
 proceedings. 
 
 Pacey liked 
 a cheap flash, 
 and when elated with wine might be betrayed into indiscretions 
 that his soberer moments were proof against. Indeed, among 
 youths of his own age he was reckoned rather a sharp hand ; and 
 it was the vanity of associating with men, and wishing to appear 
 a match for them, that occasionally brought him into trouble. In 
 a general way, he was a very cautious hand. 
 
 He now lay tumbling and tossing about in bed, and little by 
 little he laid together the outline of the evening's proceedings, 
 beginning with his challenging Mr. Sponge's chestnut, and 
 ending with the resiguation of his watch and chain. He 
 thought he was wrong to do anything of the sort. He didn't want 
 the horse, not he. What should he do with him ? he had one 
 more than he wanted as it was. Then, paying for him seventy 
 
 MR PVFl'-lNOrOK.
 
 278 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 sovereigns ! confound it, it would be very inconvenient — most 
 inconvenient — indeed, he couldn't do it, so there was end of it. 
 The facilities of carrying out after-dinner transactions frequently 
 vanish with the morning's sun. So it was with Mr. Pacey. Then 
 he began to think how to get out of it. .Should he tell Mr. Sponge 
 candidly the state of his finances, and trust to his generosity for 
 letting him ofT ? Was Mr. Sponge a likely man to do it ? He 
 thought he was. But then, would he blab ? He thought he 
 would, and that would blow him among those by whom he wished 
 to be thought knowing, a man not to be done. Altogether he was 
 very much perplexed : seventy pounds was a vast of money ; and 
 then there was his watch gone, too ! a hundred and more altogether. 
 He must have been drunk to do it — very drunk, he should say ; 
 and then he began to think whether he had not better treat it as 
 an after-dinner frolic, and pretend to forget all about it. That 
 seemed feasible. 
 
 All at once it occurred to Pacey that Mi'. Spraggon was the 
 purchaser, and that he was only a middle-man. His headache 
 forsook him for the moment, and he felt a new man. It was 
 clearly the case, and bit by bit he recollected all about it. How 
 Jack had told him to challenge the horse, and he would stand to 
 the bargain ; how he had whispered him (Pacey) to name him 
 (J tick) arbitrator ; and how he had done so, and Jack had made 
 the award. Then he began to think tliat the horse must be a 
 good one, as Jack would not set too high a price on him, seeing 
 that he was the purchaser. Then he wondered that he had put 
 enough on to induce Sponge to sell him : that rather puzzled him. 
 He lay a long time tossing, and proing and cnning, without being 
 able to arrive at any satisfactory solution of the matter. At last 
 he rang his bell, and finding it was eight o'clock he got up, and 
 proceeded to dress himself ; which operation being accomplished, 
 he sought Jack's room, to have a little confidential conversation 
 with him on the subject, and arrange about paying Sponge for the 
 horse, without letting out who was the purchaser. 
 
 Jack was snoring, with his great mouth wide open, and his 
 grizzly head enveloped in a white cotton nightcap. The noise of 
 Pacey entering awoke him. 
 
 " Well, old boy," growled he, turning over as soon as he saw who 
 it was, " what are you up to ? " 
 
 " Oh, nothing particular," replied Mr. Pacey, in a careless sort of 
 tone. 
 
 " Then make yourself scarce, or I'll baptise you in a way yen 
 won't like," growled Jack, diving under the bedclothes. 
 
 " Oh, why I just wanted to have — have half-a-dozen words with 
 you about our last night's " {Jia — hem — Juiw !) " handicap, you 
 know — about the horse you know."
 
 ME. SPONGE'S SPOETING TOUE. 279 
 
 "About the tv-h-a-w-iV drawled Jack, as if perfectly ignorant 
 of what Pacey was talking about. 
 
 ''About the horse, you know — about Mr. Sponge's horse, you 
 know — that you got me to challenge for you, you know," stammered 
 Pacey. 
 
 " Oh, dash it, the chap's drunk," growled Jack aloud to himself; 
 adding to Paeey, " you shouldn't get up so soon, man — slec}) the 
 drink'off." 
 
 Pacey stood nonplussed. 
 
 " Don't you remember, ]\Ir. Spraggon," at last asked he, 
 after watching tlie tassel of Jack's cap peeping above the bed- 
 clothes, " wliat took place last night, you know ? You asked 
 me to get you Mr. Sponge's chestnut, and you know I did, you 
 know." 
 
 " Hout, lad, disperse ! — get out of this ! " exclaimed Jack, 
 starting his great red face above the bedclothes, and squinting 
 frightfully at Pacey. 
 
 "Well, my dear friend, but you did," observed Pacey, sooth- 
 ingly. 
 
 " Nonsense ! " roared Jack, again ducking under. 
 
 Pacey stood agape. 
 
 " Come ! " exclaimed Jack, again starting up, " cut your stick ! 
 — be off! — make yourself scarce! — give your rags a gallop, in 
 short ! — don't be after disturbin' a gen'leman of fortin's rest in 
 this way." 
 
 " But, my dear Mr. Spraggon," resumed Pacey, in the same 
 gentle tone, " you surely forget what you asked me to do." 
 
 "/rfo," replied Jack, firmly. 
 
 " Well, but, my dear Mr. Spraggon, if you'll have the kindness 
 to recollect — to consider — to reflect on what passed, you'll surely 
 remember commissioning me to challenge Mr. Sponge's horse for 
 you?" 
 
 "J/e.'" exclaimed Jack, bouncing up in bed, and sitting 
 squinting furiously. " Me 1 " repeated he ; " i<;ipossible. How 
 could /do such a thing ? Why, I handicap'd him, man, for you, 
 man ? " 
 
 "You told me, for all that," replied ]\Ir. Pacey, with a jerk of 
 the head. 
 
 " Oh, by Jove ! " exclaimed Jack, taking his cap by the tassel, 
 and twisting it off his head, "that won't do ! — downright impeach- 
 ment of one's integrity. Oh, by Jingo ! that won't do ! " motion- 
 ing as if he was going to bounce out of bed ; " can't stand that — 
 impeach one's integrity, you know, better take one's life, you knou-. 
 Life without honour's nothin', you know. Cock pheasant at Wey- 
 bridge, six o'clock i' the mornin' ! " 
 
 "Oh, I assure you, I didn't mean anything of that sort,"
 
 280 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 exclairacd Mr. Pacey, frightened at Jack's voliemence, and the way 
 in which he now foamed at the month, and flourished his nightcap 
 about. " Oh, I assure you, I didn't mean anything of that soi't," 
 repeated he, "only I thonght p'raps you mightn't recollect all tliat 
 had passed, p'raps ; and if we were to talk mattei'S quietly over, by 
 putting that and that together, we might assist each other 
 and " 
 
 " Oh, by Jove ! " interrupted Jack, dashing his nightcap 
 against the bedpost, "too late I'or anything of that sort, sir — 
 downnglit impeachment of one's integrity, sir — must be settled 
 another way, sir." 
 
 " But, I assure yon, you mistake ! " exclaimed Pacey. 
 
 " Rot your mistakes I " interrupted Jack ; " there's no mistake 
 in the matter. You've rc^larly impeached my integrity — blood of 
 the Spraggons won't stand that. '■ Dealk before Dishonour I ''"''' 
 shouted he, at the top of his voice, flourishing his nightcap over 
 his head, and then dashing it on to the middle of the floor. 
 
 " What's the matter ? — what's the matter ? — what's the 
 matter ? " exclaimed Mr. Sponge, rushing through the connecting 
 door. " What's the matter ? " repeated lie, placing himself between 
 the bed in which Jack still sat upright, squinting his eyes inside 
 out, and where Mr. Pacey stood. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Sponge ! " exclaimed Jack, clasping his raised hands 
 in thankfulness, "I'm so glad you're here! — I'm so thankful 
 you're come ! I've been insulted ! — oA, goodness, how I've been 
 insulted ! " added he, throwing himself back in the bed, as if 
 thoroughly overcome with his feelings. 
 
 " Well, but what's the matter ?— what is it all about ? " asked 
 •Sponge, coolly, having a pretty good guess what it was. 
 
 " Never was so insulted in my life ! " ejaculated Jack, from 
 inider the bedclothes. 
 
 "Well, but what is it ? " icpcatcd Sponge, appealing to Pacey, 
 wlio stood as pale as ashes. 
 
 " Oh ! nothing," replied ho ; " quite a mistake ; Mr. Spraggon 
 misunderstood me alt(\gether." 
 
 " Mistake ! There's no mistake in the matter ! " exclaimed Jack, 
 appearing again on the surface like an otter ; "you gave me the 
 lie as plain as a pikestaff." 
 
 '•''Indeed!^' observed Mr. Sponge, drawing in his breath and 
 raising his eyebrows right u]) into the roof of his head. " Indeed ! " 
 repeated he. 
 
 " No ; nothing of the sort, I assure you," asserted Mr. Pacey. 
 
 " Must have satisfaction ! " exclaimed Jack, again diving under 
 the bedclothes. 
 
 "Well, but let us hear how matters stand," said Mr. Sponge, 
 coolly, as Jack's grizzly head appeared.
 
 3IE. SPONGE'S SFORTING TOUB. 281 
 
 "You'll be my second," growled Jack, from under the bed- 
 clothes. 
 
 " Oh ! second be hanged," retorted Sponge. " You've nothing 
 to fight about ; Mr. Pacey says he didn't mean anything, that you 
 misunderstood him, and what more can a man want ? " 
 
 " Just so," replied Mr. Pacey — "just so. I assure you I never 
 intended the slightest tniputation on Mr. Spraggon." 
 
 " Pm sure not," replied Mr. Sponge. 
 
 " H-u-m-f-li" grunted Jack from under tiie bedclothes, like a 
 pig in the straw. Not showing any disposition to appear on the 
 surface again, Mr. Sponge, after standing a second or two, gave a 
 jerk of his head to Mr. Pacey, and forthwith conducted him 
 into his own room, shutting the door between Mr. Spraggon and 
 him. 
 
 Mr. Sponge then inquired into the matter, kindly sympathising 
 with Mr. Pacey, who he was certain never meanc anything dis- 
 ]-espectful to Mr. Spraggon, Avho, Mr. Sponge thought, seemed 
 I'ather quick at taking otience ; though, doubtless, as Mr. Sponge 
 observed, " a man was perfectly right in being tenacious of 
 his integrity," a position that he illustrated by a familiar 
 ])assage Ironi Shakespeare, about stealing a purse and stealing 
 trash, &c. 
 
 Emboldened by his kindness, Mr. Pacey then get Mr. Sponge on 
 to talk about the horse of which he had become the unwilling 
 possessor — the renowned chestnut, Multuni in Parvo. 
 
 Mr. Sponge spoke like a very prudent, conscientious man ; said 
 that really it was difficult to give an opinion about a horse ; that 
 what suited one man might not suit another — that he considered 
 jMultura in Parvo a very good horse ; indeed, that he wouldn't 
 have parted with him if he hadn't more than he wanted, and the 
 cream of the season had passed without his meeting with any of 
 those casualties that rendered the retention of an extra horse or two 
 desirable. Altogether, he gave Mr. Pacey to understand that ho 
 held him to his bargain. Having thanked Mr. Sponge for his 
 great kindness, and got an order on the groom (Mr. Leather) to 
 have the horse out, Mr. Pacey took his dejjarture to the stable, and 
 Sponge having summoned his neighbour Mr. Spraggon from his 
 bed, the two proceeded to a passage window that commanded a 
 view of the stable-yard. 
 
 Mr. Pacey presently went swaggering across it, cracking his 
 jockey whip against his leg, followed by Mr. Leather, with a saddle 
 on his shoulder and a bridle in his hand. 
 
 " He'd better keep his whip quiet," observed Mr. Sponge, with a 
 shake of his head, as he watched Pacey's movements. 
 
 " The beggar thinks he can ride anything," observed Jack. 
 
 " He'll find his mistake out just noAV," replied Sponge.
 
 282 ME. SPONGE'S SPOUTING TOUR. 
 
 Presently the stable-door opened, and the horse steppod slowly 
 and quietly out, looking blooming and bright after his previous 
 day's gallop. Pacey running his eyes over his clean muscular 
 legs and finely-shaped form, thought he hadn't done so far amiss 
 after all. Leather stood at the horse's head whistling and sooth- 
 ing him, feeling anything but the easy confidence that Mr. Pacey 
 exhibited. Putting his whip under his arm, Pacey just walked up 
 to the horse, and, placing the point of his foot in the stirrup, 
 hoisted himself on by the mane, without deigning to take hold of 
 reins. Having soused himself into the saddle he then began 
 feeling the stirrups. 
 
 *' How arc they for length, sir ? " asked Leather with a hitch of 
 his hand to his forehead. 
 
 " They'll do," replied Pacey, in a tone of indifference, gathering 
 up the reins, and applying his left heel to the horse's side, while 
 he gave him a touch of the whip on the other. The horse gave a 
 uince, and a hitch up behind ; as much as to say, " If you do 
 that again Til kick in right earnest," and then walked quietly out 
 of the yard. 
 
 '•I took the fiery edge ofi" him yesterday, I think," observed 
 Jack, as he watched the horse's leisurely movements. 
 
 " Not so sure of that," replied Sponge adding, as he left the 
 passage-window, " he'll be trying him in the park ; let's go and 
 see him from my window." 
 
 Accordingly, our friends placed themselves at Sponge's bed-room 
 window, and presently the clash of a gate announced that Sponge 
 was right in his speculation. In another second the horse and 
 rider appeared in sight, — the horse going much at his ease, but Mr. 
 Pacey preparing himself for action. He began working the bridle 
 and kicking his sides, to get him into a canter ; an exertion that 
 produced quite a contrary etfect, for the animal slackened his pace 
 as Pacey 's efi'orts increased. When, however, he took his whip 
 from under his arm, the horse darted right up into the air, and 
 plunging down again, with one convulsive etlbrt shot Mr. Pacey 
 several yards over his head, knocking his head clean through his 
 hat. The brute then began to graze, as if nothing particular had 
 happened. This easy indifference, however, did not extend to the 
 neighbourhood ; for no sooner was Mr. Pacey floored than there 
 was such a rush of grooms, and helpers, and footmen, and 
 gardeners, — to say nothmg of women, — from all parts of the 
 grounds, as must have made it very agreeable to him to know how 
 he had been watched. One picked him up, — another his hat-crown, 
 — a third his whip, — a fourth his gloves, — while Margaret, the 
 housemaid, rushed to the rescue with her private bottle of sal 
 volatile, — and John, the under-butler, began to extricate him from 
 the new-fashioned neckcloth he had made of his hat.
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUR. 2S3 
 
 Though onr friend was a. good deal shaken by the fall, tlie 
 injury to his body was trifling compared to that done to his mind. 
 Being kicked off a horse was an indignity he had never calculated 
 upon. ]\Ioreover, it was done in such a masterly manner as clearly 
 showed it could be repeated at pleasure. In addition to which 
 everybody laughs at a man that is kicked off. All these considera- 
 tions ruslied to his mind, and made him determine not to brook 
 the mirth of the guests as well as the servants. 
 
 Accordingly he borrowed a hat and started off" home, and seeking 
 his guardian, Major Screw, confided to him the position of affairs. 
 The major, who was a man of the world, forthwith commenced a 
 negotiation with Mr. Sponge, who, after a good deal of haggling, 
 and not until the horse had shot the major over his head, too, at 
 length, as a great favour, consented to take fifty pounds to rescind 
 the bargain, accompanying his kindness by telling the major to 
 idvise his ward never to dabble in horseflesh after dinner ; a piece of 
 advice that Ave also very respectfully tender to our juvenile readers. 
 
 And Sponge shortly after sent Spraggon a five pound note as his 
 share of the transaction. 
 
 When Mr. Pnffington read Messrs. Sponge and Spraggon's 
 account of the run with his hounds, in the Swillingford paper, he 
 ivas perfectly horrified ; words cannot describe the disgust that he 
 felt. It came upon him quite by surprise, for he expected to be 
 immortalised in some paper or work of general circulation, in 
 which the Lords Loosefish, Sir Toms, and Sir Harrys of former 
 days might recognise the spirited doings of their early i'riend. He 
 wanted the superiority of his establishment, the excellence of his 
 horses, the stoutness of his hounds, and the poHsh of his field, 
 proclaimed, with perhaps a quiet cut at the Flat-Hat gentry ; 
 instead of which he had a mixed medley sort of a mess, whose 
 humdrum monotony was only relieved by the absurdities and errors 
 with which it was crammed. At first, Mr. Puffington could not make 
 out what it meant, whether it Avas a hoax for the purpose of turn- 
 ing run-Avriting into ridicule, or it had suffered mutilation at the 
 hands of the printer. Calling a good scent an exquisite perfume 
 looked suspicious of a hoax, but then seasonal fox for seasoned fox, 
 scorning to cry for scoring to cry, bay fox for bag fox, grunting 
 for hunting, thrashing for trashing, rests for casts, and other 
 absurdities, looked more like accident than design. 
 
 These are the sort of errors that non-sporting compositors might 
 easily make, one term being as much like English to them as the 
 other, though amazingly different to the eye or the ear of a sports- 
 man. Mr. Puffington was thoroughly disgusted. He Avas sick of 
 hounds and horses, and Bragg, and hay and corn, and kennels and 
 meal, and saddles and bridles ; and now, this absurdity seemed to 
 cap the Avhole thing. He AA'as ill-prepared for such a shock. The
 
 284 ME. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 exertion of successive dinner-giving — above all, of bachelor diancr- 
 giving — and that too in the country,Avhere men sit, talk, talk, talking, 
 sip, sip, sipping, and "just another bottle-ing " ; more, we believe, 
 from "Want of some thing else to do than from any natural inclina- 
 tion to exceed ; the exertion, we say, of such parties had completely 
 unstrung our fat friend, and ill-prepared his nerves for such a 
 shock. Being a great man for his little comforts, he always 
 breakfasted in his dressing-room, which he had fitted up in the 
 most luxurious style, and where he had his newspapers (most 
 carefully ironed out) laid with his letters against he came in. It 
 Avas late on the morning following our last chapter, ere he thought 
 he had got rid of as much of his winy headache as fitful sleep 
 would carry off, and enveloped himself in a blue and yellow-flowered 
 silk dressing-gown and Turkish slippers. He looked at his letters, 
 and knowing their outsides, left them for future perusal ; and 
 sousing himself into the depths of a many-cushioned easy chair, 
 proceeded to spell his Morovinq Post — TattersalFs advertisements 
 — "Grosjean's Paletots "—" Mr. Albert Smith "—" Coals, best 
 Stewart Hetton or Lambton's " — " Police intelligence " and such 
 other light reading as does not require any great effort to connect 
 or comprehend. 
 
 Then came his breakf^ist, for which he had very little appetite, 
 though he relished his coffee, and also an anchovy. While dandling 
 over these, he heard sundry wheels grinding about below the 
 window, and the bumping and thumping of boxes, indicative of 
 " goings away," for which he couldn't say he felt sorry. He 
 couldn't even be at the trouble of getting up and going to the 
 window to see who it was that was off, so weary and head-achy 
 was he. lie rolled and lolled in his chair, now taking a sip of 
 colfee, now a bite of anchovy toast, now considering whether he 
 durst venture on an egg, and again having recourse to the Post. 
 At last having exhausted all the light reading in it, and scanned 
 through the list of hunting appointments, he took up the Swilling- 
 ford paper to see that they had got his "meets" right for the next 
 week. How astonished he was to find the previous day's run 
 staring him in the face, headed "Splendid PtUN with Mr. 
 Puffington's Hounds," in the imposing type here displayed. 
 " Well, that's quick work, however," said he, casting his eyes up 
 to the ceiling in astonishment, and thinking how unlike it was the 
 Swillingford papers, which were always a Aveck, but generally a 
 fortnight behindhand with information. "Splendid run with Mr. 
 Puffington's hounds," read he again, wondering who had done it : 
 — Bardolph, the innkeeper ; Allsop, the cabinet-maker ; Tuggins, 
 the doctor, were all out ; so was Weatherhog, the butcher. Which 
 of them could it be ; Grimes, the editor, wasn't there ; indeed, he 
 couldn't ride, and the country was not adapted for a gig.
 
 MR. SrONGE'S SFOETING TOUR. 2S5 
 
 He then began to read it, and the farther he got tlie more ho 
 was disgusted. At last, when he came to the " seasonal fox, which 
 some thought was a bay one," his indignation knew no bounds, 
 and crumpling the paper up in a heap he threw it from him in disgust. 
 Just then in came Plummey, the butler, Plummey saw at a glance 
 what had happened ; for Mr, Bragg, and the Avhips, and the 
 grooms, and the helpers, and the leeder — the whole hunting 
 establishment — were up in arms at the burlesque, and vowing 
 vengeance against the author of it. Mr. Spraggon, on seeing what 
 a mess had been made of his labours, availed himself of the offer of 
 a seat in Captain Guano's dog-cart, and was clear of the premises ; 
 v/hile Mr. Sponge determined to profit by Spraggon's absence, and 
 lay the blame on him, 
 
 "Oh, Plummey!" exclaimed Mr. PnfTington, as his servant 
 entered, " I'm deuced unwell — quite knocked up, in short," 
 clapping his hand on his forehead ; adding, "I shall not be able to 
 dine down-stairs to-day." 
 
 " 'Deed, sir," replied Mr. Plummey, in a tone of commiseration— 
 " 'deed, sir ; sorry to hear that, sir." 
 
 " Are they all gone ? " asked Mr. Puffington, dropping his boiled 
 gooseberry-looking eyes upon the fine-flowered carpet. 
 
 " All gone, sir— all gone," replied Mr, Plummey ; " all except 
 ^Ir. Sponge." 
 
 " Oh, he's still here ! " replied Mr. Puffington, shuddering Avith 
 disgust at the recollection of the newspaper run. "Is he going to- 
 day ? " asked he. 
 
 " N"o, sir — I dare say not, sir," replied Mr, Plummey. " His man 
 — his groom — his — whatever he calls him, exjiects they'll bo 
 staying some time." 
 
 " The deuce ! " exclaimed Mr. Puffington, whose hospitality, like 
 Jawleyford's was greater in imagination than in reality. 
 
 " Shall I take tliese things away ? " asked Plummey, after a 
 pause. 
 
 " Couldn't you manage to get him to go ?" asked Mr. Puffington, 
 still harping on his remaining guest. 
 
 " Don't know, sir. I could try, sir — believe he's bad to move, 
 sir," replied Plummey, Avith a grin. 
 
 " Is he really ? " replied Mr. Puffington, alarmed lest Sponge 
 should fasten himself upon him for good. 
 
 " They say so," replied Mr. Plummey, " but I don't speak from 
 any personal knowledge, for I know nothing of the man." 
 
 "Well," said Mr, Puifington, amused at his servant's exclusive- 
 iiess, "I wish you would try to get rid of him, bow him out civilly^ 
 vou knoAV — say I'm unwell — very unwell — deuced unwell — ordered 
 10 keep quiet— say it as if from yourself, you know — it mustn't, 
 appear as if it came from mc, you know."
 
 2SG ZIE. SPONGi:'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 " In course not," replied Mr. Plummcj, " in course not ; " addinj^, 
 " I'll do my best, sir — I'll do my best." So saying, he took up the 
 breakfast things and departed. 
 
 Mr. Sponge regaling himself with a cigar in the stables and 
 shrubberies, it was some time before Mr. Plummcy had an oppor- 
 tunity of trying his diplomacy upon him, it being contrary to Mr. 
 Phimmoy's custom to go out of doors after any one. At last he 
 saw Sponge coming lounging along the terrace- walk, looking like a 
 man thoroughly disengaged, and timing himself jiroperly, en- 
 countered him in the entrance. 
 
 " Beg pardon, sir," said Mr. Plummey, " but cook, sir, wishes to 
 know, sir, if you dine here to-day, sir ? " 
 
 "Of course," replied Mr. Sponge, "where would you have me 
 dine?" 
 
 " Oh, I didn't know, sir — only Mr. Puffington, sir, is very poorly, 
 sir, and I thought p'raps you'd be dining out." 
 
 "Poorly is he?" replied Mr. Sponge; "sorry to hear that — 
 what's the matter with him ? " 
 
 " Bad bihous attack, I think," replied Plummey — "very 
 subject them, at this time of year particklarly ; was laid up, 
 at least confined to his room, three weeks last year of a similar 
 attack." 
 
 " Indeed ! " replied Mr. Sponge, not relishing the information. 
 
 " Then I must say you'll dine here ? " said the butler. 
 
 " Yes ; I must have my dinner, of course," replied Mr, Sponge. 
 " I'm not ill, you know ; no occasion to make a great spread for 
 mo, you know ; but still I must have some victuals, you know." 
 
 " Certainly, sir certainly," replied Mr. Plummey. 
 
 " I couldn't think of leaving Mr. Puffington when he's poorly," 
 observed Mr. Sponge, half to himself and half to the butler. 
 
 " Oh, master — that's to say, Mr. Puffington always does best 
 Avhen left alone," observed Mr. Plummcy, catching at the sentence : 
 " indeed the medical men recommend perfect quiet and moderate 
 living as tlie best thing." 
 
 "Do they," replied Sponge, taking out another cigar. Mr. 
 Plummey then withdrew, and presently went up-stairs to report 
 progress, or rather want of progress, to the gentleman whom he 
 sometimes condescended to call " master." 
 
 Mr. Puffington had been taking another spell at the paper, and 
 we need hardly say, that the more he read of the run the less he 
 liked it. 
 
 " Ah, that's Mr. Sponge's handiwork," observed Plummey, as 
 with a sneer of disgust Mr. Puffington threw the paper from him 
 as Plummey entered the room. 
 
 " How do you know ? " asked Mr. Puffington. 
 
 "Saw it, sir — saw it in the letter-bag going to the post.'*
 
 ME. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUE. 287 
 
 " Indeed ! " replied Mr. PufRnji^ton. 
 
 " Mr. Spraggon and he did it alter they came in from hunting." 
 
 " I thought as much," replied Mr. Puffiugton, in disgust. 
 
 Mr. Plummey then related how unsuccessful had b^en his 
 attempts to get rid of the now most unwelcome guest. Mr. 
 Puffington listened with attention, determined to get rid of him 
 somehow or other. Plummey was instructed to ply Sponge well 
 with hints, all of which, however, Mr. Sponge skilfully parried. 
 So, at last, Mr. Puffington scrawled a miserable looking note, 
 explaining how very ill he was, how he regretted being deprived of 
 Mr. Sponge's agreeable society, but hoping that it would suit Mr. 
 Sponge to return as soon as he was better and pay the remainder 
 of his visit — a pretty intehiglble notice to quit, and one which 
 even the cool Mr. Sponge was rather at a loss how to parry. 
 
 He did not like the aspect of affairs. In addition to having to 
 spend the evening by himself, the cook sent him a very moderate 
 dinner, smoked soup, sodden fish, scraggy cutlets, and sour pud- 
 ding. Mr. Plummey, too, seemed to have put all the company 
 bottle-ends together for him. This would not do. If Sponge 
 could have satisfied himself that his host would not be better in a 
 day or two, he would have thought seriously of leaving ; but as he 
 could not bring himself to think that he would not, and, moreover, 
 had no place to go to, had it not been for the concluding portion 
 of Mr. Puffington's note, he would have made an effort to stay. 
 That, however, put it rather out of his power, especially as it was 
 done so politely, and hinted at a renewal of the visit. Mr. Sponge 
 spent the evening in cogitating what he should do — thinking 
 Avhat sportmen had held out the hand of good-fellowship, and 
 hinted at hoping to have the pleasure of seeing him. Fyle, 
 Fossick, Blossomnose, Capon, Dribble, Hook, and others, were all 
 run through his mind, without his thinking it prudent to attempt 
 to fix a volunteer visit upon any of them. Many people he knew 
 could pen polite excuses, who yet could not hit them oft" at the 
 moment, especially in that great arena of hospitality — the hunting- 
 field. He went to bed very much perplexed.
 
 288 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUH. 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 WANTED — A RICH GOD-PAPA ! 
 
 THE JOGGLEBUEYS AT HOME. 
 
 "When one door shuts another opens," say the saucy servants ; 
 and fortune was equally favourable to our friend Mr. Sponge. 
 Tliough he could not think of any one to whom he could volunteer 
 a visit, Dame Fortune provided him with an overture from a party 
 who wanted him ! But we will introduce his new host, or rather 
 victim. 
 
 People hunt from various motives — some for the love of the
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 289 
 
 thing — some for shoT;\' — some for fashion — some for licalth — some 
 for appetites — some for coffee-housing — some to say they have 
 hunted — some because others hunt. 
 
 Mr. Jogglebury Crowdey did not hunt from any of these motives, 
 and it would puzzle a conjurer to make out why he hunted ; indeed, 
 the members of the different hunts lie patronised — for he was one 
 of the round-about, non-subscribing sort — were long in finding 
 out. It was observed that he generally affected countries abound- 
 ing in large woods, such as Stretchaway Forest, Hazelbury Chase, 
 and Oakington Banks, into which he would dive with the greatest 
 avidity. At first people thought he was a very keen hand, anxious 
 to see a fox handsomely found, if he could not see him handsomely 
 finished, against which latter luxury his figure and activity, or want 
 of activity, were somewhat opposed. Indeed, when we say that he 
 went by the name of the Woolpack, our readei'S will be able to ima- 
 gine the style of man he was : long-headed, short-necked, large- 
 girthed, dumpliug-legged little fellow, who, like most fat men, made 
 himself dangerous by compressing a most unreasonable stomach into 
 a circumscribed coat, each particular button of which looked as if 
 it was ready to burst off, and knock out the eye of any one who 
 might have the temerity to ride alongside of him. He was a puffy, 
 Avheezy, sententious little fellow, who accompanied his parables with 
 a snort into a large finely -plaited shirt-frill, reaching nearly up to 
 his nose. His hunting-costume consisted of a black coat and 
 waistcoat, with white moleskin breeches, much cracked and darned 
 about the knees and other parts, as nether garments made of that 
 treacherous stuff often are. His shapeless tops, made regard- 
 less of the refinements of "right and lefc," dangled at his horse's 
 sides like a couple of stable-buckets ; and he carried his heavy iron 
 hammer-headed whip over his shoulder like a flail. But we are 
 drawing his portrait instead of saying why he hunted. Well, then, 
 having married Mrs. Si^ringwheat's sister, who was always boasting 
 to Mrs. Crowdey what a loving, doating husband Springey was 
 after hunting, Mrs. Crowdey had induced Crowdey to try his hand, 
 and though soon satisfied that he hadn't the slightest taste for the 
 sport, but being a great man for what he called gibbey-sticks, he 
 hunted for the purpose of finding them. As we said before, 
 he generally appeared at large woodlands, into which he would 
 ride with the hounds, plunging through the stiffest clay, and forc- 
 ing his way through the strongest thickets, making observations all 
 the while of the hazels, and the hollies, and the blackthorns, and, 
 we are sorry to say, sometimes of the young oaks and ashes, that 
 he thought would fashion into curious-handled walking-sticks ; 
 and these he would return for at a future day, getting them with 
 as large clubs as possible, which he would cut into the heads of 
 beasts or birds, or fishes, or men. At the time of which we are
 
 290 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 writing, lie had accumulated a vast quantity — thousands ; the 
 garret at the top of his house was quite full, so were most of the 
 closets, while the rafters in the kitchen, and cellars, and out- 
 houses, were crowded with others in a state of deshahilh. He 
 calculated his stock at immense worth, we don't know how many- 
 thousand pounds ; and as he cue, and pufl'ed, and wheezed, and 
 modelled, with a volume of Buffon, or the picture of some emi- 
 nent man before him, he chuckled, and thought how well he was 
 providing for his family. He had been at it so long, and argued so 
 stoutly, that Mrs. Jogglebury Crowdey, if not quite convinced of 
 the accuracy of his calculations, nevertheless thought it well to 
 encourage his hunting predilections, inasmuch as it brought him in 
 contact with people he would not otherwise meet, who, she thought, 
 might possibly be useful to their children. Accordingly, she got 
 him his breakfast betimes on hunting-mornings, charged his 
 pockets with currant-buns, and saw to the mending of his mole- 
 skins when he came home, after any of those casualties that occur 
 as well in the chase as in gibbey-stick hunting. 
 
 A stranger being a marked man in a rural country, Mr. Sponge 
 excited more curiosity in Mr. Jogglebury Crowdey'smind than Mr. 
 Jogglebury Crowdey did in Mr. Sponge's. In truth, Jogglebury 
 was one of those unsportsmanlike beings, that a regular fox-hunter 
 would think it waste of words to inquire about, and if Mr. Sponge 
 saw him, he did not recollect him ; while, on the other hand, Mr. 
 Jogglebury Crowdey went home very full of our friend. Now, 
 Mrs. Jogglebury Crowdey was a fine, bustling, managing woman, 
 ■with a large family, for whom she exerted all her energies to pro- 
 cure desirable god-papas and mammas ; and, no sooner did she 
 hear of this new-comer, than she longed to appropriate him for 
 god-papa to their youngest son. 
 
 " Jog, my dear," said she, to her spouse, as they sat at tea ; " it 
 would be well to look after him." 
 
 "What for, my dear ?" asked Jog, who was staring a stick, with a 
 half-finished head of LordBrougham forahandle, out of countenance. 
 
 " What for, Jog ? Why, can't; you guess ? " 
 
 " No," replied Jog, doggedly. 
 
 " No ! " ejaculated his spouse. " A^Hiy, Jog, you certainly arc 
 the stupidest man in existence." 
 
 "Not necessarily ! " replied Jog, with a jerk of his head and a 
 puff into his shirt-frill that set it all in a flutter. 
 
 " Not necessarily ! " replied Mrs. Jogglebury, who was what 
 they call a " spirited woman," in the same rising tone as before. 
 " Not necessarily ! but I say necessarily — yes, necessarily. Do you 
 hear me, Mr. Jogglebury ? " 
 
 " I hear you," replied Jogglebury, scornfully, with another jerk, 
 and another puff into the frill.
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUP. 291 
 
 The two then sat silent for some minutes, Jotiglebuiy still con- 
 templating the progressing head of Lord Brougham, and recalling 
 the eye and features that some five-iind-twenty years before had 
 nearly withered him in a breach of promise action, " Smiler v. Jog- 
 glebury,"* that being our friend's name before his uncle Crowdey 
 left him his property. 
 
 Mrs. Jogglebury having an object in view, and knowing that, 
 though Jogglebury might lead, he ■would not drive, availed her- 
 self of the lull to trim her sail, to try and catch him on the other 
 tack. 
 
 " Well, Mr. Jogglebury Crowdey," said she, in a passive tone of 
 regret, " I certainly thought, however indifferent you might be to 
 me " (and here she applied her handkerchief — ^rather a coarse one — 
 to her eyes) " that still you had some regard for the interests of 
 your (sob) children ; " and here the waterfalls of her beadey black 
 eyes went off in a gush. 
 
 " Well, my dear," replied Jogglebury, softened, " I'm (puff) sure 
 I'm (wheeze) anxious for my (puff) children. You don't s'pose if 
 I wasn't (puff), I'd (wheeze) labour as I (puff — wheeze) do to 
 leave them fortius ? " — alluding to his exertions in the gibbey-stick 
 line. 
 
 " Oh, Jog, I dare say you're very good, and very industrious," 
 sobbed Mrs. Jogglebury, " but I sometimes (sob) think that you 
 might apply your (sob) energies to a better (sob) purpose." 
 
 " Indeed, my dear (puff"), I don't see that (wheeze)," replied 
 Jogglebury, mildly. 
 
 " Why, now, if you were to try and get this rich Mr. Sponge 
 for a god-papa for Gustavus James," continued she, drying her 
 eyes as she came to the point, " ihat, 1 should say, would be worthy 
 of you." 
 
 " But, my (puff) dear," replied Jogglebury, " I don't know J\lr. 
 (wheeze) Sponge, to begin with." 
 
 "That's nothing," replied Mrs. Jogglebury ; "he's a stranger, 
 and you should call upon him." 
 
 Mr. Jogglebury sat silent, still staring at Lord Brougham, 
 thinking how he pitched into him, and how sick he was when the 
 jury, without retiring from the box, gave five hundred pounds 
 damages against him. 
 
 *' He's a fox-hunter, too," continued his wife ; " and you ought 
 to be civil to him." 
 
 " Well, but my (puff) dear, he's as likely to (wheeze) these fifty 
 years as any (puff, wheeze) man I ever looked at," replied 
 Jogglebury. 
 
 " Oh, nonsense," replied Mrs. Jogglebury ; " there's no saying 
 
 * Vide " Barnwell and Aldcrson's Kcports." 
 
 V 2
 
 292 MB. SPONGE'S SFOETING TOTJU. 
 
 when a fox-limiter may break his neck. My word ! but Mrs. 
 Slooman tells me pretty stories of Sloo's doings with the harriers — 
 jumping over hurdles, and everything that comes in the way, and 
 galloping along the stony lanes as if the wind was a snail compared 
 to his horse. I tell you, Jog, you should call on this gentle- 
 man " 
 
 " Well," replied Mr. Jogglebury. 
 
 " And ask him to come and stay here," continued Mrs. Joggle- 
 bury. 
 
 " Perhaps he mightn't like it (puff;," replied Jogglebury. " I 
 don't know that we could (puff) entertain him as he's (Avheeze) 
 accustomed to be," added he. 
 
 " Oh, nonsense," replied Mrs. Jogglebury ; " we can entertain him 
 well enough. You always say fox-hunters are not ceremonious. I 
 tell you what, Jog, you don't think half enough of yourself. You 
 are far two easily set aside. My word ! but I know some people 
 who would give themselves pretty airs if their husband was chair- 
 man of a board of guardians, and trustee of I don't know how 
 many of Her Majesty's turnpike-roads," Mrs. Jog here thinking of 
 her sister Mrs. Springwheat, who, she used to say, had married a 
 mere farmer. " I tell you. Jog, you're far too humble, you don't 
 think half enough of yourself." 
 
 " Well, but, my (puff) dear, you don't (puff) consider that all 
 people ain't (puff; fond of (wheeze) children," observed Jogglebury, 
 after a pause. " Indeed, I've (puff') observed that some (wheeze) 
 don't like them." 
 
 *' Oh, but those will be nasty little brats, like Mrs. James 
 Wakeushaw's, or IMrs. Tom Cheek's. But such children as ours I 
 such charmers ! such delights ! there isn't a man in the county,, 
 from the Lord-Lieutenant downwards, who wouldn't be proud — 
 who wouldn't think it a comj)liment — to be asked to be god-papa 
 to such children. I teU you what, Mr. Jogglebury Crowdey, it 
 would be far better to get them rich god-papas and god-mammas 
 than to leave them a whole house full of sticks." 
 
 "Well, but, my (puff) dear, the (wheeze) sticks will prove very 
 (wheeze) hereafter," replied Jogglebury, bridling ujj at the impu- 
 tation on his hobby. 
 
 " I hope so," replied Mrs. Jogglebury, in a tone of incredulity. 
 
 " Well, but, my (puff") dear, I (wheeze) you that they will be — 
 indeed (puff"), I may (wheeze) say that they (puff) are. It was 
 only the other (puff) day that (wheeze) Patrick O'Fogo offered me 
 five-and-twenty (wheeze) shillings for my (puff) blackthorn Daniel 
 O'Connell, which is by no means so (puff') good as the (wheeze) 
 wild-cherry one, or, indeed, (puff) as the yew-tree one that I 
 (wheeze) out of Spankerley Park." 
 
 " I'd have taken it if I'd been you," observed Mrs. Jogglebury.
 
 ME. SFONGi:'S SPORTING TOUR. 293 
 
 " But he's (puff) worth far more," retorted Jog:,2;lcbnry, angrily ; 
 *' why (wheeze) Liiniplcg offered me as much for Disraeh." 
 
 " Well, I'd have taken it, too," rejoined Mrs. Jogglebury. 
 
 " But I should have (wheeze) spoilt ray (puff") set," replied the 
 gibbey-stick man. " S'pose any (wheeze) body was to (puff') offer 
 me five guineas a (puff) piece for the (puff) pick of my (pulF) 
 collection — my (puff) AVcllingtons, my (wheeze) Napoleons, my 
 (puff') Byrous, my (wheeze) Walter Scotts, my (puff) Lord Johns, 
 d'ye think I'd take it ? " 
 
 " I should hope so," replied Mrs. Jogglebury. 
 
 " I should (puff) do no such thing," snorted her husband into 
 Ins frill. " I should hope," continued he, speaking slowly and 
 solemnly, '• that a (puff) wise ministry will purchase the whole (puff) 
 collection for a (wheeze) grateful nation, when the (wheeze) " 
 something " is no more (wheeze)." The concluding words being 
 lost in the emotion of the speaker (as the reporters say). 
 
 '•' Well, but will you go and call on Mr. Sponge, dear? " asked 
 Mrs. Jogglebury Crowdey, anxious as well to turn the subject as 
 to make good her original point. 
 
 "Well, my dear, I've no objection," replied Joggle, wiping a 
 tear from the corner of his eye with his coat-cuff. 
 
 " That's a good soul ! " exclaimed Mrs. Jogglebury, soothingly. 
 " Go to-morrow, like a nice, sensible man." 
 
 " Very well," replied her now complacent spouse. 
 
 " And ask him to come here," continued she. 
 
 " I can't (puff") ask him to (puff) come, my dear (wheeze), until 
 he (puff" — wheeze) returns my (puff') call." 
 
 " fiddle," replied his wife, " you always say fox-hunters never 
 stand upon ceremony ; why should you stand upon any with 
 iiini?" 
 
 Mr, Jogglebury was posed, and sat silent.
 
 294 
 
 ME. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 THE DISCOMFITED DIPLOMATIST. 
 
 JOGGLEBURY S RETURN. 
 
 Well, then, as we said before, "when one door shuts another 
 opens ; and just as Mr. Puffington's door was closing on poor Mr. 
 Sponge, who should cast up but our newly-introduced friend, Mr. 
 Jogglebury Crowdey. Mr. Sponge was sitting in solitary state, in 
 the fine drawing-room, studying his old friend Mogg, calculating 
 what he could ride from Spur-street, ]jcicester-square, by Short's- 
 gardens, and across Waterloo-bridge, to the Elephant and Castle 
 for, when the grinding of a vehicle on the gravelled ring attracted 
 his attention. Looking out of the window, he saw a horse's 
 head in a faded-red silk-fronted bridle, with the letters " J. C." on 
 the winkers ; not J. C. writhing in the elegant contortions of 
 modern science, but " J. C." in the good, plain, matter-of-fact 
 characters we have depicted above. 
 
 "That'll be the doctor," said Mr. Sponge to himself, as he 
 resumed his reading and calculations, amidst a peal of the door-
 
 MH. SPONGE'S SPOUTING TOUR. 295 
 
 bell, well calculated to arouse the whole house. " He's a good un 
 to ring ! " added he, lookhig up and wondering when the last 
 lingeriug tinkle would cease. 
 
 Before the fact was ascertained, there was a hurried tramp of 
 feet past the drawing-room door, and presently the entrance one 
 opened and let in — a rush of wind. 
 
 " Is J\Ir. Sponge at home ? " demanded a slow, pompous-speaking, 
 deep-toned voice, evidently from the vehicle. 
 
 " Yez-ur," was the immediate answer. 
 
 "iWho can that be ? " exclaimed Sponge, pocketing his Mogg. 
 
 Then there Avas a creaking of springs and a jingling against 
 iron steps, and presently a high-blowing, heavy-stepping body was 
 heard crossing the entrance-hall, while an out-stripping footman 
 announced J\Ir. Jogglebury Crowdey, leaving the owner to follow 
 his name at his leisure. 
 
 ]\Ir3. Jogglebury had insisted on Jog putting on his new black 
 frock — a very long coat, fitting like a sack, with the well-filled 
 pockets bagging behind, like a poor man's dinner-wallet. In lieu 
 of the shrunk and darned white moleskins, receding in apparent 
 disgust from the dingy tops, he had got his nether man enveloped 
 in a pair of fine cinnamon-coloured tweeds, with broad blue stripes 
 down the sides, and shaped out over the clumsy foot. 
 
 Puff", wheeze, puff, he now came waddling and labouring along, 
 hat in hand, hurrying after the servant ; puff', wheeze, puff, and 
 he found himself in the room. "Your servant, sir," said he, 
 sticking himself out behind, and addressing Mr. Sponge, making 
 a ground sweep with his woolly hat. 
 
 " Yours," said ]\Ir. Sponge, with a similar bow. 
 
 " Fine day (puff' — wheeze)," observed Mr. Jogglebury, blowing 
 into his large frill. 
 
 "It is," replied Mr. Sponge ; adding, "won't you bo seated ? " 
 
 "How's Puffington ? " gasped our visitor, sousing himself upon 
 one of the rosewood chairs in a way that threatened destruction to 
 the slender fabric. 
 
 " Oh, he's pretty middling, / should say," replied Sponge, now 
 making up his mind that he was addressing the doctor. 
 
 "Pretty middlin' (puff)," repeated Jogglebury, blowing into his 
 frill ; " pretty middlin' (wheeze) ; I s'pose that means he's got 
 a (puff') gumboil. My third (wheeze) girl, Margaret Henrietta, 
 has one." 
 
 " Do you want to see him ? " asked Sponge, after a pause, which 
 seemed to indicate that his friend's conversation had come to a 
 period, or full stop. 
 
 " No," rephed Jogglebury, unconcernedly. " No ; I'll leave a 
 (puff) card fur him (wheeze)," added he, fumbling in his wallet 
 behind for his card-case. "My (puff") object is to pay ray
 
 29G 2IR. SPONGU'S SPOBTING TOUR. 
 
 (wheeze) respects to you," observed he, clrawiiig- a great carved 
 Indian case from liis pocket, and pullicg oif the top Avith a noise 
 like the drawing of a cork. 
 
 " Much obh'gcd for the compliment," ol iscrvcd Mr. Sponge, as 
 Joggleburj fumbled and broke his nails in attempting to get a 
 card. out. 
 
 " Do you stay long in this part of the world ? " asked he, as at 
 last he succeeded, and commenced tapping the corners of the card 
 on the tal)le. 
 
 " I really don't know," replied Mr. Sponge, as the particulars of 
 his situation flashed across his mind. Could this pudding-headed 
 man be a chap Puffington had got to come and sound him, thought 
 he. 
 
 Jogglebury sat silent for a time, examining his feet attentively 
 as if to see they were pairs, and scrutinising the bags of his 
 cinnamon-coloured trousers. 
 
 " I was going to say (hem — cough — hem)," at length observed 
 he, looking up, " that's to say, I was thinking (hem — wheeze — 
 cough — hem), or rather I should say, Mrs. Jogglebury Crowdey 
 sent me to say — I mean to say," continued he, stamping one of 
 his ponderous feet against the floor as if to force out his words. 
 " Mrs. Jogglebury Crowdey and I would be glad — happy, that's to 
 say (hem) — if vou would arrange (hem) to (wheeze) pay us a visit 
 <hem)." 
 
 "Most happy, I'm sure I " exclaimed Mr. Sponge, jumping at 
 the offer. 
 
 "Before you go (hem)," continued our visitor, taking up the 
 sentence where Sponge had interrupted him ; " I (hem) live about 
 nine miles (hem) from here (hem)." 
 
 "Arc there any hounds in your neighbourhood ?" asked Mr. 
 Spomre. 
 
 "Oh, yes," replied Mr. Jogglebury, slowly ; "Mr. Puflingt(i)n 
 here draws up to Greatacre Gorse within a few (puff — wheeze) 
 miles — say, three (puff) — of my (wheeze) house ; and Sir Harry 
 Scattercash (puff) hunts all the (puff — wheeze) country below, 
 right away down to the (puff — wheeze) sea." 
 
 " Well, you're a devilish good fellow ! " exclaimed Sponge ; "and 
 I'll tell you Avhat, as I'm sure you mean what you say, I'll take 
 you at your word and go at once ; and that'll give our friend here 
 time to come round." 
 
 " Oh, but (puff — wheeze — gasp)," started Mr. Jogglebury, the 
 blood rushing to his great yellow, whiskerless cheeks, " Vm not 
 quite (gasp) sure that Mrs. (gasp) Jogglebury (pufl") Crowdey 
 would be (pufl' — wheeze — gasp) prepared." 
 
 "Oh, J/anrf preparation ! " interrupted Mr. Sponge. " I'll take 
 yon as you are. Xever mind me. I hate being made company of.
 
 3IB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUE. 
 
 297 
 
 Just treat me like one of yourselves ; toad-in-the-hole, dog-in-the- 
 blanket, beef-steaks and oyster-sauce, rabbits and onions— any- 
 thing ; nothing comes amiss to me." 
 
 So saying, and while Jogglebury sat purple and unable to 
 articulate, Mr. Sponge applied his hand to the ivory bell-knob and 
 
 ME. JOGGLEBURY INTRODUCING HIMSELF TO IIR. SPONGE. 
 
 sounded an imposing peal. ]\Ir. Jogglebury sat wondering what 
 was going to happen, and thinking what a Aviggiug he would get 
 irom Mrs. J. if he didn't manage to shake off" his friend. Above 
 all, he recollected that they had nothing but haddocks aud hashed 
 mutton for dinner, 
 
 " Tell Leather I want him," said Mr. Sponge, in a tone of 
 authority, as the footman answered the summons ; then, turning
 
 298 ME. SPONGE'S SPOETING TOUE. 
 
 to his guest, as the man \Yas leaying the room, he said, " "Won't 
 you take something- after your drive — cold meat, glass of sherry, 
 soda-water, bottled porter — anything in that line ?" 
 
 In an ordinary way, Joggiebury would have said, " if you 
 ])leasc," at the sound of the words "cold meat," for he was a dead 
 liand at luncheon ; but the fix he was in completely took away his 
 appetite, and he sat wheezing and thinking whether to make 
 another effort, or to wait the arrival of Leather. 
 
 Presently Leather appeared, jean-jacketed and gaitered, smooth- 
 ing his hair over his forehead, after the manner of the brother- 
 hood. 
 
 " Leather," said Mr. Sponge, in the same tone of importance, 
 "I'm going to this gentleman's :" for as yet he had not sufficiently 
 mastered the name to be able to venture upon it in the owner's 
 presence. "Leather, I'm going to this gentleman's, and I want 
 you to bring me a horse over in the morning ; or stay," said he, 
 interrupting himself, and, turning to Joggiebury, he exclaimed, 
 " I dare say you could manage to put me up a couple of horses, 
 couldn't you ? and then we should be all cosy and jolly together, 
 you know." 
 
 " Ton my word," gasped Joggiebury, nearly choked by the 
 proposal ; " 'pon my word, I can hardly (puff) say, I hardly 
 (wheeze) know, but if you'll (pufi* — wheeze) allow mo, I'll tell you 
 what I'll do : I'll (puff — wheeze) home, and see what I can (puff) 
 do in the way of entertainment for (puff — wheeze) man as well as 
 for (puff — wheeze) horse." 
 
 " Oh, t/icmic you, my dear fellow ! " exclaimed Sponge, seeing 
 the intended dodge ; " thank you, my dear fellow ! " repeated he ; 
 "but that's giving you too much trouble — far too much trouble ! 
 — couldn't think of such a thing — no, indeed, I couldn't. /'// 
 tell you what we'll do — /'// tell you what we'll do. You shall drive 
 me over in that shandrydan-rattle-trap thing of yours " — Sponge 
 looking out of the window, as he spoke at the queer-shaped, jumped- 
 together, lack-lustre-looking vehicle, with a turnover seat behind, 
 now in charge of a pepper-and-salt attired youth, witli a shabby 
 hat, looped up by a thin silver cord to an acorn on the crown, and 
 baggy Berlin gloves — " and I'll just see what there is in the way 
 of stabling ; and if I think it will do, then I'll give a boy sixpence 
 or a shilling to come over to Leather, here," jerking his head 
 towards his factotum ; " if it won't do, why then •" 
 
 " AVe shall want ihree stalls, sir — recollect, sir," interrupted 
 Leather, who did not wish to move his quarters. 
 
 " True, I forgot," replied Sponge, with a frown at his ser- 
 vant's officiousness ; " however, if we can get two good stalls 
 for the hunters," said he, " we'll manage the hack somehow or 
 other."
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUE. 290 
 
 " "Well," replied Mr. Leather, in a tone of resignation, knowing 
 how hopeless it was arguing with his master. 
 
 " I really think," gasped Mr. Jogglebiuy Crowdey, encouraged 
 by the apparent sympathy of the servant to make a last effort — " I 
 really think," repeated he, as the hashed mutton and haddocks 
 again flashed across his mind, " that my (puff — wheeze) plan is 
 the (puff) best ; let me (puff — wheeze) home and see how all (puff 
 — wheeze) things are, and then I'll write you a (puff — wheeze) 
 line, or send a (puff — wheeze) servant over," 
 
 "Oh, no," replied Mr. Sponge — "oh, no — that's far too much 
 trouble. I'll just go over with you now and reconnoitre." 
 
 " I'm afraid J\Irs. (puff — wheeze) Crowdey will hardly be 
 prepared for (puff— wheeze) visitors," ejaculated our friend, 
 recollecting it was washing-day, and that Mary Ann wcruld be 
 wanted in the laundry. 
 
 " Don't mention it ! " exclaimed Mr. Sponge ; " don't mention 
 it.. I hate to be made company of. Just give me what you have 
 yourselves — just give me what you have yourselves. AYhere two 
 can dine, three can dine, you know." 
 
 Mr. Jogglebury Crowdey was nonplussed. 
 
 " "Well, now," said Mr. Sponge, turning again to Leather ; 
 " just go up-stairs and help mc to pack up my things ; and," 
 addressing himself to our visitor he said, " perhaps you'll amuse 
 yourself with the paper — the Fosf — or I'll lend you my Mogg," 
 continued he, offering the little gilt-lettcrcd, purple-backed volume 
 as he spoke. 
 
 "Thank'ee," replied Mr. Jogglebury, who was still tapping 
 away at the card, which he had now worked very soft. 
 
 Mr. Sponge then left him with the volume in his hand, and 
 proceeded up-stairs to his bed-room. 
 
 In less than twenty minutes, the vehicle was got under way, 
 Mr. Jogglebury Crowdey and Mr. Sponge occupying the roomy 
 seats in front, and Bartholomew Badger, the before-mentioned 
 tiger, and Mr. Sponge's portmanteau and carpet-bag, being in the 
 very diminutive turnover seat behind. The carriage was followed 
 by the straining eyes of sundry Johns and Janes, who unanimously 
 agreed that Mr. Sponge was the meanest, shabbiest gent, they had 
 ever had in ihcir house. Mr. Leather was, therefore, roasted in 
 the servants' hall, where the sins of the masters are oft visited 
 upon the servants. 
 
 But to our travellers. 
 
 Little conversation passed between our friends for the first few 
 miles, for, in addition to the road being rough, the driving-seat 
 was so high, and the other so low, that Mr. Jogglebury Crowdey's 
 parables broke against Mr. Sponge's hat-crown, instead of dropping 
 into his ear ; besides which, the unwilling host's mind was a good
 
 300 MR. SPONGE'S SPOUTING TOUR. 
 
 deal occupied "with wishing that there had hceii three liaddocks 
 instead of two, and speculating- whether Mrs. Crowdey would be 
 more pleased at the success of his mission, or put out of her way 
 by ]\Ir. Sponge's unexpected coming. Above all, he had marked 
 some very promising-looking sticks — two blackthorns and a holly 
 —to cut on his way home, and he was intent on not missing them. 
 So sudden was the jerk that announced his coming on the first 
 one, as nearly to throw the old family Iiorse on his knees, and 
 almost to break Mr. Sponge's nose against the brass edge of the 
 cocked-up splash-board. Ere Mr. Sponge recovered his equi- 
 librium, the whip was in the case, the reins dangling about the 
 old screw's heels, and Mr. Crowdey scrambling up a steep bank to 
 where a very thick boundary-hedge shut out the view of the 
 adjacent country. Presently, chop, chop, chop, was heard, from 
 Mr. Crowdey's pocket axe, with a tug — wheeze — puff from him- 
 self ; next a crash of separation ; and then the purple-faced Mr. 
 Crowdey came bearing clown the bank dragging a great blackthorn 
 bush after him. 
 
 " What have you got there ? " inquired Mr. Sponge, with 
 surprise. 
 
 " Got ! (wheeze — puff — wheeze)," replied Mr. Crowdey, pulling 
 up short, and mopping his perspiring brow with a great claret- 
 coloured bandana. " Got ! I've (puff — wheeze) got what I 
 (wheeze) think will (puff) into a most elaborate and (wheeze) 
 valuable walking-stick. This I (puff) think," continued he, 
 eyeing the great ball with which he had got it up, " will (wheeze) 
 come in most valuably (puff) for my great (puff — wheeze — gasp) 
 national undertaking — the (puff) Kings and (wheeze) Queens of 
 Great Britain (gasp)." 
 
 "What are iheyf'' asked Mr. Sponge, astonished at his 
 vehemence. 
 
 *' Oh ! (puff — wheezj — gasp) haven't you heard ? " exclaimed 
 Mr. Jogglebury, taking off his great woolly hat, and giving his 
 lank, dark hair, streaked with grey, a sweep round his low forehead 
 with the bandana. " Oh ! (puff — gasp) haven't you heard ? " 
 repeated he, getting a little more breath. " I'm (wheeze) under- 
 taking a series of (gasp) sticks, representing — (gasp) — immorlalls- 
 inq, I may say (puff), all the (wheeze) crowned heads of England 
 (puff)." 
 
 " Indeed ! " replied Mr. Sponge. 
 
 "They'll be a most valuable collection (wheeze — puff),"con- 
 Mnued Mr. Jogglebury, still eyeing the knob. " This," added he, 
 " shall be William the Fourth," He then commenced lopping 
 and docking the sides, making Bartholomew Badger bury them in 
 a sand-pit hard by, observing, in a confidential wheeze to Mr. 
 Sponge, " that he had once been county- courted for a similar
 
 3IB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 301 
 
 trespass before." The top and lop being at length disposed of, 
 Mr. Crowdey, grasping the club-end, strnok the other forcibly 
 against the ground, exclaiming, " There ! — there's a (puff) stick! 
 Who knows what that (puff — wheeze) stick may be worth some 
 day ? " 
 
 He then bundled into his carriage and drove on. 
 
 Two more stoppages marked their arrival at the other sticks, 
 which being duly captured and fastened within the straps of the 
 carriagc-aprou, Mr. Growdey drove on somewhat more at case in 
 his mind, at all events somewhat comforted at the thoughts of 
 having increased his wealth. He did not become talkative — 
 indeed that was not his forte, but he puffed into his shirt-frill, and 
 made a few observations, which, if they did not possess mucli 
 origiuality, at all events showed that he was not asleep. 
 
 " Those are draining-tiles," said he, after a hearty stare at a 
 cart-load. Then about five minutes after he blew again, and said, 
 "I don't think (puff) that (wheeze) draining without (gasp) 
 manuring will constitute good farming (puff )." 
 
 So he jolted and wheezed, and jerked and jagged the old 
 quadruped's mouth, occasionally hissing between his teeth, and 
 stamping against the bottom of the carriage, when other per- 
 suasive efforts failed to induce it to keep up the semblance of a 
 trot. At last the ill-supported hobble died out into a walk, and 
 Mr. Crowde}', comiDlacently dropping his fat hand on his fat 
 knees, seemed to resign himself to his fate. 
 
 So they crawled along the up-and-downy piece of road below 
 Poplarton plantations, Mr. Jogglebury keeping a sharp eye upon 
 the underwood for sticks. After passing these, they commenced 
 the gradual ascent of Roundington Hill, when a sudden sweep of 
 the road brought them in view of the panorama of the rich Vale 
 of Butterflower. 
 
 " There's a snug-looking box," observed Sponge, as he at length 
 espied a confused jumble of gable-ends and chimney-pots, rismg 
 from amidst a clump of Scotch firs and other trees, looking less 
 like a farm-house than anything he had seen. 
 
 " That's my house (putt') ; that's Puddingpote Bower (wheeze),"' 
 replied Growdey, slowly and pompously, adding an " e " to the 
 syllable, to make it sound better, the haddocks, hashed mutton, 
 and all the horrors of impromptu hospitality rushing upon his 
 mind. 
 
 Things began to look worse the nearer he got home. He didn't 
 care to aggravate the old animal into a trot. He again wondered 
 whether Mrs. J. would be pleased at the success of his mission, or 
 angry at the unexpected coming. 
 
 " Where are the stables ? " asked Sponge, as he scanned the in- 
 and-out irregularities of the building.
 
 302 ME. SPONGE'S SPOLTING TOUR. 
 
 " Stables (wheeze), stables (puff)," repeated Cro-\vdey, thinking 
 of his troubles— of its being washing-day, and Mary Ann, or Murry 
 Ann, as he called her, the under-butler, being engaged ; of 
 Bartholomew Badger having the horse and fe-a-ton to clean, &c. 
 — " stables," repeated he for the third time ; " stables are at the 
 back, behind, in fact ; you'll see a (puff) vane— a (wheeze) fox, on 
 the top." 
 
 " Ah, indeed ! " replied Mr. Sponge, brightening up, thinking 
 there would be old hay and corn. 
 
 They now came to a half-Swiss, half-Gothic little cottage of a 
 lodge, and the old horse turned instinctively into the open white 
 gate with pea-green bands. 
 
 " Here's Mrs. Crow— Crow— Crowdey ! " gasped Jogglebury, 
 convulsively, as a tall woman, in flare-up red and yellow stunner 
 tartan, with a swarm of little children, similarly attired, suddenly 
 appeared at an angle of the road, the lady handling a great alpaca 
 umbrella-looking parasol in the stand-and-deliver style. 
 
 " What's kept you ? " exclaimed she, as the vehicle got within 
 car-shot. " What's Iccjit you ? " repeated she, in a sharper key, 
 liolding her parasol across the road, but taking no notice of our 
 friend Sponge, who, in truth, she took for Edgebone, the butcher. 
 " Oh ! you've been after your sticks, have you ? " added she, as 
 her spouse drew the vehicle up alongside of her, and she caught 
 the contents of the apron-straps. 
 
 "My dear (puff)" gasped her hnsband, "I've brought Mr. 
 (wheeze) Sponge," said he, winking his right eye, and jerking his 
 head over his left shoulder, looking very frightened all the time. 
 '^ Mr. (puff) Sponge, Mrs. (gasp) Jogglebury (wheeze) Crowdey," 
 continued he, luotioning with his hand. 
 
 Finding himself in the presence of his handsome hostess, Sponge 
 made her one of his best bows, and offered to resign his seat in the 
 carriage to her. This she declined, alleging that she had the 
 children with her — looking round on the grinning, gaping group, 
 the majority of them with their mouths smeared with lollipops. 
 Crowdey, who was not so stupid as he looked, was nettled at 
 Sponge's attempting to fix his wife upon him at such a critical 
 moment, and immediately retaliated with, " P'raps (puff) you'd 
 like to (puff) out and (wheeze) walk." 
 
 There was no help for this, and Sponge having alighted, 
 Mr. Crowdey said, half to Mr. Sponge and half to his fine wife, 
 " Then (puff— wheeze) I'll just (puff) on and get Mr. (wheeze) 
 ♦Sponge's room ready." So saying, he gave the old nag a hearty 
 jerk with the bit, and two or three longitudinal cuts with the 
 knotty-pointed whip, and jingled away with a bevy of children 
 shouting, hanging on, and dragging behind, amidst exclamations 
 from Mrs. Crowdey, of " Anna Maria ! Juliana Jane ! O
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 mi 
 
 Frederick James, you naughty boy ! you'll spoil your new slices ! 
 Archibald John, you'll be kilt ! you'll be run over to a certainty. 
 Jog'glcbury, you inhuman man ! " continued she, running and 
 brandishing her alpaca parasol. "• you'll run over your children ! 
 you'll run over your children ! " 
 
 " My (puft") dear," replied Jogglebury, looking coolly over his 
 shoulder, " how can they be (wheeze) run over behind ? " 
 
 So saying, Jogglebury ground away at his leisure. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 PUDDIXGPOTE BOWER, THK SEAT OE JOGGLEBURY CROWDEY, ESQ. 
 
 YOUR good 
 husband," ob- 
 served Mr. 
 Sponge as he 
 now overtook 
 his hostess 
 and proceeded 
 with her to- 
 wards the 
 house, " has 
 insisted upon 
 bringing me 
 over to spend 
 a few days till 
 my friend 
 Puffington re- 
 covers. He's 
 just got the 
 gout. I said 
 I was 'fraid 
 it mightn't be 
 quite conve- 
 nient to you, 
 but Mr. Crow- 
 dey assured 
 me you were 
 
 and so I have 
 
 BARTHOLOMEW AND MURRV ANN. 
 
 in the habit of receivin' fox-hunters at short notice 
 taken him at his word you see, and come." 
 
 Mrs. Jogglebury, who was still out of wind from her run after 
 the carriage, assured him that she was extremely happy to see him,
 
 304 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 tliongh she couldn't help thinking what a noodle Jog was to bring 
 a stranger on a washing-day. That, however, was a point she 
 would reserve for Jog. 
 
 Just then a loud outburst from the children announced the 
 approach of the eighth wonder of the world, in the person of 
 Gustavus James in the nurse's arms, with a curly blue feather 
 nodding over his nose. Mrs. Jogglebury's black eyes brightened 
 with delight as she ran forward to meet him ; and in her mind's 
 eye she saw him inheriting a splendid mansion, with a retinue of 
 powdered footmen in jDca-green liveries and broad gold-laced hats. 
 Great — prospectively great, at least — as had been her successes in 
 the sponsor line with her other children, she really thought, getting 
 Mr. Sponge for a god-papa for Gustavus James eclipsed all her 
 other doings. 
 
 Mr. Sponge, having been liberal in his admiration of the other 
 children, of course could not refuse unbounded applause to the 
 evident object of a mother's regards ; and, chucking the young 
 gentleman under his double chin, asked him how he was, and said 
 something about something he had in his " box," alluding to a 
 paper of cheap comfits he had bought at Sugarchalk's, the confec- 
 tioner's sale in Oxford-street, and which he carried about for 
 contingencies like the present. This pleased Mrs. Crowdey — 
 looking, as she thought, as if he had come predetermined to do 
 what she wanted. Amidst praises and stories of the prodigy, they 
 reached the house. 
 
 If a "hall" means a house with an entrance-" hall," Pudding- 
 pote Bower did not aspire to be one. A visitor dived, in. mecUas res, 
 into the passage at once. In it stood an oak-cased family clock, and 
 a large glass-case, with an alarming-looldng, stuffed tiger-like cat, 
 on an imitation marble slab. Underneath the slab, indeed all 
 about the passage, were scattered children's hats and caps, hoops, 
 tops, spades, and mutilated toys, — spotted horses Avithout heads, 
 soldiers without arms, windmills without sails, and wheelbarrows 
 without wheels. In a corner were a bunch of " gibbies " in the 
 rough, and alongside the weather-glass hung Jog's formidable flail 
 of a hunting-whip. 
 
 Mr. Sponge found his portmanteau standing bolt upright in the 
 passage, with the bag alongside of it, just as they had been chucked 
 out of the phaeton by Bartholomew Badger, who having got orders 
 to put the horse right, and then to put himself right to wait at 
 dinner, Mr. Jogglebury proceeded to vociferate, — 
 
 " Muriy Ann ! — Murry Ann ! " in such a way that Mary Ann 
 thought either that the cat had got young Crowdey, or the house 
 was on fire, " Oh ! Murry Ann ! " exclaimed Mr. Jogglebury, as 
 she came darting into the passage from the back settlements, up 
 to the elbows in soap-suds ; " I want you to (puff) up-stairs with
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 305 
 
 me, and help to get my (wheeze) gibbey-sticks out of the best 
 room ; there's a (puff) gentleman coming to (wheeze) here." 
 
 " 0, indeed, sir," replied Mary Ann, smilnig, and dropping down 
 her sleeves — glad to find it was no worse. 
 
 They then proceeded up-stairs together. 
 
 All the gibbey-sticks were bundled out, both the finished oucs, 
 that were varnished and laid away carefully in the wardrobe, and 
 those that were undergoing surgical treatment, in the way of twist- 
 ings,and bendings, and tyings in the closets. As they routed them 
 out of hole and corner, Jogglebury kept up a sort of running re- 
 commendation to mercy, mingled with an inquiry into the state of 
 the household aflairs. 
 
 "Now (puflT), Murry Ann I" exclaimed he ; "take care you 
 don't scratch that (puff) Franky Burdett," handing her a highly- 
 varnished oak stick, with the iiead of Sir Fi'ancis for a handle ; 
 ^' and how many (gasp) haddocks d'ye say there are in the 
 bouse ? " 
 
 " Thi'ee, sir," replied Mary Ann. 
 
 " Three ! " repeated he, with an emphasis. " I thought your 
 (gasp) missus told me there were but (puff) two ; and, Murry Ann, 
 you must put the new (puff") quilt on the (gasp) bed, and (pull") 
 just look under it (gasp) aud you'll find the (puff) old Truro 
 rolled up in a dirty (puff') pocket hankercher ; and, Murry Ann, 
 d'ye think the new (wheeze) purtaters came that I bought of (puff) 
 Billy Bloxom ? If so, you'd better (puff') some for dinner, and get 
 the best (wheeze) decanters out ; and Murry Ann, there are two 
 gibbej^s on the (puff) surbase at the back of the bed, which you 
 may as well (puff) away. Ah ! here he is," added Mr. Jogglebury, 
 as Mr. Sponge's voice rose now from the passage into the room 
 .above. 
 
 Things now looked pretty promising. Mr. Sponge's attentions 
 (to the children generally, and to Gustavus James in particular, 
 ■coupled with his free-and-easy mode of introducing himself, made 
 ]\Irs. Crowdey feel far more at her ease with regard to entertain- 
 ing him than she would have done if her neighbour, Mr. Make- 
 peace, or the Rev, Mr. Facey himself, had dropped in to take 
 " pot luck," as they called it. With either of these she would 
 have wished to appear as if their every-day form was more in 
 accordance with their company style, whereas Jog and she 
 wanted to get something out of Mr. Sponge, instead of electrify- 
 ing him with their grandeur. That GnstavusJames was destined 
 for greatness she had not the least doubt. She began to think 
 whether it might not be advisable to call him Guscavus James 
 Sponge. Jog, too, was comforted, at hearing there were three 
 haddocks, for though hospitably inclined he did not at oil like the 
 idea of being on short commons himself. He had sufficient con-
 
 30G ME. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 fidence in Mrs. Jogglebury's management — especially as the guest 
 was of her own seeking — to know that she would make up a 
 tolerable dinner. 
 
 Nor was he out of his reckoning, for at half-past five Bartholomew 
 announced dinner, when in sailed Mrs. Crowdey fresh from the 
 composition of it and from the becoming revision of her own dress. 
 Instead of the loose, flowing, gipsified, stunner tartan of the morn- 
 ing, she was attired in a close-fitting French grey silk, showing as 
 Avell the fulness and whiteness of her exquisite bust, as the beauti- 
 ful formation of her arms. Her raven hair was ably parted and 
 flattened on either side of her weU-shaped head. Sponge felt proud 
 of the honour of having such a fine creature on his arm, and kicked 
 about in his tights more than usual. 
 
 The dinner, though it might show symptoms of hurry, was yet 
 plentiful and good of its kind ; and, if Bartholomew had not been 
 always getting in Murry Ann's way, w^ould have been well set on 
 and served. Jog quafled quantities of foaming bottled porter 
 (luring the progress of it, and threw himself back in his chair at 
 the end, as if thoroughly overcome with his exertions. Scarcely 
 were the wine and dessert set on, ere a violent outbreak in the 
 nursery caused Mrs. Crowdey to hurry away, leaving Mr. Sponge 
 to enjoy the company of her husband. 
 
 " You'll drink (pufl) fox-hunting, I s'pose," observed Jog, after 
 a pause, helping himself to a bumper of port and passing the bottle 
 to Sponge. 
 
 " With all my heart," replied our hero, filling up. 
 
 " Fine (puflp, wheeze) amusement," observed Mr. Crowdey, with 
 a yawn after another pause, and beating the devil's tattoo upon the 
 table to keep himself awake. 
 
 " Very," replied Mr. Sponge, wondering how such a thick-winded 
 chap as Jog managed to partake of it. 
 
 *' Fine (puff", wheeze) appetiser," observed Jogglebury, after 
 another pause. 
 
 " It is," replied Mr. Sponge. 
 
 i'resently Jog began to snore, and as the increasing melody of 
 his nose gave little hopes of returning animation, Mr. Sponge had 
 recourse to his old friend " Mogg," and amidst speculations as to 
 time and distances, managed to finish the port. We will now pass- 
 to the next morning. 
 
 Whatever deficiency there might be at dinner was amply atoned 
 for at breakfast, which was both good and abundant ; bread and 
 cake of all sorts, eggs, muifins, toast, honey, jellies, and preserves 
 without end. On the side-table was a dish of hot kidneys and a. 
 magnificent red home-fed ham. 
 
 But a greater treat far, as Mrs. Jogglebury thought, was in the 
 guests set around. There were arranged all her tulips in succcs-
 
 3irc. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 307 
 
 gion, beginning with that greatest of all wonders, Gnstavus James, 
 and running on with Anna Maria, Frederick John, Juliana Jane, 
 Margaret Henrietta, Sarah Amelia, down to Peter AVilliam, the 
 heir, who sat next his pa. These formed a close line on the 
 side of the table opposite the fire, that side being left for 
 Mr. Sponge. All the children had clean pinafores on, and their 
 hairs plastered according to nursery regulation. Mr. Sponge's 
 appearance was a signal for silence, and they all sat staring at him 
 in mute astonishment. 
 
 Baby, Gustavus James, did more ; for, after reconnoitring him 
 through a sort of lattice window formed of his fingers, he whined 
 out, " Who's that ogl-e-y man, ma ? " amidst the titter of the rest 
 of the line. 
 
 " Hush! my dear," exclaimed Mrs. Crowdey, hoping Mr. Sponge 
 hadn't heard. But Gustavus James was not to be put down, 
 and he renewed the charge as his mamma began pouring out the 
 tea. 
 
 " Send that ogl-e-y man away, ma !" whined he, in a louder tone, 
 at which all the children burst out a laughing. 
 
 "Baby (pulf), Gustavus ! (wheeze)," exclaimed Jog, knocking 
 Avith the handle of his knife against the table, and frowning at the 
 prodigy. 
 
 "\Vell, pa, he is a ogl-e-y man," replied the child, amid the ill- 
 suppressed laughter of the rest. 
 
 " Ah, but what have /got ! " exclaimed Mr. Sponge, producing 
 a gaudily done-up paper of comfits from his pocket, opening and 
 distributing the unwholesome contents along the line, stopping the 
 orator's mouth first with a great, red-daubed, almond comfit. 
 
 Breakfast was then proceeded with without further difficulty. 
 As it drew to a close, and Mr. Sponge began nibbling at the sweets 
 instead of continuing his attack on the solids, Mrs. Jogglebury 
 began eyeing and telegraphing her husband. 
 
 " Jog, my dear," said she, looking significantly at him, and then 
 at the egg-stand, which still contained three eggs. 
 
 " Well, my dear," replied Jog, with a vacant stare, pretending 
 not to understand. 
 
 " You'd better eat them," said she, looking again at the ^gg'?- 
 
 " I've (puff) breakfasted, my (wheeze) dear," replied Jog, 
 pompously, wiping his mouth on his claret-coloured bandana. 
 
 "They'll be wasted if you don't," replied Mrs. Jog. 
 
 " Well, but they'll be wasted if I eat them without (wheeze) 
 wanting them," rejoined he. 
 
 " Nonsense, Jog, you always say that," retorted his wife. 
 
 " Nonsense (pufi'), nonsense (wheeze), I say they will.'''' 
 
 " I say they ivmH ! " replied Mrs. Jog ; " now will they, Mr, 
 Sponge ? " continued she, appealing to our friend. 
 
 X 2
 
 308 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 " Why, no, not so much as if they went out," replied our friend, 
 thinking Mrs. Jop: was the one to side with. 
 
 "Then you'd better (puff, wheeze, gasp) eat them between you,"' 
 replied Jog, getting up and strutting out of the room. 
 
 Presently he appeared in front of the house, crowned in a pea- 
 green wide-awake, with a half-finished gibbey in his hand ; and as 
 Mr. Sponge did not want to offend him, and moreover wanted to 
 get his horses billeted on him, he presently made an excuse for 
 joining him. 
 
 Although his horses were standing ''free gratis," as he called it, 
 at Mr. Pnilington's, and though he would have thought nothing of 
 making Mr. Leather come over with one each hunting morning, 
 still he felt that if the hounds Avere much on the other side of 
 Puddingpote Bower, it would not be so convenient as having them 
 there. Despite the egg controversy, he thought a judicious ap- 
 plication of soft sauder might accomplish what he wanted. At 
 all events, he would try. 
 
 Jog had brought himself short up, and was standing glowering 
 with his hands in his coat-pockets, as if he had never seen the 
 place before. 
 
 "Pretty look-out you have hero, Mr. Jogglebury," observed ]\Ir. 
 Sponge, joining him. 
 
 "Very," replied Jog, still cogitating the egg question, and 
 thinking he wouldn't have so many boiled the next day. 
 
 "All yours ? " asked Sponge, waving his hand as he spoke. 
 
 "My (puff) ter-ri-tory goes up to those (wheeze) firs in the 
 grass-field on the hill," replied Jogglebury, pompously. 
 
 "Indeed," said Mr. Sponge, "they are fine trees;" thinking 
 what a finish they would make for a steeple-chase. 
 
 " My (puff) uncle, Crowdey, planted those (wheeze) trees,"' 
 observed Jog. " I observe," added he, " that it is easier to cut 
 down a (puff) tree than to make it (wheeze) again." 
 
 " I believe you're right," replied Mr. Sponge ; " that idea has 
 struck me very often." 
 
 " Has it ? " replied Jog, puffing voluminously into his frill. 
 
 Then they advanced a few paces, and, leaning on the iron 
 hurdles, commenced staring at the cows. 
 
 "Where are the stables?" at last asked Sponge, seeing no 
 inclination to move on the part of his host. 
 
 " Stables (wheeze) — stables (puff)," replied Jogglebury, recollect- 
 ing Sponge's previous day's proposal, — " stables (wheeze) aic 
 behind," said he, "at the back there (puff); nothin' to see at them 
 (wheeze)." 
 
 "There'll be the horse you drove yesterday ; won't you go to sec 
 how he is ? " asked Mr. Sponge.
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 309 
 
 *' Oh, sure to be well (puff) ; never nothing the matter with him 
 (wheeze)," replied Jogglebury. 
 
 " May as well see," rejoined Mr. Sponge, turning up a narrow 
 walk that seemed to lead to the back. 
 
 Jog followed doggedly. He had a good deal of John Bull in him, 
 and did not fancy being taken possession of in that sort of way ; 
 and thought, moreover, that Mr. Sponge had not behaved very 
 well in the matter of the egg controversy. 
 
 The stables certainly were nothing to boast of. They we^-e in an 
 old rubble-stone, red-tiled building, without even the delicacy of a 
 ceiling. Nevertheless, there was plenty of room even after 
 Jogglebury had cut off one end for a cow-house. 
 
 "Why, you might hunt the country with all this stabling," 
 observed Mr. Sponge, as he entered the low door. "One, two, 
 three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine. Isine stalls, I declare," 
 added he, after counting them. 
 
 " My (puff) uncle used to (wheeze) a good deal of his own (puff) 
 land," replied Jogglebury. 
 
 "' Ah, well, I'll tell you what : these stables will be much better 
 for being occupied," observed Mr, Sponge. "And I'll tell you 
 what I'll do for you." 
 
 " But they are occupied ! " gasped Jogglebury, convulsively. 
 
 " Only half," replied Mr. Sponge ; "or a quarter, I may say — 
 not even that, indeed. I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll have my 
 horses over here, and you shall find them in straw in return for the 
 manure, and just charge me for hay and corn at market price, you 
 know. That'll make it all square and fair, and no obligation, you 
 know. I hate obligations," added he, eyeing Jog's disconcerted face, 
 
 " Oh, but (puff, wheeze, gasp) — " exclaimed Jogglebury, redden- 
 ing up — " I don't (puff) know that I can (gasp) that. I mean 
 (puff) that this (wheeze) stable is all the (gasp) 'commodation I 
 have ; and if we had (puff) company, or (gasp) anything of that 
 sort, I don't know wdiere we should (wheeze) their horses," 
 continued he. " Besides, I don't (puff, wheeze) know about the 
 market price of (gasp) corn. My (wheeze) tenant, Tom Hayrick, 
 at the (puff) farm on the (wheeze) hill yonder, supplies me Avith the 
 (puff) quantity I (wheeze) want, and we just (puff, wheeze, gasp) 
 settle once a (puff) half-year, or so." 
 
 "Ah, I see," replied Mr. Sponge ; "you mean to say you wouldn't 
 know how to strike the average so as to say what I ought to pay." 
 
 "Just so," rejoined Mr. Jogglebury, jumping at the idea. 
 
 "Ah, well," said Mr. Sponge, in a tone of indifl'erence ; "' it's no 
 great odds, — it's no great odds, — more the name of the thing than 
 anything else ; one likes to be independent, you know, — one likes 
 to be independent ; but as I shan't be with you long, I'll just put 
 up with it for once, — I'll just put up with it for once, — and let you
 
 310 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 find me — and let you find mc." So saying, be walked away, lea,ving 
 Jogglebury petrified at his impudence. 
 
 " That husband of yours is a monstrous good fellow," observed 
 Mr. Sponge to Mrs. Jogglebury, who he now met coming out with 
 her tail; "he tvill insist on my having my horses over here, — 
 most liberal, handsome thing of him, I'm sure ; and that reminds 
 me, can you manage to put up my servant ? " 
 
 " I dare say we can," replied Mrs. Jogglebury, thoughtfully. 
 " He's not a very fine gentleman, is he?" asked she, knowing that 
 servants were often more difficult to please than their masters. 
 
 "Oh, not at all," replied Sponge; "not at all, — wouldn't suit 
 me if he was, — wouldn't suit me if he was." 
 
 Just then up waddled Jogglebury, puffing and wheezing like a 
 stranded grampus ; the idea having just struck him that he might 
 get off on the plea of not having room for the servant, 
 
 " It's very unfortunate (wheeze), — that's to say, it never occurred 
 to me (puff), but I quite forgot (gasp) that we haven't (wheeze) 
 room for your (puff) servant." 
 
 "Ah, you are a good fellow," replied Mr. Sponge — " a dcvilisli 
 good fellow. I was just telling Mrs. Jogglebury — wasn't I, Mrs. 
 Jogglebury ? — what au excellent fellow you are, and how kind 
 you'd been about the horses and corn, and all that sort of thing, 
 when it occurred to me that it mightn't be convenient, p'raps, to 
 put up a servant ; but your wife assures me that it will ; so that 
 settles the matter, you know — that settles the matter, and I'll now 
 send for the horses forthwith." 
 
 Jog was utterly disconcerted, and didn't know which way to turn 
 for an excuse. Mrs. Jogglebury, though she would rather have 
 been without the establishment, did not like to peril Gustavus 
 James's prospects by appearing displeased ; so she smilingly said 
 she would see and do what they could. 
 
 Mr. Sponge then procured a messenger to take a note to Hanby 
 House, for Mr. Leather, and having written it, amused himself for 
 a time with his cigars and his " Mogg " in his bedroom, and then 
 turned out to see the stable got ready, and pick up any information 
 about the hounds, or anything else, from anybody he could lay hold 
 of. As luck would have it, he fell in with a groom travelling a 
 horse to hunt with Sir Harry Scattercash's hounds, which, he said, 
 met at Snobston Green, some eight or nine miles off, the next day, 
 and whither Mr. Sponge decided on going. 
 
 Mr. Jogglebury's equanimity returning at dinner time, Mr. 
 Sponge was persuasive enough to induce him to accompany him, 
 and it was finally arranged that Leather should go on with tho 
 horses, and Jog should drive Sponge to cover in the phe-a-ton.
 
 MR. SPOXGKSS SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 ;;ii 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 A fa:\iily breakfast ox a iiuxTixr; morning. 
 
 TtS. JOGGLEBURY CROW- 
 
 DEY was a good deal discon- 
 certed at Gustaviis James's 
 irreverence to his intended 
 godpapa, and did her best, 
 both by promises and en- 
 treaties, to bring him to a 
 more becoming state of mind. 
 She promised him abundance 
 of good things if he would 
 astonish Mr. Sponge with some 
 of his wonderful stories, ami 
 expatiated on Mr. Sponge's 
 goodness in bringing him the 
 nice comlits, though Mrs. 
 Jogglebury could not but in 
 her heart blame them for some 
 little internal inconvenience 
 the wonder had experienced 
 during the night. However, 
 she brought him to breakfast 
 in pretty good form, where he 
 was cocked up in his high chair 
 beside his mamma, the rest of the infantry occupying the position 
 of the previous day, all under good-behaviour orders. 
 
 Unfortunately, Mr. Sponge, not having been able to get himself 
 up to his satisfaction, was late in coming down ; and when he did 
 make his appearance, the unusual sight of a man in a red coat, a 
 green tie, a blue vest, brown boots, &c., completely upset their pro- 
 priety, and deranged the order of the young gentleman's perform- 
 ance. Mr. Sponge, too, conscious that he was late, was more eager 
 for his breakfast than anxious to be astonished ; so, what with re- 
 pressing the demands of the youngster, watching that the others 
 <lid not break loose, and getting Jog and j\Ir, Sponge what tiiey 
 wanted, Mrs. Crowdey had her hands full. At last, having g(»t 
 them set a-going, she took a lump of sugar out of the basin, and 
 showing it to the wonder, laid it beside her plate, whispering 
 " Now, my beauty ! " into his ear, as she adjusted him in bis 
 
 GUSTAVUS JA.Mi:>
 
 312 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 chair. The child, who had been wound up like a musical snuff- 
 box, then went off as follows : — 
 
 " Bah, bah, back sheep, have 'ou any 'ool ? 
 Ess, marry, have I, three bags full ; 
 Un for ye master, un for ye dame, 
 Un for ye 'ittle boy 'ot 'uns about yc 'anc." 
 
 But, unfortunately, Mr. Sponge was busy with his breakfast, and 
 the prodigy wasted his sweetness on the desert air. 
 
 Mrs. Jogglebury, who had sat listening in ecstacies, saw the 
 olfcnded eye and pouting lip of the boy, and attempted to make 
 up with exclamations of " That is a clever fellow I That is a, 
 wonder ! " at the same time showing him the sugar. 
 
 " A little more (puff) tea, my (wheeze) dear," said Jogglebury, 
 thrusting his great cup up the table. 
 
 " Hush ! Jog, hush! " exclaimed Mrs. Crowdey, holding up her 
 forefinger, and looking significantly first at him, and then at the 
 urchin. 
 
 " Now, * Obin and Ichard,' my darling," continued she, 
 addressing herself coaxingly to Gustavus James. 
 
 " No, oiot ' Obin and Ichard,' " replied the child, peevishly. 
 
 " Yes, my darling, do, that's a treasure." 
 
 " Well, my (puff) darling, give me some (wheeze) tea," 
 interposed Jogglebury, knocking with his knuckles on the table. 
 
 " Oh dear, Jog, you and your tea ! — you're always wanting tea," 
 replied Mrs. Jogglebury, snappishly. 
 
 " Well, but my (puff) dear, you forget that Mr. (wheeze) Sponge 
 and I have to be at (puff) Snobston Green at a (wheeze) quarter to 
 eleven, and it's good twelve (gasp) miles off." 
 
 " Well, but it'll not take you long to get there," replied Mrs. 
 Jogglebury ; " will it, Mr. Sponge ? " continued she, again, 
 appealing to our friend. 
 
 " Sure I don't know," replied Sponge, eating away ; " Mr. 
 Crowdey finds conveyance — I only find company." 
 
 Mrs. Jogglebury Crowdey then prepared to pour her husband 
 out another cup of tea, and the musical snuff-box, being now left 
 to itself, went off of its own accord with, — 
 
 " Diddle, diddle, doubt, 
 My candle's out, 
 My 'ittle dame's not at 'ome — 
 So saddle my hog:, and bridle my dog, 
 And bring my 'ittle dame 'ome." 
 
 A poem that in the OM\giw?i\ programme was intended to come in after 
 " Obin and Ichard," which was to be the chcf-d''cPAwre. 
 
 Mrs. Jog was delighted, and found herself pouring the tea into 
 the sugar-basin instead of into Jog's cup.
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 31;; 
 
 Mr. Sponge, too, applauded. " "Well, that was very clever," 
 said he, filling his mouth with cold ham. " ' Saddle my dog, and 
 bridle my hog' — I'll trouble you for another cup of tea," 
 addressing Mrs. Crowdey. 
 
 "Xo, not 'saddle my dog,' sil-l-e-y man ! " drawled the child, 
 making a pet lip ; " ' saddle my hog.' " 
 
 " Oh ! ' saddle my hog,' was it ? " replied Mr. Sponge, with 
 apparent surprise ; " I thought it was ' saddle my dog.' I'll 
 trouble you for the sugar, Mrs. Jogglebury ; " adding, " you have 
 devilish good cream here ; how many cows have you ? " 
 
 " Cows (puff), cows (wheeze) ?" replied Jogglebury ; "how many 
 cows ? " repeated he. 
 
 " Oh, two, " replied ]\Irs. Jogglebury, tartly, vexed at the 
 laterruption. 
 
 " Pardon me (puff)," replied Jogglebury, slowly and solemnly, 
 with a full blow into his frill ; " pardon me, Mrs. (puff) Joggle- 
 bury (wheeze) Crowdey, but there are three (wheeze)." 
 
 *' Not in millc, Jog — 7iot in mill",'''' retorted Mrs. Crowdey. 
 
 "Three cows, Mrs. (puff) Jogglebury (wheeze) Crowdey, not- 
 withstanding," rejoined our host. 
 
 " Well ; but when people talk of cream, and ask how many cows 
 you have, they mean in milk, Mister Jogglebury Crowdey." 
 
 "Not necessarily, Mistress Jogglebury Crowdey," replied the 
 pertinacious Jog, with another heavy snort. 
 
 "Ah, now you're coming your fine poor-law guardian knowledge,"' 
 rejoined his wife. Jog was chairman of the Stir-it-stiff Union. 
 
 While this was going on, young hopeful was sitting cocked up 
 in his high chair, evidently mortified at the want of attention. 
 
 Mrs. Crowdey saw how things were going, and, turning from 
 the cow question, endeavoured to re-engage him in his recitations. 
 
 "Now, my angel!" exclaimed she, again showing him the 
 sugar ; " tell us about * Obin and Ichard.' " 
 
 "No — not 'Obin and Ichard,'" pouted the child. 
 
 " yes, my sweet, do, that's a good child ; the gentleman in the 
 pretty coat, who gives baby the nice things, wants to hear it." 
 
 " Come, out with it, young man ! " exclaimed Mr. Sponge, now 
 putting a large piece of cold beef into his mouth. 
 
 " Not a 'ung man," muttered the child, bursting out a-crying, 
 and extending his little fat arms to his mamma. 
 
 " No, my angel, not a 'ung man yet," replied Mrs. Jogglebury^ 
 taking him out of the chair, and hugging him to her bosom. 
 
 " He'll be a man before his mother for all that," observed Mr, 
 Sponge, nothing disconcerted by the noise. 
 
 Jog had now finished his breakfast, and having pocketed three 
 buns and two pieces of toast, with a thick layer of cold hnm 
 between them, looked at his great warming-pan of a watch, and
 
 314 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 said to liis guest, " When you're (wheeze), I'm (pufl)." So saying, 
 ho got up, and gave his great legs one or two convulsive shakes, 
 as if to see that they were on. 
 
 Mrs. Jogglebury looked reproachfully at him, as much as to say, 
 " How can you behave so ? " 
 
 Mr. Sponge, as he eyed Jog's ill-made, queerly put on garments, 
 wished that he had not desired Leather to go to the meet. It 
 would have been better to have got the horses a little way off, and 
 have shirked Jog, who did not look like a desirable introducer to 
 a hunting field. 
 
 " I'll be with you directly," replied Mr. Sponge, gulping down 
 the remains of his tea; adding, " I've just got to run up-stairs and 
 get a cigar." So saying, he jumped up and disappeared. 
 
 Murry Ann, not approving of Sponge's smoking in his bedroom, 
 had hid the cigar-case under the toilet cover, at the back of the 
 glass, and it was some time before he found it. 
 
 Mrs. Jogglebury availed herself of the lapse of time, and his 
 absence, to pacify her young Turk, and try to coax him into 
 reciting the marvellous " Obin and Ichard." 
 
 As Mr. Sponge came clanking down stairs with the cigar-case 
 in his hand, she met him (accidentally, of coui-sc) at the bottom, 
 with the boy in her arms, and exclaimed, " ]\Ir. Sponge, here's 
 Gustavus James wanes to tell you a little story." 
 
 Mr. Sponge stopped — inwardly hoping that it would not be a 
 long one. 
 
 "Now, my darling," said she, sticking the boy up straight to 
 get him to begin. 
 
 " JVoiv then! " exclaimed Mr. Crowdey, in the true Jehu-like style, 
 from the vehicle at the door, in which he had composed himself. 
 
 " Coming, Jog ! coming ! " replied Mrs. Crowdey, with a frown 
 on her brow at the untimely interruption ; then appealing again 
 to the child, who was nestling in his mother's bosom, as if disin- 
 clined to show off, she said, " Now, my darling, let the gentleman 
 hear how nicely you'll say it." 
 
 Tlie child st'ill slunk. 
 
 " That's a fine fellow, out wilU it ! " said Mr. Sponge, taking up 
 his hat to be off. 
 
 "Now then ! " exclaimed his host again. 
 
 " Coming ! " replied Mr. Sponge. 
 
 As if to thwart him, the child then began, Mrs. Jogglebury 
 holding up her forefinger as well in admiration as to keep 
 silence : — 
 
 " Obin and Ichard, two pretty men, 
 Lay in bed till 'e clock struck ten ; 
 Up starts Obin, and looks at the sky • 
 
 And then the brat stopped.
 
 ME. SPONGII'S SPOETING TOUR. 015 
 
 "Very beantifnl !" exclaimed Mr. Sponge ; "very beautiful ! One 
 of Moore's, isn't it? Thank you, my little dear, thank you," added 
 he, chucking him under the chin, and putting on his hat to be off. 
 
 " 0, but stop, Mr. Sponge ! " exclaimed Mrs. Jogglebury, " you 
 haven't heard it all — there's more yet." 
 
 Then turning to the child, she thus attempted to give him the cue. 
 
 " 0, ho ! bother " 
 
 "Now then! time's /««;;.' " again shouted Jogglebury into the 
 passage. 
 
 " dear, Mr. Jogglebury, will you hold your stoopid tongue ! " 
 exclaimed she ; adding, " you certainly are the most tiresome man 
 under the sun." She then turned to the child wiih — 
 
 " ho ! bother Ichard " again. 
 
 But the child was mute, and Mr. Sponge fearing, from some 
 indistinct growlings that proceeded from the carriage, that a 
 storm was brewing, endeavoured to cut short the entertainment 
 by exclaiming — 
 
 " Wonderful two-year-old ! Pity he's not in the Darby. Dare 
 say he'll tell me the rest when I come back." 
 
 But this only added fuel to the fire of Mrs. Jogglebury's ardour, 
 and made her more anxious that Sponge should not lose a Avord 
 of it. Accordingly she gave the fat dumpling another jerk up on 
 her arm, and repeated — 
 
 " ho ! bother Ichard, the • What's very high ? " asked 
 
 Mrs. Jogglebury, coaxingly. 
 
 " Sun's very high," 
 
 replied the child. 
 
 " Yes, my darling ! " exclaimed the delighted mamma. 
 Mrs. Jogglebury then proceeded with — 
 
 " Ou go before " 
 
 Child.—" With bottle and bag,"' 
 
 Mamma. — " And I'll follow after " 
 
 Child.—"' With 'ittle Jack Nag," 
 
 "Well now, that is wonderful !" exclaimed Mr. Sponge, hurrying 
 on his dog-skin gloves, and wishing both Obin and Ichard further. 
 
 '^ Isn't it!'''' exclaimed Mrs. Jogglebury, in ecstasies; then 
 addressing the child, she said, " Now that is a good boy — that is 
 a fine fellow. Now couldn't he say it all over by himself, doesn't 
 he think ? " Mrs. Jogglebury looking at IMr. Sponge, as if she 
 was meditating the richest possible treat for him. 
 
 " Oh," replied Mr. Sponge, quite tired of the detention, " he'lf 
 tell me it when I retin-n — he'll tell me it when I return," at the 
 same time giving the child another parting chuck under the chin. 
 But the child was not to be put off in that way, and instead of
 
 316 ME. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUIi. 
 
 crouching, and nestling, and hiding its face, it looked up quite 
 boldly, and alter a little hesitation went through "Obiu and Ichard," 
 to the delight of Mrs. Jogglebury, the mortification of Sponge, and 
 the growling denunciations of old Jog, who still kept his place in 
 the vehicle. Mr. Sponge could not but stay the poem out. 
 
 At last they got started, Jog driving, Sponge occupying the low 
 scat, Jog's flail and Sponge's cane whip-stick stuck in the straps 
 of the apron. Jog was very crusty at first, and did little but whip 
 and flog the old horse, and puff and growl about being late, keeping 
 people waiting, over-driving the horse, and so on. 
 
 " Have a cigar ? " at last asked Sponge, opening the well-filled 
 case, and tendering that olive-branch to his companion. 
 
 " Cigar (wheeze), cigar (puff) ? " replied Jog, eyeing the case ; 
 " why, no, p'raps not, I think (wheeze), thank'c." 
 
 " Do you never smoke ? " asked Sjiongc. 
 
 " (Puff — wheeze) Not often," replied Jogglel)ury, looking 
 about him with an air of indifference. He did not like to say no, 
 because Springwheat smoked, though Mrs. Springey highly dis- 
 approved of it. 
 
 " You'll find them very mild," observed Sponge, taking one out 
 for himself, and again tendering the case to his friend. 
 
 " Mild (wheeze), mild (puff), arc they ?" said Jog, thinking he 
 would try one. 
 
 Mr. Sponge then struck a light, and, getting his own cigar well 
 under way, lit one for his friend, and presented it to him. They 
 then went puffing, and whipping, and smoking in silence. Jog 
 spoke first. 
 
 " I'm going io he (puff) s/f/^," observed he, slowly and solemnly. 
 
 " Hope not," replied Mr. Sponge, with a hearty whiff up into 
 the air. 
 
 " I am going to be (puff) sick," observed Jog, after another pause. 
 
 " Be sick on your own side, then," replied Sponge, with another 
 hearty whiff. 
 
 " By the (puff) powers ! I am (puff) sick ! " exclaimed Joggle- 
 bury, after another pause, and throwing away the cigar. " Oh, 
 dear !" exclaimed he, "you shouldn't have given me that nasty 
 (puff) thing." 
 
 "My dear fellow, I didn't know it would make you sick," 
 replied Mr. Sponge 
 
 "Well, but (puff) if they (wheeze) other people sick, in all (puff) 
 probability they'll (wheeze) me. There T'' exclaimed he, pulling 
 up again. 
 
 The delays occasioned by these catastrophes, together with the 
 time lost by " Obin and Ichard," threw our sportsmen out con- 
 siderably. When they reached Chalkerley-gate it wanted ten 
 minutes to eleven, and they had still three miles to go.
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUB. 317 
 
 " Wc shall be late," observed Sponge, inwardly denouncing 
 *' Obin and Ichard." 
 
 " Shouldn't wonder," replied Jog, adding, with a pulT into his 
 frill, " consequence of making me sick, you sec." 
 
 " My dear fellow, if you don't know your own stomach by this 
 time, you did ought to do," replied Mr. Sponge. 
 
 •' I (puff) flatter myself I do (wheeze) my own stomach," replied 
 Jogglebury, tartly. 
 
 They then rumbled on for some time in silence, 
 
 "When they came within sight of Snobston Green, the coast was 
 clear. Not a red coat, or hunting indication of any sort, was to 
 be seen. 
 
 " I told you so (puff) ! " growled Jog, blowing full into his frill, 
 and pulling up short. 
 
 " They be gone to Hackberry Dean," said an old man, breaking 
 stones by the road-side. 
 
 " Hackberry Dean (puff) — Hackberry Dean (wheeze) ! " replied 
 Jog, thoughtfully ; "then we must (pulF) by ToUarton Mill, and 
 through the (wheeze) village to Stcwley ? " 
 
 " Y-c-a-z," drawled the man. 
 
 Jog then drove on a few paces, and turned up a lane to the left, 
 whose finger-post directed the road " to Tollartou." He seemed 
 less disconcerted than Sponge, who kept inwardly auathematisinsi-, 
 not only "Obin and Ichard," but " Diddle, diddle, doubt,"—" Bali, 
 bah, black sheep," — the whole tribe of nursery ballads, in short. 
 
 The fact was. Jog wanted to be into Hackberry Dean, which 
 was full of fine, straight hollies, fit either for gibbeys or whip- 
 sticks, and the hounds being there gave him the eniree. It was 
 for helping himself there, without this excuse, that he had been 
 ■" county courted," and he did not care to renew his acquaintance 
 •with the judge. He now whipped and jagged the old nag, as if 
 intent on catching the hounds. Mr. Sponge liberated his whip 
 from the apron-straps, and lent a hand when Jog began to flag. 
 ^0 they rattled and jingled away at an amended pace. Still it 
 seemed to Mr. Sponge as if they would never get there. Having 
 passed through ToUarton, and cleared the village of Stewley, Mi-. 
 Sponge strained his eyes in every direction where there was a bib 
 •of wood, in hopes of seeing something of the hounds. Meanwhile 
 Jog was shuffling his little axe from below the cushion of the 
 driving-seat into the pocket of his great coat. All of a sudden he 
 pulled up, as they were passing a bank of wood (Hackberry Dean), 
 and handing the reins to his companion, said, 
 
 " Just lay hold for a minute whilst I (puff) out." 
 
 " What's happened ? " asked Sponge, " Not sick again, are you ? ' 
 
 " No (puff), not exactly (wheeze) sick, but I want to be out all 
 the (putt') same."
 
 318 2fB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 So saying, out he bundled, and crushing through the fern-grown 
 woodbiney fence, darted into the wood in a way that astonished 
 our hero. Presently the chop, chop, chop of the axe revealed the 
 mystery. 
 
 '• By the powers, the fool's at his sticks ! " exclaimed Sponge, 
 disgusted at the contretemps. " Mister Jogglebury ! " roared he, 
 " Mister Jogglebury, we shall never catch up the hounds at this 
 rate ! " 
 
 But Jog Avas deaf — clioj), chop, chop was all the answer Mr. 
 Sponge got. 
 
 " Well, hang me if ever I saw such a fellow ! " continued Sponge, 
 thinking he would drive on if he only knew the way. 
 
 " Chop, chop, chop,'^ continued the axe. 
 
 "Mister Jogglebury! Mister Jogglebury CTO\Ydej a-hooi!" 
 roared Sponge, at the top of his voice. 
 
 The axe stopped. " Anyljody comin' ?" resounded from the wood. 
 
 " You come,'' replied Mr. Sponge. 
 
 " Presently," was the answer ; and the chqj, chop, chopping was 
 resumed. 
 
 "The man's mad," muttered Mr. Sponge, throwing himself 
 back in the seat. 
 
 At length Jog appeared brushing and tearing his way out of 
 the wood, with two fine hollies under his arm. He was running 
 down with perspiration, and looked anxiously up and down the 
 road as he blundered through the fence to see if there was any 
 one coming. 
 
 " I really think (puff) this will make a four-in-hander (wheeze)," 
 exclaimed he, as he advanced towards the carriage, holding a 
 holly so as to show its full length — " not that I (puff, wheeze, 
 gasp) do much in that (puff, wheeze) line, but really it is such a 
 (puff", wheeze) beauty that I couldn't (puff, wheeze, gasp) resist it." 
 
 " Well, but I thought we were going to hunt," observed Mr. 
 Sponge, drily. 
 
 " Hunt (puff) ! so we are (wheeze) ; but there are no hounds 
 (gasp). My good (puff) man," continued he, addressing a sraock- 
 frocked countryman, who now came up, " have you seen anything 
 of the (wheeze) hounds ? " 
 
 " E-e-s," replied the man. " They be gone to Brookdale 
 Plantin'." 
 
 " Then we'd better (puff) after them," said Jog, running the 
 stick through the apron-straps, and bundling into the phaeton 
 with the long one in his hand. 
 
 Away they rattled and jingled as before. 
 
 " How far is it ? " asked Mr. Sponge, vexed at the detention. 
 
 " Oh (puff") close by (wheeze)," replied Jog. 
 
 " Close by," as most of our sporting readers well know to their
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 31?) 
 
 cost, is generally anything but close by. Nor was Jog's close l)y, 
 close by on this occasion. 
 
 " There," said Jog, after they had got crawled up Tra?npington 
 Hill; "that's it (putt) to the right, by the (wheeze) water 
 there," pointing to a plantation about a mile ott", with a pond 
 shining at the end. 
 
 Just as Mr. Sponge caught view of the water, the twang of a 
 horn was heard, and the hounds came pouring, full cry, out of 
 cover, followed by about twenty variously-clad horsemen, and our 
 friend had the satisfaction of seeing them run clean out of sight, 
 over as fine a country as ever was crossed. Worst of all, he 
 thought he saw Leather pounding away on the chestnut. 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 HUNTING THE HOUNDS. 
 
 Trampington Hill, whose summit they had just reached as 
 the liounds broke cover, commanded an extensive view over the 
 adjoining vale, and, as Mr. Sponge sat shading his eyes with his 
 hands from a bright wintry sun, he thought he saw them come to 
 a check, and afterwards bend to the left. 
 
 " I really think," said he, addressing his still perspiring com- 
 panion, " that if you were to make for that road on the lei't," 
 (pointing one out as seen between the low hedge-rows in the 
 distance) " we might catch them up yet." 
 
 "Left (puff), left (wheeze) ? " replied Mr. Jogglebury Crowdey, 
 staring about with anything but the quickness that marked his 
 movements when he dived into Hackberry Dean. 
 
 " Don't you see," asked Sponge, tartly, " there's a road by the 
 corn-stacks yonder ? " pointing them out. 
 
 " I see," replied Jogglebury, blowing freely into his shirt-frill. 
 "I see," repeated he, staring that way; "but I think (puff") 
 that's a mere (wheeze) occupation road, leading to (gasp) no- 
 where." 
 
 " Never mind, let's try ! " exclaimed Mr. Sponge, giving the 
 rein a jerk, to get the horse into motion again ; adding, " it's no 
 use sitting here, you know, like a couple of fools, when the hounds 
 are running." 
 
 " Couple of (puff) ! " growled Jog, not liking the appellation, 
 and wishing to be home with the long holly. " I don't see any- 
 thing (wheeze) foolish in the (puff) business." 
 
 " There they are ! " exclaimed Mr. Sponge, who had kept his 
 eye on the spot he last viewed them, and now saw the horsemen
 
 320 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 titt-up-ing across a grass field in the easy way that distance makes 
 very uneasy riding look. " Gut along ! " exclaimed he, laying into 
 ithe horse's hind-quarters with his hunting-whip. 
 
 ^'- Don't I the horse is (puff) tired," retorted Jog, angrily, hold- 
 ing the horse, instead of letting him go to Sponge's salute. 
 
 " Not a bit on't ! " exclaimed Sponge ; "fresh as paint ! Spring 
 Jiim a bit, that's a good fellow ! " added he. 
 
 Jog didn't fancy being dictated to in this way, and just crawled 
 :along at his own pace, some six miles an hour, his dull phlegmatic 
 face contrasting with the eager excitement of Mr. Sponge's coun- 
 tenance. If it had not been that Jog wanted to see that Leather 
 did not play any tricks with his horse, he would not have gone a 
 yard to please Mr. Sponge. Jog might, however, have been easy 
 on that score, for Leather had just buckled the curb-rein of the 
 horse's bridle round a tree in the plantations where they found 
 him, and the animal, being used to this sort of work, had fallen-to 
 quite contentedly upon the grass within reach. 
 
 Bilkington Pike now appeared in view, and Jog drew in as he 
 spied it. He knew the damage : sixpence for carriages, and ho 
 -doubted that Sponge would pay it. 
 
 " It's no use going any (wheeze) further," observed he, drawing 
 up into a walk, as he eyed the red-brick gable end of the toll-house, 
 and the formidable white gate across the road. 
 
 Tom Coppers had heard the hounds, and, knowing the hurry 
 sportsmen are often in, had taken the precaution to lock the gate. 
 
 " Just a Iceile further ! " exclaimed Mr. Sponge, soothingly, 
 whose anxiety in looking after the hounds had prevented his 
 seeing this formidable impediment. "If you would just drive up 
 to that farm-house on the hill," pointing to one about half a mile 
 off, " I think we should be able to decide whether it's worth going 
 on or not." 
 
 "Well (puff), well (wheeze), well (gasp)," pondered Jogglebury, 
 still staring at the gate, " if you (puff) think it's worth (wheeze) 
 while going through the (gasp) gate," nodding towardsitas he spoke. 
 
 " Oh, never mind the gate," repHed Mr. Sponge, with an osten- 
 tatious dive into his breeches pocket, as if he was going to pay it. 
 
 He kept his hand in his pocket till he came close up to the gate, 
 when, suddenly drawing it out, he said — 
 
 " Oh, hang it ! I've left my purse at home ! Never mind, drive 
 on," said he to his host ; exclaiming to the man, " it's Mr. 
 Crowdey's carringc — Mr. Jogglebury Crowdey's carriage ! Mr. 
 Crowdcy, the chairman of the Stir-it-stiff Poor-Law Union ! " 
 
 " S'uj^cnre ! " shouted the man, following the phaeton with 
 outstretched hand. 
 
 "Ord, hang it (puff)! I could have done that (wheeze)," 
 growled Jogglebury, pulling up.
 
 3IE. SPOKGE'S SPOBTING TOUE. 321 
 
 " You baru'L got no ticket," said Coppers, coming up, "and 
 jvin't a-goiu' to not never no mcetin' o' trustees, are you ? " asked 
 lie, seeing the importance of the person with whom he had to 
 deal ; — a trustee of that and other roads, and one wlio always 
 availed himself of his privilege of going to the meetings toll-free. 
 
 "No," replied Jog, pompously handing Sponge the whip and reins. 
 
 He then rose deliberately from his seat, and slowly unbuttoned 
 each particular button of the brown great-coat he had over the 
 tight black hunting one. He then unbuttoned the black, and 
 next the right-hand pocket of the white moleskins, in which he 
 carried his money. He then deliberately fished up his greeu-and- 
 gold purse, a souvenir of Miss Smiler (the plaintiff in the breach- 
 of-promise action, Smiler v. Jogglebury), and holding it with both 
 hands before his eyes, to see which end contained the silver, he 
 slowly drew the slide, and took out a shilling, though there were 
 plenty of sixpences in. 
 
 This gave the man an errand into the toll-house to get one, and, 
 by way of marking his attention, when he returned he said, in tiie 
 negative way that country people put a question — 
 
 " You'll not need a ticket, will you ? " 
 
 " Ticket (puff), ticket (wheeze) ? " repeated Jog, thoughtfully. 
 " Yes, I'll take a ticket," said he. 
 
 " Oh ! hang it no," replied Sponge ; " let's get on ! " stamping 
 against the bottom of tlie phaeton to set the horse a-going. 
 
 " Costs nothin','' observed Jog, dryly, drawing the reins, as the 
 man again returned to the gate-house. 
 
 A considerable delay then took place ; first, Pikey had to find 
 his glasses, as he called his spectacles, to look out a cne-horso- 
 chaise ticket. Then he had to look out the tickets, when he found 
 he had all sorts except a one-horse-chaise one ready — waggons, 
 hearses, mourning-coaches, saddle-horses, chaises and pair, mules, 
 fisses, every sort but the one that was wanted. Well, then he had 
 to fill one up, and to do this he had, first, to find the ink-horn, 
 and then a pen that would " mark," so that, altogether, a delay 
 took place that would have been peculiarly edifying to a Kenning- 
 ton Common or Lambeth gate-keeper to witness. 
 
 But it was not all over yet. Having got the ticket. Jog 
 examined it, minutely, to see that it was all right, then held it to 
 his nose to smell it, and ultimately drew the purse slide, and 
 deposited it amongst the sovereigns. He then restored that 
 expensive trophy to his pocket, shook his leg, to send it down, 
 then buttoned the pocket, and took the tight black coat with both 
 hands and dragged it across his chest, so as to get his stomach in. 
 . He then gasped and held his breath, making himself as small as 
 possible, while he coaxed the buttons into the holes ; and that 
 difficult process being at length accomplished, he stood still awhile 
 
 Y
 
 322 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUB. 
 
 to take breath after the exertion. Then he began to rebutton the 
 easy, brown great-coat, going deliberately up the whole series, from 
 the small button below, to keep the laps together, up to the one on 
 the neck, or where the neck would have been if Jog had not been 
 all stomach up to the chin. He then soused himself into his seat, 
 and, snorting heavily through his nostrils, took the reins and whip 
 and long holly from Mr. Sponge, and drove leisurely on. Sponge 
 sat anathematising his slowness. 
 
 When they reached the farm-house on the hill the hounds were 
 fairly in view. The huntsman was casting them, and the horse- 
 men were grouped about as usual, while the laggers were stealing 
 quietly up the lanes and bye-roads, thinking nobody would see 
 them. Save the whites or the greys, our friends in the " chay " 
 were not sufficiently near to descry the colours of the horses ; but 
 Mr. Sponge could not help thinking that he recognized the outline 
 of the wicked chestnut, Mnltum in Parvo. 
 
 "By the powers, but if it is him," muttered he to himself, 
 clenching his fist and grinding his teeth as he spoke ; " but I'll — 
 I'll — I'll make sich an example of you," meaning of Leather. 
 
 Mr. Sponge coald not exactly say what he would do, for it was 
 by no means a settled point whether Leather or he were master. 
 But to the hounds. If it had not been for Mr. Sponge's shabbi- 
 ness at the turnpike-gate, we really believe he might now have 
 caught them up, for the road to them was down hill all the way, 
 and the impetus of the vehicle would have sent the old screw 
 along. That delay, liowever, was fatal. Before they had gone a 
 quarter of the distance the hounds suddenly struck the scent at a 
 hedge-row, and, with heads up and sterns down, went straight 
 away at a pace that annihilated all hope. They were out of sight 
 in a minute. It was clearly a case of kill. 
 
 "Well, there's a go !" exclaimed Mr. Sponge, folding his arras, 
 and throwing himself back in the phaeton in disgust. " I think 
 I never saw such a mess as we've made this morning." 
 
 And he looked at the stick in the apron, and the long holly 
 between Jog's legs, and longed to lay them about his great back. 
 
 "Well (puff), I s'pose (wheeze) we may as well (puff) home 
 now ? " observed Jog, looking about him quite unconcernedly. 
 
 " I think so," snapped Sponge ; adding, " we've done it for once, 
 at all events." 
 
 The observation, however, was lost upon Jog, whose mind was 
 occupied with thinking how to get the phaeton round without upset- 
 ting. The road was narrow at best, and the newly-laid stone-heaps 
 had encroached upon its bounds. He first tried to back between two 
 stone-heaps, but only succeeded in running a wheel into one ; he 
 then tried the forward tack, with no better success, till Mr. Sponge 
 seeing matters were getting worse, just jumped out, and taking
 
 3IB. SPONGE'S SPOETING TOUR. 323 
 
 the old horse by the head, executed the manoeuTre that Mr. 
 Jogglebuiy Crowdey first attempted. They then commenced 
 retracing their steps, rather a long trail, even for people in au 
 amiable mood, but a terribly long one for disagreeing ones. 
 
 Jog, to be sure, was pretty comfortable. He had got all he 
 wanted — all he went out a-hunfcing for ; and as he hissed and 
 jerked the old horse along, he kept casting an eye at the contents 
 of the apron, thinking what crowned, or great man's head, the 
 now rough, club-headed knobs should be fashioned to represent ; 
 and indulged in speculations as to their prospective worth and 
 possible destination. He had not the slightest doubt that a 
 thousand sticks to each of his children would be as good as a 
 couple of thousand pounds a-piece ; sometimes he thought more, 
 but never less. Mr. Sponge, on the other hand, brooded over the 
 loss of the run ; indulged in all sorts of speculations as to the 
 splendour of the affair ; pictured the figure he would have cut on 
 the chestnut, and the price he might have got for him in the field. 
 Then he thought of the bucketing Leather would give him ; the 
 way he would ram him at everything : how he would let him go 
 with a slack rein in the deep — very likely making him overreach 
 — nay, there was no saying but he might stake him. 
 
 Then he thought over all the misfortunes and mishaps of the 
 day. The unpropitious toilet; the aggravation of " Obin and 
 Ichard ; " the delay caused by Jog being sick with his cigar ; the 
 divergence into Hackberry Dean ; and the long protracted wait 
 at the toll-bar. Reviewing all the circumstances fairly and 
 dispassionately, Mr. Sponge came to the determination of having 
 nothing more to do with Mr. Jogglebury Crowdey in the hunting 
 way. These, or similar cogitations and resolutions were, at length, 
 inteiTupted by their arriving at home, as denoted by an outburst of 
 children rushing from the lodge to receive them, — Gustavus James, 
 in his nurse's arms, bringing up the rear, to whom our friend 
 could hardly raise the semblance of a smile. 
 
 It was all that little brat ! thought he.
 
 324 
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPOETING TOUR. 
 
 CHAPTEE XLVI. 
 
 COUNTRY QUAKTERS. 
 
 [R HARRY 
 SCATTER- 
 CASH'S were 
 only an ill- 
 supported 
 pack of 
 hounds ; they 
 were not kept 
 • n p o n a n y 
 ' fixed princi- 
 ples. We do 
 not mean to- 
 say that they 
 had not plent}^ 
 to eat, but 
 their manage- 
 ment was only 
 of the scrim- 
 maging order- 
 Sir Harry was 
 what is techni- 
 cally called,, 
 "going it." 
 Like our noble 
 friend, Lord 
 
 Hardup, now Earl of Scamperdale, he had worked through 
 the morning of life without knowing what it was to be troubled 
 with money ; but, unlike his lordship, now that he had 
 unexpectedly come into some, he seemed bent upon trying how 
 last he could get through it. In this laudable endeavour he was 
 ably assisted l3y Lady Scattercash, lately the lovely and elegant 
 Miss Spangles, of the "Theatre Royal, Sadler's Wells." Sir 
 Harry had married her before his windfall made him a baronet, 
 having, at the time, some intention of trying his luck on the 
 stage, but he always declared that he never regretted his choice ; 
 on the contrary, he said, if he had gone among the "duchesses," 
 lie could not have suited himself better. Lady Scattercash could 
 ride — indeed, she used to do scenes in the circle (two horses and a 
 flag) — and she could drive, and smoke, and sing, and was. 
 
 LADY SCATTKRCAbH.
 
 MB. SFONGI^'S SPOUTING TOUB. 325 
 
 possessed of many otlicr accomplishments. Sir Harry would 
 sometimes drink straight an end lor a week, and then not taste 
 wine a^^'ain for a month ; sometimes the hounds hunted, and 
 sometimes they did not ; sometimes they were advertised, and 
 fiomcfcimes they Avere not ; sometimes they went out on one day, 
 and sometimes on another ; sometimes they were fixed to be at such 
 <i place, and went to quite a different one. When Sir Harry was 
 on a drinking-bout, they Averc shut up altogether ; and the huntsman, 
 Tom AVatchorn, late of the "Camberwell and Balham Hill Union 
 Harriers," an early acquaintance of Miss Spangles — indeed, some 
 gaid he was her uncle — used to go away on a drinking excursion 
 too. Altogether, they were what the country people called a very 
 *' promiscuous set." 'The hounds were of all sorts and sizes ; the 
 liorses of no particular stamp ; and the men scamps and vagabonds 
 of the first class. 
 
 With such a master and such an establishment, we need hardly 
 say that no stranger ever came into the country for the purpose of 
 hunting. Sir Harry's fields were entirely composed of his own 
 choice " set," and a few farmers, and people whom he could abuse 
 and do what he liked Avith. J\Ir. Jogglebury Crowdey, to be sure, 
 had mentioned Sir Harry approvingly, when he went to Mr. Puffing- 
 ton's, to inveigle Mr. Sponge over to Puddingpote Bower ; but 
 what might suit Mr. Jogglebury, who went out to seek gibbey 
 sticks, might not suit a person Avho went out for the purpose of 
 hunting a fox in order to shoAV off and sell his horses. In fact, 
 Puddingpote Bower Avas an exceedingly bad hunting quarter, as 
 things turned out. Sir Harry Scattercash, having had the run 
 described in our two preceding chapters, and having just imported 
 a few of the " sock-and-buskin " sort from town, was not likely 
 to be going out again for a time ; Avhile Mr. Pulfington, finding 
 where Mr. Sponge had taken refuge, determined not to meet 
 within reach of Puddingpote BoAver, if he could possibly help it ; 
 and Lord Scamperdale Avas almost always beyond distance, unless 
 horse and rider lay out over-night — a proceeding always deprecated 
 by prudent sportsmen. Mr. Sponge, therefore, got more of Mr. 
 Jogglebury Crowdey's company than he wanted, and Mr. 
 Crowdey got more of Mr. Sponge's than he desired. In vain Jog 
 took him up into his attics and his closets, and his various holes 
 und corners, and shoAved him his enormous crop of sticks — some 
 tied in sheaves, like corn ; some put up more sparingly ; and 
 others, again, Avrapped in sih^er paper, with their valuable heads 
 enveloped in old gloves. Jog would untie the strings of these, and 
 placing the heads in the most favourable position before our friend, 
 just as an artist would a portrait, question him as to whom he 
 thought they Avere. 
 
 " There, now (puff)," said he, holding up one that he thought
 
 326 MB. SPONGE'S SFOBTING TOUR. 
 
 there could bo no mistake about ; " who do you (wheeze) that 
 is?" 
 
 " Deaf Burke," replied Mr. Sponge, after a stare. 
 
 " Deaf Burke ! (puff)," replied Jog, indignantly. 
 
 " Who is it, then ? " asked Mr. Sponge. 
 
 " Can't you see? (wheeze)," replied Jog, tartly. 
 
 " No," replied Sponge, after another examination. " It's nob 
 Scroggins is it ? " 
 
 " Napoleon (puff) Bonaparte," replied Jog, with great dignity, 
 returning the head to the glove. 
 
 He showed several others, with little better success, Mr. Sponge 
 seeming rather to take a pleasure in finding ridiculous likenesses, 
 instead of helping his host out in his conceits. The stick-mania 
 was a failure, as far as Mr, Sponge was concerned. Neither were 
 the peregrinations about the farms, or ter-ri-to-ry, as Jog called 
 his estate, more successful ; a man's estate, like his childi'en, being 
 seldom of much interest to any but himself. 
 
 Jog and Sponge were soon most heartily sick of each other. 
 Nor did Mrs, Jog's charms, nor the voluble enunciation of " Obin 
 and Ichard," followed by " Bah, bah, black sheep," &c,, from that 
 wonderful boy, Gustavus James, mend matters ; for the young 
 rogue having been in Mr, Sponge's room while Murry Ann was 
 doing it out, had torn the back off Sponge's " Mogg," and made 
 such a mess of his tooth-brush, by cleaning his shoes with it, as 
 never was seen. 
 
 Mr. Sponge soon began to think it was not worth while staying 
 at Puddingpote Bower for the mere sake of his keep, seeing there 
 was no hunting to be had from it, and it did not do to keep hack 
 hunters idle, especially in open weather. Leather and he, for once, 
 were of the same opinion, and that worthy shook his head, and 
 said Mr. Crowdey was "awful mean," at the same time pulling out 
 a sample of bad ship oats, that he had got from a neighbouring 
 ostler, to show the " stuff" their "osses" were a eatin' of. The 
 fact was, Jog's beer was nothing like so strong as Mr. Puffington's ; 
 added to which, Mr, Crowdey carried the principles of the poor- 
 law union into his own establishment, and dieted his servants upon 
 certain rules. Sunday, roast beef, potatoes, and pudding under 
 the meat ; Monday, fried beef, and stick-jaw (as they profanely 
 called a certain pudding) ; Wednesday, leg of mutton, and so on. 
 Th,e allowance of beer was a pint and a half per diem to Bartho- 
 lomew, and a pint to each woman ; and Mr, Ci'owdey used to 
 observe from the head of the servants' dinner-table on the arrival 
 of each cargo, " Now this (puff") beer is to (wheeze) a month, and, 
 if you choose to drink it in a (gasp) day, you'll go without any for 
 the rest of the (wheeze) time ; " an intimation that had a very 
 favourable effect upon the tap. Mr. Leather, however, did not like
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUB. 327 
 
 it. " Puffin. o'ton's servants," he said, " had l^ecr whenever they 
 chose," and he thought it " awful mean," restricting- the quantity. 
 Mr. Jog, however, was not to be moved. Thus time crawled 
 heavily on. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Jog had a long confob one night on the expediency 
 of getting rid of Mr. Sponge. Mrs. Jog wanted to keep him on 
 till after the christening ; while Jog combated her reasons by 
 representing the improbability of its doing Gustavus James any 
 good having him for a godpapa, seeing Sponge's age, and the 
 probability of his marrying himself. Mrs. Jog, however, was very 
 determined ; rather too much so, indeed, for she awakened Jog's 
 jealousy, who lay tossing and tumbling about all through the 
 night. 
 
 He was up very early, and as Mrs. Jog was falling into a 
 comfortable nap, she was aroused by his well-known voice hallooing 
 as loud as he could in the middle of the entrance-passage. 
 
 " JjAnTBOLO-me-e-tv ! " the last syllable being pronounced or 
 prolonged like the mew of a cat. 
 
 " BARTHOLO-??^e-e-^t'.'" repeated he, not getting an answer to the 
 first shout. 
 
 " MuRRY Ann ! " shouted he, after another pause. 
 
 " MuRRY Ann ! " exclaimed he, still louder. 
 
 Just then, the iron latch of a door at the top of the house opened, 
 and a female voice exclaimed hurriedly over the banisters, — 
 
 " Yes, sir ! here, sir ! comin', sir ! comin' ! " 
 
 " Oh, Murry Ann (puif), that's (wheeze) you, is it : " asked Jog, 
 still speaking at the top of his voice. 
 
 "Yes, sir," replied Mary Ann. 
 
 " Oh ! then, Murry Ann, I wanted to (puif) — that you'd better 
 get the (puff) breakfast ready early. I think Mr. (gasp) — Sponge 
 will be (wheezing) away to day." 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied Mary Ann. 
 
 All this was said in such a tone as could not fail to be heard all 
 over the house ; certainly into Mr. Sponge's room, which was 
 midway between the speakers. 
 
 What prevented Mr. Sponge wheezing away, will appear in the 
 next chapter.
 
 S28 
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPOUTING TOUR. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVIL 
 
 SIR HARRY SCATTERCASH's HOUNDS. 
 
 HE reason ]\Ir. Sponge did not 
 take his departure, after the 
 j)retty intelligible hint given 
 by his host, was, that as he 
 was passing his shilling army 
 razor over his soapy chin, he 
 saw a stockingless lad, in a 
 purply coat and Itided hunt- 
 ii]g-cap, making his way up to 
 the house, at a pace that 
 betokened more than ordinary 
 vagrancy. It was the kennel, 
 stable, and servants' hall 
 courier of Xunsuch House, 
 come to say that Sir Harry 
 liunted that day. 
 
 Presently Mr. Leather 
 knocked at Mr, Sponge's 
 bedroom door, and, being 
 invited in, announced the fact. 
 " Sir Arry's "ounds 'unl,"' said he, twisting the door handle as he 
 spoke. 
 
 "What time?" asked Mr. Sponge, with his half-shaven face 
 turned towards him. 
 
 " Meet at eleven," replied Leather. 
 " Where ? " in(|uir('d Mr. Sponge. 
 " Nonsuch House, 'bout nine miles off"." 
 
 It was thirteen, but Mr. Leather hoard the malt liquor was 
 good, and wanted to taste it. 
 
 " Take on the brown, then," said Mr. Sponge, quite pompously ; 
 " and tell Bartholomew to have the hack at the door at ten — or 
 say a quarter to. Tell him, I'll lick him for every minute he's 
 late ; and, mind, don't let old Rorey O'Morc here know," meaning 
 our friend Jog, " or he may take a fancy to go, and we shall never 
 get there," alluding to their former excursion. 
 " No, no," replied j\Ir. Leather, leaving the room. 
 Mr. Sponge then arrayedhimself in his hunting costume — scarlet 
 coat, green tie, blue vest, gosling coloured cords, and brown tops ; 
 and was greeted with a round of applause from the little Jogs as 
 he entered the breakfast room. Gustavus James would handle 
 
 THE NONSUCH COUBlEn.
 
 MR. SPONGE STARTING FROM THE BOWER. 
 
 [P. 329.
 
 3IB. SPONGE'S SPOUTING TOUR. 329 
 
 him ; and, considering that liis paws were all over raspberry jam, 
 our friend would as soon have dispensed with his attentions. Mrs. 
 Jog was all smiles, and Jog all scowls. 
 
 A little after ten our friend, cigar in mouth, was in the saddle. 
 Mrs. Jog, with Gustavus James in her arms, and all the children 
 clustering about, stood in the passage to see him start, and watch the 
 capers and caprioles of the piebald, as he ambled down the avenue. 
 
 " Nine miles — nine miles," muttered Mr. Sponge to himself, as 
 he passed through the Lodge and turned up the Quarryburu Road ; 
 *' do it in an hour well enough," said he, sticking spurs into the 
 hack, and cantering away. 
 
 Having kept this pace up for about five miles, till he thought 
 from the view he had taken of the map it was about time to be 
 turning, he hailed a blacksmith in his shop, who, next to saddlers, 
 arc generally the most intelligent people about hounds, and asked 
 how far it was to Sir Harry's ? 
 
 " Eight miles," replied the man, in a minute. 
 
 " Impossible ! " exclaimed Mr. Sponge. " It was only nine at 
 starting, and I've come I don't know how many." 
 
 The next person Mr. Sponge met told him it was ten miles ; the 
 third, after asking him where he had come from, said he was a 
 stranger in the country, and had never heard of the place ; and, 
 what with Mr. Leather's original mis-statement, misdirections from 
 other people, and mistakes of his own, it was more good luck than 
 good manngement that got Mr. Sponge to Nonsuch House in time. 
 
 The fact was, the whole hunt was knocked up in a hurry. Sir 
 Harry, and the choice spirits by whom he was surrounded, had not 
 finished celebrating the triumphs of the Snobston Green day, and 
 as it was not likely that the hounds w^ould be out again soon, the 
 people of the hunting establishment were taking their ease. 
 "Watchorn had gone to be entertained at a public supper given by 
 the poachers and fox-stealers of the village of Bark-shot, as a 
 " mark of respect for his abilities as a sportsman and his integrity 
 as a man," meaning his indiflFerence to his master's interests ; while 
 the first-whip had gone to visit his aunt, and the groom was away 
 negotiating the exchange of a cow. "With things in this state, 
 wily Tom of Tinklerhatch, a noted fox-stcaler in Lord Scamper- 
 dale's country, had arrived with a great thundering dog fox, stolen 
 from his lordship's cover near the cross roads at Dallington Burn, 
 which being communicated to our friends about midnight in the 
 smoking room at Nonsuch House, it was resolved to hunt him 
 forthwith, especially as one of the guests, Mr. Orlando Bugles, of 
 the Surrey Theatre, was obliged to return to town immediately, and, 
 as he sometimes enacted the part of Squire Tallyho, itwas thought 
 a little of the reality might correct the Tom and Jerry style in 
 M'hich he did it. Accordingly, orders were issued for a hunt,
 
 330 MR. SPONGE'S SFOETING TOUR. 
 
 notwithstandiiig the hounds were fed and the horses watered. Sir 
 Harry didn't " care a rap ; let them go as fast as they could." 
 
 All these circumstances conspired to make them late ; added to 
 which, when Watchorn, the huntsman, cast up, which he did on a 
 higgler's horse, he found the only sound one in his stud had gone 
 to the neighbouring town to get some fiddlers,— her ladyship 
 having determined to compliment Mr. Bugles' visit by a quadrille 
 party. Bugles and she were old friends. When Mr. Sponge cast 
 up at half -past eleven, things were still behind-hand. 
 
 Sir Harry and party had had a wet night of it, and were all more 
 or less drunk. They had kept up the excitement with a champagne 
 breakfast and various liqueurs, to say nothing of cigars. They 
 were a sad debauched-looking set, some of them scarcely out of 
 their teens, with palhd cheek, trembling hands, sunken eyes, and 
 all the symptoms of premature decay. Others — the sock-and- 
 buskin ones — were a made-up, wigged, and padded set. Bugles 
 was resplendent. He had on a dress scarlet coat, lined and flxced with 
 yellow satin (one of the properties, we believe, of the Victoria), a 
 beautifully worked pink shirt-front, a pitch -plaster coloured 
 waistcoat, white ducks, and jack-boots, with brass heel spurs. He 
 carried his whip in the arm's-length-wayof a circus master follow- 
 ing a horse. Some dozen of these curiosities were staggering, and 
 swaggering, and smoking in front of Nonsuch House, to the 
 edification of a lot of gaping grooms and chawbacons, when Mr. 
 Sponge cantered becomingly up on the piebald. Lady Scattercash, 
 with several elegantly-dressed females, all witli cigars in their 
 mouths, were conversing with them from the open drawing- 
 room windows above, while sundry good-looking damsels ogled 
 them from the attics above. Such was the tahlcau that presented 
 itself to Mr. Sponge as he cantered round the turn that brought 
 him in front of the Elizabethan mansion of JSTonsuch House. 
 
 Sir Harry, who was still rather drunk, thinking that every person 
 there must be either one of his party, or a friend of one of his party, 
 or a neighbour, or some one that he had seen before, reeled up to 
 our friend as he stopped, and, shaking him heartily by the hand, 
 asked him to come in and have something to eat. This was a 
 godsend to Mr. Sponge, who accepted the proffered hand most 
 readily, shaking it in a way that quite satisfied Sir Harry he was 
 right in some one or other of his conjectures. Bugles, and all the 
 reeling, swaggering bucks, looked respectfully at the well-appointed 
 man, and Bugles determined to have a pair of nut-brown tops as 
 soon as ever he got back to town. 
 
 Sir Harry was a tall, wan, pale young man, with a strong 
 tendency to delirium tremens ; that, and consumption, appeared to 
 be running a match for his person. He was a harum-scarum 
 fellow, all strings, and tapes, and ends, and flue. He looked as if
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 331 
 
 he slept in his clothes. His hat was fastened on with aribbon, orrather 
 a ribbon passed round near the band, in order to i'asten it on, for it was 
 seldom or ever applied to the purpose, and the ends generally went 
 flying out behind like a Chinaman's tail. Then his flashy, many- 
 coloured cravats, stared and straggled in all directions, while his 
 untied waistcoat-strings protruded between the laps of his old short- 
 waisted swahow-tailed scarlet, mixing in glorious confusion with 
 those of his breeches behind. The knee-strings were generally also 
 loose ; the web straps of his boots were seldom in ; and, what with 
 one set of strings and another, he had acquired the name of Sixteen- 
 string'd Jack. Mr. Sponge having dismounted, and given his hack 
 to the now half-drunken Leather, followed Sir Harry through a 
 foil and four-in-hand whip-hung ball to the deserted breakfast-room, 
 where chairs stood in all directions, and crumpled napkins strewed 
 the floor. The litter of eggs, and remnants of muffins, and 
 diminished piles of toast, and bi'oken bread and empty toast racks, 
 and cups and saucers, and half -emptied glasses, and wholly 
 emptied champagne bottles, were scattered up and down a dis- 
 orderly table, further littered with newspapers, letter backs. 
 County Court summonses, mustard pots, anchovies, pickles — all 
 the odds and ends of a most miscellaneous meal. The side-table 
 exhibited cold joints, game, poultry, lukewarm hashed venison, 
 and sundry lamp-lit dishes of savoury grills. 
 
 " Here you are ! " exclaimed Sir Harry, taking his hunting-whip 
 and sweeping the contents of one end of the table on to the floor 
 with a crash that brought in the butler and some theatrical-looking 
 servants. 
 
 " Take those filthy things away ! (hiccup)," exclaimed Sir Harry 
 crushing the broken china smaller under his heels ; " and (hiccup) 
 bring some red-herrings and soda-water. What the deuce does 
 the (hiccup) cook mean by not (hiccuping) things as he ought ? 
 Now," said he, addressing Mr. Sponge, and raking the plates and 
 dishes up to him with the handle of his whip, just as a gaming- 
 table keeper rakes up the stakes, — " now," said he, " make your 
 (hiccup) game. There'll be some hot (hiccup) in directly." He 
 meant to say " tea," but the word failed him. 
 
 Mr. Sponge fell to with avidity. He was always ready to eat, 
 and attacked first one thing and then another, as though he had 
 not had any breakfast at Puddingpote Bower. 
 
 Sir Harry remained mute for some minutes, sitting cross-legged 
 and backwards in his chair, with his throbbing temples resting 
 upon the back, wondering where it was that he had met Mr. 
 Sponge. He looked different without his hat ; and, though he saw 
 it was no one he knew particularly, he could not help thinking he 
 had seen him before. 
 
 Indeed, he thought it was clear, from Mr. Sponge's manner, that
 
 332 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 they had met, and ho was just goin<^ to ask him whether it was at 
 Offley's or the Coal Hole, when a sudden move outside attracted 
 his attention. It was the hounds. 
 
 The huntsman's horse having at length returned from the fiddler 
 hunt, and being whisped over, and made tolerably decent, Mr. 
 Watchorn, having exchanged the postilion saddle in which it had 
 been ridden for a horn-cased hunting one, had mounted, and 
 opening the kennel-door, had liberated the pent-u^D pack, who came 
 tearing out full cry and spread themselves over the country, re- 
 gardless alike of the licang, twang, twang of the horn and the furious 
 onslaught of a couple of stable lads in scarlet and caps, who, true 
 to the title of " whippers-in," let drive at all they could get within 
 reach of. The hounds had not been out, even to exercise, since 
 the Snobston-Green day, and were as wild as hawks. They were 
 ready to run anything. Furious and Furrier tackled with a cow. 
 Bountiful ran a black cart-colt, and made him leap the haw-haw. 
 Sempstress, Singwell, and Saladin (puppies), went after some crows. 
 Mercury took after the stable cat, while old Thunderer and Come- 
 by-chance (supposed to be one of Lord Scamperdale's) joined in 
 l^ursuit of a cur. "Watchorn, however, did not care for these little 
 ebullitions of spirit, and never having been accustomed to exercise 
 the "Camberwell and Balham Hill Union Harriers," he did not 
 eee any occasion for troubling the fox hounds. " They would soon 
 settle," he said, "when they got a scent." 
 
 It was this riotous start that diverted Sixtcen-string'd Jack's 
 attention from our friend, and, looking out of the window, Mr. 
 Sponge saw all the company preparing to be off. There was the 
 elegant Bugles mounting her ladyship's white Arab ; the brothers 
 Spangles climbing on to their cream-colours ; Mr. This getting on 
 to the postman's pony, and Mr, That on to the gamekeeper's. Mr. 
 Sponge hurried out to get to the brown ere his anger arose at being 
 left behind, and provoked a scene. He only just arrived in time ; 
 for the twang of the horn, the cracks of the whips, the clamorous 
 rates of the servants, the yelping of the hounds, and the general 
 commotion, had got up his courage, and he launched out in such a 
 way, when Mr. Sponge mounted, as would have shot a loose rider 
 into the air. As it was, Mr. Sponge grappled manfully with him, 
 and, letting the Latchfords into his sides, shoved him in front of the 
 throng, as if nothing had happened. Mr. Leather then slunk back 
 to the stable, to get out the hack to have a hunt in the distance. 
 
 The hounds, as we said before, were desperately wild ; but at 
 length, by dint of coaxing and cracking, and whooping and halloo- 
 ing, they got some ten couples out of the five-and -twenty gathered 
 together, and Mr. Watchorn, putting himself at their head, trotted 
 briskly on, blowing most lustily, in the hopes that the rest would 
 follow. So he clattered along the avenue, formed between rows of
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPOUTING TOUR. 303 
 
 somLrc-hcadcd firs tincl sweeping spruce, out of which whirred 
 clouds of pheasants, and scutthng rabbits, and stupid hares kept 
 crossing and recrossing, to the derangement of ]\[r. Watchorn's 
 temper and the detriment of the unsteady pack. Squeak, squeak, 
 squeal sounded right and left, followed sometimes by the heavy retri- 
 butive hand of Justice on the ofiendcrs' hides, and sometimes by the 
 snarl, snap, and worry of a couple of hounds contending for the prey. 
 Twang, iircmg, twang, still went the horn ; and ^yhen the hunts- 
 man reached the unicorn-crested gates, between tea-caddy looking 
 lodges, he found himself in possession of a clear majority of his 
 unsizeable pack. Some were rather bloody to be sure, and a few 
 carried scraps of game, which fastidious masters would as soon have 
 seen them without ; but neither Sir Harry nor his huntsman 
 cared about appearances. 
 
 On clearing the lodges, and passing about a quarter of a mile on 
 the Hardington Road, hedge-rows ceased, and they came upon 
 Farleyfair Downs, across which Mr. Watchorn now struck, making 
 for a square plantation, near the first hill-top, where it had been 
 arranged the bag-fox should be shook. It w\as a fine day, rather 
 brighter, perhaps, than sportsmen like, and there was a crispness 
 in the air indicative of frost, but then there is generally a burning- 
 scent just before one. So thought Mr. Watchorn, as he turned his- 
 feverish face up to the bright, blue sky, imbibing the fine fresh air 
 of the wide-extending downs, instead of the stale tobacco smoke of 
 the fetid beer-shop. As he trotted over the springy sward, up the- 
 gently rising ground, he rose in his stirrups ; and, laying hold of his 
 horse's mane, turned to survey the long-drawn, lagging field behind. 
 
 " You'll have to look sharp, my hearties," said he to himself, 
 as he run them over in his eye, and thought there might be twenty 
 or five-and-twenty horsemen ; '' you'll have to look sharp, my 
 hearties," said he, " if you mean to get away, for Wily Tom has- 
 his hat on the ground, which shows he has put him down, and if 
 he's the sort of gem'man I expect he'll not be long in cover." 
 
 So saying, he resumed his seat in the saddle, and easing his 
 horse, endeavoured, by sundry dog noises — such as, " Yooi doit,. 
 Ravager ! " " Gently, Paragon ! " " Here again, IMercury ! " — to- 
 restrain the ardour of the leading hounds, so as to let the rebelliou& 
 tail ones up and go into cover with something like a body. This 
 was rather a difficult task to accomplish, for those with him being 
 light, and consequently anxious to be doing and ready for riot,, 
 were difficult to restrain from dashing forward ; while those that 
 had taken their diversion and refreshment among the game, were 
 easy whether they did anything more or not. 
 
 While Watchorn was thus manoeuvring his forces Wily Tom 
 beckoned him on, and old Cruiser and Marmion, who had often 
 been at the game before, and knew what Wily Tom's hat on the
 
 304 ME. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 ground meant, flew to him full cry, drawing all their companions 
 after them. 
 
 " I think he's away to the west," said Tom, in an undertone, 
 resting his hand on AVatchorn's horse's shoulder; "back home,"" 
 added he, jerking his head with a knowing leer of his roguish 
 eye. 
 
 " They're on him ! " exclaimed he after a pause, as the outburst 
 of melody proclaimed that the hounds had crossed his line. Then 
 there was such racing and striving among the fields to get up, and 
 such squeezing and crowding, and " Mind, my horse kicks ! " at 
 the little white hunting wicket leading into cover. " Knock down 
 the wall ! " exclaimed one. " Get out of the way ; I'll ride over 
 it ! " roared another. " We shall be here all day ! " vociferated a 
 third. " That's a header ! " cried another, as a clatter of stones 
 was followed by a pair of white breeches summerseting in the air 
 with a horse underneath. " It's Tom Sawbones, the doctor ! " 
 exclaimed one, " and he can mend himself." " By Jove ! but he's 
 killed ! " shrieked another. " Not a bit of it," added a third, as 
 the dead man rose and ran after his horse. "Let Mr. Bugles 
 through," cried Sir Harry, seeing his friend, or rather his wife's 
 friend, was fretting the Arab. 
 
 Meanwhile, the melody of hounds increased, and each man, as 
 he got through the little gate, rose in his stirrups and hustled his 
 horse along the gTcen ride to catch up those on before. The 
 plantation was about twenty acres, rather thick and briary at the 
 bottom ; and master Reynard, finding it was pretty safe, and, more- 
 over, having attempted to break just by where some chawbacons 
 were ploughing, had headed short back, so that, when the excited 
 field rushed through the parallel gate on the far side of the planta- 
 tion, expecting to see the pack streaming away over the downs, they 
 found most of the hounds with their heads in the air, some looking 
 for halloos, others watching their companions trying to carry the 
 scent over the fallow. 
 
 Watchorn galloped up in the frantic state half-witted huntsmen 
 generally are, and one of the impromptu whips being in attendance, 
 got quickly round the hounds, and commenced a series of assaults 
 upon them that very soon sent them scuttling to Mr. Watchorn 
 for safety. If they had been at the hares again, or even worrying 
 sheep, he could not have rated or flogged more severely. 
 
 " MaeksjMan ! Marksman ! oiigh, ye old Divil, get to Mm ! " 
 roared the whip, aiming a stinging cut with his heavy knotty- 
 pointed whip, at a venerable sage who still snuffed down a furrow 
 to satisfy himself the fox was not on before he returned to cover, — 
 an exertion that overbalanced the whip, and would have landed 
 him on the ground, had not he caught by the spur in the old mare'n 
 flank. Then he went on scrambling and rating after Marksman,
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. G35 
 
 the field exclaiming, as the Edmonton people did, by Johnny 
 Gilpin, 
 
 He's on ! no, he's ofE, he hangs by the mane I 
 
 At last he got shufiled back into the saddle, and the cry of 
 hounds in cover attracting the outsiders back, the scene quickly 
 changed, and the horsemen were again over head in wood. They 
 now swept up the grass ride to the exposed part of the higher 
 ground, the trees gradually diminishing in size, till, on reaching 
 the top, they did not come much above a horse's shoulder. This 
 point commanded a fine view over the adjacent country. Behind, 
 was the rich vale of Dairylow, with its villages and spires, and 
 trees and inclosures, while in front was nothing but the undulating, 
 wide-stretching downs, reaching to the soft grey hills in the dis- 
 tance. There was not, however, much time for contemplating 
 scenery ; for Wily Tom, who had stolen to this point immediately 
 the hounds took up the scent, now viewed the fox stealing over a 
 gap in the wall, and, the field catching sight, there was such a 
 hullabaloo as would have made a more composed and orderly- 
 minded fox think it better to break instead of running the outside of 
 the wall as this one intended to do. What wind there was swept 
 over the downs ; and putting himself straight to catch it, he went 
 away whisking his brush in the air, as if he was fresh out of 
 his kennel instead of a sack. Then what a commotion there was ! 
 Such jumpiugs off to lead down, such huggings and holdings, and 
 wooa-ings of those that sat on, such slidings and scramblings, and 
 loosenings and rollings of stones. Then the frantic horses began 
 to bound, and the frightened riders to exclaim, 
 
 "Bo get out of my way, sir." 
 
 " Mind, sir ! I'm a-top of you ! " 
 
 " Give him his head and let him go ! " exclaimed the still 
 drunken brother Bob Spangles, sliding his horse down with a slack 
 rein. 
 
 " That's your sort ! " roared Sir Harry, and just as he said it, 
 his horse dropped on his hind-quarters like a rabbit, landing Sir 
 Harry comfortably on his feet, amid the roars of the foot-people, 
 and the mirth of such of the horsemen as were not too frightened 
 to laugh. 
 
 " I think I'll stay where I am," observed IMr. Bugles, preparing 
 for a bird's-eye view v/here he was. " This hunting," said he, 
 getting off the fidgety Arab, " seems dangerous." 
 
 The parties who accomplished the dcGcent had now some fine 
 plain sailing for their trouble. The line lay across the open downs, 
 composed of sound, springy, racing-like turf, extremely well 
 adapted for trying the pace either of horses or hounds. And very 
 soon it did try the pace of them, for they had not gone above a mile
 
 33G ME. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUB. 
 
 before there was very considerable taib'ng with both. To be sure, 
 they had never been very well together, but still the line lengthened 
 instead of contracting. Horses that could hardly l)e held down 
 liill, and that applied themselves to the turf, on landing as if they 
 could never have enough of it, now began to bear upon the rein 
 and hang back to those behind ; Avhile the hounds came straggling 
 along like a flock of wild geese, with full half a mile between the 
 leader and the last. However, they all threw their tongues, and 
 each man flattered himself that the hound he was with was the 
 first. In vain the galloping Watchorn looked back and tootled 
 his horn ; in vain he worked with his cap ; in vain the whips rode 
 at the tail hounds, cursing and swearing, and vowing they would 
 cut them in two. 
 
 There was no getting them together. Every now and then the 
 fox might be seen, looking about the size of a marble, as he rounded 
 some distant hill, each succeeding view making him less, till, ab 
 last, he seemed no bigger than a pea. 
 
 Five-and-twenty minutes best pace over downs is calculated to 
 try the mettle of anything ; and, long before the leading hounds 
 reach Cockthropple Dean, the field was choked by the pace. Sir 
 Harry had long been tailed olF ; both the brothers Spangles had 
 dropped astern ; the horse of one had dropped too ; Sawbones, the 
 doctor's, had got a stiff' neck ; Wilhng, the road surveyor, and Mr. 
 Lavender, the grocer, pulled up together. Muddyman, the 
 farmer's four-year-old had enough at the end of ten minutes ; both 
 the whips tired theirs in a quarter of an hour ; and in less than 
 twenty minutes Watchorn and Sponge were alone in their glory, 
 or rather Sponge was in his glory, for Watchorn's horse was beat, 
 
 "Lend me your horn ! " exclaimed Sponge, as he heard by the 
 hammer and pincering of Watchorn's horse, it was all U P with 
 him. 
 
 The horse stopped as if shot ; and getting the horn, Mr. Sponge 
 went on, the brown laying himself out as if still full of running. 
 Cockthropple Dean was now close at hand, and in all probability 
 the fox would not leave it. So thought Mr. Sponge as he dived 
 into it, astonished at the chorus and echo of the hounds. 
 
 " Talhj ho I " shouted a countryman on the opposite side ; and the 
 road Sponge had taken being favourable to the point, he made for 
 it at a hand-gallop, horn in hand, to blow as soon as he got there. 
 
 " He's away ! " cried the man as soon as our friend appeared ; 
 " reel 'cross tornops ! " added he, pointing with his hoe. 
 
 Mr. Sponge then put his horse's head that way, and blew a long 
 shrill reverberating blast. As he paused to take breath and 
 listen, he heard the sound of horses' hoofs, and presently a stentorian 
 voice, half frantic with rage, exclaimed from behind, 
 
 " Who the Dickens are you ? "
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPOBTIKG TOUR. 337 
 
 " Who tlie Dickens are you 9'^ retorted Mr. Sponge, without look- 
 ing round. 
 
 " They commonly call me the Earl of Scamperdale," reared 
 the same sweet voice, " and those are my hounds." 
 
 " Thcijre not your hounds ! " snapped Mr. Sponge, now looking 
 round on his big-spectacled, flat-hatted lordship, who was closely 
 followed by his double, Mr. Spraggon. 
 
 " Not my hounds ! " screeched his lordship. " Oh, ye barber's 
 apprentice ! Ob, ye draper's assistant ! Oh, ye iinmiligaled 
 Mahomedon ! Sing out. Jack ! sing out ! For Heaven's sake, sing 
 out ! " added he, throwing out his arms in perfect despair. 
 
 " Not his lordship's hounds ! " roared Jack, now rising in his 
 stirrups and brandishing his big whip. " Not his lordship's hounds ! 
 Tell me that, when they cost him five-and-twenty 'underd — two 
 thousand five 'underd a-ycar ! Oh, by Jingo, but that's a pretty 
 go ! If they're not his lordship's hounds, I should like to know 
 whose they are ? " and thereupon Jack wiped the foam from his 
 mouth on his sleeve. 
 
 "Sir Harry's !" exclaimed Mr. Sponge, again putting the horn 
 to his lips, and blowing another shrill blast. 
 
 " Sir Harry's ! " screeched his lordship in disgust, for he hated 
 the very sound of his name — " Sir Harry's ? Oh, you rusty-booted 
 ruffian ! Tell me that to my very face ! " 
 
 " Sir Harry's ! " repeated Jack, again standing erect in his 
 stirrups. " What ! impeach his lordship's integrity — oh, by Jove, 
 there's an end of everything ! Death before dishonour ! Slugs in 
 a saw-pit ! Pistols and colTee for two ! Cock-pheasant at Wey- 
 bridge, six o'clock i' the mornin' ! " And Jack, sinking exhausted 
 on his saddle, again wiped the foam fi'om his mouth. 
 
 His lordship then went at Sponge again. 
 
 " Oh, you sanctified, putrified, pestilential, perpendicular, ginger- 
 bread-booted, counter-skippin' snob, you think because I'm a lord, 
 and can't swear or use coarse language, that you may do what you 
 like ; but I'll let you see the contrary," said he, brandishing his 
 brother to Jack's whip. " Mark you, sir, I'll fight you, sir, any 
 non-huntin' day you like, sir, 'cept Sunday." 
 
 Just then the clatter and blowing of horses was heard, and 
 Frostyface emerged from the wood followed by the hounds, w^ho, 
 swinging themselves " forrard " over the turnips, hit off the scent 
 and went away full cry, followed by his lordship and Jack, leaving 
 Mr. Sponge transfixed with astonishment. 
 
 "Changed foxes," at length said Sponge, with a shake of his 
 head ; and just then the cry of hounds on the opposite bank con- 
 firmed his conjecture, and he got to Sir Harry's in time to take up 
 his lordsliip's fox. 
 
 His lordship's hounds ran into Sir Harry's fox about two miles. 
 
 z
 
 338 
 
 MR. SPONGE' ^"^ SPOBTINd TOUR. 
 
 farther on, but the hoiinds would not break him up ; and, on 
 examining him, he was found to have been aniseeded ; and, worst 
 of all, by the mark on his ear to be one that they had turned down 
 themselves the season before, ])eing one of a litter that Hly 
 had stolen from Sir Hariy's cover at Seedeygorse — a beautiful 
 instance of retributive justice. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII. 
 
 FAIlMi::i PEASTRAW ,S DINE-MATiXEE. 
 
 THERE arc 
 
 jileasanter sit- 
 uations than 
 being left 
 alone with 
 twenty couple 
 of even the 
 best - man - 
 nered fox- 
 hounds ; far 
 pleasanter sit- 
 uations than 
 being left 
 alone with 
 such a tearing, 
 frantic lot as 
 composed Sir 
 Harry Scat- 
 tercash'spack. 
 Sportsmen are 
 so used (with 
 some hounds 
 at least) to see 
 foxes "in 
 hand" that 
 they never 
 
 think there is any difficulty in getting them there ; and it is only 
 a single-handed combat with the pack that shows them that the 
 hound does not bring the fox up in his mouth hke a retriever. A 
 tyro's first iete-a-tete with a half-killed fox, with the baying pack 
 circling round, must leave as pleasing a 50z^i'e«/r on the memory as Mr. 
 Gordon Gumming would derive from his first interview with a lion. 
 
 51R. BUOf.ES PREFERS DANCING TO HUNTING.
 
 3IB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 339 
 
 Our friend Mr. Sponge was now engaged with a game of " pull 
 devil, pull baker," with the hounds for the fox, the difficulty of 
 his situation being heightened by having to contend with the impet- 
 uous temper of a high-couraged, dangerous horse. To be sure, the 
 gallant Hercules was a good deal subdued by the distance and 
 severity of the pace, but there are few horses that get to the end 
 of a run that have not sufficient kick left in them to do mischief 
 to hounds, especially when raised or frightened by the smell of 
 blood ; nevertheless, there was no help for it. Mr. Sponge knew, 
 that unless he carried off some trophy, it would never be believed 
 he had killed the fox. Considering all this, and also that there 
 was no one to tell what damage he did, he just rode slap into the 
 middle of the pack, as Marksman, Furious, Thunderer, and 
 Bountiful, were in the act of despatching the fox. Singwell and 
 Saladin (puppies) having been sent away howling, the one bit 
 through the jowl, the other through the foot. 
 
 " Ah! leave him — leave him — leave him!'''' screeched Mr. Sponge, 
 trampling over Warrior and Tempest, the brown horse lashing out 
 furiously at Melody and Lapwing. '■^ Ah, leave him ! leave him! " 
 repeated he, throwing himself off his horse by the fox, and clearing 
 a circle with his whip, aided by the hoofs of the animal. There 
 lay the fox before him killed, but as yet little broken by the pack. 
 He was a noble fellow ; bright and brown, in the full vigour of 
 life and condition, with a gameness, even in death, that no other 
 animal shows. Mr. Sponge put his foot on the body, and 
 quickly whipped off his brush. Before he had time to pocket 
 it, the repulsed pack broke in upon him and carried off the 
 carcass. 
 
 '* Ah ! dash ye, you may have that,'''' said he, cutting at them 
 with his whip as they clustered upon it like a swarm of bees. 
 They had not had a wild fox for five weeks. 
 
 " Wlio-hoop ! " cried Mr. Sponge, in the hopes of attracting 
 some of the field. " Who-hoop ! " repeated he, as loud as he 
 could halloo. " Where can they all be, I wonder ? " said he, 
 looking around ; and echo answered — ivhere ? 
 
 The hounds had now crunched their fox, or as much of him as 
 they wanted. Old Marksman ran about with his head, and 
 Warrior with a haunch. 
 
 " Drop it, you old beggar ! " cried Mr. Sponge, cutting at 
 Marksman with his whip, and Mr. Sponge being too near to make 
 a trial of speed prudent, the old dog did as he was bid, and slunk 
 away. 
 
 Our friend then appended this proud trophy to his saddle-flap 
 by a piece of whipcord, and, mounting the now tractable Hercules, 
 began to cast about in search of a landmark. Like most down 
 countries, this one was somewhat deceptive ; there were plenty of 
 
 Z 2
 
 340 ME. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 landmai'ks, but they were all the same sort — chimps of trees on 
 hill-tops, and plantations on hill-sides, but nothin_2f of a dis- 
 tinguishing;- character, nothing that a stranger could say, " I 
 remember seeing that as I came ; " or, " I remember passing that 
 in the run." The landscape seemed all alike : north, south, east, 
 and west, equally indifferent. 
 
 " Curse the thing," said Mr, Sponge, adjusting himself in his 
 saddle, and looking about ; " I haven't the slirjlitcst idea where I 
 am. I'll blow the horn, and see if that will bring any one." 
 
 So saying, he applied the horn to his lips, and blew a keen, 
 shrill blast, that spread over the surrounding country, and was 
 echoed back by the distant hills. A few lost hounds cast up from 
 various quarters, in the unexpected way that hounds do come to a 
 born. Among them were a few branded with S,* who did not at 
 all set olT the beauty of the rest. 
 
 " 'Ord rob you, you belong to that old ruffian, do you ? " 
 said Mr. Sponge, riding and cutting at one with his whip, ex- 
 claiming, "Get away to him, ye beggar, or I'll tuck you up 
 short." 
 
 He now, for the first time, saw them together in anything like 
 numbers, and was struck with the qucerness and inequality of the 
 whole. They were of all sorts and sizes, from the solemn towering 
 calf-like fox-hound down to the little wriggling harrier. They 
 seemed, too, to be troubled with various complaints and 
 infirmities. Some had the mange ; some had blear eyes ; some 
 liad but one ; many were out at the elbows ; and not a few down 
 at the toes. However, they had killed a fox, and " Handsome 
 is that liandsome does," said Mr. Sponge, as, with his horse 
 surrounded by them, he moved on in quest of his way home. 
 
 At first, ho thought to retrace his steps by the marks of 
 his horse's hoofs, and succeeded in getting back to the dean, 
 where Sir Harry's hounds changed foxes with Lord Scamperdale's ; 
 but he got confused with the imprints of the other horses, and 
 very soon had to trust entirely to chance, Chance, Ave are sorry 
 to say, did not befriend him ; for, after wandering over the wide- 
 extending downs, he came upon the little hamlet of Tinkler 
 Hatch, and was informed that he had been riding in a semi- 
 circle. 
 
 He there got some gruel for his horse, and, with day closing in, 
 now set off", as directed, on the Ribchester Road, with the 
 assurance that he " couldn't miss his way." Some of the hounds 
 here declined following him any further, and slunk into cottages 
 and outhouses as they passed along. Mr. Sponge, however, did 
 not care for their company. 
 
 • " S," for Scaraperdale. showing thoy were his lordship's.
 
 2IE. SPONGE'S SPOUTING TOUR. 341 
 
 Having travelled musingly along two or three miles of road, 
 now thinking over the glorious run — now of the gallant wny in 
 which Hercules had carried him — now of the pity it was tliat there 
 was nobody there to see — now of the encounter with Lord 
 Scamperdale, just as he passed a well-filled stack-yard, that had 
 shut out the view of a flaming red brick house with a pea-green 
 door and windows, an outburst of " hoo-vaje, ! " followed by one 
 cheer more — " hooo-vaj ! " made the remaining wild hounds prick 
 lip their ears, and our friend rein in his horse, to hear what was 
 "up." A bright fire in a room on the right of the door over- 
 powered the clouds of tobacco-smoke with which the room was 
 enveloped, and revealed sundry scarlet coats in the full glow of 
 joyous hilarity. It was Sir Harry and friends recruiting at 
 Farmer Peastraw's after their exertions ; for, though they could 
 not make much of hunting, they were always ready to drink. 
 They were having a rare set-to — roshers of bacon, wedges of 
 cheese, with oceans of malt-liquor. It was the appearance of a 
 magnificent cold round of home-fed beef, red with saltpetre aud flaky 
 with white fat, borne on high by their host, that elicited the applause 
 and the one cheer more that broke on Mr. Sponge's ear as he was 
 passing, — applause that was renewed as they caught a glimpse of 
 his red coat, not on account of his safety or that of the hounds, 
 but simply because being in the cheering mood, they were ready to 
 cheer anything. 
 
 "Hil-/oo/ there's Mr. What's-his-name ? exclaimed brother 
 Bob Spangles, as he caught view of Sponge and the hounds 
 passing the window. 
 
 " So there is ! " roared another ; " Hoo-nuj ! " 
 
 " Hoo-raij ! " yelled two or three more. 
 
 " Stop him ! " cried another. 
 
 " Call him in," roared Sir Harry, "and let's liquor him." 
 
 " Hilloo ! Mister WhaV s-your-name ! " exclaimed the other 
 Spangles, throwing up the window. " Hilloo, won't you come in 
 and have some refi'eshment?" 
 
 " Who's there ? " asked Mr. Sponge, reining in the brown. 
 
 " Oh, we're all here," shouted brother Bob Spangles, holding 
 up a tumbler of hot brandy-and- water ; " we're all here — Sir 
 Harry and all," added he. 
 
 "But what shall I do with the hounds? asked Mr. Sponge, 
 looking down upon the confused pack, now crowding about his 
 horse's head. 
 
 " Oh, let the beef-eaters — the scene-shifters — I meant to say 
 the servants — those fellows, you known, in scarlet and black caps, 
 look after them," replied brother Bob Spangles. 
 
 " But there are none of them here," exclaimed Mr. Sponge, 
 looking back on the deserted road.
 
 342 3IB. SPONGE'S SPOETING TOUR. 
 
 " None of them here ! " hiccupcd Sir Harry, who liad now got 
 reeled to the window. " None of them here," repeated he, staring: 
 vacantly at the uneven pack. "Oh (hiccup), I'll tell you what 
 do — (hiccup) them into a barn or a stable, or a (hiccup) of 
 any sort, and we'll send for tliem when we want to (hiccup) 
 again." 
 
 " Then just you call them to you," replied Sponge, thinking 
 they would go to their master. " Just you call them," repeated 
 he, " and I'll put them to you." 
 
 " (Hiccup) call to them ? " replied Sir Harry ; " I can't 
 (hiccup)." 
 
 " Oh, yes ! " rejoined Mr. Sponge ; " call one or two by their 
 names, and the rest will follow.' 
 
 " Names ! (hiccup) I don't know any of their nasty names," 
 replied Sir Harry, staring Avildly. 
 
 " Towler ! Towler ! Towler ! here, good dog — hoop ! — here's 
 your liquor!" cried brother Bob Spangles, holding the smoking 
 tumbler of brandy-and-water out of the window, as if to tempt 
 any hound that chose to answer to the name of Towler. 
 
 There didn't seem to be a Towler in the pack ; at least, none of 
 them qualified for the brandy-and-water. 
 
 " Oh, I'll (hiccup) you what we'll do," exclaimed Sir Harry ; 
 "I'll (hiccup) you what we'll do. We'll just give them a (hiccup) 
 kick a-piece and send them (hiccuping) home," Sir Harry, reeling 
 back into the room to the black horse-hair sofa, where his whip 
 was. 
 
 He presently appeared at the door, and, going into the midst of 
 the hounds, commenced laying about him, rating, and cutting, 
 and kicking, and shouting. 
 
 " Geeie away home with ye, ye brutes ; what are you all 
 (hiccup)ing here about? Ah! cut off Ms tail I"" cried he, 
 staggering after a venerable blear-eyed sage, who dropped his stern 
 and took off. 
 
 "i>e off'! Does your mother know you're out?" cried Bob 
 Spangles, out of the window, to old Marksman, who stood 
 Vvondering what to do. 
 
 The old hound took the hint also. 
 
 "Now, then, old feller," cried Sir Harry, staggering up to Mr. 
 Sponge, who still sat on his horse, in mute astonishment at Sir 
 Harry's mode of dealing with his hounds. " Now, then, old 
 feller," said he, seizing Mr. Sponge by the hand, " get rid of your 
 quadruped, and (hiccup) in, and make yourself 'o'er all the 
 (hiccups) of life victorious,' as Bob Spangles says, when he 
 (hiccups) it neat. This is old (hiccup) Peastraw's, a (hiccup) 
 tenant of mine, and he'll be most (hiccup) to see you." 
 
 " But what must I do with my horse ? " asked Mr. Sponge,
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 343 
 
 rubbing somo of the dried sweat off the brown's slionldcr as he 
 spoke ; adding, " I sliould hke to get him a feed of corn." 
 
 " Give him some ale, and a (hiccup) of sherry in it," replied 
 Sir Harry ; '' it'll do him far more good — make his mane gi'ow," 
 smoothing the horse's thin, silky mane as he spoke. 
 
 " AVell, I'll put him up," replied Mr. Sponge, " and then come 
 to you," throwing himself, jockey fashion, off the horse as he 
 spoke. 
 
 " That's a (hiccup) feller," said Sir Hariy ; adding, " here's old 
 Pea himself come to sec after you." 
 
 So saying, Sir Harry reeled back to his comrades in the house, 
 leaving Mr. Sponge in the care of the farnici'. 
 
 "This way, sir ; this way," said the burly Mr. Peastraw, leading 
 the way into his farmyard, where a line of hunters stood shivering 
 under a long cart-shed. 
 
 " But I can't put my horse in here," observed Mr. Sponge, look- 
 ing at the unfortunate brutes. 
 
 " No, sir, no," replied Mr. Peastraw ; put yours in a stable, sir ; 
 put yours in a stable ; " adding, " these young gents don't care 
 much about their horses." 
 
 " Does anybody know the chap's name ? " asked Sir Harry, 
 reeling back into the room. 
 
 " Know his name ! " exclaimed Bob Spangles ; " why, don't 
 you?" 
 
 " No," replied Sir Harry, with a vacant stare. 
 
 " Why, you went up and shook hands with him, as if you w^ere 
 as thick as thieves," replied Bob. 
 
 " Did I ? " hiccuped Sir Harry. " Well, I thought I knew him. 
 At least, I thought it was somebody I had (hiccup)ed before ; and 
 at one's own (hiccup) house, you know, one's 'bliged to be (hiccup) 
 feller well (hiccup) with everybody that comes. But, surely, some 
 of you know his (hiccup) name," added he, lookiug about at the 
 company. 
 
 "I think I know his (hiccui)) face," replied Bob Spangles, 
 imitating his brother-in-law. 
 
 " I've seen him somewhere," observed the other Spangles, 
 through a mouthful of beef. 
 
 " So have I," exclaimed some one else, "but where I can't say." 
 
 "Most likely at church," observed brother Bob Spangles. 
 
 "AVell, I don't think he'll corrupt me," observed Captain Quod, 
 speaking between the fumes of a cigar. 
 
 " He'll not borrow much of me," observed Captain Secdybuck, 
 producing a much tarnished green purse, and exhibiting two four- 
 penny-pieces at one end, and three-halfpence at the other. 
 
 " Oh, I dare say he's a good feller," observed Sir Harry ; " I 
 make no doubt he's one of the ria'ht sort."
 
 344 3IR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 Just then in came the man himself, hat and whip in hand, 
 waving the brash proudly over his head. 
 
 "x\h, that's (hiccup) right, old feller," exclaimed Sir Harry, 
 again advancing with extended hand to meet him ; adding, "you'd 
 (hiccup) all you wanted for your (hiccup) horse : mutton broth — 
 I mean barley-water, foot-bath, everything right. Let me in ■ 
 troduce my (hiccup) brother-in-law. Bob Spangles, my (hiccup) 
 friend Captain Ladofwax, Captain Quod, Captain (hiccup) Bouncey, 
 Captain (hiccup) Seedybuclc, and my (hiccup) brother-in-law, Mr 
 Spangles, as lushy a cove as ever was seen ; ar'n't you, old boy ? " 
 added he, grasping the latter by the arm. 
 
 All these gentlemen severally bobbed their heads as Sir Harry 
 called them over, and then resumed their respective occupations — 
 eating, drinking, and smoking. 
 
 These were snme of the debauched gentlemen Mr. Sponge had 
 seen before Nonsuch House in the morning. They were all 
 captains, or captains by courtesy. Ladofwax had been a painter 
 and glazier in the Borough, where he made the acquaintance of 
 Captain Quod, while that gentleman was an inmate of Captain 
 Hudson's strong house. Captain Bouncey was the too well-known 
 betting-office keeper ; and Seedybuck was such a constant 
 customer of Mr. Commissioner Fonblanque's court, that that 
 worthy legal luminary, on discharging him for the fifth time, said 
 to him, with a very significant shake of the head, " You'd better 
 not come here again, sir." Seedybuck, being of the same opinion, 
 had since fastened himself on to Sir Harry Scattercash, who found 
 him in meat, drink, washing, and lodging. They were all attired 
 in red coats, of one sort or another, though some of which were of 
 a very antediluvian, and others of a very dressing-gown cut. 
 Bouncey's had a hare on the button, and Seedybuck's coat sat on 
 him like a sack. Still a scarlet coat is a scarlet coat in the eyes of 
 some, and the coats were not a bit more unsportsmanlike than the 
 men. To Mr. Sponge's astonishment, instead of breaking out in 
 inquiries as to where they had run to, the time, the distance, who 
 was up, who was down, and so on, they began recommending the 
 victuals and drink ; and this, notwithstanding Mr. Sponge kept 
 flourishing the brush. 
 
 "We've had a rare run," snid he, addressing himself to Sir Harry. 
 
 " Have you (hiccup) ? I'm glad of it (hiccup). Pray have 
 something to (hiccup) after it ; you must be (hiccup)." 
 
 " Let me help you to some of this cold round of beef?" ex- 
 claimed Captain Bouncey, brandishing the great broad-bladed 
 carving-knife. 
 
 " Have a slice of 'ot 'am," suggested Captain Quod. 
 
 " The finest run I ever rode ! " observed Mr. Sponge, still 
 endeavouring to get a hearing.
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SFOliTING TOUR. 345 
 
 " Dare say it would," replied Sir Harry ; " those (liiccnp) 
 hounds of mine are uncommon (hiccup)." He didn't Imow what 
 they were, and the hiccup came very opjiorfcunely. 
 
 " The pace was terrific ! " exclaimed Sponge. 
 
 "Dare say it would," replied Sir Harry; "and that's what 
 makes me (hiccup) you're so (hiccup). Pea, here, has some rare 
 old October, — (hiccup) bushels to the (hiccup) hogshead." 
 
 " It's capital ! " exclaimed Captain Seedybuck, frothing himself 
 a tumblerful out of the tall brown jug. 
 
 " So is this," rejoined Captain Quod, pouring himself out a 
 liberal allowance of gin. 
 
 " That horse of mine carried me 'MkGnificonil i; ! " observed JMr. 
 Sponge, with a commanding emphasis on the mag. 
 
 " Dare say he would," replied Sir Harry ; " he looked like a 
 (hiccup)er — a white 'un, wasn't he ? " 
 
 " No ; a Iroivn^^ replied Mr. Sponge, disgusted at the mistake. 
 
 *' Ah, well ; but there was somebody on a white," replied Sir 
 Harry. " Oh, — ah — yes, — it was old Bugles on my lady's horse. 
 By the (hiccup) way (hiccup), gentlemen, what's got Mr. Orlando 
 (hiccup) Bugles ?" asked Sir Harry, staring wildly round. 
 
 "Oh! old Bugles! old Pad-the-Hoof ! old Mr. Funker ! the 
 horse frightened him so, that he went home crying," replied Bob 
 Spangles. 
 
 " Hope he didn't lose him ? " asked Sir Harry. 
 
 " Oh, no," rephed Bob ; " he gave a lad a shilling to lead him, 
 and they trudged away very quietly together." 
 
 " The old (hiccup) ! " exclaimed Sir Harry ; " he told me he 
 was a member of the Surrey something." 
 
 " The Sorry Union," replied Captain Quod. " He teas out with 
 them once, and fell off on his head and knocked his hat-crown 
 out." 
 
 " Well, but I was telling you about the run," interposed Mr. 
 Sponge, again endeavouring to enlist an audience. " I was telling 
 you about the run," repeated he. 
 
 "Don't trouble yourself, my dear sir," interrupted Captain 
 Bouncey ; " we know all about it — found — checked— killed, killed 
 • — found — ch ecked. " 
 
 " You canH know all about it ! " snapped Mr. Sponge ; " for 
 there wasn't a soul there hut myself, much to my horror, for I 
 iiad a reg'lar row with old Scamperdale, and never a soul to 
 back me." 
 
 "What! you fell in with that mealy-mouthed gentleman, who 
 can't (hiccup) swear because h.e's a (hiccup) lord, did you ? " 
 asked Sir Harry, his attention being now drawn to our friend. 
 
 " / f?^V7," replied Mr. Sponge ; " and a pretty passage of politeness 
 we had of it."
 
 346 3IIi. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 " Indeed ! (hiccup)," exclaimed Sir Hariy. " Tell us (hiccup) 
 all about it." 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Sponge, laying the brush lengthways before him 
 on the table, as if he was going to demonstrate upon it. " Well, 
 you see we had a devil of a run — I don't know how many miles, 
 as hard as ever we could lay legs to the ground ; one by one the 
 field all dropped astern, except the huntsman and myself. At last 
 he gave in, or rather his horse did, and I was left alone in my 
 glory. Well, we went over the downs at a pace that nothing but 
 blood could live with, and, though my horse has never been beat, 
 and is as thorough-bred as Eclipse — a horse that I have refused 
 three hundred guineas for over and over again, I really did begin 
 to think I might get to the bottom of him, when all of a sudden 
 we came to a dean." 
 
 " Ah ! Cockthropple that would be," observed Sir Harry. 
 
 " Dare say," replied Mr. Sponge ; " Cock-any thing-you-1 ike-to- 
 call-it for me. Well, when we got there, I thought we should 
 have some breathing time, for the fox would be sure to hug it. 
 But no ; no sooner had I got there than a countryman hallooed 
 him away on the far side. I got to the halloo as quick as I could, 
 and just as I was blowing the horn," producing AVatchorn's from 
 his pocket as he spoke ; " for I must tell you," said he, " that 
 when I saw the huntsman's horse was beat, I took this from him 
 — a horn to a foot huntsman being of no more use, you know, than 
 a side-pocket to a cow, or a frilled shirt to a pig. Well, as I was 
 tootleing the horn for hard life, who should turn out of the wood 
 but old mealy-mouth himself, as you call him, and a pretty volley 
 of abuse he let drive at me." 
 
 *' No doubt," hiccupcd Sir Harry ; " but what was he doing 
 there ? " 
 
 " Oh ! I should tell yon," replied Mr. Sponge, " his hounds had 
 run a fox into it, and were on him full cry when I got there." 
 
 "I'll be bund," cried Sir Harry, " it was all sham — that he just 
 (hiccup) and excuse for getting into that cover. The old (hiccup) 
 beggar is always at some trick, (hiccup)ing my foxes or disturbing 
 my covers or something," Sir Hany being just enough of a master 
 of hounds to be jealous of the neighbouring ones. 
 
 " AVell, however, there he Avas," continued Mr. Sponge ; " and 
 the first intimation 1 had of the fact was a great, gruff voice, 
 exclaiming, ' Who the Dickens are yon ? ' 
 
 " ' Who the Dickens are you ? ' replied I." 
 
 " Bravo ! " shouted Sir Harry. 
 
 " Capital ! " exclaimed Secdybuck. 
 
 "Go it, you cripples! Newgate's on fire!" shouted Captain 
 Quod. 
 
 "Well, what said he ? " asked Sir Harry.
 
 MM. SFONGE'8 SFOIITING TOUR. 017 
 
 " ' They commonly call me the Earl of Scarapcrdalc,' roared lie, 
 ' and those are my hounds.' 
 
 " ' They're not your hounds,' replied I. 
 " ' Whose are they, then ? ' asked he. 
 
 " ' Sir Harry Scattercash's, a devilish deal better fellow,' 
 replied I. 
 
 " ' Oh, by Jove ! ' roared he, ' there's an end of everything. 
 Jack,' shouted he to old Spraggon, ' this gentleman says these are 
 not my hounds ! ' 
 
 '" I'll tell you what it is, my lord,' said I, gathering my whip 
 and riding close up as if I was goin' to pitch into him, ' I'll tell 
 you what it is ; you think, because you're a lord, you may abuse 
 people as you like, but by Jingo you've mistaken your man. 
 I'll not put up with any of your nonsense. The Sponges are 
 as old a family as the Scamperdales, and I'll fight you any non- 
 hunting day you like with pistols, broadswords, fists, or blunder- 
 busses.' " 
 
 " Well done you ! Bravo ! that's your sort ! " with loud thump- 
 ing of tables and clapping of hands, resounded from all parts. 
 
 " By Jove, fill him up a stiff' un ! he deserves a good drink after 
 that ! " exclaimed Sir Harry, pouring Mr. Sponge out a beaker, 
 equal parts brandy and water. 
 
 Mr. Sponge immediately became a hero, and was freely admitted 
 into their circle. He Avas clearly a choice spirit — a trump of the 
 first water — and they only wanted his name to be uncommonly 
 thick with him. As it was, they plied him with victuals and 
 drink, all seeming anxious to bring him up to the same happy 
 state of inebriety as themselves. They talked and they chattered, 
 .and they abused old Scamperdale and Jack Spraggon, and lauded 
 Mr. Sponge up to the skies. 
 
 Thus day closed in, with Farmer Peastraw's bright fire shedding 
 its cheering glow over the now encircling group. One would have 
 thought, that with their hearts mellow, and their bodies comfort- 
 able, their minds would have turned to that sport in whose honour 
 they sported the scarlet ; but no, hunting was never mentioned. 
 They were quite as genteel as Nimrod's swell friends at Melton, 
 who cut it altogether. They rambled from subject to subject, 
 chiefly on in-door and London topics ; biUiards, betting-offices, 
 Coal Holes, Creniorne, Cider Cellars, Judge and Jury Courts, 
 there being an evident confusion in their minds between the 
 characters of sportsmen and sporting men, or gents as they arc 
 called. Mr. Sponge tried hard to get them on the right tack, were 
 it only for the sake of singing the praises of the horse for which 
 he had so often refused three hundred guineas, but he never 
 succeeded in retaining a hearing. Talkers were far more plentiful 
 than listeners.
 
 348 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 At last they got to singins:, and when men begin to sing, it is 
 a sign that they are either drunk, or have had enough of each 
 other's company. Sir Harry's hiccup, from which he was never 
 wholly free, increased tenfold, and he hiccuped and spluttered at 
 almost every word. His hand, which shook so at starting that it 
 was odds whether he got his glass to his mouth or his ear, was now 
 steadied, but his glazed eye and green haggard countenance showed 
 at what a fearful sacrifice the temporary steadiness had been 
 obtained. At last his jaw dropped on his chest, his left arm hung 
 listlessly over the back of the chair, and he fell asleep. Captain 
 Quod, too, was overcome, and threw himself full-length on the 
 sofa. Captain Seedybuck began to talk thick. 
 
 Just as they were all about brought to a stand-still, the tramp- 
 ling of horses, the rumbling of wheels, and the shrill twang, 
 twang, twang, of the now almost forgotten mail horn, roused them 
 from their reveries. 
 
 It was Sir Harry's drag scouring the country in search of our 
 party. It had been to all the public-houses and beer-shops within 
 a radius of some miles of Nonsuch House, and was now taking a 
 speculative blow through the centre of the circle. 
 
 It was a clear frosty night, and the horses' hoofs rang, and the 
 wheels rolled soundly over the hard road, cracking the thin ice, 
 yet hardly sufficiently frozen to jDrevent a slight upshot from the 
 wheels. 
 
 Twang, twang, twang, went the horn full upon Farmer Pea- 
 straw's house, causing the sleepers to start, and the waking ones 
 to make for the window. 
 
 " CoACii-A-iiOY ! " cried Bob Spangles, smashing a pane in a 
 vain attempt to get the window up. The coachman pulled up at 
 the sound. 
 
 " Here we are, Sir Harry ! " cried Bob Spangles, into his brother- 
 in-law's ear, but Sir Harry was too far gone ; he could not '^ come 
 to time." Presently a footman entered with furred coats, and 
 shawls, and checkered rugs, in which those who were sufficiently 
 sober enveloped themselves, and those who were too far gone were 
 huddled by Peastraw and the man ; and amid much hurry and 
 confusion, and jostling for inside seats, the party freighted the 
 coach, and whisked away before Mr. Sponge knew where he was. 
 
 When they arrived at Nonsuch House, they found Mr. Bugles 
 exercising the fiddlers by dancing the ladies in turns. 
 
 The position, then, of Mr. Sponge was this. He was left on a 
 frosty, moonlight night at the door of a strange farmhouse, staring 
 after a receding coach, containing all his recent companions. 
 
 " You'll not be goin' wi' 'em then ? " observed Mr. Peastraw, 
 who stood beside him, listening to the shrill notes of the horn 
 dying out in the distance.
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SFORTING TOUB. 3W 
 
 "No," replied Mr. Spono-e, 
 
 "Rummy lot," observed Mr. Peastraw, with a shake of the head. 
 
 " Are they ? " asked Mr. Sponge. 
 
 " Veri/ ! '' repUcd Mr. Peastraw. " Be the death of Sir Harry 
 amonu: 'em." 
 
 " Who are they all ? " asked Mr. Sponge. 
 
 " Rnbbish ! " replied Peastraw with a sneer, diving his hands 
 into tlie depths of his pockets. "Well, we'd better go in," 
 added he, pulling his hands out and rubbing them, to betoken 
 that he felt cold. 
 
 Mr. Sponge, not being much of a drinker, was more overcome 
 with what he had taken than a seasoned cask would have been ; 
 added to which, the keen night air striking upon his heated frame 
 soon sent the liquor into his head. He began to feel queer. 
 
 " Well," said he to his host, " I think I'd better be going." 
 
 " Where are you bound for ? ' ' asked Mr. Peastraw. 
 
 " To Pnddingpote Bower," replied Mr. Sponge. 
 
 " S-o-o," observed Mr. Peastraw, thoughtfully ; " Mr. Crowdey's 
 — Mr. Jogglebury that was ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied Mr. Sponge. 
 
 " He is a deuce of a man, that, for breakin' people's hedges," 
 observed Mr. Peastraw ; after a pause " he can't see a straight 
 stick of no sort, but he's sure to be at it." 
 
 " He's a great man for walking-sticks," replied Mr. Sponge, 
 staggering in the direction of the stable in Avhich he put his 
 horse. 
 
 The house clock then struck ten. 
 
 " She's fast," observed Mr. Peastraw, fearing his guest might be 
 wanting to stay all night. 
 
 " How far will Puddingpote Bower be from here ? " asked Mr. 
 Sponge. 
 
 " Oh, no distance, sir, no distance," replied Mr. Peastraw, now 
 leading out the horse. " Can't miss your way, sir — can't miss 
 your way. First turn on the right takes you to Collins' Green ; 
 then keejD by the side of the church, next the pond ; then go 
 straight forward for about a mile and a half, or two miles, till 
 you come to a small village called Lea Gi'een ; turn short at the 
 finger-post as you enter, and keep right along by the side of the 
 hills till you come to the Winslow Woods ; leave them to the left, 
 and pass by Mr. Roby's farm, at Runton — you'll know Mr. 
 Roby ? " 
 
 " Not I," replied Mr. Sponge, hoisting himself into the saddle, 
 and holding out a hand to take leave of his host. 
 
 " Good night, sir ; good night ! " exclaimed Mr. Peastraw, 
 shaking it ; " and have the goodness to tell Mr. Crowdey from me 
 that the next time he comes here a bush-rangin', I'll thank him to
 
 350 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 slmt the gates after him. He set all my young stock wrong the 
 last time ho was here." 
 
 " I will," replied Mr. Sponge, riding off. 
 
 Mr. Peastraw's directions were well calculated to confuse a 
 clearer head than Mr. Sponge then carried ; and tlie reader will 
 not be surprised to learn that, long before he reached the Winslow 
 Woods, he was regularly bewildered. Indeed, there is no surer 
 way of losing oneself than trying to follow a long train of direc- 
 tions in a strange country. It is far better to establish one's own 
 landmarks, and make for them as the natural course of the 
 country seems to direct. Our forefathers had a wonderful knack 
 of getting to points with as little circumlocution as possible. Mr. 
 Sponge, however, knew no points, and w^as quite at sea ; indeed, 
 even if he had, they would have been of little use, for a fitful and 
 frequently obscured moon threw such bewildering lights and 
 shades around, that a native would have had some difficulty in 
 recognising the country. The frost grew more intense, the stars 
 shone clear and bright, and the cold took our friend by the nape 
 of the neck, shooting across his shoulder-blades and right down 
 his back. Mr. Sponge wished and wished he was anywhere 
 but where he was — flattening his nose against the coiTee-room 
 window of the Bantam, tooling in a hansome as hard as he could 
 go, squaring along Oxford-street criticising horses — nay, he 
 wouldn't care to be undergoing Gustavus James himself — any- 
 thing, rather than rambling about a strange country in a cold 
 winter's night, with nothing but the hooting of owls and the 
 occasional bark of shepherds' dogs to enliven his solitude. The 
 houses were few and far between. The lights in the cottages had 
 long been extinguished, and the occupiers of such of the farm- 
 houses as would come to his knocks were gruff in their answers 
 and short in their dii-ections. At length, after riding, and riding, 
 and riding, more with a view of keeping himself awake than in 
 the expectation of finding his way, just as he was preparing to 
 arouse the inmates of a cottage by the roadside, a sudden gleam of 
 moonlight fell upon the building, revealing the half -Swiss, half- 
 Gothic lodge of Puddingpote Bower.
 
 MK. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 PUDDINGPOTE BOWER. 
 
 GUSTAVUS JAMES IK TROUDLE. 
 
 We must now back the train a little, and have a look at Jog 
 and Co. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Jo,<j had had another squabble after ]\rr. Sponge's 
 departure in the morning, j\Ir. Jog reproving j\Irs. Jog for the 
 interest she seemed to take in Mr. Sponge, as shown bj her going 
 to the door to see him amble away on the piebald hack. Mrs. 
 Jog justified herself on the score of Gustavus James, with whom
 
 C52 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 she was quibc sure Mr. Sponge was mucli struck, and to whom, 
 she made no doubt, he would leave his ample fortune. Jog, on 
 the other hand, wheezed and puffed into his frill, and reasserted 
 that Mr, Sponge was as likely to live as Gustavus James, and to 
 marry and to have a bushel of children of his own ; while Mrs. 
 Jog rejoined that he was " sure to break his neck " — breaking 
 their necks being, as she conceived, the inevitable end of fox- 
 hunters. Jog, who had not prosecuted the sport of hunting long 
 enough to be able to gainsay her assertion, though he took especial 
 care to defer the operation of breaking his own neck as long as he 
 could, fell back upon the expense and inconvenience of keeping 
 Mr. Sponge and his three horses, and his saucy servant, who had 
 taught their domestics to turn up their noses at his diet table ; 
 above all, at his stick-jaw and undeniable small-beer. So they 
 went fighting and squabbling on, till at last the scene ended as 
 usual, by Mrs. Jogglebnry bursting into tears, and declaring that 
 Jog didn't care a farthing either for her or her children. Jog 
 then bundled ofP, to try and ftishion a most incorrigil)le-looking, 
 knotty blackthorn into a head of Lord Chancellor Lyndhurst. 
 He afterwards took a turn at a hazel that he thought would make 
 a Joe Hume. Having occupied himself with these till the 
 children's dinner-hour, he took a wandering, snatching sort of 
 meal, and then put on his paletot, with a little hatchet in the 
 pocket, and went oif in search of the raw material in his own and 
 the neighbouring hedges. 
 
 Evening came, and with it came Jog, laden, as usual, with an 
 armful of gibbics, but the shades of night followed evening ere 
 there was any tidings of the sporting inmates of his house. At 
 length just as Jog was taking his last stroll prior to goiiig in for 
 good, he espied a pair of vacillating white breeches coming up the 
 avenue with a clearly drunken man inside them. Jog stood 
 straining his eyes "watching their movements, wondering whether 
 they would keep the saddle or come off — whenever the breeches 
 seemed irrevocably gone, they invariably recovered themselves 
 with a jerk or a lurch — Jog now saw it was Leather on the pie- 
 bald, and thougli he had no fancy for the man, he stood to let 
 him come up, thinking to hear something of Sponge. Leather in 
 due time saw the great looming outline of our friend and came 
 staring and shaking his head endeavouring to identify it. He 
 thought at first it was the Squire — next he thought it wasn't — then 
 he was sure it wasn't. 
 
 " Oh ! it's you, old boy, is it ? " at last exclaimed he, pulling 
 up beside the large holly against which our friend had placed 
 himself, " It's you, old boy, is it ? " repeated he, extending his 
 right hand and nearly overbalancing himself, adding as he recovered 
 liis equilibrium, " I thought it was the old Woolpack at first,"
 
 ME. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUR. 353 
 
 nodding his head towards the lioase. "Well," sphittercd ho, 
 pulling up, and sitting, as he thought, quite straight in the saddle, 
 " we've had the finest day's sport and the most equitable drink 
 I've enjoyed for many a long day. 'Ord bless us, what a gent 
 that Sir 'Arry is ! He's the sort of man that should have money. 
 I'm blowed,if I were queen, but I'd melt all the great blubber-headed 
 fellows like this 'ere Crowdey down, and make one sich man as 
 Sir 'Arry out of the 'ole on 'em. Beer ! they don't know wot 
 beer is there ! nothin' but the werry strongest hale, instead of the 
 puzzon one gets at this awful mean place, that looks like nothin' 
 but the wcshin' o' brewers' haprons. ! I 'umbly begs pardon," 
 exclaimed he, dropping from his horse on to his knees on discover- 
 ing that he was addressing Mr. Crowdey — " I thought it was 
 Eobins, the mole-ketcher." 
 
 " Thought it was Eobins, the mole-catcher," growled Jog ; 
 "what have you to do with (puif) Robins, the (wheeze) mole- 
 catcher ? " 
 
 Jog boiled over with indignation. At first he thought of kick- 
 ing Leather, a feat that his suppliant position made extremely 
 convenient, if not tempting. Prudence, however, suggested that 
 Leather might have him up for the assault. So he stood puffing 
 and wheezing and eyeing the bleared-eyed, brandy-nosed old 
 drunkard with, as he thought, a withering look of contempt ; and 
 then, though the man was drunk, and the night was dark, he 
 waddled off, leaving Mr. Leather on his once white breeches' knees. 
 If Jog had had reasonable time, say an hour or an hour and 
 twenty minutes, to improvise it in, he would have said something 
 uncommonly sharp ; as it was he left him with the pertinent 
 inquiry we have recorded — "What have you to do with Eobins, 
 the mole-catcher ? " AYe need hardly say that this little incident 
 did not at all ingratiate Mr. Sponge with his host, who re-entered 
 his house in a worse humour than ever. It was insulting a gentle- 
 man on his own ter-ri-tory — bearding an Englishman in his own 
 castle. " Not to be borne (puff)," said Jog. 
 
 It was now nearly five o'clock. Jog's dinner-hour, and still no 
 Mr. Sponge. Mrs. Jog proposed waiting half-an-hour, indeed she 
 liad told Susan, the cook, to kee]) the dinner back a little, to give 
 Mr. Sponge a chance, who could not possibly change his tight 
 hunting things for his evening tights in the short space of time 
 that Jog could drop off his loose flowing garments, -wash his hands, 
 and run the comb through his lank, candle-like hair. 
 
 Five o'clock struck, and Jog was just applying his hand to the 
 fat red-and-black worsted bell-pull, when Mrs. Jog announced 
 what she had done. 
 
 " Put off the dinner (wheeze), put off the dinner (puff)," 
 re-peated he, blowing furiously into his clean shirt-frill, wiiich
 
 354 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 stuck up under his nose like a hand-saw ; "put off the dinner 
 (wheeze), put off the dinner (puff), I wish you wouldn't do such 
 (wheeze) things without consuhing (gasp) me." 
 
 " Well, but, my dear, you couldn't possibly sit down without 
 him," observed Mrs. Jog, mildly. 
 
 "Possibly ! (puff ), possibly ! (wheeze)," repeated Jog. "Tbere's 
 no possibly in the matter," retorted he, blowing more furiously 
 into the frill. 
 
 Mrs. Jog was silent. 
 
 " A man should conform to the (puff ) hours of the (wheeze) 
 house," observed Jog, after a pause. 
 
 " Well, but, my dear, you know hunters are always allowed a little 
 law," observed Mrs. Jog. 
 
 " Law ! (puff), law ! (wheeze)," retorted Jog. " I never want 
 any law," thinking of Smiler v. Jogglebury. 
 
 Half-past five o'clock came, and sLill no Sponge ; and Mrs. Jog, 
 thinking it would be better to arrange to have something hot foi 
 him wdien he came, than to do further battle with her husband, 
 gave the bell the double ring indicative of " bring dinner." 
 
 "Nay (puff), nay (wheeze) ; when you have (gasp)ed so long," 
 growled Jog, taking the other tack, " you might as well have 
 (wheez)ed a little longer" — snorting into his frill as he spoke. 
 
 Mrs. Jogglebury said nothing, but slipped quietly out, as if after 
 licr keys, to tell Susan to keep so-and-so in the meat-screen, and 
 have a few potatoes ready to boil against Mr. Sponge arrived. 
 Slie then sidled back quietly into the room. Jog and she presently 
 proceeded to that all-important meal, Jog blowing out the com- 
 pany-candles on the side table as he passed. 
 
 Jog munched away with a cajjital appetite ; but Mrs. Jog, who 
 took the bulk of her lading in at the children's dinner, sat trifling 
 with the contents of her plate, listening alternately for the sound 
 of horses' hoofs outside, and for nursery squalls in. 
 
 ]_)inner passed over, and the fruity port and sugary shei-ry soon 
 usurped the places that stick-jaw pudding and cheese had occupied. 
 
 " Mr, (puff ) Sponge must be (wheeze), I think," observed Jog, 
 hauling bis great silver watch out, like a bucket, from his fob, on 
 seeing that it only wanted ten minutes to seven, 
 
 " Oh, Jog ! " exclaimed Mrs. Jog, clasping her beautiful hands, 
 and casting her bright beady eyes up to the low ceiling. 
 
 " Oh, Jog ! What's the matter now ? (puff — wheeze — gasp)," 
 exclaimed our friend, reddening up, and fixing his stupid eyes 
 intently on his wife. 
 
 " Oh, nothing," replied Mrs, Jog, unclasping her hands, and 
 bringing down her eyes. 
 
 "Oh, nothin'!" retorted Jog. '' NofhM T' repeated he. 
 " Ladies don't get into such tantrums for nothin'."
 
 MR. i^rONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 355 
 
 *' "Well, then, Jog, I was thinking if anything should have ha — - 
 ha — happened Mr. Sponge, how Gustavus Ja — Ja — James will 
 have lost his chance." And thereupon she dived for her lacc- 
 I'ringed pocket-handkerchief, and hurried out of the room. 
 
 Bat Mrs. Jog had said quite enough to make the caklreu of Jog's 
 jealousy boil over, and he sat staring into the fire, imaginiug all 
 gorts of horrible devices in the coals and cinders, and conjuring up 
 all sorts of evils, until he felt himself possessed of a hundred and 
 twenty thousand devils. 
 
 " I'll get shot of this chap at last," said he, with a knowing jerk 
 of his head and a puff into his frill, as he drew his thick legs under 
 his chair, and made a semicircle to get at the bottle, " I'll get 
 shot of this chap," repeated he, pouring himself out a bumper of the 
 syrupy port, and eyeing it at the composite candle. He drained 
 off the glass, and immediately filled another. That, too, went down ; 
 then he took another, and another, and another ; and seeing the bottle 
 get low, he thought he might as well finish it. He felt better after 
 it. Not that he was a bit more reconciled to our friend Mr. Sponge, 
 but he felt more equal to cope with him — he even felt as if he could 
 fight him. There did not, however, seem to be much likelihood 
 of his having to perform that ceremony, for nine o'clock struck and 
 no Mr. Sponge, and at half-past Mr. Crowdey stumped off to bed. 
 
 Mrs. Crowdey, having given Bartholomew and Susan a dirty 
 pack of cards to play with to keep them awake till Mr. Sponge 
 arrived, went to bad, too, and the house was presently tranquil. 
 
 It, however, happened, that that amazing prodigy, Gustavus 
 James, having been out on a sort of eleemosynary excursion among 
 the neighbouring farmers and people, exhibiting as well his fine 
 bkie feathered hat, as his astonishing proficiency in "Bah ! bah ! 
 black sheep," and " 'Obin and Ichard," getting seed-cake from 
 one, sponge-cake from another, and toffy from a third, was troubled 
 with a very bad stomach-ache during the night, of which he soon 
 made the house sensible by his screams and his cries. Jog and his 
 wife were presently at him ; and, as Jog sat in his white cotton 
 nightcap and flowing flannel dressing-gown in an easy chair in the 
 nursery, he heard the crack of the whip, and the prolonged yeea- 
 iju-u-p of Mr. Sponge''s arrival. Presently the trampling of a horse 
 was heard passing round to the stable. The clock then struck one. 
 
 " Pretty hour for a man to come home to a strange house ! '* 
 observed Mr. Jog, for the nurse, or Murry Ann, or Mrs. Jog, or any 
 one that liked, to take up. 
 
 Mrs. Jog was busy with the rhubarb and magnesia, and the 
 others said nothing. After the lapse of a few minutes, the clank, 
 clank, clank of Mr. Sponge's spurs was heard as he passed round 
 to the front, and Mr. Jog stole out on to the lauding to hear how 
 he would get in. 
 
 A A 2
 
 050 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUE. 
 
 Thump ! thump I thump ! went Mr. Sponge at the door ; rap-^ 
 tap — tap, he went at it with his whip. 
 
 " Comin', sir ! comin' ! " exclaimed Bartholomew from tlie 
 inside. 
 
 Presently the shooting of bolts, the withdrawal of bands, and the 
 opening of doors, Avere heard. 
 
 " Not gone to bed yet, old boy ? " said Mr. Sponge, as ho 
 entered. 
 
 " No thir ! " snuffled the boy ; who had a bad cold, "been thittcn 
 up for you." 
 
 " Old puff-and-blow gone ? " asked Mr. Sponge, depositing his 
 hat and whip on a chair. 
 
 The boy gave no answer. 
 
 " Is old hellows-io-mend gone to led ? " asked Mr. Sponge in a 
 louder voice. 
 
 " The charman's gone," replied the boy, who looked upon his 
 master — the chairman of the Stir-it-stiff Union — as the imper- 
 soaification of all earthly greatness. 
 
 " Dash your impittance," growled Jog, slinking back into the 
 nursery — "/7/j;«?/ you off ! (puff)," added ho, with a jerk of \\\i\ 
 white night-capped head, "77/ tellows-to-mend you ! (wheeze)." 
 
 Gustavus James's internal qualms being at length appeased, Mr. 
 Jogglebury Crowdey returned to bed, but not to sleep — sleep there 
 was none for him. He was full of indignation and jealousy, and 
 felt suspicious of the very bolster itself. He had been insulted — 
 grossly insulted. Three such names — the " Woolpack," " Old puff- 
 and-blow," and " Bellows-to-mend " — no gentleman, surely, ever 
 was called before by a guest, in his own house. Called, too, before 
 his own servant. What veneration, what respect, could a servant 
 feel for a master whom he heard called " Old Bellows-to-mend ? "" 
 It damaged the respect inspired by the chairmanship of the Stir-it- 
 stiff Union, to say nothing of the trusteeship of the Sloppyhocks, 
 Tolpuddle, and other turnpike-roads. It annihilated everything. 
 So he fumed, and fretted, and snorted, and snored. Worst of all^ 
 lie had no one to whom he could unburden his grievance. He- 
 could not make the partner of his bosom a partner in his woes, 
 because — and he bounced about so that he almost shot the clothes 
 off the bed, at the thoughts of the "why." 
 
 Thus he lay, tumbling and tossing, and fuming and wheezing 
 and puffing, now vowing vengeance against Leather, who he 
 recollected had called him the " Woolpack," and determining to 
 have him turned off in the morning for his impudence — now 
 devising schemes for getting rid of Mr. Sponge and him together. 
 Oh, could he but see them off" ! could he but see the portmanteau 
 and carpet-bag again standing in the passage, he would gladly lend 
 his phaeton to carry them anywhere. He would drive it himself
 
 3IE. SPONGE'S SPOTTING TOUR. 357 
 
 for the pleasure of knowing and feeling he was clear of them. He 
 wouldn't haggle about the pikes ; nay, he would even give Spongo 
 a gibbey, any he liked — the pick of the whole — Wellington, 
 Napoleon Bonaparte, a crowned head even, though it would 
 damage the set. So he lay, rolling and restless, hearing every 
 clock strike ; now trying to divert his thoughts, by making a 
 rough calculation what all his gibbies put together were worth ; now 
 considering whether he had forgotten to go for any he had marked 
 in the course of his peregrinations ; now wishing he had laid one 
 about old Leather, when he fell on his knees after calling him the 
 " Woolpack ; " then wondering whether Leather would have had 
 him before the County Court for damages, or taken him before 
 Justice Slowcoach for the assault. As morning advanced, his 
 thoughts again turned upon the best mode of getting rid of his 
 most unwelcome guests, and he arose and dressed, with the full 
 determination of trying what he could do. 
 
 Having tried the effects of an up-stairs shout the morning before, 
 he decided to see what a down one would do ; accordingly, he 
 mounted the stairs and climbed the sort of companion-ladder that 
 led to the servants attics, where he kept a stock of gibbies in the 
 rafters. Having reached this, he cleared his throat, laid his head 
 over the banisters, and putting an open hand on each side of his 
 mouth to direct the sound, exclaimed with a loud and audible voice. 
 
 " Bahtiiolo — m — e—io ! " 
 
 " Bar — THO — LO — m — e — e — iv ! " repeated he, after a pause, 
 with a full seiDaration of the syllables and a prolonged intonatiua 
 of the m — e — iv. 
 
 No Bartholomew answered. 
 
 " MuKRY Ann ! " then hallooed Jog, in a sharper, quicker key. 
 " MuRRY Ann ! " repeated he, still louder, after a pause. 
 
 " Yes, sir ! here, sir ! " exclaimed that invaluable servant, tidy- 
 ing her pink-ribboned cap as she hurried into the passage below. 
 liOoking up, she caught sight of her master's great sallow chaps 
 hanging like a flitch of bacon over the garret banister. 
 
 " Oh, Murry Ann," bellowed Mr. Jog, at the top of his voice, 
 etill holding his hands to his mouth, as soon as he saw her, " Oh, 
 INfuriy Ann, you'd better get the (puff) breakfast ready ; I think 
 the (gasp) Mr. Sponge will be (wheezing) away to day." 
 
 "Yes, sir," replied Mary Ann. 
 
 *' And tell Bartholomew to get his washin' bills in." 
 
 " He harn't had no washin' done," replied Mary Ann, raising 
 lier voice to correspond with that of her master. 
 
 " Then his bill for postage," replied Mr. Jog, in the same tone. 
 
 " He harn't had no letters neither," replied Mary Ann. 
 
 " Oh, then, just get the breakfast ready," rejoined Jog ; adding, 
 *'• he'll be (wheezing) away as soon as he gets it, I (puff") expect."
 
 358 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUP. 
 
 *' Will he,'''' said ilr. Sponge to liimself, as, with throbbing head, 
 he lay tumbling about in bed, alleviating the recollections of the 
 previous day's debauch with an occasional dive into his old friend 
 " Mogg." Corporeally, he was in bed at Puddingpote Bower, but, 
 mentally, he was at the door of the Goose apcl Gridiron, in St. 
 Paul's Churchyard, waiting for the three o'clock buss, coming from 
 the Bank to take him to Isleworth Gate. 
 
 Jog's bellow to "Bartholo — m — b — zf" interrupted the journey, 
 just as in imagination Mr. Sponge was putting his foot on the 
 wheel and hallooing to the driver to hand him the strap to help 
 him on to the box. 
 
 " Will Jie,''^ said Mr. Sponge to himself, as he heard Jog's 
 reiterated assertion that he would be wheezing away that day. 
 " Wish you may get it, old boy," added he, tucking the now 
 backless " ]\Iogg" under his pillow, and turning over for a snooze. 
 
 When he got down, he found the party ranged at breakfast, 
 minus the interesting prodigy, Gustavus James, whom Sponge 
 proceeded to inquire after as soon as he had made his obeisance to 
 his host and hostess, and distributed a round of daubed comfits to 
 the rest of the juvenile party. 
 
 "But Where's my little friend, Augustus James ? " asked he, on 
 arriving at the wonder's high chair by the side of mamma. — 
 " Where's my little friend, Augustus James ? " asked he, with ant 
 air of concern. 
 
 " Oh, Gushivus James," replied Mrs. Jog, with an emphasis on 
 Gustavus ; " Gusiaviis James is not very well this morning ; had u 
 little indigestion during the night." 
 
 "Poor little hound," observed ]\[r. Sponge, filling his mouth 
 with hot kidney, glad to be rid for a time of the prodigy. " I 
 thought I heard a row when I came home, which was rather late 
 for an early man like me, but the fact was, nothing would serve Sir 
 Harry but I should go with him to get some refreshment at a 
 tenant's of his ; and we got on, talking first about one thing, and 
 then about another, and the time slipped away so quickly, that 
 day was gone before I knew where I was ; and though Sir Harry 
 was most anxious — indeed, would hardly take a refusal — for me to 
 go home with him, I felt that, being a guest here, I couldn't do it, — 
 at least, not. then ; so I got my horse, and tried to find my way 
 with such directions as the farmer gave me, and soon lost my way, 
 for the moon was uncertain, and the country all strange both to me 
 and my horse.'"' 
 
 " What farmer was it ? " asked Jog, with the butter streaming 
 down the gutters of his chin from a mouthful of thick toast. 
 
 " Farmer — farmer — farmer, — let me see, what farmer it was," 
 replied Mr. Sponge, thoughtfully, again attacking the kidneys. 
 " Oh, farmer Beanstraw, I should say."
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 350 
 
 " Peastr^iyv, p'raps ? " suggested Jog, colouring up, and staring 
 intently at Mr. Sponge. 
 
 " Pea — Peastraw was the name," replied Mr. Sponge. 
 
 " I know him," said Jog ; " Peastraw of Stoke." 
 
 " Ah, he said he knew you," replied Mr. Sponge. 
 
 " Did he ? " asked Jog, eagerly. " What did he say ? " 
 
 " Say — let me see what he said," replied he, pretending to 
 recollect. " He said ' you are a deuced good feller,' and I'd to 
 make his compliments to you, and to say that there were some nice 
 young ash saplings on his farm that you were welcome to cut." 
 
 " Did he ? " exclaimed Jog ; " I'm sure that's very (puff) polite 
 of him. I'll (wheeze) over there the first opportunity." 
 
 " And what did you make of Sir Harry ? " asked Mrs. Jog. 
 
 "Did you (puflF) say you were going to (wheeze) over to him ? " 
 asked Jog, eagerly. 
 
 " I told him I'd go to him before I left the country," replied 
 ]\Ir. Sponge, carelessly ; adding, " Sir Harry is rather too fast a 
 man for me." 
 
 " Too fast for himself, I should think," observed Mrs. Jog. 
 
 " Fine (puff — wheeze) young man," growled Jog into the bottom 
 of his cup. 
 
 " Have you known him long ? " asked Mrs. Jogglcbury. 
 
 " Oh, we fox-hunters all know each other," replied Mr. Sponge, 
 evasively. 
 
 "Well, now that's what I tell Mr. Jogglcbury," exclaimed she. 
 " Mr. Jog's so shy, that there's no getting him to do what ho 
 ought," added the lady. " Xo one, to hear hhn, would think he's 
 the great man he is." 
 
 " Ought (puff) — ought (wheeze)," retorted Jog, puffing furiously 
 into his capacious shirt-frill. " It's one (puff) thing to know (puff) 
 people out with the (wheeze) hounds, and another to go calling 
 them at their (gasp) houses." 
 
 " Well, but, my dear, that's the way people make acquaintance," 
 replied his wife, " Isn't it, Mr. Sponge ? " continued she, appealing 
 to our friend. 
 
 " Oh, certainly," replied Mr. Sponge, " certainly ; all men are 
 equal out hunting." 
 
 " So I say," exclaimed Mrs. Jogglcbury ; " and yet I can't get 
 Jog to call on Sir George Stiff, though he meets him frequently out 
 hunting." 
 
 "Well, but then I can't (puff) upon him out hunting (wheeze), 
 and then we're not all equal (gasp) when we go home." 
 
 So saying, our friend rose from his chair, and after giving each 
 leg its usual shake, and banging his pockets behind to feel that he 
 had his keys safe, he strutted consequentially up to the window to 
 see how the day looked.
 
 530 
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPOETING TOUR. 
 
 Mr. Sponge, not being desirous of continuing the " calling " 
 controversy, especially as it might lead to inquires relative to his 
 acquaintance with Sir Harry, finished the contents of his plate 
 quickly, drank up his tea, and was presently alongside of his host, 
 asking him whether he " was good for a ride, a walk, or what ? " 
 
 " A (puff) ride, a (wheeze) walk, or a (u'asp) what ? " repeated 
 Jog, thoughtfully. " Xo, I (puff) think ill stay at (puff) home," 
 thinking that would be the safest plan. 
 
 " Ord, hang it, you'll never lie at earth such a day as this ! " 
 exclaimed Sponge, looking out on the bright, sunny landscape. 
 
 " Got a great deal to do," retorted Jog, who, like all thoroughly 
 idle men, was always dreadfully busy. He then dived into a 
 bundle of rough sticks, and proceeded to select one to fashion into 
 the head of Mr. Hume. Sponge, being unable to make anything 
 of him, was obliged to exhaust the day m the stable, and iu 
 sauntering about the country. It was clear Jog was determined to 
 be rid of him, and he was sadly puzzled what to do. Dinner found 
 liis host in no better humour, and after a sort of Quaker's meeting 
 of an evening, they parted heartily sick of each other. 
 
 CHAPTER L. 
 
 T]IE TRIGGER. 
 
 ^;M^^' 
 
 JOG slept badly 
 again, and 
 arose next 
 morning full 
 of projects for 
 getting rid of 
 his impudent, 
 unceremoni- 
 - ous, free-and- 
 easy guest. 
 
 Having tried 
 both an up 
 and a down- 
 stairs shout, he 
 now went out 
 and planted 
 
 himself immediately under ]\Ir. Sponge's bedroom window, and, 
 clearing his voice, commenced his usual vociferations. 
 
 " Bartholo — 7n — e — ic ! " whined he. " Bariholo — m — e — lu I " 
 
 
 ^^'n?:^i^^ 
 
 :.1R. SrONGE GIVES PONTO A LESSON.
 
 3IE. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUP. CCA 
 
 rcpsated he, somewliafc louder, " Bar — tholo — m — e — to ! " 
 roared he, in a voice of thunder. 
 Bartholomew did not answer. 
 
 " Murry Ann ! " exclaimed Jog, after a pause. " Marry Ann ! " 
 repeated he, still louder. " Murry Ann ! " roared he, at the top 
 of his voice. 
 
 " Comin', sir! comin' !" exclaimed Mary Ann, peeping down 
 upon him from the garret-window. 
 
 " Oh, Murry Ann," cried Mr. Jog, looking up, and catching the 
 ends of her blue ribbons streaming past the window-frame, as she 
 changed her nightcap for a day one, — " Oh, Murry Ann, you'd 
 better be (pufF)in' forrard with the (gasp) brealvfast ; Mr. Sponge 
 "■jl most likely be (wheczc)in' away to-day." 
 
 "Yes, sir," replied Mary Ann, adjusting the cap becomingly. 
 
 " Confounded, puffing, wheezing, gasping, broken-winded old 
 blockhead it is !" growled Mr. Sponge, wishing he could get to 
 I lis former earth at Puffington's, or anywhere else. "When he got 
 down he found Jog in a very roomy, bright, green-plush shooting- 
 jacket, with pockets innumerable, and a whistle suspended to a 
 iiutton-hole. His nether man was encased in a ]3air of most 
 dilajDidatcd white moleskins, that had been degraded from hunting 
 into shooting ones, and whose cracks and darns showed the perils 
 to which their wearer had been exposed. Below these v/cre drab, 
 horn-buttoned gaiters, and hob-nailed shoes. 
 
 "Going a-ganning, are you.?" asked Mr. Sponge, after the 
 morning salutation, which Jog returned most gruffly. 
 
 " I'll go with yon," said Mr. Sponge, at once dispelling the de- 
 lusion of his wheezing away. 
 
 " Only going to frighten the (pufF) rooks off the (gasp) wheat," 
 replied Jog, carelessly, not wishing to let Sponge sec what a numb 
 hand he was with a gun. 
 
 "I thought you told me you were going to get me a hare," 
 observed Mrs. Jog ; adding, " I'm sure shooting is a much more 
 s'ational amusement than tearing your clothes going after the 
 hounds," eyeing the much-dilapidated moleskins as she spoke. 
 
 Mrs. Jog found shooting more useful than hunting. 
 
 " Oil, if a (puff) hare comes in my (gasp) way, I'll turn her 
 over," replied Jog, carelessly, as if turning them over was quite a 
 nuitter of course with him ; adding, " but I'm not (wheezing) out 
 for the express purpose of shooting one." 
 
 " Ah, well," observed Sponge, " I'll go with you, all the same." 
 
 " But I've only got one gun," gasped Jog, thinking it would be 
 worse to have Sponge laughing at his shooting than even leaving 
 him at home. 
 
 " Then, we'll shoot turn and turn about," replied the pertinacious 
 guest.
 
 362 3IR. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUB. 
 
 Jog did his best to dissuade him, observing that the birds were 
 (pufl) scarce and (wheeze) wild, and the (gasp) hares much 
 troubled with poachers ; but Mr. Sponge wanted a walk, and 
 moreover had a fancy for seeing Jog handle his gun. 
 
 Having cut himself some extremely substantial sandwiches, and 
 filled his " monkey " full of sherry, our friend Jog slipped out the 
 back way to loosen old Ponto, who acted the triple part of pointer, 
 house-dog, and horse to Gustavus James. He was a great fat, 
 black-and-white brute, with a head like a hat-box, a tail like a 
 clothes-peg, and a back as broad as a well-fed sheep's. The old 
 brute was so frantic at the sight of his master in his green coat, 
 and wide-awake to match, that he jumped and bounced, and 
 barked, and rattled his chain, and set up such yells, that his noise 
 sounded all over the house, and soon brought Mr. Sponge to the 
 scene of action, where stood our friend, loading his gun and looking 
 as consequential as possible. 
 
 " I shall ouly just take a (puff) stroll over moy (wheeze) ter-ri- 
 to-ry," observed Jog, as Mr. Sponge emerged at the back door. 
 
 Jog's pace was about two miles and a half an hour, stoppages 
 included, and he thought it advisable to prepare Mr. Sponge for 
 the trial. He then siiouldered his gun and waddled away, first 
 over the stile iuto Farmer Stiiiland's stubble, round which Ponto 
 ranged in the most riotous, independent way, regardless of Jog's 
 whistles and rates, and the crack of his little knotty whip. Jog- 
 then crossed the old pasture into Mr. Lowland's turnips, into 
 which Ponto dashed in the same energetic way, but these impedi- 
 ments to travelling soon told on his great buttermilk carcass, 
 and brought him to a more subdued pace ; still, the dog had a 
 good deal more energy than his master. Round he went, sniffing- 
 and hunting, then dashing right through the middle of the field, 
 as if he was out on his own account alone, and had nothing 
 whatever to do with a master. 
 
 " Why, your dog'll spring all the birds out of shot," observed 
 Mr. Sponge ; and, just as he spoke, ivhirr ! rose a covey of 
 partridges, eleven in number, quite at an impossible distance, bub 
 Jog blazed away all the same. 
 
 " Ord rot it, man ! if you'd only held your (something) tongue,'* 
 growled Jog, as he shaded the sun from his eyes to mark them 
 down, " I'd have (wheezed) half of them over." 
 
 " Nonsense, man ! " replied Mr. Sponge. " They were a mile 
 out of shot." 
 
 " I think I should know my (puff) gun better than (wheeze) 
 you," replied Jog, bringing it down to load. 
 
 " They're down ! " exclaimed Mr. Sponge, who, having watched 
 them till they began to skim in their flight, saw them stop, flnp 
 their wings, and drop among some straggling gorse on the hiU
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPOBTIKG TOUR. 
 
 363 
 
 before them. " Let's break the covey ; we shall Ikvj: them better 
 singly." 
 
 "Take time (puff)," replied Jog, snorting into his frill, and 
 measuring out his powder most leisurely. " Take time (wheeze)," 
 repeated he ; " they're just on the bounds of moy ter-ri-to-ry." 
 
 Jo'>- had had many a game at romps with these birds, and knew 
 their'' haunts and habits to a nicety. The covey consisted of 
 thirteen at first, but by repeated blazings into the " brown of 'em," 
 lie had succeeded in knocking down two. Jog was not one of your 
 conceited shots, who never fired but when ho was sure of killing ; 
 
 I'TtANTIC DELIGHT OK I'ONTO. 
 
 on the contrary, he always let drive far or near ; and even if he 
 shot a hare, which he sometimes did, Avith the first barrel, he 
 always popped the second into her, to make sure. The chairman's 
 shooting afforded amusement to the neighbourhood. On one 
 occasion a party of reapers, having Avatched him miss twelve shots 
 in succession, gave him three cheers on coming to the thirteenth. 
 — But to our day. Jog had now got his gun reloaded with mis- 
 chief, the cap put on, and all ready for a fresh start. Ponto, 
 meanwhile, had been ranging. Jog thinking it better to let him 
 take the edge off his ardour than conform to the strict rules of 
 lying down or coming to heel. 
 
 *' Now, let's on," cried Mr. Sponge, stepping out quickly.
 
 5«4 ME. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 " Take time (puff), take time (wheeze)," gasped Jog, waddling 
 along ; " better let 'em settle a little (puff). Better let 'em settle 
 a little (gasp)," added he, labouring on. 
 
 " Oh no, keep them moving," replied Mr. Sponge, — "keep them 
 moving. Only get at 'em on the hill, and drive 'era into the fields 
 below, and we shall have rare fan." 
 
 " But the (puff) fields below are not mine," gasped Jog. 
 
 " Whose are they ? " asked Mr. Sponge. 
 
 " Oh (puff), Mrs. Moses's," gasped Jog. " My stoopid old 
 uncle," continued he, stopping, and laying hold of Mr. Sponge's 
 arm, as if to illustrate his position, but in reality to get breath, — 
 " my stoopid old uncle (puff) missed buying that (wheeze) land 
 when old Harry Griperton died. I only wanted that to make moy 
 (wheeze) ter-ri-to-ry extend all the (gasp) way up to Cockwhistle 
 Park there," continued he, climbing on to a stile they now ap- 
 proached, and setting aside the top stone. " That's Cockwhistle 
 l*ark, up there — just where you see the (puff) windmill — then 
 (putt*) moy (wheeze) ter-ri-to-ry comes up to the (wheeze) fallow 
 you see all yellow with runch ; and if my old (puff) uncle (wheeze) 
 CroAvdey had had the sense of a (gasp) goose, he'd have (wheezed) 
 tliat when it was sold. Moy (puff") name was (wheeze) Joggle- 
 bury," added he, '' before my (gasp) uncle died." 
 
 " Well, never mind about that," replied Mr. Sponge ; " let us 
 go on after these birds." 
 
 " Oh, we'll (putt) up to them presently," observed Jog, labouring 
 away, with half a ton of clay at each foot, the sun having dispelled 
 the frost where it struck, and made the land carry. 
 
 " PresentJij I " retorted Mr. Sponge. " But you should make 
 haste, man." 
 
 " Well, but let me go my own (puff) pace," snapped Jog, 
 labouring away. 
 
 "Pace ! " exclaimed Mr. Sponge, "your own crawl, you should 
 sny." 
 
 " Indeed ! " growled Jog, with an angry snort. 
 
 They now got through a well-established cattle-gap into a very 
 rushy, squashy, gorse-grown pasture, at the bottom of the rising 
 ground on which Mr. Sponge had marked the birds. Ponto, 
 whose energetic exertions had been gradually relaxing, until he 
 had settled down to a leisurely hunting-dog, suddenly stood trans- 
 fixed, with the right foot up, and his gaze settled on a nishy tuft. 
 
 " P-o-o-n-io ! " ejaculated Jog, expecting every minute to see 
 him dash at it. " P-o-o-n-io ! " repeated he, raising his hand. 
 
 Mr Sponge stood on the tip-toe of expectation ; Jog raised his 
 wide-awake hat from his eyes, and advanced cautiously with the 
 engine of destruction cocked. Up started a great hare ; Mng ! 
 went the gun with the hare none the worse. Bang I went the
 
 3TE. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUR. 0C5 
 
 other barrel, ■which the hare acknowledged by two or three 
 stottin*}: bounds and an increase of pace. 
 
 " Well missed ! " exclaimed Mr. Sponge. 
 
 Away went Ponto in pursuit. 
 
 ^^ P-o-o-n-to ! " shrieked Jog, stamping with r.ngo, 
 
 " I could have wiped your nose," exclaimed Mr. Sponge, cover- 
 ing the hare with a hedge-stake placed to his shoulder like a gun. 
 
 " Could you ? " growled Jog ; " 'spose you wipe your own," 
 added he, not understanding the meaning of the term. 
 
 Meanwhile, old Ponto went rolling away most energetically, tlie 
 farther he went the farther he was left behind, till the hare 
 having scuttled out of sight, he wheeled about and came leisurely 
 back, as if he was doing all right. 
 
 Jog was very wrath, and vented his anger on the dog, wdiich, 
 he declared, had caused him to miss, vowiug, as he rammed awny 
 at the charge, that he never missed such a shot before. ]\Ir. 
 Sponge stood eyeing him with a look of incredulity, thinking that 
 a man who could miss such a shot could miss anything. They 
 were now all ready for a fresh start, and Ponto, having pocketed 
 his objurgation, dashed forward again up the rising ground over 
 which the covey had dropped. 
 
 Jog's thick wind was a serious impediment to the expeditious 
 mounting of the hill, and the dog seemed aware of his infirmity, 
 and to take pleasure in aggravating him. 
 
 " P-o-o-n-to ! " gasped Jog, as he slipped, and scrambled, and 
 toiled, sorely impeded by the incumbrance of his gun. 
 
 But P-o-o-n-to heeded him not. He knew his master couldn't 
 catch him, and if he did, that he durstn't flog him. 
 
 " P-o-o-n-to ! " gasped Jog again, still louder, catchino- at a l)nsh 
 to prevent his slipping back. " T-o-o-h-o-o ! P-o-o-n-io ! " wheezed 
 he ; but the dog just rolled his great stern, and bustled about 
 more actively than ever. 
 
 " Hang ye ! but I'd cut you in two if I had you ! " exclaimed 
 Mr. Sponge, eyeing his independent jDroceedings. 
 
 "He's not a bad (puff) dog," observed Jog, mopping the 
 perspiration from his brow. 
 
 " He's not a good 'un," retorted Mr. Sponge. 
 
 " D'ye think not (wheeze) ? " asked Jog. 
 
 '•'Sure of it," replied Sponge. 
 
 " Serves me," growled Jog, labouring up the hill. 
 
 " Easy served," replied Mr. Sponge, whistling, and eyeing the 
 independent animal. 
 
 " T-o-o-h-o-o ! P-o-o-n-io ! " gasped Jog, as he dashed forward 
 on reaching level ground more eagerly than ever. 
 
 ''P-o-o-n-io! T-o-o-li-o-o I '''' repeated he, in a still louder tone. 
 ■with the same success.
 
 3C3 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 " You'd better get up to him," observed Mr. Sponge, " or he'll 
 spring all the birds." 
 
 Jog, however, blundered on at his own pace, growling — 
 
 " Most (puff) haste, least (wheeze) speed." 
 
 The dog was now fast drawing upon where the birds lit ; and 
 Mr. Sponge and Jog having reached the top of the hill, Mr. Sponge 
 stood still to watch the result. 
 
 Up whirred four birds out of a patch of gorse behind the dog, 
 all presenting most beautiful shots. Jog blazed a barrel at them 
 without touching a feather, and the report of the gun immediately 
 raised three brace more, into the thick of which he fired with 
 similar success. They all skimmed away unhurt. 
 
 " Well missed ! " exclaimed Mr. Sponge again. " You're what 
 they call a good shooter but a bad hitter." 
 
 " You're what they call a (wheeze) fellow," growled Jog 
 
 He meant to say " saucy " but the word wouldn't rise. He 
 then commenced re-loading his gun, and lecturing P-o-o-n-to, who 
 still continued his exertions, and inwardly anathemati&ing Mr. 
 Sponge. He wished he had left him at home. Then recollecting 
 Mrs. Jog, he thought perhaps he was as well where he was. 
 Still his presence made him shoot worse than usual, and there was 
 no occasion for that. 
 
 " Let me have a shot now," said Mr. Sponge. 
 
 " Shot (puU") — shot (wheeze) ; well, take a shot if you choose," 
 replied he. 
 
 Just as ]Mr. Sponge got the gun, up rose the eleventh bird, and 
 he knocked it over. 
 
 " ThaVs the way to do it ! " exclaimed Mr. Sponge, as the bird 
 fell dead before Ponto. 
 
 The excited dog, unused to such descents, snatched it up and 
 ran oflF. Just as he was getting out of shot, Mr. Sponge fired the 
 other barrel at him, causing him to drop the bird and run yelping 
 and howling away. Jog was furious. He stamped, and gasped, 
 and fumed, and wheezed, and seemed like to burst with anger and 
 indignation. Though the dog ran away as hard as he could lick, 
 Jog insisted that he was mortally wounded, and would die. " He 
 never saw so (wheeze) a thing done. He wouldn't have taken 
 twenty pounds for the dog. Ko, he wouldn't have taken thirty. 
 Forty wouldn't have bought him. He was worth fifty of anybody's 
 money," and so he wenc on, fuming and advancing his value as 
 he spoke. 
 
 Mr. Sponge stole away to where the dog had dropped the bird ; 
 and !Mr. Jog, availing himself of his absence, retraced his steps 
 down the hill, and struck off home at a much faster pace than he 
 came. Arrived there, he found the dog in the kitchen, somewhat 
 sore from the visitation of the shot, but not sufficiently injured to
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 567 
 
 prevent his enjoyins: .a most liberal plate of stick-jaw puddinir, 
 supplied by a general contribution of the servants. Jog's "wrath 
 was then turned in another direction, and he blew up for the -waste 
 jind extravagance of tlie act, hinting pretty freely that he knew 
 who it was that had set them against it. Altogether he was full 
 of troubles, vexations, and annoyances ; aud after spending 
 another most disagreeable evening with our friend Sponge, went 
 to bed more determined than ever to get rid of him. 
 
 CHAPTER LI. 
 
 NONSUCH HOUSE AGAIN. 
 
 DOMESTIC ECONOMY OF NONSUCH HOUSE. 
 
 Poor Jog again varied his hints the next morning. After 
 sundry prefatory " ]\Iurry Anns ! " and " Bar-tho-lo-j»(?2<'i- / " he at 
 length got the latter to answer, when, raising his voice so as to fill 
 the whole house, he desired him to go to the stable, and let Mr. 
 Sponge's man know his master would be (wheezing) away. 
 
 " You're wrong there, old buck," growled Leather, as he heard 
 the foregoing ; " he's half way to Sir 'Arry's by this time." 
 
 And, sure enough, Mv. Sponge was, as none knew better than 
 Leather, who had got him his horse, the hack being indisposed, — 
 that is to say, having been out all night with Mv. J weather on a 
 •drinking excursion, Leather having just got home in time to 
 receive the purple-coated, bare-footed runner of A'^onsuch House, 
 who dro^^ped in, en passant, to see if there was anything to stow
 
 3GS BIB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUP. 
 
 away in his roomy tronser-pockets, and leave word that Sir Harry 
 was going to hunt, and would meet before the house. 
 
 Leather, though somewhat muzzy, was sufficiently sober to be 
 able to deliver this message, and acquaint Mr. Sponge with the 
 impossibility of his "ridin' the 'ac." Indeed, ho truly said, that 
 he had " been hup with him all night, and at one time thought ib 
 was all hover with him," the all-overishness consisting of Mr. 
 Leather being nearly all over the hack's head, in consequence of 
 the animal shying at another drunken man lying across the road. 
 
 Mr, Sponge listened to the recital with the indifference of a man 
 who rides hack-horses, and coolly observed that Leather must take 
 on the chestnut, and he would ride the brown to cover. 
 
 " Couldn't, sir, fo?^^??.'^," replied Leather, with a shake of the 
 head and a twinkle of his roguish, watery grey eyes. 
 
 "Why not ? " asked Mr. Sponge, who never saw any difficulty. 
 
 " Oh, sur," replied Leather, in a tone of despondency, " it would 
 be quite unpossible. Consider wot a day the last one was ; why, 
 he didn't get to rest till three the next mornin'." 
 
 " It'll only be walking exercise," observed ]Mr. Sponge ; "do 
 him good." 
 
 "Better valk the chestnut," rciDlied Mr. Leather ; "Multum-in- 
 Parvo hasn't 'ad a good day this I don't know wen, and will be 
 all the better of a bucketin'." 
 
 " But I hate crawling to cover on my horse," replied Mr. Sponge, 
 who liked cantering along with a flourish. 
 
 "You'll 'ave to crawl if you ride 'Ercles," observed Leather, "if 
 not walk. Bless you ! I've been a nussin' of him and the 'ack 
 most the 'ole night." 
 
 " Indeed ! " replied Mr. Sponge, who began to be alarmed lest 
 his hunting might be brought to an abrupt termination. 
 
 "True, as I'm 'ere," rejoined Leather. "He's just as much oil* 
 his grub as he vos wdien he com'd in ; never see'd an 'oss more 
 reg'Iarly dished — more " 
 
 " Well, well," said Mr. Sponge, interrupting the catalogue of 
 grievances ; " I s'pose I must do as you say — I s'pose I must do 
 as you say : what sort of a day is it ? " 
 
 " Vy, the day's not a bad day ; at least, that's to say, it's not a 
 wery haggrivatin' day. I've seen a betterer day, in course ; but 
 I've also seen many a much worser day, and days at this time of 
 year, you know, are apt to change, — sometimes, in course, for the 
 betterer — sometimes, in course, for the worser." 
 
 "/s it a frost? " snapped Mr. Sponge, tired of his loquacity. 
 
 " Is it a frost ?" repeated Mr. Leather, thoughtfully ; "is it a 
 fi'ost ? Yy, no ; I should say it isn't a frost, — at least, not a frost 
 to 'urt ; there may be a little rind on the ground and a little 
 rawness in the hair, but the general concatenation "
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUB. 3G9 
 
 " IToiit, fold ! " exclaimed Mr. Sponge, " let's have none of yoiu* 
 dictionary words." 
 
 Mr. Leather stood silent, twisting his hat about. 
 
 The consequence of all this was, that Mr. Sponge determined 
 to ride over to Nonsuch House to breakfast, which would give his 
 horse half an hour in the stable to cat a feed of corn. Accordingly, 
 he desired Leather to bring him his shaving-water, and have the 
 horse ready in the stable in half an hour, whither, in due time, 
 Mr. Sponge emerged by the back door, without encountering any 
 of the family. The ambling piebald looked so crestfallen and 
 woe-begone in all the swaddling-clothes in which Leather had got 
 him enveloped, that Mr. Sponge did not care to look at the gallant 
 Hercules, who occupied a temporary loose box at the far end of 
 the dark stable, lest he might look worse. He, therefore, just 
 mounted Multum-in-Parvo as Leather led him out at the door, and 
 set off without a word. 
 
 " Well, hang me but you are a good judge of weather," ex- 
 claimed Sponge to himself, as he got into the held at the back of 
 t-he house, and found the horse made little impression on the grass. 
 " No frost I " repeated he, breathing into the air ; " why, it's 
 freezing now, out of the sun.*' 
 
 On getting into Marygold Lane, our fi'iend drew rein, and was 
 for turning back, but the resolute chestnut took the bit between 
 his teeth and shook his head, as if determined to go on. 
 
 " Oh, you Irute ! " growled Mr. S])onge, letting the spurs into 
 his sides with a hearty good-will, which caused the animal to kick, 
 as if he meant to stand on his head. " Ah, you will, will ye ? " 
 exclaimed Mr. Sponge, letting the spurs in again as the animal 
 replaced his legs on the ground. Up they went again, if possible 
 higher than before. 
 
 The brute was clearly full of mischief, and even if the hounds 
 did not throw off, which there was little prospect of their doing 
 from tJie appearance of the weather, Mr. Sponge felt that it woulp 
 be well to get some of the nonsense taken out of him ; and, 
 moreover, going to Nonsuch House, would give him a chance of 
 establishing a billet there — a chance that he had been deprived of 
 by Sir Harry's abrupt departure from Farmer Pcastraw's. So 
 saying, our friend gathered his horse togethei", and settling himself 
 in his saddle, made his sound hoofs ring upon the hard road. 
 
 " He mcuj hunt," thought Mr. Sponge, as he rattled along ; 
 " such a rum beggar as Sir Harry may think it fun to go out in 
 a frost. It's hard, too," said he, as he saw the poor turnip- 
 pullers enveloped in their thick shawls, and w'atched them thump- 
 ing their arms against their sides to drive the cold from their 
 finger ends. 
 
 Multum-in-Parvo was a good sound-constitutioned horse, hard
 
 370 MB. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUB, 
 
 and firm as a cricket-ball, a horse that Avould not turn a hair for a 
 trifle even on a hunting mornino;, let alone on such a thorough 
 chiller as this one was ; and Mr. Sponge, after going along at a 
 good round pace, and getting over the ground much quicker than 
 he did when the road was all new to him, and he had to ask his 
 way, at length drew in to see what o'clock it was. It was only 
 half-past nine, and already in the far distance he saw the encircling 
 ^voods of jSTonsuch House. 
 
 "Shall be early," said Mr. Sponge, returning his watch to his 
 waistcoat-pocket, and diving into his cutty coat-pocket for the 
 cigar-case. Having struck a hght, he now laid the rein on the 
 horse's neck and proceeded leisurely along, the animal stepping 
 gaily and throwing its head about as if he was the quietest, most 
 trustworthy nag in the world. If he got there at half-past ten, 
 Mr. Sponge calculated he would have plenty of time to see after his 
 horse, get his own breakfast, and see how the land lay for a billet. 
 
 It would be impossible to hunt before twelve ; so he went smok- 
 ing and sauntering along, now wondering whether he would be 
 able to establish a billet, now thinking how he would like to sell 
 Sir Harry a horse, then considering whether he would be likely to 
 pay for him, and enlivening the general reflections by ringing his 
 spurs against his stirrup-irons. 
 
 Having passed the lodges at the end of the avenue, he cocked 
 his hat, twiddled his hair, felt his tie, and arranged for a becoming 
 appearance. The sudden turn of the road brought him full upon 
 the house. How changed the scene ! Instead of the scarlet- 
 coated youths thronging the gravefled ring, flourishing their 
 scented kerchiefs and hunting-whips — instead of buxom Abigails 
 and handsome mistresses hanging out of the windows, flirting and 
 chatting and ogling, the door was shut, the blinds were down, the 
 shutters closed, and the whole house had the appearance of 
 mourning. 
 
 Mr. Sponge reined up involuntarily, startled at the change of 
 scene. What could have happened ! Could Sir Plarry be dead ? 
 Could my lady have eloped ? "Oh, that horrid Bugles ! " thought 
 he ; " he looked like a gay deceiver." And Mr. Sponge felt as if 
 he had sustained a personal injury. 
 
 Just as these thoughts were passing in his mind, a drowsy, 
 slatternly charwoman, in an old black straw bonnet and grey bed- 
 gown, opened one of the shutters, and throwing up the sash of 
 the window by where Mr. Sponge sat, disclosed the contents of 
 the apartment. The last waxlight Avas just dying out in the 
 centre of a splendid candelabra on the middle of a table scattered 
 about with claret-jugs, glasses, decanters, pine-apple tops, grape- 
 dishes, cakes, anchovy-toast plates, devilled biscuit-racks — all the 
 concomitanis of a sumptuous entertainment.
 
 MB. SPONGJS'S SPORTING TOUR. 371 
 
 "Sir Harry at home ? " asked Mr. Sponge, making- the woman 
 sensible of his presence, by cracking his whip close to her ear. 
 
 " No," replied the dame, gruffly, commencing an assault upon 
 the nearest chair with a duster. 
 
 " Where is he ? " asked our friend. 
 
 *' Bed, to be sure," replied the woman, in the same tone. 
 
 " Bed, to be sure," repeated Mr. Sponge. *' I don't think there's 
 any ' sure ' in the case. Do you know what o'clock it is ? " asked he. 
 
 " No," replied the woman, flopping away at another chair, and 
 arranging the crimson velvet curtains on the holders. 
 
 Mr. Sponge was rather nonplussed. His red coat did not 
 command the respect that a red coat generally does. The fact 
 was, they had such queer people in red coats at Nonsuch House, 
 that a red coat was rather an object of suspicion than otherwise. 
 
 " Well, but my good woman," continued Mr. Sponge, softening 
 his tone, "can you teU me where I shall find anybody who can tell 
 me anything about the hounds ? " 
 
 " No," growled the woman, still flopping, and whisking, and 
 knocking the furniture about. 
 
 '• I'll remember you for your trouble," observed Sir. Sponge, 
 diving his right hand into his breeches' pocket. 
 
 " Mr. Bottleends be gone to bed," observed the woman, now 
 ceasing her evolutions, and parting her grisly, disordered tresses, 
 as she advanced and stood staring, with her arms akimbo, out of 
 the window. She was the under-housemaid's deputy ; all the 
 servants at Nonsuch House doing the rough of their work by 
 deputy. Lady Scattercash was a real lady, and liked to have the 
 credit of the house maintained, which of course can only be done 
 by letting the upper servants do nothing. " Mr. Bottleends bo 
 gone to bed," observed the woman. 
 
 " Mr. Bottleends ? " repeated Mr. Sponge ; " who's he ? " 
 
 "The butler, to be sure," replied she, astonished that any person 
 should have to ask who such an important personage was. 
 
 " Can't you call him ? " asked Mr. Sponge, still fumbling in his 
 pocket. 
 
 " Couldn't, if it was ever so," replied the dame, smoothing her 
 dirty blue-checked api'on with her still dirtier hand. 
 
 " Why not ? " asked Mr. Sponge. 
 
 " Whi/ not ? " repeated the woman ; " why, 'cause Mr. Bottleends 
 won't be disturbed by no one. He said when he went to bed that 
 he hadn't to be called till to-morrow." 
 
 " Not called till to-morrow ! " exclaimed Mr. Sponge ; " then is 
 Sir Harry from home ? " 
 
 " From home, no ; what should put that i' your head ? " sneered 
 the woman. 
 
 " AVhy, if the butler's in bed, one may suppose the master's away." 
 
 BB 2
 
 372 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTINa TOUB. 
 
 "■Hovl!'" snapped the woman; "Sir Harry's i' bed— Captin 
 Seedeyhnck'.s i' bed — Captin Quod's i' bed — Captin Spaiijile's i' 
 bed — Captin Bouncey's i' bed — Captin Cutitfat's i' bed^they're 
 all i' bed 'cept me, and I've got the house to clean and right, and 
 high time it wtis cleaned and righted, for they've not been i' bed 
 these three nights any on 'em." So saying, she flourislied her 
 duster as if about to set-to again, 
 
 " Well, but tell me," exclaimed Mr. Sponge, " can I see the foot- 
 man, or the huntsman, or the groom, or a helper, or anybody." 
 
 "Deary knows," replied the woman, thoughtfully, resting her 
 chin on her hand. " I dare say they'll be all i' bed too." 
 
 " But they are going to hunt, arn't they ? " asked our friend. 
 
 " Hunt! " exclaimed the woman ; " what should put that i' your 
 head." 
 
 " Why, they sent me word they were." 
 
 "It'll be i'bed then," observed she, again giving symptoms of 
 a desire to return to her dusting. 
 
 Mr. Sponge, who still kept his hand in his pocket, sat on his 
 horse in a state of stupid bewilderment. He had never seen a case 
 of this sort before — a house shut up, and a master of hounds in 
 bed when the hounds were to meet before the door. It couldn't 
 be the case : the woman must be dreaming, or drunk, or both. 
 
 "AVell, but my gocd woman," exclaimed he, as she gave a 
 punishing cut at the chair, as if to make up for lost time ; " well, 
 hut my good woman, I wish you would try and find somebody who 
 can tell me something about the hounds. I'm sure they must be 
 going to hunt. I'll remember you for your trouble, if you will,'" 
 added he, again diving his hand up to the wrist in his pocket, 
 
 " I tell you," replied the woman slowly and deliberately, 
 " there'll be no huntin' to day. Huntin' ! " exclaimed she ; " how 
 can they hunt Avhen they've all hnd to be carried to bed." 
 
 " Cari'ied to bed ! had they ? " exclaimed Mr. Sponge ; " what, 
 were they drunk ? " 
 
 " Drunk ! aye, to be sure. What would you have them be ? " 
 replied the crone, who seemed to think that drinking was a 
 necessary concomitant of hunting. 
 
 " Well, but I can see the footman or somebody, surely," 
 observed Mr. Sponge, fearing that his chance was out for a billet, 
 and recollecting old Jog's " Bartholo-??i-f-?rs .' " and " Murry 
 Anns ! " and intimations for him to start. 
 
 "'Deed you can't," replied the dame — "ye can see nebody but 
 me," added she, fixing her twinkling eyes intently upon him as she 
 spoke. 
 
 " Well, that's a pretty go," observed Mr. Sponge aloud to him- 
 self, ringing his spurs against his stirrup-irons. 
 
 " Pretty go or ugly go," snapped the woman, thinking it was a
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 373 
 
 reflection on herself, "it's all you'll get;" and tliorcupon slic gave 
 the back of the chair a hearty bastinadoing as if in exemplification 
 of tlie way she would like to serve Mr. Sponge out for the observation. 
 
 " I came here thinking to get some breakfast," observed Mr. 
 Sponge, casting an eye upon the disordered table, and recon- 
 noitring the bottles and the remains of the dessert. 
 
 " Did you," said the woman ; " I wish you may get it." 
 
 " I wish I may," replied he. " If you would manage that for 
 me, just some coffee and a mutton chop or two, I'd remember you," 
 said he, still tantalising her with the sound of the silver in his pocket. 
 
 " Me manish it ! " exclaimed the woman, her hopes again rising 
 at the sound ; " me manish it ! how d'ye think I'm to manish 
 sich things ? " asked she. 
 
 " Why, get at the cook, or the housekeeper, or somebody," replied 
 Mr. Sponge. 
 
 "Cook or housekeeper ! " exclaimed she. "There'll be no cook 
 or housekeeper astir here these many hours yet ; I question," added 
 she, " they get up to-day." 
 
 " "What ! they've been put to bed too, have they ? " asked he. 
 
 " W-h-y no — not zactly that," drawled the woman ; " but when 
 sarvants are kept up three nights out of four, they must make up 
 for lost time when they can." 
 
 " Well," mused Mr. Sponge, " this is a bother, at all events ; 
 get no breakfast, lose my hunt, and perhaps a billet into the 
 bargain. Well, there's sixpence for you, my good woman," said he 
 at length, drawing his hand out of his pocket and handing her the 
 contents through the window ; adding, " don't make a beast of 
 yourself with it." 
 
 " It's nahhut fota-pmce,'' observed the woman, holding it out on 
 the palm of her hand. 
 
 "Ah, well, you're welcome to it whatever it is," replied our 
 friend, turning his horse to go away. A thought then struck him. 
 " Could you get me a pen and ink, think you ? " asked he ; " I 
 want to write a line to Sir Harry." 
 
 "Pen and ink!" replied the woman, who had pocketed the 
 groat and resumed her dusting ; " I don't know where they keep 
 no such things as penses and inkses." 
 
 "Most likely in the drawing-room or the sitting-room, or 
 perhaps in the butler's pantry," observed Mr. Sponge. 
 
 " Well, you can come in and see," replied the woman, thinking 
 there was no occasion to give herself any more trouble for the four- 
 penny-piece. 
 
 Our worthy friend sat on his horse a few seconds staring intently 
 into the dining-room window, thinking that lapse of time might 
 cause the fourpenny -piece to be sufficiently respected to procure 
 him something like directions how to proceed as well to get rid of
 
 374 3IB. SPONGE'S SPOUTING TOUR. 
 
 his horse, as to procnre access to the house, the door of which 
 stood ft-owningly shut. In this, however, he was mistaken, for no 
 sooner had the woman uttered the words, " Well, you can come in 
 and see," than she flaunted into the interior of the room, and 
 commenced a regular series of assaults upon the furniture, throw- 
 ing the hearthrug over one chair back, depositing the fire-irons in 
 another, rearing the steel fender up against the Carrara marble 
 chimney-piece, and knocking things about in the independent way 
 that servants treat unoffending furniture, when master and mistress 
 are comfortably ensconced in bed. "Flop" went the duster again; 
 "bang" went the furniture ; "knock" this chair went against 
 that, and she seemed bent upon putting all things into that happy 
 state of sixes and sevens that characterises a sale of household 
 furniture, when chairs mount tables, and the whole system of 
 domestic economy is revolutionised. Seeing that he was not 
 going to get anything more for his money, our friend at length 
 turned his horse and found his way to the stables by the unerring 
 drag of carriage-wheels. All things there being as matters were 
 in the house, he put the redoubtable nag into a stall, and helped 
 him to a liberal measure of oats out of the well-stored unlocked 
 corn-bin. He then sought the back of the house by the worn 
 flagged-way that connected it with the stables. The back yard 
 was in the admired confusion that might be expected from the 
 woman's account. Empty casks and hampers were piled and 
 stowed away in all directions, while regiments of champagne and 
 other bottles stood and lay about among blacking bottles. Seltzer- 
 water bottles, boot-trees, bath-bricks, old brushes, and stumpt-up 
 besoms. Several pair of dirty top-boots, most of them with the 
 spurs on, were chucked into the shoe-house just as they had been 
 taken off". The kitclien, into which our friend now entered, was 
 in the same disorderly state. Numerous copper pans stood sim- 
 mering on the charcoal stoves, and the jointless jack still revolved 
 on the spit. A dirty slip-shod girl sat sleeping, with her apron 
 thrown over her head, which rested on the end of a table. The 
 open door of the servants' hall hard by, disclosed a pile of dress 
 and other clothes, which, after mopping up the ale and other slops, 
 would be carefully folded and taken back to the rooms of their 
 respective owners. 
 
 " Halloo ! " cried Mr. Sponge, shaking the sleeping girl by the 
 shoulder, which caused her to start up, stare, and rub her eyes in 
 wild affi-ight. " Halloo ! " repeated he, " what's happened you ? " 
 
 " Oh, beg pardon, sir ! " exclaimed she ; " beg pardon," con- 
 tinued she, clasping her hands ; " I'll never do so again, sir ; no, 
 sir, I'll never do so again, indeed I ivoii'tr 
 
 She had just stolen a shape of blanc-mange, and thought she 
 was cauffht.
 
 3IB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 375 
 
 " Then show ine where I'll find pen and ink and paper," replied 
 our friend. 
 
 " Oh, sir, I don't know nothin' about them," rephed the girl ; 
 ^'indeed, sir, / don't;'" thinking it was some other petty larceny 
 he was inquiring about. 
 
 " Well, but you can tell me where to find a sheet of paper, 
 surely ? " rejoined he. 
 
 " Oh, indeed, sir, I can't,''^ replied she ; " I know nothin' about 
 nothin' of the sort." Servants never do. 
 
 " What sort ? " asked Mr. Sponge, wondering at her 
 vehemence. 
 
 " Well, sir, about what you said," sobbed the girl, applying the 
 corner of her dirty apron to her eyes. 
 
 " Hang it, the girl's mad," rejoined our friend, brushing by, and 
 making for the passage beyond. This brought him past the still 
 room, the steward's room, the housekeeper's room, and the butler's 
 pantry. All were in most glorious confusion ; in the latter. Cap- 
 tain Cutitfat's lacquer-toed, lavender-coloured dress-boots were 
 reposing in the silver soup tureen, and Captain Bouncey's varnished 
 pumps were stuffed into a wine-cooler. The last detachment of 
 empty bottles stood or lay about the floor, commingling with 
 boot-jacks, knife-trays, bath-bricks, coat-brushes, candle-end boxes, 
 plates, lanterns, lamp-glasses, oil bottles, corkscrews, wine-strainers 
 — the usual miscellaneous appendages of a butler's pantry. All was 
 still and quiet ; not a sound, save the loud ticking of a timepiece, 
 or the occasional creek of a jarring door, disturbed the solemn silence 
 of the house. A nimble-handed mugger or tramp might have 
 carried off whatever he liked. 
 
 Passing onward, Mr. Sponge came to a red-baized, brass-nailed 
 door, which, opening freely on a patent spring, revealed the fine 
 proportions of a light picture-gallery with which the bright 
 mahogany doors of the entertaining rooms communicated. Opening 
 the first door he came to, our friend found himself in the elegant 
 drawing-room, on whose round bird's-eye-maple table, in the 
 centre, were huddled all the unequalled-lengthed candles of the 
 previous night's illumination. It was a handsome apartment, 
 fitted up in the most costly style ; with rose-colour brocaded satin 
 damask, the curtains trimmed with silk tassel fringe, and 
 ornamented with massive bullion tassels on cornices, Cupids 
 supporting wreaths under an arch, with open carved-work and 
 enrichments in burnished gold. The room, save the muster of the 
 candles, was just as it had been left ; and the richly gilt sofa still 
 retained the indentations of the sitters, with the luxurious do\vii 
 pillows, left as they had been supporting their backs. 
 
 The room reeked of tobacco, and the ends and ashes of cigars 
 dotted the tables and white marble chimney-piece, and the gilt
 
 37G MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 slabs and the finely-flowered Touniay carpet, just as the fires of 
 gipsies dot and disfigure tlie fair face of a country. Costly china 
 and nick-nacks of all sorts were scattered about in profusion. 
 Altogether, it was a beautiful room. 
 
 "No want of money here," said Mr. Sponge to himself, as he 
 eyed it, and thouglit what havoc Gustavus James would make 
 among the ornaments if he had a chance. 
 
 He then looked about for pen, ink, and paper. These were 
 distributed so wide apart as to show the little request they were in. 
 Having at length succeeded in getting Avhat he wanted gathered 
 together, Mr. Sponge sat down on the luxuiious sofa, considering 
 how he should address his host, as he hoped. Mr. Sponge was not 
 a shy man, but, considering the circumstances under which he 
 made Sir Hariy Scattercasli's acquaintance, together with his 
 design upon his hospitality — above all, considering the crew by 
 whom Sir Harry was surrounded — it required some little tact to 
 pave the way without raising the present inmntes of the house 
 against him. There are no people so anxious to protect others from 
 robbery as those who are robbing them themselves. Mr. Sponge 
 thought, and thought, and thought. At last he resolved to write 
 on the subject of the hounds. After sundry attempts on pinlv, 
 blue, and green-tinted paper, he at last succeeded in hitting ott" 
 the following, on yellow : — 
 
 " Nonsuch House. 
 
 " Deati Sir Harry, — / rode over this morning, hearing you 
 were to hunt, and am sorry to find you indisposed. I wish you 
 would drop me a line to Mr. Cron)doy''s, Puddingpote Bower, saying 
 ivhen 7wxt gougo out, as I should much like to liave another looh at 
 your splendid pack, before I leave this country , ivhich I fear will 
 have to he soon. 
 
 " Yours in haste, 
 
 "H. Spoxge. 
 
 " P.S. — / hope you all got safe home the other night from Mr. 
 Pcastiaiv'sr 
 
 Having put this into a richly-gilt and embossed envelope, our 
 friend directed it conspicuously to Sir Harry Scattercash, Bart., 
 and stuck it in the centre of the mantle-piece. He then retraced 
 his steps through the back regions, informing the sleeping beauty 
 he had before disturbed, and who was now busy scouring a pan, 
 that he had left a letter in the drawing-room for Sir Harry, and if 
 she would see that he got it, he (Mr. Sponge) would remember her 
 the next time he came, which he inwardly hoped would be soon. 
 He then made for the stable, and got his horse, to go home, 
 sauntering more leisurely along than one would expect of a man 
 who had not got his breakfast, especially one riding a hack hunter.
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPOETING TOUB. 
 
 oi7 
 
 The truth was, Mr. Sponge did not mncli like the aspect of 
 affairs. Sir Harry's was evidently a desperately " fast " house ; 
 added to which, the guests by whom be was surrounded were 
 clearly of the wide-awake order, who could not spare any pickings 
 for a stranger. Indeed, Mr. Sponge felt tbat they rather cold- 
 shouldered him at Farmer Peastraw's, and were in a greater hurry 
 to be oif when the drag came, than the mere difference between 
 inside and outside seats required. He much questioned whether 
 he got into Sir Harry's at all. If it came to a vote, he tliought 
 he should not. Then, what was he to do ? Old Jog was clearly 
 tired of hira ; and he hud nowhere else to go to. The thought 
 made him stick spurs into the chestnut, and hurry home to 
 Puddingpote Bower, where he endeavoured to soothe his host by 
 more than insinuating that he was going on a visit to Nonsuch 
 House. Jog inwardly prayed that he might. 
 
 CHAPTER LIL 
 
 THE DEBATE. 
 
 IT was just as Mr. Sponge predicted 
 with regard to his admission to Non- 
 such House. The first ])ersou who 
 spied his note to Sir Harry Scattcrcash, 
 was Captain Seedeybuck, who, going 
 into the drawing-room, the day after 
 Mr. Sponge's visit, to look ibr the top 
 of his cigar-case, saw it occupying the 
 centre of the mantel-piece. Having 
 mastered its contents, the Captain 
 refolded and placed it where he found 
 it, with the simple observation to 
 himself of — " that cock won't fight." 
 Captain Quod saw it next, then 
 Captain Bouncey, who told Captain 
 Cutitfat what Avas in it, who agreed 
 with Bouncey that it woukln't do to 
 have IMr. Sponge there. 
 
 Indeed, it seemed agreed on all 
 hands that their party rather wanted 
 weeding than increasing. 
 Thus, in due time, everybody in the 
 house knew the contents of the note save Sir Harry, though none 
 of them thought it worth while telling him of it. On the third 
 
 SIR HARRY OF NONSUCH HOUSE.
 
 378 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TO UP. 
 
 morning, however, as the party were assembling for breakfast, he 
 came into the room reading it. 
 
 " This (hiccup) note ought to have been dehvered before," 
 observed he, holding it up. 
 
 " Indeed, my dear," replied Lady Scattercash, who was sitting 
 gloriously fine and very beautiful at the head of the table, " I don't 
 Icnow anything about it." 
 
 " Who is it from," asked brother Bob Spangles. 
 
 "Mr. (hiccup) Sponge," replied Sir Harry. 
 
 " What a name ! " exclaimed Captain Seedeybuck. 
 
 " Who is he ? " asked Captain Quod. 
 
 " Don't know," replied Sir Harry ; " he writes to (hiccup) about 
 the hounds." 
 
 " Oh, it'll be that brown-booted buffer," observed Captain 
 Bouncey, " that we left at old Peastraw's." 
 
 " No doubt," assented Captain Cutitfat ; adding, " what business 
 has he with the hounds ? " 
 
 " He wants to know when we are going to (hiccup) again," 
 observed Sir Harry. 
 
 " Does he ? " replied Captain Seedeybuck. " That, I suppose, 
 will depend upon Watchorn." 
 
 The party now got settled to breakfast, and as soon as the first 
 burst of appetite was appeased, the conversation again turned upon 
 our friend Mr. Sjionge. 
 
 " AVho is this ]\Ir. Sponge ?" asked Captain Bouncey, the bilhard- 
 marker, with the air of a thorough exclusive. 
 
 Nobody answered. 
 
 "Who's your friend ? " asked he of Sir Harry direct. 
 
 "Don't know," replied Sir Harry, from between the mouthfuls 
 of a highly cayenned grill. 
 
 "P'raps a bolting betting-office keeper," suggested Captain 
 Ladofwax, who hated Captain Bouncey. 
 
 " He looks more like a glazier, I think," retorted Captain 
 Bouncey, with a look of defiance at the speaker. 
 
 "Lucky if he is one," retorted Captain Ladofwax, reddening up to 
 the eyes ; " he may have a chance of repairing somebody's daylights." 
 The captain raising his saucer, to discharge it at his opponent's head. 
 
 " Gently with the cheneij ! " exclaimed Lady Scattercash, who 
 was too much used to such scenes to care about the belligerents. 
 Bob Spangles caught Ladofwax's arm at the nick of time, and 
 saved the saucer. 
 
 " Hout ! you (hiccup) fellows are always (liiccup)ing," exclaimed 
 Sir Harry. " I declare I'll have you both (hiccup)ed over to keep 
 the peace." 
 
 They then broke out into wordy recrimination and abuse, each 
 declaring that he wouldn't stay a day longer in the house if the
 
 3IB. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUR. 379 
 
 other remained ; but as they had often said so before, and still gave 
 110 symptoms of going, their assertion produced little effect upon 
 anybody. Sir Harry would not have cared if all his guests had 
 gone together. Peace and order being at length restored, the 
 conversation again turned upon Mr. Sponge. 
 
 "I suppose we must have another (hiccup) hunt soon," observed 
 Sir Harry. 
 
 " In course," rephed Bob Spangles ; " it's no use keeping the 
 hungry brutes unless you work them." 
 
 "You'll have a bagman, I presume," observed Captain Seedcy- 
 buck, who did not like the trouble of travelling about the country 
 to draw for a fox. 
 
 " Oh, yes," replied Sir Harry ; " Watchorn will manage all that. 
 He's always (hiccup) in that line. We'd better have a hunt soon, 
 and then Mr. (hiccup) Bugles, you can see it." Sir Harry address- 
 ing himself to a gentleman he was as anxious to get rid of as 
 Mr. Jogglebury Crowdey was to get rid of Mr. Sponge. 
 
 " No ; Mr. Bugles won't go out any more," replied Lady 
 Scattercash, peremptorily. " He was nearly killed last time ; " her 
 ladyship casting an angry glance at her husband, and a very loving 
 one on the object of her solicitude. 
 
 " Oh, nought's never in danger ! " observed Bob Spangles. 
 
 " Then yoa can go, Bob," snapped his sister. 
 
 " I intend," replied Bob. 
 
 "Then (hiccup), gentlemen, I think I'll just write this Mr. 
 (hiccup) What's-his-name to (hiccup) over here," observed Sir 
 Harry, " and then he'll be ready for the (hiccup) hunt whenever 
 wo choose to (hiccup) one." 
 
 The proposition fell still-born among the party. 
 
 " Don't you think we can do without him," at last suggested 
 Captain Seedeybuck. 
 
 "/think so," observed the elder Spangles, without looking up 
 from his plate. 
 
 " Who is it ? " asked Lady Scattercash. 
 
 " The man that was here the other morning — the man in the 
 queer chestnut-coloured boots," replied Mr. Orlando Bugles. 
 
 " Oh, I think he's rather good-looking ; I vote we have him," 
 replied her ladyship. 
 
 That was rather a damper for Sir Harry ; but upon reflection, 
 he thought he could not be worse off with Mr. Sponge and Mr. 
 Bugles than he was with Mr. Bugles alone ; so, having finished a 
 poor appetiteless breakfast, he repaired to what he called his 
 " study," and with a feeble, shaky hand, scrawled an invitation to 
 Mr. Sponge to come over to Nonsuch House, and take his chance 
 of a run with his hounds. He then sealed and posted the letter 
 without further to-do.
 
 £80 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 Four days had now elapsed since Mr. Spon.2;e penned his overture 
 to Sir Harry, and each succeeding day satisfied him more of the 
 utter impossibihty of holding on much longer in his then billet at 
 Puddingpote Bower. Not only was Jog coarse and incessant in his 
 hints to him to be off", but Jawleyford-liko he had lowered the 
 standard of entertainment so greatly, that if it hadn't been that 
 Mr. Sponge had his servant and horses kept also, he might as well 
 have been living at his own expense. The company lights were all 
 extinguished ; great, strong-smelling, cauliflower-headed moulds, 
 that were always wanting snufiing, usurped the place of Belmont 
 wax ; napkins were withdrawn ; second-hand table-cloths intro- 
 duced ; marsala did duty for sherry ; and the stick-jaw pudding 
 assumed a consistency that was almost incompatible with articula- 
 tion. 
 
 In the course of this time Sponge wrote to Piiffington, saying if 
 he was better he would return and finish his visit ; but the 
 wary Puff sent a messenger off express with a note, lamenting that 
 he was ordered to Handley Cross for his health, but " pop'lar man" 
 like, hoping that the pleasure of Sponge's company was only 
 deferred for another season. Jawleyford, even Sponge thought 
 hopeless ; and, altogether, he was very much perplexed. He had 
 made a little money, certainly, with his horses ; but a permanent 
 investment of his elegant person, such as he had long been on the 
 look out for, seemed as far off as ever. On the afternoon of the 
 fifth day, as he was taking a solitary stroll about the country, 
 having about made up his mind to be off to town, just as he was 
 crossing Jog's buttercup meadow on his way to the stable, a rapid 
 hang ! bang ! caused him to start, and, looking over the hedge, he 
 saw a brawny-looking sportsoian in brown reloading his gun, with 
 a brace of liver and white setters crouching like statues in the 
 stubble. 
 
 " Seek dead ! " presently said the shooter, Avith a slight wave of 
 his hand ; and in an instant each dog was picking up his bird. 
 
 " I'll have a word with you," said Sponge, " on and off-ing " the 
 hedge, his beat causing the shooter to start and look as if inclined 
 for a run ; second thoughts said Sponge was too near, and he'd 
 better brave it. 
 
 " What sport ? " asked Sponge, striding towards him. 
 
 " Oh, pretty middling," replied the shooter, a great red-headed, 
 freckley-faced fellow, with backward-lying whiskers, crowned in a 
 drab rustic. " Oh, pretty middling," repeated he, not knowing 
 whether to act on the friendly or defensive. 
 
 " Fine day ! " said Sponge, eyeing his fox-maskey whiskers and 
 stout, muscular frame. 
 
 " It is," replied the shooter ; adding, " Just followed my birds 
 over the boundary. No 'fence, I s'pose — no 'fence."
 
 ME. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUE. 3S1 
 
 " Oh, no," said Mr. Sponge. " Jog, I dcs-say, '11 be very glad to 
 see you." 
 
 " Oh, you'll be Mr. Sponge ?" observed the stranger, jumping 
 to a conclusion. 
 
 " I am," replied our hero ; adding, " May I ask irlio I have the 
 honour of addrcs-iiig." 
 
 " My name's Romford — Charley Romford ; everybody knows me. 
 Very glad to make your 'quaintance," tendering Sponge a great, 
 rough, heavy hand. " I was goin' to call upon you," observed the 
 stranger, as he ceased swinging Sponge's arm to and fro like a 
 pump-handle ; "I was goin' to call upon you, to see if you'd come 
 over to Washingforde, and have some shootin' at me Oncle's — 
 oncle Gilroy's, at Queercove Hill." 
 
 ^^ Most luippyr' exclaimed Sponge, thinking it was the very 
 thing he wanted. 
 
 " Get a day with the harriers, too, if you like," continued the 
 shooter, increasing the temptation. 
 
 " Better still ! " thought Sponge. 
 
 " I've only bachelor 'commodation to offer you ; but p'raps you'll 
 not mind roughing it a bit ? " observed Romford. 
 
 " Oh, faith, not I ! " replied Sponge, thinking of the luxuries of 
 PufRngton's bachelor habitation. " What sort of stables have you ? " 
 asked our friend. 
 
 " Capital stables — excellent stables ! " replied the shooter ; 
 "stalls six feet in the clear, by twelve dip (deep), iron racks, oak 
 stall- posts covered with zinc, beautiful oats, capital beans, 
 splendacious hay — won without a shower ! " 
 
 " Bravo ! " exclaimed Sponge, thinking he had lit on his legs, 
 and might snap his fingers at Jog and his hints. He'd take the 
 high hand, and give Jog up. 
 
 " Fm your man ! " said Sponge, in high glee. 
 
 " When will you come ? " asked Romford. 
 
 " To-morrow ! " replied Sponge, firmly. 
 
 " So be it," rejoined his proferred host ; and, with another hearty 
 swing of the arm, the newly made friends parted. 
 
 Charley Romford, or Facey, as he was commonly called, from his 
 being the admitted most impudent man in the coujitry, was a great, 
 round-faced, coarse-featured, prize-fighting sort of fellow, who lived 
 chiefly by his wits, which he exercised in all the legitimate lines of 
 industry — poaching, betting, boxing, horse-dealing, cards, quoits — 
 anything that came uppermost. That he was a man of enterprise, 
 we need hardly add, when he had formed a scheme for doing our 
 Sponge, — a man that we do not think any of our readers would 
 trouble themselves to try a "plant " upon. 
 
 This impudent Facey, as if in contradiction of terms, was 
 originally intended for a civil engineer ; but having early in life
 
 382 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 voted himself heir to his uncle, Mr. Gilroy, of Qucercove Hill, a 
 great cattle-jobber, with a " small indepeudence of his own " — 
 three hundred a year, perhaps, which a kind world called six — 
 Facey thought he Avould just hang about until his uncle was done 
 with his shoes, and then be lord of Queercove Hill. 
 
 Now, "me Oncle Gilroy," of whom Facey was constantly talking, 
 had a left-handed wife and a promising family in the sylvan retire- 
 ment of St. John's Wood, whither he used to retire after his 
 business in " Smi'fiel' " was over ; so that Facey, for once, was out 
 in his calculations. Gilroy, however, being as knowing as " his 
 nevvey," as he called him, just encouraged Facey in his shooting, 
 fishing, and idle propensities generally, doubtless finding it more 
 convenient to have his fish and game for nothing than to pay for 
 them. 
 
 Facey, having the apparently inexhaustible sum of a thousand 
 pounds, began life as a fox-hunter — in a very small Avay, to be 
 sure — more for the purpose of selling horses than anything else ; 
 but, having succeeded in "doing" all the do-able gentlemen, both 
 with the " Tip and Go " and Cranerfield hounds, his occupation 
 was gone, it requiring an extended field — such as our friend Sponge 
 roamed — to carry on cheating in horses for any length of time, 
 Facey was soon blown, his name in connection with a horse being 
 enough to prevent any one looking at him. Indeed, we question 
 that there is any less desirable mode of making, or trying to make 
 money, than by cheating or even dealing in horses. Many people 
 fancy themselves cheated, whatever they get ; while the man who 
 is really cheated never forgets it, and proclaims it to the end of 
 time. "Moreover, no one can go on cheating in horses for any length 
 of time, without putting himself in the power of his groom ; and 
 let those who have seen how servants lord it over each other say 
 how they would like to subject themselves to similar treatment. — 
 But to our story. 
 
 Facey Eomf ord had now a splendid milk-white horse, well-known 
 in Mr. Nobbington's and Lord Leader's hunts as Mr. Hobler, but 
 Avho Facej kindly rechristened the " Nonpareil," Avhich the now 
 rising price of oats, and fiilling state of his finances, made him 
 particularly anxious to get rid of, ere the horse performed the 
 equestrian feat of " eating its head off"." He was a very hunter- 
 like looking horse, but his misfortune consisted in having such 
 shocking seedy toes that he couldn't keep his shoes on. If he got 
 through the first field with them on, they were sure to be off" at the 
 fence. This horse Facey voted to be the very thing for Mr. Sponge, 
 and hearing that he had come into the country to hunt, it occurred 
 to him that it would be a capital thing if he could get him to take 
 Mother Overend's spare bed and lodge with him, twelve shillings 
 a-week being more than Facey liked paying for his rooms. Not
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 383 
 
 that he paid twelve shillings for the rooms alone ; on the contrary, 
 he had a two-stalled stable, with a sort of kennel ibr his pointers, 
 and a sty for his pig into the bargain. This pig, which was eaten 
 many times in anticipation, had at length fallen a victim to the 
 butcher, and Facey's larder was uncommonly well found in black- 
 puddings, sausages, spareribs, and other the component parts of a 
 pig : so that he was in very liospitable circumstances, — at least, in 
 his rough and ready idea of what hospitality ought to be. Indeed, 
 whether he had or not, he'd have risked it, being quite as good at 
 carrying things off with a high hand as Mr. Sponge himself. 
 
 The invitation came most opportunely ; for, worn out with 
 jealousy and watching. Jog had made up his mind to cut to 
 Australia, and when Sponge returned after meeting Facey, JogAvas 
 in the act of combing out an advertisement, offering all that 
 desirable sporting residence called Puddingpote Bower, with the 
 coach-house, stables, and offices thereunto belonging, to let, and 
 announcing that the whole of the valuable household furniture, 
 comprising mahogany, dining, loo, card, and Pembroke tables ; 
 sofa, couch, and chairs in hair seating ; cheffonier, with plate 
 glass ; book-case ; flower-stands ; piano-forte, by Collard and 
 OoUard ; music-stool and Canterbury ; chimney and pier-glasses ; 
 mirror ; ormolu time-piece ; alabaster and wax figures and shades ; 
 China ; Brussels carpets and rugs ; fenders and fireirons ; curtains 
 and cornices ; Venetian blinds ; mahogany four-post, French, 
 and camp bedsteads ; feather beds ; hair mattresses ; mahogany 
 chests of drawers ; dressing-glasses ; wash and dressing-tables; 
 patent shower-bath ; bed and table-linen ; dinner and tea-ware ; 
 warming-pans, &c., would be exposed to immediate and unreserved 
 sale. 
 
 How gratefully Sponge's inquiry if he knew Mr. Romford fell on 
 his ear, as they sat moodily together after dinner over some very 
 low-priced Port. 
 
 " Oh, yes (puff) — oh, yes (wheeze) — oh, yes (gasp) ! Know 
 Charley Romford — Facey, as they call him. He's (puff, wheeze, 
 gasp), heir to old Mr. Gilroy, of Queercove Hill." 
 
 " Just so," rejoined Sjoonge, — " just so ; that's the man, — stout, 
 square-built fellow, with backward-growing whiskers. I'm going 
 to stay with him to shoot at old Gils. "Where does Charley live ? " 
 
 " Live ! " exclaimed Jog, almost choked with delight at the 
 information ; " live ! live ! " repeated he, for the third time ; 
 "lives at (puff, wheeze, gasp, cough), AVashingforde — yes, at 
 Washingforde ; 'bout ten miles from (puff, wheeze) here. When 
 iVyegoV 
 
 " To-morrow," replied Sponge, with an air of offended dignity. 
 
 Jog was so rejoiced that he could hardly sit on his chair. 
 
 Mrs. Jog, when she heard it, felt that Gustavus James's chance
 
 384 3IB. SPONGE'S SPOUTING TOUR. 
 
 of independence was gone ; for well she knew that Jog would never 
 let Sponge come back to the Bower. 
 
 We need scarcely sa}' that Jog was up betimes in the morning, 
 most anxious to forward Mr. Sponge's departure. He offered to 
 allow Bartholomew to convey him and his "traps" in the phaeton 
 — an offer that Mr. Sponge availed himself of as far as his " traps " 
 were concerned, though he preferred cantering over on his piebald 
 to trailing along in Jog's jingling chay. So matters were arranged, 
 and Mr. Sponge forthwith proceeded to put his brown boots, his 
 substantial cords, his superfine tights, his cuttey scarlet, his dress 
 blue saxony, his clean linen, his heavy spurs, and thougli last, not 
 least in importance, his now backless " Mogg," into his solid 
 leather portmanteau, sweeping the surplus of his wardrobe into a 
 capacious carpet-bag. While the guest was thus busy up-stairs, 
 the host wandered about restlessly, now stirring up this person, 
 now hurrying that, in the full enjoyment of the much-coveted 
 departure. His pleasure was, perhaps, rather damped by a running 
 commentary he overheard through the lattice-window of the stable, 
 from Leather, as he stripped his horses and tried to roll up their 
 clothing in a moderate compass. 
 
 " Ord rot your great carcass ! " exclaimed he, giving the roll a 
 hearty kick in its bulgiug-out stomach, on finding that he had not 
 got it as small as he wanted. " Ord rot your great carcass," 
 repeated he, scratching his head and eyeing it as it lay ; " this is 
 all the consequence of your nasty brewers' hapron weshins, — 
 blowin' of one out, like a bladder ! " and, thereupon, he placed his 
 hand on his stomach to feel how his own was. " Never see'd sich 
 a house, or sich an mcfid mean man ! " continued he, stooping and 
 pommelling the package with his fists. It was of no use, he could 
 not get it as small as he wdshed — " Must have my jacket out on 
 you, I do believe," added he, seeing where the impediment was ; 
 "sticks in your gizzard just like a lump of old Puff'-and-blow's 
 puddin' ;" and then he thrust his hand into the folds of the 
 clothing, and pulled out the greasy garment. " Now," said he, 
 stooping again, " I think we may manish ye ;" and he took the 
 roll in his arms and hoisted it on to Hercules, whom he meant to 
 make the led horse, observing aloud, as he adjusted it on the saddle, 
 and whacked it well with his hands to make it lie right, " I ivish 
 it was old Jog — icoulchi't I sarre him out!'''' He then turned his 
 horses round in their stalls, tucked his greasy jacket under the flap 
 of the saddle-bags, took his ash-stick from the crook, and led them 
 out of the capacious door. Jog looked at him with mingled feel- 
 ings of disgust and delight. Leather just gave his old hat flipe a 
 rap with his forefinger as he passed with the horses — a salute that 
 Jog did not condescend to return. 
 
 Having eyed the receding horses with great satisfaction. Jog
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPOBIINa TOUR. 385 
 
 re-entered the house by the kitchens, to have the pleasure of seeing 
 Mr. Sponge off. He found the portmanteau and carpet-bag 
 standing in the passage ; and just at the moment the sound of the 
 phaeton wheels fell on his ear, as Bartholomew drove round from 
 the coach-house to the door. Mr. Sponge was already in the 
 parlour, making his adieus to Mrs. Jog and the children, who 
 were all assembled for the purpose. 
 
 " What, are you goin' ? " (puff) asked Jog, with an air of 
 surprise. 
 
 " Yes," replied Mr. Sponge ; adding, as he tendered his hand, 
 " the best friends must part, you know." 
 
 "Weh (puff), but you'd better have your (wheeze) horse 
 round/' observed Jog, anxious to avoid any overture for a 
 return. 
 
 " Thankee," replied Mr. Sponge, making a parting bow ; " I'll get 
 him at the stable." 
 
 " I'll go with you," said Jog, leading the way. 
 
 Leather had saddled, and bridled, and turned him round in the 
 stall, with one of Mr. Jog's blanket-rugs on, which Mr. Sponge 
 just swept over his tail into the manger, and led the horse out. 
 
 " Adieu ! " said he, offering his hand to his host. 
 
 " Good-bye ! — good (puff) sport to you," said Jog, shaking it 
 heartily. 
 
 Mr. Sponge then mounted his hack, and cocking out his toe, 
 rode off at a canter. 
 
 At the same moment, Bartholomew drove away from the front 
 door ; and Jog, having stood watching the phaeton over the rise 
 of Pennypound Hill, scraped his feet, re-entered his house, and 
 rubbing them heartily on the mat as he closed the sash-door, observed 
 aloud to himself, with a jerk of his head — 
 
 " Well, now, that's the most (puff ) impittent feller I ever saw 
 in my life ! Catch me (gasp) godpapa-hunting again." 
 
 "The fatal invitation to Mr. Sponge having been sent, the question 
 that now occupied the minds of the assembled sharpers at Nonsuch 
 House, was, whether he was a pigeon or one of themselves. That 
 point occupied their very deep and serious consideration. If he was 
 a " pigeon," they could clearly accommodate him, but if, on the 
 other hand, he was one of themselves, it was painfully apparent 
 that there were far too many of them there already. Of course, 
 the subject was not discussed in full and open conclave — they 
 were all highly honourable men in the gross — and it was only in 
 the small and secret groups of those accustomed to hunt together 
 and unburden their minds, that the real truth was elicited. 
 
 "What an ass Sir Harry is, to ask this Mr. Sponge," observed 
 Captain Quod to Captain Seedeybuck, as (cigar in mouth) they 
 paced backwards and forwards under the flagged verandah on the 
 

 
 :^86 MR. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUR. 
 
 west side of the house, on the morning that Sir Harry had 
 announced his intention of asking him. 
 
 " Confounded ass," assented Seedeybuck, from between the whiffs 
 of his cigar. 
 
 " Dash it ! one would think he had more money than he knew 
 what to do with," observed the first speaker, "instead of not 
 knowing where to lay hands on a halfpenny." 
 
 " Soon be tvho-hoop,'''' here observed Quod, with a shake of the 
 head. 
 
 " Fear so," replied Seedeybuck-. " Have you heard anything 
 fresh ? " 
 
 "Nothing particular. The County Court bailiff was here Avith 
 some summonses, which, of course, he put in the fire." 
 
 " Ah ! that's what he always does. He got tired of papering 
 the smoking-room with them," replied Seedeybuck. 
 
 " AYell, it's a pity," observed Quod, spitting as he spoke ; " but 
 what can you expect, eaten up as he is by such a set of rubbish." 
 
 " Shockin'," replied Seedeybuck, thinking how long he and his 
 friend might have fattened there together. 
 
 " Do you know anything of this Mr. Sponge ? " asked Captain 
 Quod, after a pause. 
 
 "Nothin'," replied Seedeybuck, "except what we saw of him 
 here ; but I'm sure he won't do." 
 
 " Well, I think not either," rephed Quod ; " I didn't like his 
 looks — he seems quite one of the Iree-and-easy sort." 
 
 " Quite," observed Seedeybuck, determined to make a set against 
 him, instead of cultivating his acquaintance. 
 
 " This Mr. Sponge won't be any great addition to our party, I 
 think," muttered Captain Bouncey to Captain Cutitfat, as they 
 stood within the bay of the library window, in apparent contem- 
 plation of the cows, but in reality conning the Sponge matter 
 over in their minds. 
 
 " I think not," replied Captain Cutitfat, with an emphasis. 
 
 " Wonder what made Sir Harry ask him ! " whispered Bouncey, 
 adding, aloud, for the bystanders to hear. " That's a fine cow, 
 isn't it ? " 
 
 " Very," replied Cutitfat, in the same key, adding, in a whisper, 
 with a shrug of his shoulders ; " wonder what made him ask half 
 the people that are here ! " 
 
 " The black and white one isn't a bad un," observed Bouncey, 
 nodding his head towards the cows, adding in an undertone ; 
 " most of them asked themselves, I should think." 
 
 " Admiring the cows, Captain Bouncey ? " asked the beautiful 
 and tolerably virtuous Miss Glitters, of the Astley's Royal Amphi- 
 theatre, who had come down to spend a few days with her old 
 friend, Lady Scattercash. " Admiring the cows, Captain
 
 illii. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUB. 387 
 
 Bouncey ? " asked she, sidling her elegant figure between our 
 friends in the bay. 
 
 " We were just saying how nice it would be to have two or 
 three pretty girls, and a sillabub, under those cedars," replied 
 Captain Bouncey. 
 
 " Oh, charming ! " exclaimed Miss Glitters, her dark eyes 
 sparkling as she spoke. " Harriet ! " exclaimed she, addressing 
 herself to a young lady, who called herself Howard, but whose 
 real name was Brown — Jane Brown, — " Harriet ! " exclaimed 
 she, " Captain Bouncey is going to give a fete cJiampcfre under 
 those lovely cedars." 
 
 " Oh, how nice ! " exclaimed Harriet, clapping her hands in 
 ecstasies — theatrical ecstasies at least. 
 
 " It must be Sir Harry," replied the billiard-table man, not 
 fancying being " let in " for anything. 
 
 " Oh! Sir Harry will let us have anything we like, I'm sure," 
 rejoined Miss Glitters. 
 
 " "What is it (hiccup) ? " asked Sir Hai-ry, who, hearing his 
 name, now joined the party. 
 
 " Oh, we want you to give us a dance under those charming 
 cedars," replied the lady, looking lovingly at him. 
 
 "Cedars !" hiccuped Sir Harry, "where do you see any cedars?" 
 
 " Why there," replied Miss Glitters, nodding towards a clump 
 of evergreens. 
 
 " Those are (hiccup) hollies," replied Sir Harry. 
 
 " Well, under the hollies," rejoined Miss Glitters ; adding, " it 
 was Captain Bouncey who said they were cedars." 
 
 " Ah, I meant those beyond," observed the captain, nodding in 
 another direction. 
 
 " Those are (hiccup) Scotch firs," rejoined Sir Harry. 
 
 " Well, never mind what they are," resumed the lady ; " let us 
 have a dance under them." 
 
 " Certainly," replied Sir Harry, who was always ready for any- 
 thing. 
 
 " We shall have plenty of partners," observed Miss Howard, 
 recollecting how many men there were in the house. 
 
 "And another coming," observed Captain Cutitfat, still fretting 
 at the idea. 
 
 " Indeed ! " exclaimed Miss Howard, raising her hands and eye- 
 brows in delight ; "and who is he ? " asked she, with unfeigned glee. 
 
 " Oh such a (hiccup) swell," replied Sir Harry ; " reg'lar 
 Leicestershire man. A (hiccup) Quornite in fact." 
 
 " AVe'll not have the dance till he comes, then," observed Miss 
 Glitters. 
 
 " No more we will," said Miss Howard, withdrawing from tb.c 
 group. 
 
 c c 2
 
 388 
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 MR. FAfEV ROMFORr. 
 
 CHAPTEK LIU. 
 
 FACEY ROMFORD AT HOME. 
 
 WE will now suppose onr distin- 
 gnished Sponge entering the village, 
 or what the natives call the town of 
 Washingforde, towards the close of 
 a short December day, on his 
 arrival from Mr. Jog's. 
 
 " AVhat sort of stables are there ? "' 
 asked he, reining np his hack, as 
 he encountered the brandy-nosed 
 Leather airing himself on the main 
 street. 
 
 " Stables be good enongh^for- 
 age, too," replied the stud groom, — 
 "/w-wided you likes thesittivation." 
 •' Oh, the sittivation '11 be good enough," retorted Sponge, think- 
 ing that, groom-like. Leather was grumbling because he hadn't 
 got the best stables, 
 
 "Well, sir, as you please." replied the man. 
 " AVhy, where are they ? " asked Sponge, seeing there was more^ 
 in Leathers manner than met the eye, 
 
 ^^ Rose and Crown!'" replied Leather, with an emphasis. 
 " Rose and Croivn ! " exclaimed Sponge, starting in his saddle ;: 
 " Rose and Crown ! Why Fm going to stay with Mr. Romford ! " 
 "So he said," rephed*^ Leather ; " so he said. I met him as I 
 com'd in with the osses, and said he to rac, said he, ' You'll find' 
 captle quarters at the Crown ! '" 
 
 " Hie deuce ! " exclaimed Mr. Sponge, dropping the reins on hi& 
 hack's neck ; " the deuce ! " repeated he with a look of disgust. 
 " Why, where does he live ? " 
 
 " 'Bove the saddler's, thonder," replied Leather, nodding to a 
 small bow-windowed white house a little lower down, with the gilt- 
 lettered words : — 
 
 OVEREND, 
 SADDLER AXD HARNESS-MAKEE TO THE QUEEN, 
 
 above a very meagrely stocked shop. 
 
 " The devil ! " replied Mr. Sponge, boiling up, as he eyed the 
 cottage-like dimensious of the place. 
 
 The dialogue was interrupted by a sledge-hammer-like blow on.
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 389 
 
 Sponrre's back, followed by such a proffered hand as could proceed 
 from none but his host. 
 
 " Glad to see yc ! " exclaimed Faccy, swinging Sponge's arm to 
 and fro. " Get off ! " continued he, half dragging him down, 
 " and let's go in ; for it's beastly cold, and dinner '11 be ready in no 
 time ! " 
 
 So saying, he led the captive Sponge down street, like a 
 prisoner, by the arm, and, opening the thin house-door, 
 pushed him up a very straight staircase into a little low cabin-like 
 room, hung with boxing-gloves, foils, and pictures of fighters and 
 ballet girls. 
 
 " Glad to see ye ! " again said Facey, poking the diminutive 
 fire. " 'Axed Nosey Nickel and Gutty Weazel to meet you," 
 continued he, looking at the little " dinner-for-two " table ; " but 
 Nosey's gone wrong in a tooth, and Gutty's away swectheartin'. 
 However, we'll be very cozcy and jolly together ; and if you want 
 to wash your hands, or anything afore dinner, I'll show you your 
 bed-room," continued he, backing Sponge across the staircase 
 landing to where a couple of little black doors opened into rooms, 
 formed by dividing what had been the duplicate of the sitting- 
 room into two. 
 
 " There ! " exclaimed Facey, pointing to Sponge's portmanteau 
 and bag, standing midway between the window and door : — 
 " There ! there are your traps. Yondcr's the washhand-stand. 
 You can put your shavin'-things on the chair below the lookin'- 
 glass 'gainst the wall," pointing to a fragment of glass nailed 
 against the stencilled wall, all of which Sponge stood eyeing with 
 a mingled air of resignation and contempt ; but when Facey 
 pointed to — 
 
 " The chest, contrived a double debt to pay — 
 A bed by night, a chest of drawers by day ;" 
 
 and said that was where Sponge would have to curl himself up, 
 our friend shook his head, and declared he could not. 
 
 " Oh, fiddle ! " replied Facey, " Jack Weatherley slept in it for 
 months, and he's half a hand higher than you — sixteen hands, if 
 he's an inch." And Sponge jerked his head and bit his lips, 
 thinking he was " done " for once. 
 
 " AV-h-o-y, ar thought you'd been a fox-hunter," observed Facey, 
 seeing his guest's disconcerted look. 
 
 " Weh, but bein' a fox-hunter won't enable one to sleep in a 
 band-box, or to shut one's-sclf up like a telescope," retorted the 
 indignant Sponge. 
 
 " Ord hang it, man ! you're so nasty partickler," rejoined 
 Facey ; " you're so nasty partickler. You'll never do to go out 
 duck-shootin' i' your shirt. Dash it, man ! Oncle Gilroy would
 
 390 3IR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 disinherit me if ar was such a chap. However, look sharp," con- 
 tinued he, " if you are goin' to clean yourself ; for dinner'll be 
 ready in no time, indeed, I hear Mrs. End dishin' it up." So 
 saying, Facey rolled out of the room, and Sponge presently heard 
 him pulling off his clogs of shoes in the adjoining one. Dinner 
 spoke for itself, for the house reeked with the smell of fried onions 
 and roast pork. 
 
 Now, Sponge didn't like pork ; and there was nothing but pork, 
 or pig in one shape or another. Spare ribs, liver and bacon, 
 sausages, black puddings, &c., — all very good in their way, but 
 which came with a bad grace after the comforts of Jog's, the 
 elegance of Puffington's, and the early splendour of Jawleyford's. 
 Our hero was a good deal put out, and felt as if he was imposed 
 upon. What business had a man like this to ask him to stay with 
 him — a man who dined by daylight, and ladled his meat Avith a 
 great two-pronged fork ? 
 
 Facey, though he saw Mr. Sponge wasn't pleased, praised and 
 pressed everything in succession down to a very strong cheese ; 
 and as the sUp-shod girl whisked away crumbs and all in the 
 coarse table-cloth, he exclaimed in a most open-hearted air, " Well, 
 now, what shall we have to drink ? " adding, " You smoke, of 
 course — shall it be gin, rum, or Hollands — Hollands, rum, or gin ?" 
 
 Sponge was half inclined to propose wine, but recollecting what 
 sloe-juice sort of stuff it was sure to be, and that Facey, in all 
 probability, would make him finish it, he just rephed, " Oh, I don't 
 care ; 'spose we say gin ? " 
 
 " Gin be it," said Facey rising from his seat, and making for a 
 little closet in the wall, he produced a bottle labelled " Fine 
 London Spirit ; " and, hallooing to the girl to get a few '' Captins " 
 out of the box under his bed, he scattered a lot of glasses about 
 the table, and placed a green dessert-dish for the biscuits against 
 they came. 
 
 Night had now closed in — a keen, boisterous, wintry night, 
 making the pocketful of coals that ornamented the grate peculiarly 
 acceptable. 
 
 " B-o-y Jove, what a night ! " exclaimed Facey, as a blash of 
 sleet dashed across the window as if some one had thrown a hand- 
 ful of pebbles against it. " B-o-y Jove, what a night ! " repeated 
 he, rising and closing the shutters, and letting down the little scanty 
 red curtain. " Let us draw in and have a hot brew," continued 
 he, stirring the fire under the kettle, and handing a lot of cigars 
 out of the table-drawer. They then sat smoking and sipping, and 
 smoking and sipping, each making a mental estimate of the other. 
 
 " Shall we have a game at cards ? or what shall we do to pass 
 the evenin' ? " at length asked our host. " Better have a game 
 at cards, p'raps," continued he.
 
 FACEY ROMFORD TREATS SPONGE TO A LITTLE MUSIC. 
 
 [P. 391.
 
 3IB. SPONGE'S SPORTIN'G TOUR. 391 
 
 " Thank'ee, no ; thank'ec, no, I've a book in my pocket," 
 replied Sponge, diving into his jacket-pocket ; adding, as he fished 
 up his Mogg, " always carry a book of light reading about with 
 me." 
 
 " What, you're a literary cove, are you ? " asked Facey, in a 
 tone of surprise. 
 
 "Not exactly that," replied Sponge; "but I like to improve 
 my mind." He then opened the valuable work, taking a dip into 
 the Omnibus Guide — " Brentford, 7 from Hyde Park Corner — 
 European Coffee House, near the Bank, daily," and so worked his 
 way on through the " Brighton Eailway Station, Brixton, Bromley 
 both in Kent and Middlesex, Bushey Heath, Camberwell, Camden 
 Town, and Carshalton," right into Cheam, when Facey, who had 
 been eyeing him intently, not at all relishing his style of proceeding 
 and wishing to be doing, suddenly exclaimed, as he darted up — 
 
 " B-o-y Jove ! You've not heard me play the flute ! No more 
 you have. Dash it, how remiss ! " continued he, making for the 
 little book-shelf on which it lay ; adding, as he blew into it and 
 sucked the joints, " you're musical, of course ? " 
 
 " Oh, I can stand music," muttered Sponge, with a jerk of his 
 head, as if a tune was neither here nor there with him. 
 
 " By Jingo ! you should see me Oncle Gilroy when a'rna 
 playin' ! The old man act'ly sheds tears of delight — he's so 
 pleased." 
 
 " Indeed," replied Sponge, now passing on into Mogg's Cab Fares 
 — "Aldersgate Street, Hare Court, to or from Bagnigge-Wells," 
 and so on, when Facey struck up the most squeaking, discordant, 
 broken-winded 
 
 " Jump Jim Crow," 
 
 that ever was heard, making the sensitive Sponge shudder, and 
 setting all his teeth on edge. 
 
 " Hang me, but that flute of yours wants nitre, or a dose of 
 physic, or something most dreadful ! " at length exclaimed he, 
 squeezing up his face as if in the greatest agony, as the laboured — 
 
 " Jump about and wheel about " 
 
 completely threw Sponge over in his calculation as to what he 
 could ride from Aldgate Pump to the Pied Bull at Islington for. 
 
 " Oh, no ! " replied Facey, with an air of indifference, as he 
 took off the end and jerked out the steam. " Oh, no — only wants 
 work — only Avants work," added he, putting it together again, 
 exclaiming, as he looked at the now sulky Sponge, " Well, what 
 shall it be ? " 
 
 " Whatever you please," replied our friend, dipping fi-antically 
 into his Mogg.
 
 392 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 "Well, then, I'll play you me onclc's favourite tunc, 'The Merry 
 Swiss Boy,' " whereupon Facey set to most vigorously with that 
 once most popular air. It, however, came off as rnstily as " Jim 
 Crow," for whose feats Facey evidently had a partiality ; for no 
 sooner did he get squeaked through " me oncle's " tune than ho 
 returned to the nigger melody with redoubled zeal, and puffed and 
 blew Sponge's calculations as to what he could ride from " Mother 
 Redcap's at Camden Town down Liquorpond Street, up Snow 
 Hill, and so on, to the "Angel" in Eatcliffe Highway for, clean 
 out of his head. Nor did there seem any prospect of relief, for no 
 sooner did Facey get through one tune than he at the other 
 again. 
 
 " Kot it ! " at length exclaimed Sponge, throwing his " Mogg '" 
 from him in despair, "you'll deafen me with that abominable 
 noise." 
 
 " Bless my heart ! " exclaimed Facey, in well-feigned surprise, 
 " Bless my heart ! Why, I thought you liked music, my dear 
 feller ! " adding, " I was playin' to please you." 
 
 " The deuce you were ! " snapped Mr. Sponge, " I wish I'd 
 known sooner : I'd have saved you a deal of wind." 
 
 " Why, my dear feller," replied Facey, " I wished to entertain you 
 the best in my power. One must do somethin', you know." 
 
 " I'd rather do anything th.an undergo that horrid noise," 
 replied Sponge, ringing his left car with his fore-finger. 
 
 " Let's have a game at cards, then," rejoined Facey, soothingly, 
 seeing he had sufficiently agonised Sponge. 
 
 " Cards," replied Mr. Sponge. " Cards," repeated he, thought- 
 fully, stroking his hairy chin. " Cards," added he, for the third 
 time, as he conned Facey's rotund visage, and wondered if he was 
 a sharper. If the cards were fair. Sponge didn't care trying his 
 luck. It all depended upon that. *' Well." said he, in a tone of 
 indifference, as he picked up his " Mogg," thinking he wouldn't 
 pay if he lost, " I'll give you a turn. What shall it be ? " 
 
 "Oh — w-h-o-y — s'pose we say eca7'te?" replied Facey, in an 
 off-hand sort of w^ay. 
 
 " Well," drawled Sponge, pocketing his " Mogg," preparatory 
 to action. 
 
 " You haven't a clean pack, have you ? " asked S]3onge, as 
 Facey, diving into a drawer, produced a very dirty, thumb-marked 
 set. 
 
 " W-h-o-y, no, I haven't," replied Facey. " W-h-o-y, no I 
 liaven't : but, honour bright, these are all right and fair. Wouldn't 
 cheat a man, if it was ever so." 
 
 " Sure you wouldn't," replied Sponge, nothing comforted by 
 the assertion. 
 
 They then resumed their seats opposite each other at the little
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUE. 393 
 
 table, with the hot water and sugar, and " Fine London Spirit " 
 bottle, equitably placed between them. 
 
 At first Mr. Sponge was the victor, and by nine o'clock had 
 scored eight-and-twenty shillings against liis host, when he was 
 inclined to leave oiF, alleging that he was an early man, and would 
 go to bed — an arrangement than Facey seemed to come into, only 
 pressing Sponge to accompany the gin he was now helping him- 
 self to with another cigar. This seemed all fair and reasonable ; 
 and as Sponge conned matters over, through the benign influence 
 of the " 'baccy," he really thought Facey mightn't be such a bad 
 beggar after all. 
 
 " Well, then," said he, as he finished cigar and glass together, 
 " if you'll give me eight-and-twenty bob, I'll be olf to bedford- 
 sliire." 
 
 " You'll give me my revenge surely ! " exclaimed Facey, in pre- 
 tended astonishment. 
 
 " To-morroiv night,^'' replied Sponge firmly, thinking it would have 
 to go hard witli him if he remained there to give it. 
 
 " Nay, ??o?6' .' " rejoined Facey, adding, " it's quite early. Me 
 Oncle Gilroy and I always play much later at Queercove Hill." 
 
 Sponge hesitated. If he had gob the money, he Avould have 
 refused point-blank; as it was, he thought, perhaps the only 
 chance of getting it was to go on. With no small reluctance and 
 misgivings he mixed himself another tumbler of gin and water, 
 and, changing seats, resumed the game. Nor was our discreet 
 friend far wrong in his calculations, for luck now changed, and 
 Facey seemed to have the king quite at command. In less than 
 an hour he had not only wiped ofl:' the eight-and twenty shillings, 
 but had scored three pound fifteen against his guest. Facey would 
 now leave off. Sponge, on the other hand, wanted to go on. 
 Facey, however, was firm. " I'U cut you double or quits, then," 
 cried Sponge, in rash despair. Facey accommodated him and 
 doubled the debt. 
 
 " Again ! " exclaimed Sponge, with desperate energy. 
 
 " No I no more, thank ye," replied Facey, coolly. " Fair play's 
 a jewel." 
 
 " So it is," assented Mr. Sponge, thinking he hadn't had it. 
 
 *' Now," continued Facey, poking into the table-drawer and pro- 
 ducing a dirty scrap of paper, with a little pocket ink-case, " if 
 you'll give me an ' I.O.U.,' we'll shut up shop." 
 
 " An ' I.O.U ! ' " retorted Sponge, looking virtuously indignant. 
 — " An ' I.O.U ! ' I'll give you your money i' the mornin'." 
 
 " I know you will," replied Facey, coolly, putting himself in 
 boxing attitude, exclaiming, as he measured out a distance, " just 
 feel the biceps muscle of my arm — do believe I could fell an 
 ox. However, never mind," continued he, seeing Sponge
 
 594 
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUR. 
 
 declined the feel. " Life's uncertain : so you give me an * I. 0. U.' 
 and we'll be all right and square. Short reckonin's make long 
 friends, you know," added he, pointing peremptorily to the 
 paper. 
 
 " I'd better give you a cheque at once," retorted Sponge, looking 
 the very essence of chivalry. 
 
 " Money, if you please," replied Facey ; muttering, with a jerk 
 of his head, ''don't lilce 2>aper" 
 
 The renowned Sponge, for once, was posed. He had the money, 
 but he didn't like to part with it. So he gave the 
 
 c/. ^. ?^. 
 
 Seven' 0^oit7vcls d'eiv Sliillincjs. 
 
 W'r ro 0. 
 
 S 
 
 ^pongt 
 
 and, lighting a twelve-to-the-pound candle, sulked off to undress 
 and crawl into the little impossibility of a bed. 
 
 Night, hoAvever, brought no relief to our distinguished friend ; 
 for, little though the bed was, it was large enough to admit lodgers, 
 and poor Sponge was nearly worried by the half-famished vermin, 
 who seemed bent on making up for the long fast they had endured 
 since the sixteen-hands-man left. Worst of all, as day dawned, the 
 eternal " Jim Crow " recommenced his saltations, varied only with 
 
 the 
 
 " Come, arouse ye, my merry Swiss boy " 
 
 of " me Oncle Gilroy." 
 
 " Well, dash my buttons ! " groaned Sponge, as the discordant 
 noise shot through his aching head, " but this is the worst spec 
 I ever made in niy life. Fed on pork, fluted deaf, bit Avith bugs, 
 and robbed at cards — fairly, downrightly robbed. Never was a 
 more reg'ler plant put on a man. Thank goodness, however, I 
 haven't paid him — never will, either. Such a confounded, dis- 
 reputable scoundrel deserves to be punished — big, bad, blackguard- 
 looking fellow ! How the deuce I could ever be taken in by such 
 a fellow ! Believe he's nothing but a great poaching blackleg. 
 Hasn't the faintest outlines of a gentleman about him — not the 
 slightest particle — not the remotest glimmerin'." 
 
 These and similar reflections were interrupted by a great thump
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SFORTINO- TOUB. 305 
 
 against the thin lath-and-plastcr wall that separated their rooms, 
 or rather closets, accompanied by an exclamation of — 
 
 " Halloo, old boy ! how goes it ? " — an inquiry to which 
 our friend deigned no answer. 
 
 " Ord rot ye ! you're awake," muttered Facey to himself, well 
 knowing that no one could sleep after such a " Jim-Crow-ing" 
 and " Swiss-boy-ing " as he had given him. He, therefore, 
 resumed his battery, thumping as though he would knock the 
 partition in. 
 
 " Halloo ! " at last exclaimed J\lr. Sponge, " who's there ? " 
 
 " Well, old Sivin-Pund-Ten, how goes it ? " asked Facey, in a 
 tone of the keenest irony. 
 
 " You be ! " growled Mr. Sponge, in disgust. 
 
 " Breakfast in half an hour ! " resumed Facey. " Pigs' -puddin's 
 and sarsingers — all 'ot — pipin' 'ot ! " continued our host. 
 
 " Wish you were pipin' 'ot," growled Mr. Sponge, as he jerked 
 himself out of his little berth. 
 
 Though Facey pumped him pretty hard during this second pig 
 repast, he could make nothing out of Sponge with regard to his 
 movements — oiu* friend parrying all his inquiries with his " Mogg," 
 and assurances that he could amuse himself. In vain Facey 
 represented that his Oncle Gilroy would be expecting them ; that 
 j\Ir. Hobler was ready for him to ride over on : Sponge wasn't 
 inclined to shoot, but begged Facey wouldn't stay at home on his 
 account. The fact was, Sponge meditated a bolt, and was in close 
 confab with Leather, in the Eose and Crown stables, arranging 
 matters, when the sound of his name in the yard caused him to 
 look out, when — oh, welcome sight ! — a Puddingpote Bower mes- 
 senger put Sir Harry's note in his hand, which had at length 
 arrived at Jog's through their very miscellaneous transit, called a 
 post. Sponge, in the joy of his heart, actually gave the lad a 
 sliilling ! He now felt like a new man. He didn't care a rap for 
 Facey, and, ordering Leather to give him the hack and follow with 
 the hunters, he presently cantered out of town as sprucely as if all 
 was on the square. 
 
 When, however, Facey found how matters stood, he determined 
 to stop Sponge's things, which Leather resisted ; and, Facey 
 showing fight, Leather butted him with his head, sending him 
 backwards down stairs and putting his shoulder out. Leather 
 then marched off with the kit, amid the honours of war.
 
 396 
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPOUTING TOUR. 
 
 CHAPTER LIV. 
 
 BILLIARDS FACEY. 
 
 NONSUCH HOUSE AGAIN. 
 
 THE gallant inmates of Nonsuch House 
 had resolved themselves into a com- 
 mittee of speculation, as to whether Mr. 
 Sponge was coming or not ; indeed, 
 they had been betting upon it, the odds 
 at first being a hundred to one that he 
 came, though they had fallen a point 
 or two on the arrival of the post with- 
 out an answer. 
 
 " Well, I say Mr. What-dy'e-call-him 
 — Sponge — doesn't come ! " exclaimed 
 Captain Seedeybuck, as he lay fall length, 
 Avith his shaggy greasy head on the fine 
 rose-coloured satin sofa, and his legs 
 cocked over the cushion. 
 
 "Why not?" asked Miss Glitters, 
 who was beguiling the twilight half- 
 hour before candles with knitting. 
 
 " Don't know," replied Seedeybuck, 
 don't know — have a presentiment he 
 
 twirling his moustache, 
 won't.'' 
 
 " Sure to come ! " exclaimed (*aptaiu Bouncey, knocking the 
 ashes off his cigar on to the fine Tournay carpet, " I'll lay ten to 
 one — ten fifties to one — he does, — a thousand to ten if you like." 
 H" all the purses in the house had been clubbed together, we don't 
 believe they would liave raised fifty pounds. 
 
 "What sort of a looking man is he ? " asked Miss Glitters, now 
 counting her loops. 
 
 " Oh — whoy — ha — hem — haw — he's just an ordinary sort of 
 lookin' man — nothin' 'tickler any way," drawled Captain Seedey- 
 buck, now wetting and twirling his moustache. 
 
 " Two legs, a head, a back, and so on, I presume," observed the 
 lady. 
 
 " Just so," assented Captain Seedeybuck. 
 
 " He's a horsey lookin' sort o' man, I should say," observed 
 Captain Bouncey, " walks as if he ought to be ridin' — Avcars 
 vinegar tops." 
 
 " Hate vinegar tops," growled Seedeybuck. 
 
 Just then, in came Lady Scattercash, attended by Mr. Orlando 
 Bugles, the ladies' attractions having caused that distinguished
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPOUTING TOUR. 397 
 
 performer to forfeit his engagement at the Surrey Theatre. 
 Captain Cutitfut, Bob Spangles, and Sir Harry quicldy followed, 
 and the Sponge question was presently renewed. 
 
 " Who says old brown boots comes ? " exclaimed Seedcybuck 
 from the sola. 
 
 " Who's that with his nasty nob on my fine satin sofa ? " asked 
 the lady. 
 
 " Bob Spangles," rephed Seedeybnck. 
 
 " Nothing of the sort," rejoined the lady ; " and I'll trouble you 
 to get off." 
 
 " Can't — I've got a bone in my iQg,'''' rejoined the captain. 
 
 " I'll soon make you," replied her ladyship, seizing the squab, 
 and pulling it on to the floor. 
 
 As the captain was scrambling up, in came Peter — one of the 
 wageless footmen — with candles, which having distributed equit- 
 ably about the room, he approached Lady Scattercash, and asked, 
 in an independent sort of way, what room Mr. Soapsuds was to 
 have ? 
 
 "Soapsuds! — Soapsuds! — that's not his name," exclaimed her 
 ladyship. 
 
 " Sponge, you fool ! Soapey Sponge," exclaimed Cutitfat, wha 
 had ferreted out Sponge's nomme de Londres. 
 
 " He's not come, has he ? " asked Miss Glitters, eagerly. 
 
 " Yes, my lady — that's to say, miss," replied Peter. 
 
 " Come, has he ! " chorused three or four voices. 
 
 "Well, he must have a (hiccup) room," observed Sir Harry. 
 "The green — the one above the billiard-room will do," added he, 
 
 " But / have that. Sir Harry," exclaimed Miss Howard. 
 
 *' Oh, it'll hold two well enough," observed Miss Glitters. 
 
 " Then 7jou can be the second," replied Miss Howard, with a 
 toss of her head. 
 
 " Indeed ! " sneered Miss Glitters, bridling up. " I like that." 
 
 " Well, but where's the (hiccup) man to be put ? " asked Sir 
 Harry. 
 
 " There's Ladofwax's room," suggested her ladyship. 
 
 " The captin's locked the door and taken the key with him," 
 replied the footman ; " he said he'd be back in a day or two." 
 
 " Back in a (hiccup) or two ! " observed Sir Harry. " AVhere 
 is he gone ? " 
 
 The man smiled. 
 
 " Borroiced,"" observed Captain Quod, with an emphasis. 
 
 " Indeed ! " exclaimed Sir Harry ; adding, " well, I thought 
 that was Nabbum's gig with the old grey." 
 
 " He'll not be back in a hurry," observed Bouncey. " He'll be 
 like the Boulogne gents, who are always going to England but 
 never go."
 
 398 ME. SPONGE'S SPOTTING TOUR. 
 
 " Poor Wax ! " observed Quod ; " he's a big fool, to give him 
 his due." 
 
 " If you give him his due it's more than he gives other people, 
 it seems," observed Miss Howard. 
 
 " Oh, fie, Miss H. ! " exclaimed Captain. Seedeybuck. 
 
 " Well, but the (hiccup) man must have a (hiccup) bed some- 
 where," observed Sir Harry ; adding to the footman, " you'd 
 better (hiccup) the door open, you know." 
 
 " Perhaps you'd better try wdiat one of yours will do," observed 
 Bob Spangles, to the convulsion of the company. 
 
 In the midst of their mirth Mr. Bottleends was seen piloting 
 Mr. Sponge up to her ladyship. 
 
 " Mr. Sponge, my lady," said he, in as low and deferential a tone 
 as if he got his wages punctually every quarter-day. 
 
 " How do you do, Mr. Sponge ? " said her ladyship, tendering 
 him her hand with an elegant curtsy. 
 
 " How are you, Mr, (hiccup) Sponge ? " asked Sir Harry, 
 offering his ; " I believe you know the (hiccup) company ? " con- 
 tinued he, waving his hand around ; " Miss (hiccup) Glitters, 
 Captain (hiccup) Quod, Captain Bouncey, Mr. (hiccup) Bugles, 
 Captain (hiccup) Seedeybuck, and so on ; " whereupon Miss 
 Glitters curtsied, the gentlemen bobbed their heads and drew near 
 our hero, who had now stationed himself before the fire. 
 
 " Coldish, to-night," said he, stooping and placing both hands 
 to the bars. "Coldish," repeated he, rubbing his hands and 
 looking around. 
 
 " It generally is about this time of year, I think," observed Miss 
 Glitters, who Avas quite ready to enter for our friend. 
 
 " Hope it won't stop hunting," said Mr. Sponge. 
 
 " Hope not," replied Sir Harry ; " would be a bore if it did." 
 
 " I wonder you gentlemen don't prefer hunting in a frost," 
 observed Miss Howard ; " one would think it would be just the 
 time you'd want a good warming." 
 
 " I don't agree with you, there," replied Mr. Sponge, looking 
 xit her, and thinking she was not nearly so pretty as Miss Glitters. 
 
 " Do you hunt to-morrow ? " asked he of Sir Harry, not having 
 been able to obtain any information at the stables. 
 
 " (Hiccup) to-morrow ? Oh, I dare say we shall," replied Sir 
 Harry, who kept his hounds as he did his carriages, to be used 
 when wanted. " Dare say we shall," repeated he. 
 
 But though Sir Harry spoke thus encouragingly of their pros- 
 pects, he took no steps, as far as Mr. Sponge could learn, to carry 
 out the design. Indeed, the subject of hunting was never once 
 inentioned, the conversation after dinner, instead of being about 
 the Quorn, or the Pytchley, or Jack Thompson with the Ather- 
 £tone, turning upon the elegance and lighting of the Casinos in
 
 2I1{. SPONGES SFOBTING TOUR. 
 
 391) 
 
 the Adelaide Gallery and "Windmill-street, and the relative merits 
 of those establishments over the Casino de Venise in High Holhorn. 
 Xor did morning produce any change for the better, for Sir Harry 
 and all the captains came down in their usual flashy broken-down 
 player-looking attire, their whole thoughts being absorbed in 
 urranging for a pool at billiards, in which the ladies took part. 
 .So with biUiards, brandy, and " "baccy,"' — "• "baccy," brandy, and 
 billiards, varied with an occasional stroll about the grounds, the 
 non-sporting inmates of Nonsuch House beguiled the time, much 
 
 "MR. SPOXGE, MY LADY." 
 
 to Mr, Sponge's disgust, whose soul was on fire and eager for the 
 fray. The reader's perhaps being the same, we will skip Christmas 
 and pass on to New- Year's Hay. 
 
 'Twerc almost superfluous to say that New-Year's Day is 
 always a great holiday. It is a day on which custom commands 
 people to be happy and idle, Avhether they have the means of 
 being happy and idle or not. It is a day for which happiness and 
 idleness are " booked," and parties are planned and arranged long 
 beforehand. Some go to the town, some to the country ; some 
 take rail : some take steam ; some take greyhounds ; some take 
 ijigs ; while others take guns and pop at all the little dickey-birds 
 that come in their way. The rural population generally incline to
 
 400 3IR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 a hunt. They are not very particular as to style, so long as there 
 are a certain number of hounds, and some men in scarlet, to blow 
 their horns, halloo, and crack their whips. 
 
 The population, especially the rising population about Nonsuch 
 House, all inclined that way. A New- Year's Day's hunt with Sir 
 Harry had long been looked forward to by the little Eaws, and 
 the little Spooneys, and the big and little Cheeks, and we don't 
 know how many others. Nay, it had been talked of by the elder 
 boys at their respective schools — we beg pardon, academies — 
 Doctor Switchington's, Mr. Latherington's, Mrs. Skelpers, and a 
 liberal allowance of boasting indulged in, as to how they would 
 show each other the way over the hedges and ditches. The thing 
 had long been talked of. Old Johnny Raw had asked Sir Hany 
 to arrange the day so long ago, that Sir Harry had forgotten all 
 about it. Sir Hany was one of those good-natared souls who 
 can't say " No " to any one. If anybody had asked if they might 
 set fire to his house, he would have said, 
 
 " Oh, (hiccup) certainly, my dear (hiccup) fellow, if it will give 
 you any (hiccup) pleasure." 
 
 Now, for the hiccup dtiy. 
 
 It is generally a frost on New- Year's Day ; — however wet and 
 sloppy the weather may be up to the end of the year, it generally 
 turns over a new leaf on that day. New- Year's Day is generally 
 a bright, bitter, sunshiny day, with starry ice, and a most 
 decided anti-hunting feeling about it — light, airy, ringy, anything 
 but cheery for hunting. 
 
 Thus it was in Sir Harry Scattercash's county. Having smoked 
 and drank the old year out, the captains and company retired to 
 their couches without thinking about hunting. Mr, Sponge, 
 indeed, was about tired of asking when the hounds would be going 
 out. It was otherwise, however, with the rising generation, who 
 were up betimes, and began pouring in upon Nonsuch House in 
 every species of garb, on every description of steed, by every line 
 and avenue of approach. 
 
 " Halloo ! what's up now ? " exclaimed Lady Scattercash, as 
 she caught view of the first batch rounding the corner to the 
 front of the house. 
 
 " Who have we here ? " asked Miss Glitters, as a ponderous, 
 party-coloured clown, on a great, curly-coated cart-horse, brought 
 up the rear. 
 
 " Early callers," observed Captain Seedcybuck, eating away 
 complacently. 
 
 "Friends of Mr. Sponge's, most likely," suggested Captain 
 Quod. 
 
 "Some of the little Sponge's come to see their pa, p'raps," lisped 
 Miss Howard, pretending to be shocked after she had said it.
 
 3in. SPONGE'S SFOIITING TOUIi. 401 
 
 "Bravo, Miss Howard !" exclaimed Captain Cutifcfat, clapping 
 his hands. 
 
 "7 said nothing, captain," observed the young lady with 
 becoming prudery. 
 
 " Here we are again ! " exclaimed Captain Quod, as a troop of 
 various-sized urchins, in pea-jackets, with blue noses and red 
 comforters, on verj'- shaggy ponies, the two youngest swinging 
 in panniers over an ass, drew up alongside of the first comers. 
 
 " Whose sliding-sca!c of innocence is that, I wonder ! " 
 exclaimed Miss Howard, contemplating the variously sized chubby 
 faces through the window. 
 
 " He, ho, he ! ho, ho, ho ! " giggled the guests. 
 
 Another batch of innocence now hove in sight. 
 
 " Oh, those are the little (hiccup) Raws," observed Sir Harry, 
 catching sight of the sky-blue collar of the servant's long drab 
 coat. " Good chap, old Johnny Eaw ; ask them to (hiccup) in," 
 continued he, " and give them some (hiccup) cherry brandy ; " 
 and thereupon Sir Harry began nodding and smiling, and making 
 signs to them to come in. The youngsters, however, maintained 
 their position. 
 
 " The little stupexes ! " exclaimed Miss Howard, going to the 
 window, and throwing up the sash. " Come in, young gents ! " 
 cried she, in a commanding tone, addressing herself to the Inst 
 comers. " Come in, and have some toffy and lollypops ! D'ye 
 hear ? " continued she, in a still louder voice, and motioning her 
 head toward the door. 
 
 The boys sat mute. 
 
 " You little stupid monkeys," muttered she in an under-tone, 
 as the cold air struck upon her head. " Come in, like good boys," 
 added she, in a louder key, pointing with her finger towards the 
 door. 
 
 " ISTor, thenk yc ! " at last drawled the elder of the boys. 
 
 "Nor, thenk ye ! " repeated Miss Howard, imitating the drawl. 
 " Why not ? " asked she, sharply. 
 
 The boy stared stupidly. 
 
 " Why won'c you come in ? " asked she, again addressing him. 
 
 " Don't know," replied the boy, staring vacantly at his 
 younger brother, as he rubbed a pearl off" his nose on the back of 
 ins hand. 
 
 "Don't know!" ejaculated Miss Howard, stamping her Httle 
 foot on the Turkey carpet. 
 
 "Mar said we hadn't," whined the younger boy, coming to the 
 rescue of his brother. 
 
 " Mar said we hadn't ! " retorted the fair interrogator. " Why 
 not ? " 
 
 " Don't know," replied the elder. 
 
 D D
 
 402 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 "Don't know! yon little stupid animal," snapped Miss 
 Howard, the cold air increasing' the warmth of her temper. " I 
 wonder what you do know. Why did your ma say you were not to 
 come in ? " continued she, addrcs^in,^ the younger one. 
 
 " Because — because," hesitated he, " she said the house was 
 full of trumpets." 
 
 "Trumpets, you little scamp !" exclaimed the lady, reddening 
 up ; " I'll get a whip and cut your jacket into ribbons on your 
 back." And thereupon she banged down the window and closed 
 the conversation. 
 
 CHAPTER LV. 
 
 THE KISIXG GEXERATIOX, 
 
 The lull that prevailed in the breakfast-room on Miss Howard's 
 return from the v\'indow was speedily interrupted by fresh arrivals 
 before the door. The three Master Baskets in coats and lay-over 
 collars, Master Shutter in a jacket and trousers, the two Master 
 Bnlgeys in woollen overalls with very large hunting whips, 
 Master Brick in a velveteen shooting-jacket, and the two Cheeks 
 with their tweed trousers thrust into liddle-case boots, on all sores 
 of ponies and family horses, began pawing and disordering the 
 gravel in front of Xonsuch House. 
 
 George Cheek was the head boy at Mr. Latherington's classical 
 {ind conmiercial academy, at Flagellation Hall (late the Crown and 
 Sceptre Hotel and Posting House, on the Bankstone Koad), where, 
 for forty pounds a year, eighty young gentlemen were fitted for 
 the pulpit, the senate, the bar, the counting-house, or anything 
 else their fond parents fiuicied them fit for. 
 
 George was a tall stripling, out at the elbows, in at the knees, 
 with his red knuckled hands thrust a long way through his tight 
 coat. He vras just of that awkward age when boys fancy them- 
 selves men, and men are not prepared to lower themselves to their 
 level. Ladies get on better with them than men : cither the 
 ladies are more tolerant of twaddle, or their discerning eyes see 
 in the gawky youth the germ of future usefulness. George was on 
 capital terms with himself. He was the oracle of Mr. Lather- 
 ington's school, vv-here he was not only head boy and head swell, 
 bu"t a considerable authority on sporting matters. He took in 
 Beirs Life, which he read from beginning to end, and " noted its 
 contents," as they say in the city. 
 
 "I'll tell you what all these little (hiccup) animals will be
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 403 
 
 wanting," observed Sir Harry, as he cayenne-peppered a turkey's 
 leg ; " they'll be come for a (hiccup) hunt." 
 
 "Wish they may get it," observed Captain Seedeybuck ; adding, 
 " "Why, the ground's as hard as iron." 
 
 " There's a big boy," observed Miss Howard, eyeing George 
 Cheek through the window. 
 
 " Let's have him in, and see what he's got to say for himself," 
 said Miss Glitters. 
 
 " You ask him, then," rejoined Miss Howard, who didn't care 
 to risk another rub. 
 
 "Peter," said Lady Scattercash to the footman, who had been 
 loitering about, listenino: to the conversation, — " Peter, go and ask 
 that tall boy with the blue neckerchief and the riband round his 
 hat to come in." 
 
 " Yes, my lady," replied Peter. 
 
 " And the (hiccup) Spooneys, and the (hiccup) Bulgeys, and 
 the (hiccup) Raws, and all the little (hiccup) rascals," added Sir 
 Harry. 
 
 " The Raws won't come. Sir H.," observed Miss Howard, 
 soberly. 
 
 " Bigger fools they," replied Sir Harry. 
 
 Presently Peter returned with a tail, headed by George Cheek, 
 who came striding and slouching up the room, and stuck himself 
 down on Lady Scattercash's right. The small boys squeezed 
 themselves in as they could, one by Captain Seedeybuck, another 
 bv Captain Bouncey, one by Miss Glitters, a fourth by Miss 
 Howard, and so on. They all fell ravenously upon the 
 provisions. 
 
 Gobble, gobble, gobble, was the order of the day. 
 
 " Well, and how often have you been flogged this half ? " 
 asked Lady Scattercash of George Cheek, as she gave him a cup of 
 coffee. 
 
 Her ladyship hadn't much liking for youths of his age, andwordd 
 just as soon vex them as not. 
 
 " Well, and how often have you been flogged this half ? " 
 asked she again, not getting an answer to her first inquiry. 
 
 " Not at all," growled Cheek, reddening up. _ 
 
 " Oh, flogged ! " exclaimed Miss Glitters. " You wouldn't have 
 a young man like him flogged ; it's only the little boys that get 
 that— is it, Mister Cheek?"' 
 
 " To be sure not," assented the youth. 
 
 " Mister Cheek's a man," observed Miss Glitters, eyeing him 
 archly as he sat stufl[ing his mouth with currant-loaf plentifully 
 besmeared Avith raspberry-jam. " He'll be wanting a wife soon," 
 added she, smiling across the table at Captain Seedeybuck. 
 "1 question but he's got one," observed the captain. 
 
 D D 2
 
 404 ME. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 " Xo, ar havca'fc," replied Cheek, pleased at the imputation. 
 
 " Then there's a chance for you, Miss G.," retorted the captain. 
 " Mrs. George Cheek Avould look well on a glazed card with gilt 
 edges." 
 
 '• AVhat a cub ! " exclaimed Miss Howard, in disgust. 
 
 "You're another," replied Master Cheek, amidst a roar of 
 laughter from the party. 
 
 "Well, but you ask your master if you mayn't have a wife 
 next half, and we'll see if we can't arraugc ma.tters," observed 
 Miss Glitters. 
 
 " Xoo, ar sharnt," replied George, stutRug his mouth full of 
 preserved apricot. 
 
 " Why not ? " asked Miss Howard. 
 
 " Because — because — ar'll have somcthin' younger," replied 
 George. 
 
 " Bravo, young Chesterfield ! ^ exclaimed Miss Howard ; adding, 
 " what it is to be thick with Lord John Manners ! " 
 
 " Ar'm ?zo/," growled the boy, amidst the mirth of the company. 
 
 " Well, but what must we do with these little (hiccup) ? " asked 
 Sir Harry, at last rising from the breakfast-table, and looking 
 listlessly round the company for an answer. 
 
 " ! liquor them well, and send them hom.e to their mammas,'* 
 suggested Captain Bouncey, who was all for the drink. 
 
 "But they won't take their (hiccup)," replied Sir Harry, 
 holding up a Cura^oa bottle to show how little had disappeared. 
 
 " Try them v/ith cherry brandy," suggested Captain Seedeybuck ; 
 adding, " it's sweeter. Now, young man," continued he, ad- 
 dressing George Cheek, as he poured him out a wine-glassful, 
 " this is the real DaPly's elixir that you read of in the papers. It's 
 the finest compound that ever was Imown. It will make your 
 hair curl, your whiskers grow, and you a man before your mother," 
 
 "N-o-a, n-o-ar, don't want any more," growled the young 
 gentleman, turning away in disgust. " Ar won't drink any more." 
 
 " AYell, but be sociable," observed Miss Howard, helping herself 
 to a glass. 
 
 " N-o-a, no, ar don't want to be sociable," growled he, diving 
 into his trouscr-pockets, and wriggling about on his chair. 
 
 " Well, then, what will you do ? " asked Miss Howard. 
 
 " Hunt," replied the youth. 
 
 '•'' Hunt ! "" exclaimed Bob Spangles; "why, the ground's as 
 hard as bricks." 
 
 " N-o-a, it's not," replied the youth. 
 
 "What a whelp!" exclaimed Miss Howard, rising from the 
 table in disgust. 
 
 "My uncle, Jellyboy, wouldn't let such a frost stop him, I 
 know," observed the boy.
 
 ME. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 405 
 
 *' "Who's your uncle Jcllyboy ? " asked Miss Glitters. 
 
 " He's a farmer, and keeps a few harriers at Scutley," observed 
 Bob Spangles, sofio voce. 
 
 " And is that your extraordinary horse with all the legs ? " 
 asked Miss Howard, putting her glass to her eye, and scrutinising 
 a lank, woolly-coated weed, getting led about by a blue-aproned 
 gardener. " Is that your extraordinary horse, with all the legs ? " 
 repeated she, following the animal about with her glass. 
 
 "Hoots, it hasn't more legs than other people's," growled 
 George. 
 
 " It's got ten, at all events," replied Miss Howard, to the 
 astonishment of the juveniles. 
 
 " Nor, it hasn't," replied George. 
 
 "Yes, it has," rejoined the lady. 
 
 "Nor, it hasn't," repeated George. 
 
 " Come and see," said the lady ; adding, " perhaps it's put out 
 some since you got oil'." 
 
 George slouched up to where she stood at the window. 
 
 " Now," said he, as the gardener turned the horse round, and be 
 saw it had but four, " how many has it ? " 
 
 " Ten ! " replied Miss Howard. 
 
 "Hoots," replied George, "you think it's April Fool's Day, I 
 dare say." 
 
 "No, I don't," replied Miss Howard; "but I maintain your 
 horse has ten legs. See, now ! " continued she, " what do you 
 call these coming here ? " 
 
 " His two forelegs," replied George. 
 
 " Well, two fours — twice four's eight, eh ? and his two hind 
 ones make ten." 
 
 " Hoots," growled George, amidst the mirth of his comrades, 
 " you're makin' a fool o' one." 
 
 "Well, but what must I do with all these little (hiccup) 
 creatures ? " asked Sir Harry again, seeing the plot still thickening 
 outside. 
 
 "Turn them out a bagman," suggested ]\Ir. Sponge, in an under- 
 tone ; adding, " Watchorn has a three-legged 'un, I know, in the 
 hay-loft." 
 
 " Oh, Watchorn wouldn't (hiccup) on such a day as this," replied 
 Sir Harry. " New-Year's Day, too — most likely away, seeing his 
 young hounds at walk." 
 
 " We might see, at all events," observed Mr. Sponge, 
 
 " Well," assented Sir Harry, ringing the bell. " Peter," said he, 
 as the servant answered the summons, " I wish you would (hiccup) 
 to Mr. Watchorn's, and ask if he'll have the kindness to (hiccup) 
 down here." Sir Harry was obliged to be polite, for Watchorn, 
 too, was on the " free list," as Miss Ghtters cahed it.
 
 40G 2IB. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUE. 
 
 " Ycg, Sir Harry," replied Peter, leaving the room. 
 
 Presently Peter's white legs -were seen wending their way among 
 the laurels and evergreens, in the direction of Mr. AVatchorn's 
 house ; he having a house and grass for six covrs, all whose milk, 
 he declared, went to the pupi)ies and young hounds. Luckily, or 
 unluckily, perhaps, Mv. Watchorn was at home, and was in the 
 act of shaving as Peter entered. He was a square-built, dark- 
 faced, dark-haired, good-looking, ill-looking fellow, who cultivated 
 his face on the four-course system of husbandry. First, he had a 
 bare fallow — we mean a clean shave ; that of course was followed 
 by a full crop of hair all over, except on his upper lip ; then he 
 had a soldier's shave, off by the ear ; which in turn was followed 
 by a Newgate frill. The latter w^as his present style. He had 
 now no Avhiskers, but an immense protuberance of bristly black 
 hair, rising like a wave above his kerchief. Though he cared no 
 more about hunting than his master, he was very fond of his red 
 coat, which he wore on all occasions, substituting a hat for a cap 
 when " off duty," as he called it. Having attired himself in his 
 best scarlet, of which he claimed three a year, — one for wet days, 
 one for dry days, another for high days — very natty kerseymere 
 shorts and gaiters, with a small-striped, standing-coUar, toilenette 
 waistcoat, he proceeded to obey the summons. 
 
 " "Watchorn," said Sir Harry, as the important gentleman 
 appeared at the breakfast-room door, — " Watchorn, these young 
 (hiccup) gentlemen want a (hiccup) hunt." 
 
 " ! want must be their master. Sir 'Any," replied Watchorn, 
 with a broad gi'in on his flushed face, for he had been drinking all 
 night, and was half drunk then. 
 
 " Can't you manage it ? " asked Sir Harry, mildly. 
 
 " 'Ow is't possible. Sir 'Any," asked the huntsman, " 'ow is't 
 possible ? No man's fonder of 'untin' than I am, but to turn out 
 on sich a day as this would be a daring — a desperate violation of 
 all the laws of registered propriety. The Pope's bull would be 
 nothin' to it ! " 
 
 " How so ? " asked Sir Harry, puzzled with the jumble. 
 
 " How so ? " repeated Watchorn ; " how so ? Why, in the fust 
 place, it's a mortal 'ard frost, 'arder nor hiron ; in the second place, 
 I've got no arrangements made, — you can't turn out a pack of 'igh- 
 bred fox-'ounds as you would a lot of ' staggers ' or ' muggers ; ' 
 and, in the third plak-, you'll knock all your nags to bits, and they 
 are a deal better m their wind than they are on their legs, as it is. 
 No, Sir 'Arry — no," continued he, slowly and thoughtfully. " No, Sir 
 'Arry, no. Be Cardinal Wiseman, for once, Sir 'Arry; be Cardinal 
 Wiseman for once, and don't fhwJc of it." 
 
 " Well," replied Sir Harry, looking at George Check, "I suppose 
 there's no help for it."
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 407 
 
 " It was quite a tliaw where I came from," observed Check, 
 half to Sir Harry and half to the huntsman. 
 
 " 'Deed, sir, 'deed," replied Mr. Watehorn, with a chuck of his 
 fringed chiu, " it generally is a thaw everywhere but where hounds 
 meet." 
 
 "My uncle Jdljboy wouldn't be stopped by such a frost as 
 thi"3," observed Cheek. 
 
 " 'Deed, sir, 'deed," replied "Watehorn, "your uncle Jcllyboy's a 
 very fine feller, I dare say, — very fine ieller ; no such conjurors in 
 these parts as he is. "What man dare, I dare ; he who dares more, 
 is no mnn,''' added AYatchorn, giving his fat thigh a hearty slap. 
 
 " Well done, old Talliho -! '' exclaimed Miss GHttcrs. " AYc'Il 
 have you on the stage next." 
 
 " What wid you wet your whistle with after your fine speech ? " 
 aeked Lady Scattercasli. 
 
 " Take a tumbler of chumpine, if there is any," replied 
 Watehorn, looking about I'or a long-necked bottle. 
 
 " Fear you'll come on badly," observed Captain Seedeybuck, 
 holding up an empty one, " for Bc-nncey and I have just finished 
 the last ; " the captain chucking the bottle sideways on to the flooi', 
 and rolling it towards its companions in the corner. 
 
 " Have a fresh bottle," suggested Lady Scattercash, drawing 
 the bell-string at her chair. 
 
 " Champagne," said her ladyship, as the footman answered the 
 summons. 
 
 " 7\i'o on 'cm ! " exclaimed Captain Bouncey. 
 
 " 77irce ! " shouted Sir Harry. 
 
 " We'll have a regular set-to," observed Miss Howard, who was 
 fond of champagne. 
 
 " New- Year's Day," replied Bouncey, " and ought to be properly 
 observed." 
 
 Presently, Fiz — z, — pop, — bang ! Fiz — z, — pop, — bang ! went 
 the bottles ; and, as the hissing beverage foamed over the bottle- 
 necks, glasses were sought and held out to catch the creaming 
 contents. 
 
 "Here's a (hiccup) happy new year to us all !" exclaimed Sir 
 Harry, drinking oil" his wine. 
 
 " H-o-o-ray ! " exclaimed the company in irregular order, as 
 they drank off theirs. 
 
 " We'll drink j\Ir. Watehorn and the Nonsuch hounds ! " 
 exclaimed Bob Spangles, as Watehorn, having drained off his 
 tumbler, replaced it on the sideboard. 
 
 " With all the honours ! " exclaimed Captain Cutitfat, filling 
 his glass and rising to give the time ; " "\Vatchorn, your good 
 health ! " " Watehorn, your good health ! " " Watehorn, your 
 good health ! " sounded from all parts, which Watehorn kept
 
 408 MB. SI'ONGE'S SPOUTING lOUB. 
 
 acknowledging, and looking about for the means to return the 
 compliment, his friends being more intent u])on drinking his 
 health than upon supplying him with wine. At last he caught 
 the third of a bottle of " chumpine," and emptying it into his 
 tumbler, held it up while he thus addressed them : 
 
 " Gentlemen all ! " said he, " I thank you most 'ticklarly for 
 this mark of your 'tcntion (applause) ; it's most gratifyin' to my 
 feelins to be thus remembered (applause). I could say a great 
 deal more, but the liquor won't wait." So saying, he drained off 
 his glass while the wine eflPervcsced. 
 
 " Well, and what d'ye (hiccup) of the weather now ? " asked 
 Sir Harry, as his huntsman again deposited his tumbler on the 
 sideboard. 
 
 " 'Pon my soul ! Sir 'Arry," replied "Watchorn, quite briskly, 
 " I really think we mi/jld 'unt — we might try, at all events. The 
 day seems changed, some'ow," added he, staring vacantly out of 
 the window on the bright sunny landscape, with the leafless trees 
 dancing before his eyes. 
 
 "/ think so," said Sir Harry. "What do yon think, Mr. 
 Sponge ? " added ho, ajipcaling to our hero. 
 
 " Half an hour may make a great difference," observed Mr. 
 Sponge. " The sun will then be at its best." 
 
 " We'll try, at all events," observed Sir Harry. 
 
 " That's right," exclaimed George Cheek, weaving a scarlet 
 bandana over his head. 
 
 " I shall expect you to ride up to the 'ounds, young gent," 
 observed Watchorn, darting an angry look at the speaker. 
 
 " Won't I, old boy ! " exclaimed George ; "ride over you, if you 
 don't get out of the way." 
 
 " 'Deed," sneered the huntsman, whisking about to leave the 
 room ; muttering, as he passed behind the large Indian screen at 
 the door, somethmg about "jawing jackanapes, well called Cheek." 
 
 " 'Unt in 'alf an hour ! " exclaimed Watchorn, from the steps 
 of the front door ; an announcement that wns received l)y the 
 little Eaws, and little Spooneys, and little Baskets, and little 
 Eulgeys, and little Bricks, and little others, with rapturous 
 applause. 
 
 All was now commotion and hurry-scurry inside and out ; 
 glasses were drained, lips wiped, and napkins thrown hastily away, 
 while ladies and gentlemen began grouping and talking about hats 
 and habits, and Avhat they should ride. 
 
 " You go with me, Orlando," said Lady Scattercash to our 
 friend Bugles, recollecting the quantity of diachylon plaster it had 
 taken to repair the damage of his ibrmcr equestrian performance. 
 " You go with me, Orlando," said she, " in the phaeton ; and I'll 
 lend Lucy," noddiug towards Miss Glitters, "my habit and horse."
 
 31 E. SPONGE'S SPOUTING TOUR. 409 
 
 " "Who can lend mc a coat ? " asked Captain Sccdeybnck, 
 examining the skirts of a much iVnycd invisiblc-^i;rccn surtout. 
 
 "A coat!" rcphcd Captain Quod; "I can lend you a Join- 
 ville, if that will do as Awll," the captain feeling his own extensive 
 one as he spoke. 
 
 "Hardly," said Scedcybuck, turning about to ask Sir Harry. 
 
 " What ! — you are going to give ^\'atchorn a tussle, are you ? " 
 asked Captain Cutitfat of George Cheek, as the latter began 
 adjusting the fox-toothed riband about his hat. 
 
 " I beh'cve you," replied George, with a knowing jerk of his 
 head ; adding, "it won't take much to beat him." 
 
 ""What ! he's a slow 'uu, is he ? " asked Cutitfat, in an under- 
 tone. 
 
 " Slowest coach I ev'er saw," growled George. 
 
 " "Won't ride, won't he ?" asked the Captain. 
 
 "Not if he can help it," replied George; adding, " but he's 
 such a shocking huntsman — never saw such a huntsman in all my 
 life." 
 
 George's experience lay between his uncle Jellyboy, who rode 
 eighteen stone and a half, Tom Scramble, the pedestrian huntsman 
 of the Slowfoot hounds, near Mr. Latherington's, and Mr. 
 'V\''atchorn. But critics, especially hunting ones, are all ready 
 made, as Lord Byron said. 
 
 ""Well, we'd better disperse and get ready," observed Bob 
 Spangles, making for the door ; whereupon the tide of population 
 flowed that way, and the room was presently cleared, 
 
 George Cheek and the juveniles then returned to their friends 
 in the front ; and George got up pony races among the Johnny 
 Raws, the Baskets, the Bulgcys, and the Spooncys, thrice round 
 the carriage ring and a distance, to the detriment of the gravel 
 and the discomfiture of the flower-bed in the centre. 
 
 CliAPTEE LVI. 
 
 THE KEXXEL AXD THE STUD. 
 
 AVe will now accompany Mr. "\yatchorn to the stable, whither 
 his resolute legs carried him as soon as the champagne wi'ought 
 the wonderful change in his opinion of the weather, though, as he 
 every now and then crossed a spangled piece of ground upon 
 which the sun had not struck, or stopped to crack a piece of ice 
 Avith his toe, he shook his hentcd head and doubted whether he 
 was Cardinal "Wiseman for making the attempt. Nothing but the
 
 410 liin. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 fact of lifs considering it perfectly immaterial whether he was 
 with his hounds or not encouraged him in the undertaking. 
 " Dash them ! " said he, " they must just take care of themselves." 
 With which laudable resolution, and an inward anathema at 
 George Cheek, he left off trying the ground and tapping the ice. 
 
 Watchorn's hurried, excited appearance produced little satisfac- 
 tion among the grooms and helpers at the stables, who were 
 congratulating themselves on the opportune arrival of the frost, 
 and arranging how they should spend their ISTew-Year's Day. 
 
 " Look sharp, lads ! look sharp ! " exclauned he, clapping his 
 hands as he ran up the yard. " Look sharp, lads ! look sharp ! " 
 repeated he, as the astonished helpers showed their bare arms and 
 dirty shirts at the partially opened doors, responsive to the sound. 
 " Send Snaffle here, send Brown here, send Green here, send 
 Snooks here," exclaimed he, with the air of a man in authority. 
 
 Now Snaffle was the stud-groom, a personage altogether inde- 
 pendent of the huntsman, and, in the ordinary course of nature, 
 Snaffle had just as much right to send for Watchorn as Watchorn 
 had to send for him ; but Watchorn being, as we said before, some 
 way connected with Lady Scattercash, he just did as he liked 
 among the whole of them, and they were too good judges to rebel. 
 
 " Snaffle," said he, as the portly, well-put-on personage waddled 
 up to him ; " Snaffle," said he, " how many sound 'osses have 
 you?" 
 
 "■ JSone, sir," replied Snaffle, confidently. 
 
 " How many three-legged 'uns have you that can go, then ? " 
 
 " ! a good many," replied Snaffle, raising his hands to tell 
 them off on his fingers. " There's Hop-the-twig, and Hannah 
 Bell (Hannibal), and Ugly Jade, and Sir-danapalis — the Baronet 
 as we calls him — and Harkaway, and Hit-me-hard, and Single- 
 peeper, and Jack's-alive, and Groggy toes, and Greedyboy, and 
 Puff-and-blow ; that's to say two and three-legged 'uns, at least," 
 observed Snaffle, qualifying his original assertion. 
 
 " Ah, well ! " said Watchorn, " that'll do — two legs are too 
 
 many for some of the rips they'll have to carry . Let me 
 
 see," continued he, thoughtfully, " I'll ride 'Arkaway." 
 
 " Yes, sir," said Snaffle. 
 
 " Sir 'Arry, 'It-me-'ard." 
 
 " Won't you put him on Sir-danapalis ? " asked Snaffle. 
 
 " No," replied Watchorn, " no ; I wants to save the Bart. — I 
 wants to save the Bart, Sii- 'Any must ride 'Ifc-mc-'ard." 
 
 " Is her ladyship going ? " asked Snaffle. 
 
 " Her ladyship drives," replied Watchorn ; " And you, Snooks," 
 addressing a bare-armed helper, '" tell Mr. Traces to turn her out 
 a pony phaeton and pair, with fresh rosettes and all complete, you 
 know."
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUB. 411 
 
 "Yes, sir," said Snooks, with a, tench of his forelock. 
 
 "And you'd better tell Mr. Leather to have a horse for his 
 master," observed Watchorn to Snaffle, " unless as how you wish 
 to put him on one of yours." 
 
 "Not I," exclaimed Snaffle ; "hare cnouirh to mount without 
 him. D'ye know liow mauy'll be goin' ? " asked he. 
 
 " No," replied Watchorn, hurrying- off ; adding, as he went, 
 " oh, hang 'em, just saddle 'em all, and let 'em scramble for 'era." 
 
 The scene then changed. Instead of hissing helpers pursuing 
 their vocations in stable or saddle-room, they began bustling about 
 Avith saddles on their heads and bridles in their hands, the day of 
 expected ease being changed into one of unusual trouble. JMr. 
 Leather declared, as he swept the clothes over Multum-in-Parvo's 
 tail, that it was the most unconscionable proceeding he had ever 
 witnessed ; and muttered something about the quiet comforts he 
 had left at Mr. Jogglebury Crowdey's, hinting his regret at 
 having come to Sir Harry's, in a sort of dialogue with himself as 
 he saddled the horse. The beauties of the last j)lace always come 
 out strong when a servant gets to another. But we must 
 accompany ]\Ir. Watchorn. 
 
 Though his early career with the Camberwell and Balham 
 Hill Union harriers had not initiated him much into the delicacies 
 of the chase, yet, recollecting the presence of Mr. Sponge, he felt 
 suddenly seized with a desire of " doing things as they should 
 be ; " and he went muttering to the kennel, thinking how he 
 would leave Dinnerbell and Prosperous at home, and how the pack 
 would look quite as well without Frantic running half a field 
 ahead, or old Stormer and Stunner bringing up the rear with long 
 protracted howls. He doubted, indeed, whether he would take 
 Desperate, who was an incorrigible skirter ; but as she was nob 
 much worse in this respect than Chatterer or Harmony, who was 
 also an inveterate babbler, and the pack would look rather short 
 without them, he reserved the point for further consideration, as 
 the judges say. 
 
 His speculations were interrupted by arriving at the kennel ; 
 and, finding the door ftist, he looked under the slate, and above 
 the frame, and inside the window, and on the wall, for the key ; 
 and his shake, and kick, and clatter, were only answered by a full 
 chorus from the excited company within. 
 
 " Hang the feller ! what's got 'im ! " exclaimed he, meaning 
 Joe Haggish, the feeder, whom he expected to find there. 
 
 Joe, however, was absent ; not holiday-making, but on a 
 diplomatic visit to Mr. Greystones, the miller, at Splashford, who 
 had positively refused to supply any more meal, until his " little 
 bill " (430/.) for the three previous years was settled ; and 
 flesh being very scarce in the country, the hounds were quite light
 
 412 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 and fit to go, Joe had gone to try and coax Grcystones out of a 
 ton or two of meal, on the strength of its being New- Year's Day. 
 
 " Dash the feller ! wot's got Mm ? " exclaimed Watchorn, seizing 
 the latch, and rattling it furiously. The melody of the hungry 
 pack increased. " 'Ord rot the door ! " exclaimed the infuriated 
 huntsman, setting his back against it, when, at the first push, open 
 it flew. Watchorn fell back, and the astonished pack poured over 
 his prostrate body, regardless alike of his holiday coat, his tidy tie, 
 and toilenette vest. What a scrimmage ! what a kick-np was 
 there ! Away the hounds scampered, towling and howling, some 
 up to the fiesh-wheel, to sec if there was any meat ; some to the 
 bone heap, to see if there was any there ; others down to the 
 dairy, to try and affect an entrance in it ; while Launcher, and 
 Lightsome, and Burster, rushed to the back-yard of Nonsuch 
 House, and were presently over cars in the i3ig-pail. 
 
 " Get me my horn ! — get me my whop ! — get me my cap ! — get 
 me my bouts ! " exclaimed Watchorn, as he recovered his legs, and 
 saw his wife eyeing the scene from the door. " Get me my bouts ! 
 — get me my cap ! — get me my whop ! — get me my horn, woman ! " 
 continued he, reversing the order of things, and rubbing the hounds' 
 fectmarks off his clothes as he spoke. 
 
 Mrs. AVatchorn was too well drilled to dwell upon orders, and 
 she met her lord and master in the passage with the enumerated 
 articles in her hand. Watchorn having deposited himself on an 
 entrance-hall chair — for it was a roomy, well-furnished house, 
 having been the stewvard's while there was anything to take care of 
 — Mrs. AVatchorn proceeded to strip off his gaiters while he 
 drew on his boots and crowned himself with his cap. Mrs. 
 Watchorn then buckled on his spurs, and he hurried off, horn in 
 hand, desiring her to have him a basin of turtle-soup ready against 
 lie came in ; adding, " She knew where to get it." The frosty 
 air then resounded with the twang, twang, twang of his horn, and 
 hounds began drawing up from all quarters, just as sportsmen cast 
 up at a meet from no one knows where, 
 
 " He-here, hounds — hc-liere, good dogs ! " cried he, coaxing and 
 making much of the first-comers : "he-here, Galloper, old boy ! " 
 continued he, diving into his coat-pocket, and throwing him a bit 
 of biscuit. The appearance of food had a very encouraging 
 effect, for forthwith there was a general rush towards Watchorn, 
 and it was only by rating and swinging his " whop " about that 
 he prevented the pack from pawing, and perhaps downing him. 
 At length, having got them somewhat tranquilliscd, he set off on 
 liis return to the stables, coaxing the shy hounds, and rating and 
 rapping those that seemed inclined to break away. Thus he 
 managed to march into the stable-yard in pretty good order, just 
 as the house party arrived in the opposite direction, attired in the
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SFOBTING TOUR. 413 
 
 most extraordinary and incongruous habiliments. Tlierc was 
 Bob Spangles, in a swallow-tailed, mulberry-coloured scarlet, that 
 looked like an old pen-wiper, white duck trousers, and lack-lustre 
 Napoleon boots ; Captain Cutitfat, in a smart new " Moses and 
 Son's " straight-cut scarlet, with blood-hound heads on the 
 buttons, ycllow-ochre leathers, and Wellington boots with drab 
 knee-caps ; little Bounccy in a tremendously baggy long-backed 
 scarlet, A\hosc gaping outside-pockets sliowed that they had carried 
 its late owner's hands as well as his handkerchief ; the clumsy device 
 on the tarnished buttons looking quite as much like sheep's-heads 
 as foxes'. Bounccy's tight tweed trousers were thrust into a pair 
 of wide fisherman's boots, which, but for his little roundabout 
 stomach, would have swallowed him up bodily. Captain Quod 
 appeared in a venerable dress-coat of the Melton Hunt, made in 
 the popular reign of Mr. Errington, whose much-stained and 
 smeared silk facings bore testimony to the good cheer it had seen. 
 As if in contrast to the hght airiness of this garment. Quod had 
 on a tremendously large shaggy brown waistcoat, with liorn buttons, 
 a double tier of pockets, and a nick out in front. AYith an unfair 
 partiality his nether man was attired in a pair of shabby old 
 black, or rather brown, dress trousers, thrust into long Wellington 
 boots with brass heel spurs. Captain Seedeybuck had on a spruce 
 swallow-tailed green coat of Sir Harry's, a pair of old tweed 
 trousers of his own, thrust into long chamois-leather opera-boots, 
 with red morocco tops, giving the whole a very unique and novel 
 appearance. Mr. Orlando Bugles, though going to drive with my 
 lady, thought it incumbent to put on his jack-boots, and appeared 
 in kerseymere shorts, and a highly frogged and furred blue frock- 
 coat, with the corner of a musked cambric kerchief acting the 
 part of a star on his breast. 
 
 " Here comes old sixtcen-string'd Jack ? " exclaimed Bob 
 Spangles, as his brother-in-law, Sir Harry, canie hitching and 
 limping along, all strings, and tapes, and ends, as usual, followed 
 by Mr. Sponge in the strict and severe order of sporting costume ; 
 double-stitched, back-stitched, sleeve-strapped, pull-devil, pull-baker 
 coat, broad corduroy vest with fox-teetii buttons, still broader 
 corded breeches, and the redoubtable vinegar tops. "Xow we're 
 all ready ! " exclaimed Bob, working his arms as if anxious to be 
 oflP, and giving a shrill shilling-gallery whistle with his fingers, 
 causing the stable-doors to fly open, and the variously tackled 
 steeds to emerge from their stalls. 
 
 " A horse I ahorse ! my kingdom for a horse ! " exclaimed Miss 
 Glitters, running up as fast as her long habit, or rather Lady 
 Scattercash's long habit, would alloAv her. " A horse ! a horse ! 
 my kingdom for a horse ! " repeated she, diving into the throng. 
 
 " White Surrey is saddled for the field," replied Mr. Orlando
 
 414 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 Bngles, drawing himself np pompously, and waving his right hand 
 gracefully towards her ladyship's Arab palfrey, inwardly congratu- 
 lating himself that Miss Glitters was going to be bumped upon it 
 instead of him. 
 
 " Give us a leg up, Seedey ! " esclaimcd Lucy Glitters to the 
 "gent " of the green coat, fearing that Miss Howard, who was a 
 little behind, might claim the horse. 
 
 Captain Sccdeybuck seized her pretty little uplifted foot and 
 vaulted her into the saddle as light as a cork. Taking the horso 
 gently by the mouth, she gave him the slightest possible touch 
 with the whip, and moved him about at will, instead of fret- 
 ting and fighting him as the clumsy, heavy-handed Bugles had 
 done. She looked beautiful on horseback, and for a time riveted 
 the attention of our sportsmen. At length they began to think of 
 themselves, and then there were such climbings on, and clutchings, 
 and catchings, and cliugings, and genthj-\\\^%, and who-ho-ings, 
 and who-ah-ings, and questionings if " such a horse was quiet ? " 
 if another " could leap well ? " if a third " had a good mouth ? " 
 and Avhether a fourth " ever ran away ? " 
 
 " Take my port-stirrup up two 'oles ! " exclaimed Captain 
 Bouncey from the top of high Hop-the-twig, sticking out a leg to 
 let the groom do it. 
 
 The captain had affected the sea instead of the land -service, 
 while a betting-list keeper, and found the bluflF sailor character 
 very taking. 
 
 '* Avast there ! " exclaimed he, as the groom ran the buckle up 
 to the desired hole. " Now," said he, gathering up the reins in a 
 bunch, " how many knots an hour can this 'orse go ? " 
 
 '■ Twenty," replied the man, thinking he meant miles. 
 
 " Let her go then ! " exclaimed the captain, kicking the horse's 
 sides with his spurless heels. 
 
 Mr. "Watchoni now mounted Harkaway ; Sir Harry scrambled 
 on to Hit-me hard ; Miss Howard was hoisted on to Groggytoes, 
 and all the rest being "fit '' with horses of some sort or other, and 
 the races in the front being over, the juveniles poured into tho 
 yard. Lady Scattercash's pony-phaeton turned out, and our friends 
 were at length ready for a start.
 
 "^^s^SCj
 
 ME. SPONGE'S SPOUTING TOUR. 4.11 
 
 CHAPTER LVir. 
 
 THE HUKT. 
 
 While the foregoing; arrangcmeuts '^cre in progress, Mr. 
 Watchorn had desh-cd Slarkey the knilc-boy, to go into the old 
 hay-loft and take the three-legged fox he would find, and put him 
 down among the laurels by the summer-house, where he would 
 draw up to him all " rcg'lar " like. Accordingly, Slarkey went, 
 but the old cripple having mounted the rafters, Slarkey didn't see 
 him, or rather seeing but one fox, he clutched him, with a greater 
 regard to his not biting him than to seeing how many legs he had ; 
 consequently he bagged an uncommonly fine old dog lox, that Wiley 
 Tom had just stolen from Lord Scamperdale's new cover at Faggot- 
 furze ; and it was not until Slarkey put him down among the 
 bushes, and saw how Hvely he went, that he found his mistake. 
 However, there was no help for it, and he had just time to pocket 
 the bag when Watchorn's half-drunken cheer, and the reverberat- 
 ing cracks of ponderous whips on either side of the Dean, announced 
 the approach of the pack. 
 
 " He-leit in there ! " cried Watchorn to the hounds. " 'Ord, 
 dommee, but it's slippy," said he to himself. " Have at him, 
 Plunderer, good dog ! / wish I may be Cardinal Wiseman for 
 comin'," added he, seeing how his breath showed on the air. 
 " Ho-o-i-clcs ! pash 'im hup ! I'll be dashed if I shan't be down ! " 
 exclaimed he, as his horse slid a long slide. " He-leu, in ! Con- 
 queror, old boy ! " continued he, exclaiming loud enough for Mr. 
 Sponge who was drawing near to hear, " find us a fox that'll give 
 us five and forty minnits ! " the si3eaker inwardly hoping they 
 might chop their bagman in cover. " Y-o-o-iclcs ! rout him out ! '" 
 continued he, getting more energetic. " Y-o-o-icks ! wind him ! 
 Y-o-o-icks ! stir us hup a teaser ! " 
 
 "No go, I think," observed George Cheek, ambling up on his 
 leggy weed. 
 
 " No go, ye young infidel," growled Watchorn, " who taught 
 you to talk about go's, I wonder ; ought to be at school larniu' to 
 cipher, or ridin' the globes," Mr. Watchorn not exactly knowing 
 what the term " use of the globes," meant. " D'ye call that 
 nothin\''^ exclaimed he, taking off his cap as he viewed the fox 
 stealing along the gravel walk ; adding* to himself, as he saw his 
 even action, and full, well-tagged brush, " 'Ord rot him, he's got 
 hold of the wrong 'un ! " 
 
 It was, however, no time for thought. In an instant the welkin
 
 410 3in. SPONGU'S SPOLTING TOUR. 
 
 ratify wltli the outburst of the pack aud the clamour of the field. 
 '"Adli ho!" '' Talli ho!" '' TccUi ho!" "Hoop!" "ffoop!' 
 " Hooj) ! " cried a score of voices, and " Twang ! twang ! twang ! " 
 went the shrill horn of the huntsman. The whips, too, stood in 
 their stirrups, cracking their ponderous thongs, which sounded 
 like guns upon the frosty air, and contributed their " Gd together ! 
 got iogeiiwr, Itouiids ! " " Harh away ! " " Harlc away ! " " Harh 
 awag .' " " Harh! " to the general uproar. Oh, what a row, what 
 a riot, what a racket ! 
 
 AVatchorn being " in " for it, and recollecting how many saw a 
 start who never thought of seeing a finish, immediately got his 
 horse by the head, and singled himself out from the crowd now 
 pressing at his horse's heels, determining, if the bounds didn't run 
 into their fox in the park, to ride them off the scent at the very 
 first opportunity. The " chumpinc " being still alive within 
 him, in the excitement of the moment he leaped the hand-gate 
 leading out of the shrubberies into the park ; the noise the horse 
 made in taking off rnsembling the trampling on wood-pavement, 
 
 " Cuss it, but it's 'ard I " exclaimed he, as the horse slid two or 
 three yards as he alighted on the frozen field. 
 
 George Cheek followed him ; and Multum-in-Parvo, taking the 
 bit deliberately between his teeth, just walked through the gate, 
 as if it had been made of paper. 
 
 " Ah, ye brute ! " groaned Mr. Sponge, in disgust, digging the 
 Latchfor Is into his sides, as if he intended to make them meet in 
 the middle. " Ah, ye hrute ! " repeated he, giving him a hearty 
 cropper as he put up his head after trying to kick him off. 
 
 " Thank you ! " exclaimed Miss Glitters, cantering up ; adding, 
 " you cleared the way nicely for me." 
 
 Nicely he had cleared it for them all ; and the ]")ent-up tide of 
 equestrianism now poured over the park like the fiood of an irri- 
 gated water meadow. Such iconics ! such horses ! such hugging ! 
 such kicking ! such scrambling ! and so little progress with 
 many ! 
 
 The park being extensive — three hundred acres or more — there 
 was am]jle space for the aspiring ones to single themselves out ; 
 and as Lady Scattercash and Orlando sat in the pony phaeton, on 
 the rising ground by the keeper's house, they saw a dark-clad 
 horseman (George Cheek), Old Gingerbread Boots, as they called 
 Mr. Sponge, with Lucy Glitters alongside of him, gradually steal- 
 ing away from the crowd, and creeping up to Mr, AVatchorn, who 
 was sailing away with the hounds. 
 
 " What a scrimmage ! " exclaimed her ladyship, standing up 
 in the carriage, and eyeing the 
 
 Strange confusion in the vale below.
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SFOBTING TOUIl. 417 
 
 " There's Bob in his old purple," said she, eyeing her brother 
 hustling along ; " and there's ' Fat ' in his new Moses and Sou ; 
 and Bouncey in poor Wax's coat ; and there's Harry all legs and 
 wings, as usual," added she, as her husband was seen flibberty- 
 gibbertying ib along. 
 
 "And there's Lucy; and where's Miss ITowt.rd^ I wonder?" 
 observed Orlando, straining his eyes after the scrambling field. 
 
 Nothing but the inspiriting aid of " chumpine," and the hope 
 that the thing would soon tcrmiuate, sustained J\Ir. Watchorn 
 under the infliction in which he so unexpectedly found himself ; 
 for nothing would have tempted him to brave such a frost with 
 the burning sceut of a game four-legged fox. The park being 
 spacious, and enclosed by a high plank paling, he hoped the fox 
 would have the manners to confine himself within it j and so long- 
 as his threadings and windings favoured the supposition, our 
 huntsman bustled along, yelling and screaming in apparent ecstasy 
 at the top of his voice. The hounds, to be sure, wanted keeping 
 together, for Frantic as usual had shot ahead, while the gorged 
 pig-pailers could never extricate themselves from the ponies. 
 
 '"'' F-o-o-o-r-r-a-r-dl f-o-o-o-r-r-a-r-d ! f-o-o-o-r-r-a-r-d ! '''' elon- 
 gated Watchorn, rising in his stirrups, and looking back with a 
 grin at George Check, who was plying his weed with the whip, 
 exclaiming, " Ah, you confounded young warmint, I'll give you a 
 warmin' ! I'll teach you to jaw about 'untin' ! " 
 
 As he turned his head straight to look at his hounds, he was 
 shocked to see Frantic falling backwards from the first attempt 
 to leap the park-palings, and just as she gathered hers?lf for a 
 second eiibrt. Desperate, Chatterer, and Galloper, charged in line 
 and got over. Then came the general rush of the pack, attended 
 with the usual success — some over, some back, some a-top of others. 
 
 " Oh, the devil ! " exclaimed AVatchoru, pulling up short in a 
 perfect agony of despair. " Oh, the devil ! " repeated he in a 
 lower tone, as Mr. Sponge approached. 
 
 " Where's there a gate "i " roared our friend, skating up. 
 
 " Gate ! there's never a gate within a mile, and that's locked," 
 replied Watchorn, sulkily. 
 
 " Then here goes ! " replied IMr. Sponge, gathering the chestnut 
 together to give him an opportunity of purging himself of his 
 previous faux ims. " Here goes ! " repeated he, thrusting his 
 hard hat firmly on his head. Taking his horse back a few paces, 
 Mr. Sponge crammed him manfully at the palings, and got over 
 with a rap. 
 
 " Well done you!'''' exclaimed Miss Glitters in delight ; adding 
 to Watchorn, " Now old Beardey, you go next." 
 
 Beardey was irresolute. He pretended to be anxious to get the 
 tail hounds over.
 
 418 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 " Clear the way, then ! " exclaimed Miss Glitters, putting her 
 horse back, her bright eyes flashing as she spoke. She took him 
 back as far as Mr. Sponge had done, touched him with the whip, 
 and in an instant she was high in the air, lauding safely on the 
 far side. 
 
 " Hoo-ray ! " exclaimed Captains Quod and Cutitfat, who now 
 came panting up. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Watchorn ! " cried Captain Seedeybuck ; adding, 
 " you're a huntsman ! " 
 
 " Yooi o\ei; Prosperous ! Yooi oxer. Buster ! " cheered Watchorn, 
 still pretending anxiety about his hounds. 
 
 "Let me have a shy," squeaked George Cheek, backing his 
 giraffe, as he had seen Mr. Sponge and Miss Glitters do. 
 
 George took his screw by the head, and, giving him a hearty 
 rib-roasting with his whip, run him full tilt at the pailings, and 
 carried away half a rood. 
 
 " Hoo-ray ! " cried the liberated field. 
 
 "/knew how it would be," exclaimed Mr. Watchorn, in well- 
 feigned disgust as he rode through the gap ; adding, "ro??-founded 
 young waggabone ! Deserves to be well chasfe-thcd for breakin' 
 people's palin's in that way — Icttin' in all the rubbishin' tail." 
 
 The scene then changed. In lieu of the green, though hard, 
 sward of the undulating park, our friends now found themselves 
 on large frozen fallows, upon whose uneven surface the heaviest 
 horses made no impression, while the shuffling rats of ponies toiled 
 and floundered about, almost receding in their progress. Mr. 
 Sponge was just topping the fence out of the first one, and Miss 
 Glitters was gathering her horse to ride at it, as Watchorn and Co. 
 emerged from the park. Rounding the turnip-hill, beyond, the 
 leading hounds were racing with a breast high scent, followed by 
 the pack in long-drawn file. 
 
 " What a mess ! " said Watchorn to himself, shading the sun 
 from his eyes with his hand ; when, remembering his role, he 
 exclaimed, " F-o-o-w-der they go ! " as if in ecstasies at the sight. 
 Seeing a gate at the bottom of the field, he got his horse by the 
 head, and rattled him across the fallow, blowing his horn more in 
 hopes of stopping the pack than with a view of bringing up the 
 tail-hounds. He might have saved his breath, for the music of 
 the pack completely drowned the noise of tlie horn. " Dash it ! " 
 said he, thumping the broad end against his thigh ; " I wish I was 
 quietly back in my parlour. Hold up, horse ! " roared he, as 
 Harkaway nearly came on his haunches in puUing up at the gate. 
 " I know who's not Cardinal Wiseman," continued he, stooping to 
 open it. 
 
 The gate was fast, and he had to alight and lift it off its hinges. 
 Just as he had done so, and had got it sufficiently open for a
 
 MB. SPONGE'S SFOBTING TOUR. 419 
 
 horse to pass, George Cheek came up from bchiud, and slipped 
 through before him. 
 
 " Oh, you unrighteous young renegade ! Did ever mortal see 
 sich an uncivilised trick ? " roared Watchorn ; adding, as he 
 climbed on to his horse again, and went spluttering through the 
 frozen turnips after the otlender, " You've no 'quaintance with 
 Lord John Manners, I think ! " 
 
 " Oh, dear ! — oh, dear ! " exclaimed he, as his horse nearly 
 came on his head, " but this is the most punishin' affair I ever was 
 in at. Piiseyism's nothin' to it." And thereupon he indulged 
 in no end of anathemas at Slarkey for bringing the wrong fox. 
 
 " About time to take soundings, and cast anchor, isn't, it ? " 
 gasped Captain Bouncey, toiling up red hot on his pulling horse 
 in a state of utter exhaustion, as Watchorn stood craneing and 
 looking at a rasper through which Mr. Sponge and Miss Glitters 
 had passed, without disturbing a twig. 
 
 " C — a — s — t anchor!^'' exclaimed Watchorn, in a tone of 
 derision — "not this half hour yet, I hope ! — not this/or/y minnits 
 yet, I hope ! — not this hour and twenty minnits yet, I hope ! " 
 continued he, putting his horse irresolutely at the fence. The 
 horse blundered through it, barking Watchorn's nose with a 
 branch. 
 
 " 'Ord rot it, cut off my nose ! " exclaimed he, muffling it up in 
 his hand. " Cut off my nose clean by my face, I do believe," con- 
 tinued he, venturing to look into his hand for it. " Well," said he, 
 eyeing the slight stain of blood on his glove, " this will be a lesson 
 to me as long as I live. If ever I 'unt again in a frost, may I be 
 
 . Thank goodness ! they're chucked at last ! " exclaimed he, 
 
 as the music suddenly ceased, and Mr. Sponge and Miss Glitters 
 sat motionless together on their panting, smoking steeds. 
 
 AYatchorn then stuck spurs to his horse, and being now on a 
 flat rushy pasture, with a bridle-gate into the field where the 
 hounds were casting, he hustled across, preparing his horn for a 
 blow as soon as he got there. 
 
 " Twang — twang — twang — twang,''"' he went, riding up the 
 hedgerow in the contrary direction to what the hounds leant. 
 *' Tivang — twang — twang^'' he continued, inwardly congratulating 
 himself that the fox would never face the troop of m'chins he saw 
 coming down with their guns. 
 
 " Hang him ! — he's never that way ! " observed Mr. Sponge, 
 soito voce, to Miss Glitters. " He's never that way," repeated he, 
 seeing how Frantic flung to the right. 
 
 " Twang — twang — twang^'' went the horn, but the hounds 
 regarded it not. 
 
 " Do, Mr. Sponge, put the hounds to me ! " roared Mr. Watchorn, 
 dreading lest they might hit off the scent. 
 
 £ E 2
 
 420 ME. SPONGE'S SPOUTING TOUB. 
 
 Mr. Sponge answered the appeal by turning bis horse the wnv 
 the hounds were feathering, and giving them a slight cheer. 
 
 " 'Ord rot it ! " roared Watchorn, " do let 'em alone ! that's a 
 freslt, fox ! our's is over the 'ill," pointing towards Bonnyfield Hill. 
 
 " Hoop 1 " hallooed Mr. Sponge, taking off his hat, as Frantic hit 
 off the scent to the right, and Galloper, and Melody, and all the 
 rest scored to c/y. 
 
 " Oh, you confounded brown-bouted beggar ! " exclaimed Mr. 
 Watchorn, returning his horn to its case, and eyeing Mr. Sponge 
 and Miss Glitters sailing away with the again l)reast-high-scent 
 pack. " Oh, you exorbitant usurer ! " continued he, gathering his 
 horse to skate after them. "Well now, that's the most disgraceful 
 proceedin' I ever saw in the whole course of my life. Hang me, if 
 I'll stand such work ! Dash me, but I'll 'quaint the Queen ! — I'll 
 tell Sir George Grey! I'll write to Mr. Walpole ! Fo-orrard ! 
 fo-orrard ! " hallooed he, as Bob Spangles and Bouncey popped 
 upon him unexpectedly from behind, exclaiming with well-feigned 
 glee, as he pointed to the streaming pack with his whip, " 'Ord 
 dash it, but we're in for a good thing ! " 
 
 Little Bouncey's horse was still vaAvning and star-gazing, and 
 Bouncey, being quite unequal to riding and well-nigh exhausted, 
 " downed " him against a rubbing-post in the middle of a field, 
 making a "' cannon " with his own and his horse's head, and was 
 immediately the centre of attraction for the panting tail. Bouncey 
 got near a pint of sherry from among them before he recovered 
 from the shock. So anxious were they about him, that not one of 
 them thought of resuming the chase. Even the lagging whips 
 couldu't leave him. George Cheek was presently hors de combat in 
 a hedge, and Watchorn seeing him " see-sawing," exclaimed, as he 
 slipped through a gate, 
 
 " I'll send your mar to you, you young 'umbug." 
 
 Watchorn would gladly have stopped too, for the fumes of the' 
 champagne were dead within him, and the riding was becoming 
 every minute more dangerous. He trotted on, hoping each jump 
 of bi'own boots would be the last, and inwardly wishing the wearer 
 at the devil. Thus he passed through a considerable extent of 
 country, over Harrowdale Lordship, or reputed Lordship, past 
 Eoundington Tower, down Sloppyside Banks, and on to Cheeseing- 
 ton Green ; the severity of his aifliction being alone mitigated by 
 the intervention of accommodating roads and lines of field gates. 
 These, however, Mr. Sponge generally declined, and went crashing' 
 on, now over high places, now over low, just as they came in his 
 way, closely followed by the fair Lucy Glitters. 
 
 " Well, i never see'd sich a man as that ! " exclaimed Watchorn, 
 eyeing Mr. Sponge clearing a stiff flight of rails, with a gap near 
 at hand. " Nor woman nouther ! " added he, as Miss GHtters did
 
 ME. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 421 
 
 the like, " Well, I'm dashed if it arn't dangerous ! " continued 
 he, thumping his hand against his tliick thigh, as the white nearly 
 slipped upon landing. " F-o-r-r-ard ! for-rard! lioop I " screeched 
 he, as he saw Miss Glitters looking back to see where he was. 
 F-o-r-rard ! for-rard!^'' repeated he; adding, in apparent 
 delight, " My eyes, but we're in for a stinger ! Hold up, horse ! " 
 roared he, as his horse now went starring np to the knees through 
 a long sheet of ice, squirting the clayey water into his rider's face. 
 " Hold vp ! " repeated he ; adding, " I'm dashed if one mightn't as 
 well be crashin' over the Christial Palace as ridin' over a country 
 froze in this way ! 'Ord rot it, how cold it is ! " continued he, 
 blowing on his finger-ends ; " I declare my 'ands are quite mimb. 
 "Well done, old brown bouts ! " exclaimed he, as a crash on the right 
 attracted his attention ; "well done, old brown bouts ! — broke every 
 bar i' the gate ! " adding, " but I'll let Mr. Buckram know the way 
 his beautiful osses are 'bused. Well," continued he, after along skate 
 down the grassy side of Ditchburn Lane, " there's no fun in this — 
 none whatever. Who the deuce would be a huntsman that could be 
 anything else ? Dash it ! I'd rayther be a hosier — I'd rayther be 
 a 'atter — I'd rayther be an undertaker — I'd rayther be a Pusseyite 
 parson — I'd rayther be a pig-jobber — I'd rayther be a besom- 
 maker — I'd rayther be a dog's-meat man — I'd rayther be a cat's- 
 meat man — I'd rayther go about a sellin' of chickweed and sparrow- 
 grass ! " added he, as his horse nearly slipped up on his haunches. 
 
 " Thank 'eavens there's relief at last ! " exclaimed he, as on 
 rising Gimmerhog Hill he saw Farmer Saintfoin's southdowns 
 wlieeling and clustering, indicative of the fox having passed; 
 " thank 'eavens, there's relief at last ! " repeated he, reining up his 
 horse to see the hounds charge them. 
 
 Mr. Sponge and Miss Glitters were now in the bottom below, 
 fighting their way across a broad mill-course with a very stiff fence 
 on the taking-off side. 
 
 '^Hold up!'''' roared Mr, Sponge, as having bored a hole through 
 the fence, he found himself on the margin of the water-race. The 
 horse did hold up, and landed him — not without a scramble — on 
 the far side. " Run him at it, Lucy ! " exclaimed Mr. Sponge, 
 turning his horse half round to his fair companion. " Run him 
 at it, Lucy ! " repeated he ; and Lucy, fortunately hitting the gap, 
 skimmed o'er the water like a swallow on a summer's eye. 
 
 " Well done ! yoxCre a trump ! " exclaimed Mr. Sponge, standing 
 in his stirrups, and holding on by the mane as his horse rose the 
 opposing hill. 
 
 He just got up in time to save the muttons ; another second 
 and the hounds would have been into them. Holding up his hand 
 to beckon Lucy to stop, he sat eyeing them intently. Many of 
 them had their heads up, and not a few were casting sheeps' eyes
 
 422 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 at the sheep. Some few of the line hunters were persevering with 
 the scent over the greasy ground. It was a critical moment. 
 They cast to the right, then to the left, and again took a wider 
 sweep in advance, returning however towards the sheep, as if they 
 thought them the best spec after all. 
 
 " Put 'em to me," said Mr. Sponge, giving Miss Glitters his 
 whip ; *' put 'em to me ! " said he, hallooing, " For-geot, hounds ! 
 — 9/or-geot ! " — which, being interpreted, means, " here again, 
 hounds ! — here again ! " 
 
 " Oh, the concited beggar ! " exclaimed Mr, Watchorn to him- 
 self, as, disappointed of his finish, he sat feeling his nose, mopping 
 his face, and watching the proceedings. " Oh, the concited 
 beggar ! " repeated he ; adding, "old 'hogany bouts is ^feolutely 
 a goin' to kest them." 
 
 Cast them, however, he did, proceeding very cautiously in the 
 direction the hounds seemed to lean. They were on a piece of cold 
 scenting ground, across which they could hardly own the scent. 
 
 " Don't hurry 'em ! " cried Mr. Sponge to Miss Glitters, who 
 was acting whipper-in with rather unnecessary 'sigour. 
 
 As they got tinder the lee of the hedge, the scent improved a 
 little, and, from an occasional feathering stern, a hound or two in- 
 dulged in a whimper, until at length they fairly broke out in a cry. 
 
 " I'll lose a shoe," said Watchorn to himself, looking first at the 
 formidable leap before him, and then to see if there was any one 
 coming up behind. " I'll lose a shoe," said he. " No notion of 
 lippin' of a navigable river — a downright arm of the sea," added 
 he, getting off. 
 
 ^^ Forivard ! forward ! "" screeched Mr. Sponge, capping the 
 hounds on, when away they went, heads up and sterns down as 
 before. 
 
 " Ay, for-rard ! for-rard ! " mimicked Mr. Watchorn ; adding, 
 " you're for-rard enough, at all events." 
 
 After running about three-quarters of a mile at best pace, Mr. 
 Sponge viewed the fox crossing a large grass field with all the 
 steam up he could raise, a few hundred yards ahead of the pack, 
 who were streaming along most beautifully, not viewing, but 
 gradually gaining upon him. At last they broke from scent to 
 view, and presently rolled him over and over among them. 
 
 " Who-iioop ! " screamed Mr. Sponge, throwing himself off his 
 horse and rushing in amongst them. " Who-hoop ! " repeated he, 
 still louder, holding the fox up in grim death above the baying 
 pack. 
 
 " Wlw-hoop ! " exclaimed Miss Glitters, reining up in delight 
 alongside the chestnut. " Who-hoop / "" repeated she, diving into the 
 saddle-pocket for her lace-fringed handkerchief. 
 " Throw me my whip 1 " cried Mr. Sponge, repelling the attacks
 
 Mil. SPONGE'S SPOTTING TOUR. 423 
 
 of the hounds from hehind with his heels, llaviuc^ got it, he threw 
 the fox on the ground, and clearing a circle, he oil' with his brush 
 in an instant. " Tear him and cat him ! " cried he, as the pack 
 broke in on the carcass. " Tear him and eat him ! " repeated he, as 
 he made his way up to Miss Glitters with the brush, exclaiming, 
 " We'll put this in your hat, alongside the cock's feathers." 
 
 The fair lady leant towards him, and as he adjusted it becomingly 
 in her hat, looking at her bewitching eyes, her lovely face, and 
 feeling the sweet fragrance of her breath, a something shot tlirough 
 ]\rr. Sponge's pull-devil, pull-baker coat, his corduroy waistcoat, 
 his Eureka shirt, Angola vest, and penetrated the very cockles of 
 his heart. He gave her such a series of smacking kisses as startled 
 her horse and astonished a poacher who happened to be hid in 
 the adjoining hedge. 
 
 Sponge was never so happy in his life. He could have stood 
 on his head, or been guilty of any sort of extravagance, short of 
 wasting his money. Oh, he was happy ! Oh, he was joyous ! He 
 was intoxicated with pleasure. As he eyed his angelic charmer, her 
 lustrous eyes, her glowing checks, her pearly teeth, the bewitching 
 fulness of her elegant iournurc, and thought of the masterly way 
 she rode the run — above all, of the dashing style in which she 
 charged the mill-race — he felt a something quite different to any- 
 thing he had experienced with any of the buxom widows or lacka- 
 daisical misses whom he could just love or not, according to cir- 
 cumstances, among whom his previous experience had lain. Miss 
 Glitters, he knew, had nothing, and yet he felt he could not do 
 without her ; the puzzlement of his mind was, how the deuce 
 they should manage matters — " make tongue and buckle meet," as 
 he elegantly plu-ascd it. 
 
 It is pleasant to hear a bachelor's pros and coiis on the subject 
 of matrimony ; how the difficulties of the gentleman out of love 
 vanish or change into advantages with the one in — " Oh, I would 
 never think of marrying without a couple of thousand a year at the 
 very least I ^'' exclaims young Fastly. "/can't do without four 
 hunters and a hack. / can't do without a valet. / can't do 
 without a brougham. / must belong to half-a-dozen clubs. Pll 
 not marry any woman who can't keep me comfortable — bachelors 
 can live upon nothing — bachelors are welcome everywhere — very 
 different thing with a wife. Frightful things milliners' bills — fifty 
 guineas for a dress, twenty for a bonnet — ladies' maids are the very 
 devil — never satisfied — far worse to please than their mistresses." 
 And between the whiffs of a cigar he hums the old saw, 
 
 " Needles and pins, needles and pins, 
 When a man marries his sorrow begins." 
 
 Now take him on the other tack — Fast is smitten.
 
 424 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUB. 
 
 " 'Orel hano- it ! a married man can live on very little," solilo- 
 quises our friend. A nice lovely creature to kec]) one at home. 
 Hunting's all humbug ; it's only the flash of the thing that makes 
 one follow ib. Then the danger far more than counterbalances 
 the pleasure. Awful places oue has to ride over, to be sure, or 
 submit to be called ' slow.' Horrible thing to set up for a horse- 
 man, and then have to ride to maintain one's rejjutation. Will 
 be thankful to give it up altogether. The bays will make capital 
 carriage-horses, and one can often pick up a second-hand carriage 
 as good as new. Shall save no end of money by not having to 
 jDufc ' B ' to my name in the assessed tax-paper. One club's as 
 good as a dozen — will give up the Polyanthus and the Sunflower, 
 and the Refuse and the Rag. Ladies' dresses are cheap enough. 
 Saw a beautiful gown t'other day for a guinea. Will start Master 
 Eergamotte. Does nothing for his wages ; will scarce clean my 
 hoots. Can get a chap for half what I give him, who'll do double 
 the work. Will make Beans into coachman. What a convenience 
 to have one's wife's maid to sew on one's buttons, and keep one's 
 toes in one's stocking-feet ! Declare I lose half my things at the 
 washing for want of marking. Hanged if I won't marry and be 
 respectable — marriage is an honourable state ! " And thereupon 
 Tom grows a couple of inches taller in his own conceit. 
 
 Though Mr. Sponge's thoughts did not travel in quite such a 
 luxurious first-class train as the foregoing, he, Mr. Sponge, being 
 more of a two-shirts-and-a-dicky sort of man, yet still the future 
 ways and means weighed upon his mind, and calmed the transports 
 of his 23resent joy. Lucy was an angel ! about that there was no 
 dispute. He would make her Mrs. Sponge at all events. Touring 
 about was very expensive. He could only counterbalance the 
 extravagance of inns by the rigid rule of giviug nothing to servants 
 at private houses. He thought a nice airy lodging in the suburbs 
 of London would answer every purpose, while his accurate know- 
 ledge of cab-fares would enable Lucy to continue her engagement 
 at the Eoyal Amphitheatre without incurring the serious over- 
 charges the inexperienced are exposed to. " Where one can dine, 
 two can dine," mused Mr. Sponge ; " and I make no doubi we'll 
 manage matters somehow." 
 
 " Twopence for your thoughts ! " cried Lucy, trotting up, and 
 touching him gently on the back with her light silver-mounted 
 riding-whip. " Twopence for your thoughts ! " repeated she, as 
 Mr. Sponge sauntered leisurely along, regardless of the bitter cold, 
 followed by such of the hounds as chose to accompany him. 
 
 " Ah ! " replied he, brightening up ; " I was just thinking what 
 a deuced good run we'd had." 
 
 " Indeed ! " pouted the fair lady. 
 
 " No, my darling ; I was thinking Avhat a very pretty girl you
 
 2IE. SPONGE'S SPOUTING- TO (Jit. 425 
 
 arc," rejoined he, sidling his horse up, and encircling her neat 
 waist with his arm. 
 
 A sweet smile dimpled her plump cheeks, and chased the 
 recollection of the former answer away. 
 
 It would not be pretty — indeed, we could not pretend to give 
 even the outline of the conversation that followed. It was carried on 
 in such broken and disjointed sentences, eyes and squeezes doing so 
 much more work than words, that even a reporter would have had 
 to draw largely u]:)on his imagination for the substance. Suflicc it to 
 say, that though the thermometer was below zero, they never 
 moved out of a foot's pace ; the very hounds growing tired of the 
 trail, and slinking off one by one as opportunity occurred. 
 
 A dazzling sun was going down with a blood-red glare, and the 
 partially softened ground was fast resuming its fretwork of frost, 
 as our hero and heroine were seen sauntering up the western 
 avenue to Nonsuch House, as slowly and quietly as if it had been 
 the hottest evening in summer. 
 
 "Here's old Coppertops ! " exclaimed Captain Seedeybuck, as, 
 turning round in the billiard-room to chalk his cue, he espied them 
 crawling along. "And Lucy !" added he, as he stood watching 
 them. 
 
 " How slowly they come ! " observed Bob Spangles, going to 
 the window. 
 
 "Must have tired their horses," suggested Captain Quod. 
 
 " Just the sort of man to tire a horse," rejoined Bob Spangles. 
 
 " Hate that Sponge," observed Captain Cutitfat. 
 
 " So do I," replied Captain Quod. 
 
 " Well, never mind the beggar ! It's you to play ! " exclaimed 
 Bob Spangles to Captain Seedeybuck. 
 
 But Lady Scattercash, who was observing our friends from her 
 boudoir window, saw with a woman's eye that there was something 
 more than a mere case of tired horses ; and, tripping down stairs 
 she arrived at the front door just as the fair Lucy dropped 
 smilingly from her horse into Mr. Sponge's extended arniP. 
 Hurrying up into the boudoir, Lucy gave her ladyship one of Mr. 
 Sponge's modified kisses, revealing the truth more eloquently than 
 words could convey. 
 
 " Oh," Lady Scattercash was " so glad ! " " so delighted ! " " so 
 charmed ! " 
 
 Mr. Sponge was such a nice man, and so rich. She was sure he 
 was rich — couldn't hunt if he wasn't. Would advise Lucy to 
 have a good settlement, in case he broke his neck. And pin- 
 money ! pin-money was most useful ; no husband ever let his 
 wife have enough money. Must forget all about Harry Dacre 
 and Charley Brown, and the swell in the Blues. Must be prudent 
 for the future. Mr. Sponge would never know anything of the
 
 426 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 past. Then she reverted to the interesting subject of settlements. 
 " What had Mr. Sponge got, and what would he do ? " This Lucy 
 couldn't tell. " What ! hadn't he told her where his estates 
 were?"— "No." "Well, was his dad dead?" This Lucy 
 didn't know either. They had got no further than the tender 
 prop. " Ah ! well ; would get it all out of him by degrees." And 
 with the reiteration of her " so glads," and the repayment of the 
 kiss Lucy had advanced, her ladyship advised her to get olf her 
 habit and make herself comfortable, while she ran down stairs tc 
 communicate the astonishing intelligence to the party below. 
 
 " What d'ye think ? " exclaimed she, bursting into the billiard- 
 room, where the party were still engaged in a game at pool, all our 
 sportsmen, except Captain Cutitfat, who still sported his new 
 Moses and Son's scarlet, having divested themselves of their 
 hunting-gear — "What d'ye think?" exclaimed she, darting into 
 the middle of them. 
 
 " That Bob don't cannon ? " observed Captain Bouncey from 
 below the bandage that encircled his broken head, nodding towards 
 Bob Spangles, who was just going to make a stroke. 
 
 " That Wax is out of limbo ? " suggested Captain Seedeybuck, 
 in the same breath. 
 
 " No. Guess again ! " exclaimed Lady Scattercash, rubbing her 
 hands in high glee. 
 
 " That the Pope's got a son ? " observed Captain Quod. 
 
 " No. Guess again ! " exclaimed her ladyship, laughing. 
 
 " I give it up," replied Captain Bouncey. 
 
 " So do I," added Captain Seedeybuck. 
 
 " T/iat Mr. Sponge is going to he married.,^'' enunciated her 
 ladyship, slowly and emphatically, waving her arms. 
 
 '•'■ Ho-o-ruy ! Only think of that!" exclaimed Captain Quod. 
 " Old 'hogany-tops goin' to be spliced ! " 
 
 " Did you ever ? " asked Bob Spangles. 
 
 " No, I never,'''' replied Captain Bouncey. 
 
 "He should be called Spooney Sponge, not Soapey Sponge," 
 observed Captain Seedeybuck, 
 
 " Well, but to whom ? " asked Captain Bouncey. 
 
 " Ah, to whom, indeed ! That's the question," rejoined her 
 ladyship archly. 
 
 '• I know," observed Bob Spangles. 
 
 •' No, you don't." 
 
 " Yes, I do." 
 
 " Who is it, then ? " demanded her ladyship. 
 
 " Lucy Glitters, to be sure," replied Bob, who hadn't had his 
 stare out of the billiard-room window for nothing. 
 
 " Pity her," observed Bouncey, sprawling along the billiard-table 
 to play for a cannon.
 
 Mli. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 427 
 
 "Why ?" asked Lady Scattcrcash. 
 
 "Reg'lar scamp," replied Bouncey, vexed at niissiiifif liis stroke. 
 
 " Dare say you know nothing about him," snapped her hidyshij) 
 
 " Don't I ? " rephed Bouncey, complacently ; adding, " that's 
 all you know," 
 
 " He'll whop her, to a certainty," observed Secdeybuck. 
 
 " What makes you think that ? " asked her ladyship. 
 
 " Oh — ha — hem — haw — why, because he whopped his poor horse 
 - — whopped him over the ears. Whop his horse, whop his wife ; 
 whop his Avife, whop his horse. Eeg'lar Rule-of-three sum." 
 
 " Make her a bad husband, I dare say," observed Bob Spangles, 
 who was rather smitten with Lucy himself. 
 
 " Never mind ; a bad husband's a deal better than none, Bob," 
 replied Lady Scattercash, determined not to be put out of conceit 
 of her man. 
 
 *' Jle, he, he ! — haiv, haiv, liaw I — ho, ho, ho I Well done you ! " 
 laughed several. 
 
 " She'll have to keep him," observed Captain Cutitfat, whose 
 turn it now was to play. 
 
 "What makes you think that?" asked Lady Scattercash, 
 coming again to the charge. 
 
 " He has nothing," replied Fat, coolly. 
 
 " 'Deed, but he has — a very good property, too," replied her 
 ladyship. 
 
 " In ^M'shire, I should think," rejoined Fat. 
 
 " No, in Englandshire," retorted her ladyship ; " and great 
 expectations from an uncle," added she. 
 
 " Ah — he looks like a man to be on good terms with his uncle," 
 sneered Captain Bouncey. 
 
 "Make no doubt he pays him many a visit," observed 
 Scedeybuck. 
 
 " Indeed ! that's all you know," snapped Lady Scattercash. 
 
 " It's not all I know," replied Seedeybuck. 
 
 " Well, then, what else do you know ? " asked she. 
 
 " I know he has nothing," replied Secdey. 
 
 " How do you know it ? " 
 
 " I Imoiu^'' said Seedey, with an emphasis, now settling to his 
 stroke. 
 
 " Well, never mind," retorted her ladyship ; if he has nothing 
 she has nothing, and nothing can be nicer." 
 
 So saying, she hurried out of the room.
 
 428 
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPOitTING TOUR. 
 
 SPONGE "A CAPTIVE, 
 
 CHAPTEE LVIII. 
 
 MR. SPOXGE AT HOME. 
 
 POXGE was most warmly 
 cong^ratulatecl by Sir 
 Harry and all the assem- 
 bled captains, -who in- 
 wardly hoped his mar- 
 riage would have the 
 eflPect of " snuflfing him 
 out," as they said, and 
 they had a most glorious 
 jollification on the 
 strength of it. They 
 drank Lucy's and his 
 health nine times over, 
 with nine times nine each 
 time. The consequence 
 was, that the footmen and shutter were in earlier requisition 
 than usual to carry them to their respective apartments. Sponge's 
 head throbbed a good deal the next morning ; nor was the pulsa- 
 tion abated by the recollection of his matrimonial engagement, 
 and his total inability to keep the angel who had ridden herself 
 into his affections. However, like all unti'ied men, he was strong 
 in the confidence of his own ability, and the sight of his smiling 
 charmer chased away all prudential considerations as quickly as 
 they arose. He made no doubt there would something turn up. 
 
 Meanwhile, he was in good quarters, and Lady Scattercash 
 having warmly espoused his cause, he assumed a considerable 
 standing in the establishment. Old Beardey having ventured to 
 complain of his interference in the kennel, my lady curtly told 
 him he might " make himself scarce if he liked ; " a step that 
 Beardey was quite ready to take, having heard of a desirable 
 public-house at Xewington Butts, provided Sir Harry paid him 
 his wages. This not being quite convenient. Sir Harry gave him 
 an order on " Cabbage and Co." for three suits of clothes, and 
 acquiesced in his taking a massive silver soup-tureen, on which, 
 beneath the many-quartered Scattercash arms, Mr. Watchorn 
 placed an inscription, stating that it was presented to him by Sir 
 Harry Scattercash, Baronet, and the noblemen and gentlemen of 
 his hunt, in admiration of his talents as a huntsman and his 
 character as a man.
 
 Mli. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 4:'9 
 
 Mr. Sponge then became still more at home. It was very soou 
 •' ray hounds," and " my horses," and " my whips ; " and lie wi-ote 
 to Jawleyford, and Puffington,, and Guano, and Lumplog, and 
 AVashball, and Spraggon, olTering to make meets to suit their 
 couveuieuce, and even to mount them if required. His " Mogg " 
 was quite neglected in favour of Lucy ; and it says much for tlie 
 influence of female charms that, before they had been engaged a 
 fortnight, he, who had been a perfect oracle in cab-fares'^ would 
 have been puzzled to tell the most ordinary far: on the most 
 frequented route. He had forgotten all about them. Nevertheless, 
 Lucy and he went out hunting as often as they could raise hounds, 
 and when they had a good run and killed, he saluted her ; and 
 when they didn't kill, why — he just did the same. He headed 
 and tailed the stringing pack, drafted the skirters and babblers 
 (which he sent to Lord Scamperdale, with his compliments), and 
 presently had the uneven kennel in something like shape. 
 
 Nor was this the only way in which he made himself useful, for 
 Nonsuch House being now supported almost entirely by voluntary 
 contributions, — that is to say, by the gullibility of tradesmen, — 
 his street and shop knowledge was valuable in determining who to 
 " do." With the Post-office Directory and Mr. Sponge at his 
 elbow, Mr. Bottleends, the butler — "delirius tremendous," as 
 Bottleends called it, having quite incapacitated Sir Harry — -wrote 
 off for champagne from this man, sherry from that, turtle from a 
 third, turbot from a fourth, tea from a fifth, truffles from a sixth, 
 wax-lights from one, sperm fi'om another ; and down came the 
 things wath such alacrity, such thanks for the past and hopes for 
 the future, as we poor devils of the untitled world are quite 
 unacquainted with. Nay, not content with giving him the goods, 
 many of the poor demented creatures actually paraded their 
 folly at their doors in new deal packing-cases, flourishingly 
 directed " To Sm Harry Scattercasii, Bart., Nonsuck 
 House, &c. B?/ Express Train.'' In some cases they even 
 paid the carriage. 
 
 There is no saying what advantages railway communication 
 may confer upon a country. But for the Gninddiddle Junction, 
 shire never would have had a steeple-chase — an " Aris- 
 tocratic," at least — for it is observable that the more snobbish a 
 thing is, the more certain they are to call it aristocratic. When 
 it is too bad for anything, they call it " Grand." Well, as we said 
 
 before, but for the Granddiddle Junction, shire would never 
 
 have had a " Grand Aristocratic Steeple-Chase." A few friends 
 or farmers might have got up a quiet thing among themselves, 
 but it would never have seen a regular trade transaction, with its 
 swell-mob, sham captains, and all the paraphernalia of odd laying,
 
 430 MR. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUR. 
 
 " secret tips," and market rig-ging. Who will deny the benefit 
 that must accrue to any locaUty by the infusion of all the loose 
 fish of the kingdom ? 
 
 Formerly the prize-fights were the perquisite of the publicans. 
 They it was who arranged for Shaggy Tom to pound Hairy Billy's 
 nob upon So-and-so's land, the preference being given to the 
 locality that subscribed the most money to the fight. Since the 
 decline of " the ring," steeple-chasing, and tliat still smaller grade 
 of gambling — coursing, have come to their aid. Nine-tenths of 
 the steeple-chases and coursing-matches are got up by innkeepers, 
 for the good of their houses. Some of the town publicans, indeed, 
 seem to think that the country was just made for their matches to 
 come off in, and scarcely condescend to ask the leave of the land- 
 owners. We saw an advertisement the other day, where a low 
 publican, in a manufacturing town, assured the subscribers to his 
 coursing-club that he would take care to select open ground, with 
 " plenty of stout hares," as if all the estates in the neighbourhood 
 were at his command. Another advertised a steeple-chase in the 
 centre of a good hunting country — "amateur and gentleman 
 riders " — with a half-crown ordinary at the end ! Fancy the 
 respectability of a steeple-chase, with a half-crown ordinary at th(i 
 end ! 
 
 Our " Aristocratic " was got up on the good-of-the-house 
 principle. AYhatever benefit the Granddiddle Junction confen'ed 
 upon the country at large, it had a very prejudicial effect upon the 
 Old Duke of Cumberland Hotel and Posting-House, which it left, 
 high and dry, at an angle, sufficiently near to be tantalised by the 
 whirr and the whistle of the trains, and yet too far off to be 
 benefited by the parties they brought. This once well-accustomed 
 hostelry was kept by one Mr. Viney, a former butler in the 
 Scattercash family, and who still retained the usual "old-and- 
 faithful-servant " entree of Nonsuch House, having his beefsteak 
 and bottle of wine in the steward's room whenever he chose to 
 call. Viney had done good at the Old Duke of Cumberland ; and 
 no one, seeing him " full fig," would recognise, in the solemn 
 grandeur of his stately person, the dirty knife-boy who had filled 
 the place now occupied by the still dirtier Slarkey. But the days 
 of road travelling departed, and Viney, who, beneath the Grecian- 
 columned portico of his country-house-looking hotel, modulated 
 the ovations of his cauliflower head to every descripcion of 
 traveller — from the lordly occupant of the barouche-and-four, down 
 to the humble sitter in a gig — was cut off by one fell swoop from 
 all further traffic. He was extinguished like a gaslight, and the 
 pipe was laid on a fresh line. 
 
 Fortunately Mr. Viney was pretty warm ; he had done pretty 
 well ; and having enjoyed the intimacy of the great " Jeames " of
 
 3IR. SPONGE'S SPOUTING TOUR. 431 
 
 railway times, had got a hint not to engago the hotel beyond the 
 opening of the line. Consequently, he now had the great house for 
 a mere nothing until such times as the owner could convert it into 
 that last refuge for deserted houses — an academy, or a " young 
 ladies' seminary.'" Mr. Viney now, having plenty of leisure, 
 frequently drove his "missis " (once a lady's maid in a quality 
 family) up to Nonsuch House, as well for the sake of the airing — 
 for the road was pleasant and picturesque — as to see if he could 
 get the " little trifle " Sir Harry owed him for post-horses, bottles 
 of soda-water, and such trifles as country gentlemen run up scores 
 for at their posting-houses, — scores that seldom get smaller by 
 standing. In these excursions Mr. Viney made the acquaintance 
 of Mr. Watchorn ; and a huntsman being a character with whom 
 even the landlord of an inn — we beg pardon, hotel and posting- 
 house — may associate without degradation, Viney and Watchorn 
 became intimate. Watchorn sympathised with Viney, and never 
 failed to take a glass in passing, either at exercise or out hunting, 
 to deplore that such a nice-looking house, so " near the station, 
 too," should be ruined as an inn. It was after a more than usual 
 libation that Watchorn, trotting merrily along with the hounds, 
 having accomplished three blank days in succession, asked himself, 
 as he looked upon the surrounding vale from the rising ground of 
 Hammercock Hill, with the cream-coloured station and rose- 
 coloured hotel peeping through the trees, whether something 
 might not be done to give the latter a lift. At first he thought of 
 a pigeon match — a sweepstake open to all England — fifty membci's 
 say, at two pound ten each, seven pigeons, seven sparrows, 
 twenty-one yards rise, two ounces of shot, and so on. But then, 
 again, he thought there would be a difficulty in getting guns. 
 A coursing-match — how would that do? Answer: "No hares." 
 The farmers had made such an outcry about the game, that the 
 landowners had shot them all off, and now the farmers were 
 grumbhng that they couldn't get a course. 
 
 " Dash my buttons ! " exclaimed Watchorn ; " it would be the 
 Tery thing for a steeple-chase ! There's old Puff's hounds, and 
 old Scamp's hounds, and these hounds," looking down on the ill- 
 sorted lot around him ; " and the deuce is in it if we couldn't give 
 the thing such a start as would bring down the lads of the 
 'village,' and a vast amount of good business might be done. 
 I'm dashed if it isn't the very country for a steeple-chase ! " 
 continued Watchorn, casting his eye over Cloverley Park, round 
 the enclosure of Langworth Grange, and up the rising ground of 
 Lark Lodge. 
 
 The more Watchorn thought of it, the more he was satisfied of 
 its feasibility, and he trotted over, the next day, to the Old Duke 
 of Cumberland, to see his friend on the subject. Viney, like most
 
 432 MR. SPONGE'S SPOUTING TOUR. 
 
 victnallers, was more given to games of skill — billiards, shuttlecock, 
 skittles, dominoes, and so on — than to the rude out-of-door 
 chances of flood and field, and at first he doubted his ability to 
 grapple with the details ; but on ]\Ir, Watchorn's assurance that 
 he would keep him straight, he gave Mrs. Yiney a key, desiring 
 her to go into the inner cellar, and bring out a bottle of the green 
 seal. This was ninety-shilling sherry — very good stuff to take ; 
 and, by the time they got into the second bottle, they had got 
 into the middle of the scheme too. Viney was cautious and 
 thoughtful. He had a high opinion of Watchorn's sagacity, and 
 so long as Watchorn confined himself to weights, and stakes, and 
 forfeits, and so on, he was content to leave himself in the hands 
 of the huntsman; but when Watchorn came to talk of "stewards," 
 putting this person and that together, Viney's exiDerience came in 
 aid. Viney knew a good deal. He had not stood twisting a 
 napkin negligently before a plate-loaded sideboard without picking 
 up a good many waifs and strays in the shape of those ins and 
 outs, those likings and dislikings, those hatreds and jealousies, that 
 foolish people let fall so freely before servants, as if for all the 
 world the servants were sideboards themselves ; and he had kept 
 up his stock of service-gained knowledge by a liberal, though not 
 a dignity-compromising intercourse — for there is no greater 
 aristocrat than your out-of-livery servant — among the npper 
 servants of all the families in the neighbourhood, so that he knew 
 to a ]iicety who would pull together and who wouldn't, whose 
 name it would not do to mention to this person, and who it would 
 not do to apply to before that. 
 
 Neither Watchorn nor Viney being sportsmen, they thought they 
 had nothing to do but apply to two friends who were ; and after 
 thinking over who hunted in couples, they were unfortunate 
 enough to select our Flat Hat friends, Fyle and Fossick. Fyle was 
 indignant beyond measure at being asked to be steward to a 
 steeple-chase, and thrust the application into the fire ; while 
 Fossick just wrote below, " I'll see you hanged first," and sent it 
 back without putting even a fresh head on the envelope. Nothing 
 daunted, however, they returned to the charge, and without 
 troubling the reader with unnecessary detail, wc think it will be 
 generally admitted that they at length made an excellent selection 
 in Mr. Pufiingcon, Guano, and Tom Washball. 
 
 Fortune favoured them also in getting a locality to run in, for 
 Timothy Scourgefield, of Broom Hill, whose farm commanded a 
 good circular three miles of country, with every variety of obstacle, 
 having thrown up his lease for a thirty-per-ccnt. reduction — a giving 
 np that had been most unhandsomely accepted by his landlord — 
 Timothy was most anxious to pay him off by doing every 
 conceivable injury to the farm, than which nothing can be more
 
 3IB. SPONGE'S SFOBTING TOUR. 433 
 
 promising than having a steeple-chase run over it. Scourgefield, 
 therefore, readily agreed to let Viney and Watchorn do whatever 
 they liked, on condition that he received entrance-money at the 
 gate. 
 
 The name occupied their attention some time, for it did not 
 begin as the "Aristocratic." The " Great National," tl)e " Grand 
 Naval and Military," the "Sportsman," the " Talli-ho," the "Out- 
 and-Outer," the " Swell," were all considered and canvassed, and 
 its being called the " Aristocratic " at length turned upon whether 
 they got Lord Scamperdale to subscribe or not. This was accom- 
 plished by a differential call by Mr. Yiney upon Mr. Spraggon, 
 with a little bill for tlu'ee pound odd, which he presented, with the 
 most urgent request that Jack wouldn't think of it then — any 
 time that was most convenient to Mr. Spraggon — and then the 
 introduction of the neatly-headed sheet-list. It was lucky that 
 Viney was so easily satisfied, for poor Jack had only thirty shilHngs, 
 of which he owed his washerwoman eight, and he was very glad to 
 stuff Viney's bill into his stunner jacket-pocket, and apply himself 
 exclusively to the contemplated steeple-chase. 
 
 Like most of us. Jack had no objection to make a little money ; 
 and as he squinted his frightful eyes inside out at the paper, he 
 thought over what horses they had in the stable that were lilvc the 
 thing ; and then he sounded Viney as to whether he would put him 
 one up for nothing, if he could induce his lordship to send. This, 
 of course, Viney readily assented to, and again requesting Jack 
 not to iJiinlc of his little bill till it was perfectly convenient to him 
 — a favour that Jack was pretty sure to accord him — Mr. Viney 
 took his departure. Jack undertaking to write him the result. The 
 next day's post brought Viney the document — unpaid, of course — 
 with a great " Scamperdale " scrawled across the top ; and forth- 
 with it was decided that the steeple-chase should be called the 
 " Grand Aristocratic." Other names quickly followed, and it soon 
 assumed an importance. Advertisements appeared in all the sport- 
 ing and would-be sporting papers, headed with the imposing names 
 of the stewards, secretary, and clerk of the course, Mr. Viney. The 
 " Grand Aristocratic Stakes," of 20 sovs. each, half-forfeit, and bl. 
 only if declared, &c. The winner to give two dozen of champagne 
 to the ordinary, and the second horse to save his stake. Gentle- 
 men riders (titled ones to be allowed 3 lbs.). Over about three 
 miles of fine hunting country, under the usual steeple-chase 
 conditions. 
 
 Then the game of the " Peeping Toms," and " Sly Sams," and 
 " Infallible Joes," and " Wide-awake Jems," with their tips and 
 distribution of prints began ; Tom counselling his numerous and 
 daily increasing clients to get well on to No, 9, Sardanapalus (the 
 Bart., as Watchorn called him), while " Infalhble Joe " recom«
 
 434 
 
 2IE. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUR. 
 
 mended his friends and patrons to be sweet on No. G (Hercules), 
 and "Wide-awake Jem" was all for something- else. A gentleman 
 who took the tronble of getting tips fi'om half a dozen of them, 
 found that no two of them agreed in any particular. What 
 information to make books upon ! 
 
 " But what good," as our excellent friend Thackeray eloquently 
 asks, "ever came out of, or went into, a betting book? If 1 could 
 be Caliph Omae for a week," says he, " I would pitch every one 
 of those despicable manuscripts into the flames ; from my-lord's, 
 who is ' in ' with Jack Snaffle's stable, and is overreaching worse- 
 informed rogues, and swindling green-horns, down to Sam's, the 
 butcher's boy, who books eighteen-penny odds in the tap-room, 
 and stands to win five-and-twenty bob." We say ditto to that, and 
 are not sure that we wouldn't hang a " leg " or a " list " man or 
 two into the bargain. 
 
 Watchorn had a prophet of his own, one Enoch Wriggle, who, 
 having tried his hand unsuccessfully first at tailoring, next as an 
 accountant, then in the watercress, ai'terwards in the l)uy " 'at-box, 
 bonnet-box," and lastly in the stale lobster and periwinkle line, had 
 set up as an oracle on turf matters, forwarding the most accurate 
 and infallible information to flats in exchange for half-crowns, 
 heading his advertisements, " If it be a sin to covet honour, I am 
 the most offending soul alive ! " Enoch did a considerable stroke 
 of business, and couched his advice in such dubious terms, as 
 generally to be able to claim a victory whichever way the thing 
 went. So the " offending soul " prospered ; and from scarcely 
 having shoes to his feet, he very soon set up a gig. 
 
 NOWS'vICH HOUSE 
 
 I 
 ,1!!', E); PMS^ 
 
 : i^ 
 
 VOLUNTARY CONTRlBUTIONa.
 
 MB. SPONGE' ti SPOUTING 10 UK. 
 
 435 
 
 i:jey and jir. watchork getting rp 
 
 (JRAND ARISTOCRATIC." 
 
 CHAPTER LIX. 
 
 HOW THE GRAXD ARISTOCRATIC CAME OFF. 
 
 STEEPLE- 
 CHASES are 
 gen e r a 1 1 y 
 crude, ill-ar- 
 ranged things. 
 Few sports- 
 men will act 
 as stewards a 
 second time ; 
 Avhile the vic- 
 tim to the po- 
 pular delusion 
 of patronising 
 our ''national 
 sports " con- 
 siders — like 
 gentlemen 
 who have served the office of sheriff, or churchwarden — that once 
 in a lifetime is enough ; hence, there is always the air of amateur 
 actorship ahont them. There is always something wanting or for- 
 gotten. Either they forget the ropes, or they forget the scales, or 
 they forget the weights, or they forget the bell, or — more commonly 
 still— some of the parties forget themselves. Farmers, too, are 
 easily satisfied with the benefits of an irresponsible mob careering 
 over their farms, even though some of them are attired in the mis- 
 cellaneous garb of hunting and racing costume. Indeed, it is just 
 this mixture of two sports that spoils both ; steeple-chasing being 
 neither hunting nor racing. It has not the wild excitement of the 
 ■one, nor the accurate calculating qualities of the other. The very 
 horses have a peculiar air about them — neither hunters nor hacks, 
 nor yet exactly race-horses. Some of them, doubtless, are fine, 
 good-looking, well-conditioned animals ; but the majority are lean, 
 lathy, sunken-eyed, woe-begone, iron-marked, desperately-abused 
 brutes, lacking all the lively energy that characterises the move- 
 ments of the up-to-the-mark hunter. In the early days of steeple- 
 chasing a popular fiction existed that the horses were hunters ; 
 and grooms and fellows used to come nicking and grinning up to 
 masters of hounds at checks and critical times, requesting them 
 to note that they were out, in order to ask for certificates of the 
 horses having been "regularly hunted," — a species of regularity than 
 
 i- F 2
 
 436 3IB. SPONGE'S SPOUTING TOUR. 
 
 -whicli nothing could be more irregular. That nuisance, thank 
 goodness, is abated. A steeple-chaser now generally stands on his 
 own merits ; a change for which sportsmen may be thankful. 
 
 But to our story. 
 
 The whole country was in a commotion about this " Aristo- 
 cratic." The unsophisticated looked upon it as a grand reunion 
 of the aristocracy ; and smart bonnets and cloaks, and jackets and 
 ]iarasols were ordered with the liberality incident to a distant view of 
 Christmas. As Yiney sipped his sherry-cobler of an evening, he 
 laughed at the idea of a son-of-a-day labourer like himself raising 
 such a dust. Letters came poimng in to the clerk of the course 
 from all quarters ; some asking about beds ; some about break- 
 fasts ; some about stakes ; some about stables ; some about this 
 thing, some about that. Every room in the Old Duke of Cumber- 
 land was speedily bespoke. Post-horses rose in price, and Dobbin 
 and Srailer, and Jumper and Cappy, and Jessy and Tuml^ler were 
 jobbed from the neighbouring farmers, and converted for the 
 occasion into posters. At last came the great and important day 
 — day big with the fate of thousands of pounds ; for the betting 
 list vermin had been plying their trade briskly throughout the 
 kingdom, and all sorts of rumours had been raised relative to the- 
 qualities and condition of the horses. 
 
 "Who doesn't know the chilling feel of an English spring, or 
 rather of a day at the turn of the year before there is any spring 'i 
 Our gala-day was a perfect specimen of the order — a white frost 
 succeeded by a bright sun, with an east wind, warming one side of 
 the face and starving the other. It was neither a day for fishing, 
 nor hunting, nor coursing, nor anything but farming. The 
 country, save where there were a few lingering patches of turnips, 
 was all one dingy drab, with abundant scalds on the undrainecl 
 fallows. The grass was more like hemp than anything else. Tlie 
 very rushes were yellow and sickly. 
 
 Long before mid-day the whole country was in commotion. 
 The same sort of people commingled that one would expect to see- 
 if there was a balloon to go up, and a man to go down, or be hung 
 at the same place. Fine ladies in all the colours of the rainbow ; 
 and swarthy, beady-eyed dames, with their stalwart, big-calved, 
 basket-carrying comrades ; genteel young people from behind the 
 covmter ; Dandy Candy merchants from behind the hedge ; 
 rough-coated dandies with their silver-mounted whips ; and 
 Shaggyford roughs, in their i)aggy, poacher-like coats, and formid- 
 able clubs ; carriages and four, and carriages and pairs ; and gigs 
 and dog-carts, and "Whitechapels, and Newport Pagncls, and long 
 carts, and short carts, and donkey carts, converged from all' 
 quarters upon the point of attraction at Broom Hill. 
 
 If farmer Scom-gefield had made a mob, he could not have goti.
 
 3IR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 407 
 
 one that would be more likely to do damage to his farm than this 
 steeple-chase one. Nor was the assemblacje confined to the people 
 of the countiy, for the Granddiddle Junction, by its connexion witli 
 the great network of railways, enabled all patrons of this truly 
 national sport to sweep down upon the spot like flocks of wolves ; 
 and train after train disgorged a generous mixture of sharps and 
 flats, commingling with coatless, baggy-brceched vagabonds, tlie 
 emissaries most likely of the Peeping Toms and Infallible Joes, 
 if not the worthies themselves. 
 
 "Dear, but it's a oiohle sight ! " exclaimed Yiney to "Watchorn 
 as they sat on their horses, below a rickety green-baize covered 
 scaffold, labelled, " Graxd Stand ; admission, Two-and-sixpcnce," 
 raised against Sconrgcfield's stack-yard wall, eyeing the population 
 pouring in from all parts. " Dear, but it's a noble sight ! " said 
 lie, shading the sun from his eyes,, and endeavouring to identify 
 the different vehicles in the distance. " Yonder's the 'bus comin' 
 again," said he, looking towards the station, " loaded like a 
 market-gardener's turnip-waggon. That'll 7;^?/," added he, with 
 a knowing leer at the landlord of the Hen Angel, Newington 
 Butts. " And who have we here, with the four horses and sky- 
 blue flunkies ? Jawleyford, as I live ! " added he, answering 
 liimself ; adding, " The beggar had better pay me what he owes." 
 
 How great Mr. Yiney was ! Some people, who have never had 
 anything to do with horses, think it incumbent upon them, when 
 they have, to sport top-boots, and accordingly, for the first time 
 in his life, Yiney appears in a pair of remarkably hard, tight, 
 country-made boots, above which are a pair of baggy, white cords, 
 \vith the dirty finger-marks of the tailor still upon them. He 
 sports a single-breasted green cutaway coat, with basket-buttons, 
 a black satin roll-collared waistcoat, and a new white silk bat, that 
 shines in the bright sun like a fish-kettle. His blue-striped kerchief 
 is secured by a butterfly brooch. Who ever saw an innkeeper that 
 could resist a brooch ? 
 
 He is riding a miserable rat of a badly-clipped, mouse-coloured 
 pony, that looks like a velocipede under him. 
 
 His companion Mr. Watchorn, is very great, and hardly condes- 
 cends to know the countiy people who claim his acquaintance as a 
 Jmntsman. He is a Hotel Keeper — master of the Hen Angel, 
 Newington Butts, Enoch Wriggle stands beside them, dressed 
 in the imposing style of a cockney sportsman. He has been puffing 
 *■' Sir Danapalus (the Bart.)" in public, and talcing all the odds he 
 can get against him in private. Watchorn knows that it is easiei' 
 to make a horse lose than win. The restless-looking, lynx-eyed 
 caitiff, in the dirty green shawl, with his hands stuffed into the fi'ont 
 pockets of the brown tarrinr coat, is their jockey, the renowned 
 Captain Han gallows ; he answers to the name of Sam Slick in
 
 4£8 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 ]\[r. Spavin, tlie horse-dealer's yard in Oxford Street, when 
 not in the country on similar excursions, to the present. And 
 now in the throng on the principal line are two conspicuous 
 horses — a piehald and a white — carrying Mr. Sponge and 
 Lucy Glitters. Lucy appears as she did on the frosty-day 
 hunt, glowing with health and beauty, and rather straining the 
 seams of Lady Scattercash's habit with the additional cmhojipoint 
 she has acquired by early hours in the country. She has made 
 Mr. Sponge a white silk jacket to ride in, which he has on under 
 his grey tarriar coat, and a cap of the same colour is in his hard 
 hat. He has discarded the gosling-green coi'ds for cream- 
 coloured leathers, and, to please Lucy, has actually substituted a 
 pair of rose-tinted tops for the "'hogany bouts." Altogether he is 
 a great swell, and very like the bridegroom. 
 
 But hark — what a crash ! The leaders of Sir Hariy Scatter- 
 cash's drag start at a blind fiddler's dog stationed at the gate lead- 
 ing into the fields, a wheel catches the post, and in an instant the 
 sham captains are scattered about the road : — Bouncey on his head, 
 Seedeybuck across the wheelers, Quod on his back, and Sir Harry 
 astride the gate. Meanwhile, the old fiddler, regardless of the shouts 
 of the men and the shrieks of the ladies, scrapes away with the 
 appropriate tune of " The Devil among the Tailors ! " A rush to 
 the horses' heads arrests fiu-ther mischief, the dislodged captains 
 are at length righted, the nerves of the ladies composed, and Sir 
 Harry once more essays to drive them up the hill to the stand. 
 That feat being accomplished, then came the unloading, and 
 consternation, and huddling of the tight-laced occupants at the 
 idea of these female U'omen coming amongst them, and the usual 
 peeping and spying, and eyeing of the '■^creatures.'''' "What 
 impudence ! " " Well, I think ! '' " 'Pon my word ! " - What 
 next ! " — exclamations that were pretty vrell lost upon the fair 
 objects of them amid the noise and flutter and confusion of the 
 scene. But hark again ! What's up now ? 
 
 " Ilooraj ! " " Jioovaj ! " " h-o-o-o-vsij ! " " Three cheers for the 
 Squire ! H-o-o-o-yslj ! " Old Puff as we live ! The " amazin' instance 
 of a pop'Iar man " greeted by the Swillingford snobs. The old fi'ost- 
 bitten dandy is flattered by the cheers, and bows condescendingly ere 
 he alights from the well-appointed mail phaeton. See how graciously 
 the ladies receive him, as, having ascended the stairs, he appears 
 among them. " A man is never to old to marry " is their maxim. 
 
 The cry is still, " They come ! they come ! " See at a hand- 
 gallop, with his bay pony in a white lather, rides Pacey, grinning 
 from ear to ear, with his red-backed betting-book peeping out of 
 the breast pocket of his brown cutaway. He is staring and 
 gaping to see who is looking at him. 
 
 Pacey has made such a book as none but a wooden-headed boy
 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPOETING TOUR. 439 
 
 like himself could make. He has been suifeited with tips. Peep- 
 ing Tom advised him to back Daddy Longlega ; and, nvllus error, 
 Sneakino^ Joe has counselled him that the " Baronet " will be 
 •" California Avithout cholera, and gold without danger ; " while 
 Jemmy something, the jockey, who advertises that his " tongue is 
 not for falsehood framed," though we should think it was framed 
 for nothing else, has urged him to back Parvo to half the amount of 
 the iiatio?i9i debt. 
 
 Altogether, Paccy has made such a mess that he cannot possibly 
 win, and may lose almost any sum from a thousand pomuls, down 
 to a hundred and eighty. Mr. Sponge has got well on witli him, 
 through the medium of Jack Spraggon. 
 
 Pacey is now going to what he calls " compare " — see that he 
 has got his bets booked right ; and, throwing his right leg over 
 his cob's neck, he blobs on to the ground ; and leaving the pony 
 to take care of itself, disappears in the crowd. 
 
 What a hubbub ! what roarings, and shoutings, and recoguis- 
 ings !!* "Bless my heart ! who'd have thought of seeing you ? " 
 and, " By jingo ! what's sent you here ? " 
 
 "My dear Waffles," cries Jawleyford, rushing up to our 
 Laverick Wells friend (who is looking very debauched), "I'm over- 
 joyed to see you. Do come up-stairs and see Mrs. Jawleyford 
 and the dear girls. It was only last night we Avcre talking about 
 you." And so Jawleyford hurries Mr. Waffles off, just as 
 Waffles is in extremis about his horse. 
 
 Looking around the scene there seems to be everybody that we 
 have had the pleasure of introducing to the reader in the course 
 of Mr. Sponge's Tour. IMr. and Mrs. Spriugwheat in their dog- 
 cart, Mrs. Springcy's figure, looking as though " wheat had got 
 above forty, my lord ; " old Jog and his handsome wife in the 
 ugly old phaeton, well garnished with children, and a couple of 
 sticks in the rough peeping out of the apron, Gustavus James 
 held up in his mother's arms, with the curly blue feather nodding 
 over his nose. There is also Farmer Peastraw, and faces that a 
 patient inspection enables us to appropriate to Dribble, and Hook, 
 and Capon, and Calcot, and Lumpleg, and Crane of Crane Hall, 
 and Charley Slapp of red-coat times — people look so different in 
 plain clothes to what they do in hunting ones. Here, too, is 
 George Cheek, running down with perspiration, having run over 
 from Dr. Latherington's, for which he will most likely " catch it " 
 when he gets back ; and oh, wonder of wonders, here's Robert 
 Foozle himself! 
 
 " Well, Robert, you've come to the steeple-chase ? " 
 
 " Yes, I've come to the steeple-chase." 
 
 " Are you fond of steeple-chases ? " 
 
 " Yes, I'm fond of steeple-chases."
 
 440 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 " I dare say, you never were at one before," observes his mother. 
 
 " No, I never was at one before," replies Robert. 
 
 And though last not least, here's Facey Eomford, with his arm 
 in a sling, on Mr. Hobler, come to look after that sivin-p'und-ten, 
 which we wish he may get. 
 
 Hark ! there's a row below the stand, and Viney is seen in a 
 state of excitement inquiring for Mr. Washball. Pacey has 
 objected to a gentleman rider, and Guano and Puffington have 
 differed on the point. A nice, slim, well-put-on lad (Buckram's 
 roughrider) has come to the scales and claimed to be allowed B lbs. 
 as the Honourable Captain Boville. Finding the point questioned, 
 he abandons the " handle," and sinks into plain Captain Boville. 
 Pacey now objects to him altogether. 
 
 " S-c-e-u-s-e me, sir ; s-c-e-u-s-e me, sir," simpers our friend 
 Dick Bragg, sidling up to the objector with a sort of tendency of 
 his turn-back-wristed hand to his hat. " S-c-e-u-s-e mc, sir ; 
 s-c-e-u-s-e me," repeats he, " but I think you was wrong, sir, in 
 objecting to Captain Boville, sir, as a gen'l'man rider, sir." 
 
 " Why ? " demands Pacey, in the full flush of victory. 
 
 " Oh, sir — because, sir — in fact, sir — he is a gen'l'man, sir." 
 
 " Is a gentleman ! How do you know ? " demands Pacey, in 
 the same tone as before. 
 
 " Oh, sir, he's a gen'l'man — an undoubted gen'l'man. Every- 
 thing about him shows that. Does nothing — breeches by 
 Anderson — boots by Bartley ; besides which, he drinks wine every 
 day, and has a whole box of cigars in his bedroom. But don't 
 take my word for it, pray," continued Bragg, seeing Pacey 
 was wavering ; don't take my word for it, pray. There's a 
 gen'l'man, a countryman of his somewhere about,'' added he, 
 looking anxiously into the surrounding crowd — " there's a 
 gen'l'man, a countryman of his somewhere about, if we could but 
 find him," Bragg standing on his tiptoes, and exclaiming, " Mr. 
 Buckram ! Mr. Buckram ! Has anybody seen anything of Mr. 
 Buckram ! " 
 
 " Here ! " replied a meek voice from behind ; upon which 
 there was an elbowing through the crowd, and presently a most 
 respectable, rosy-gilled, grey-haired hawbuck-looking man, attired 
 in a new brown cut-away, with bright buttons and a velvet collar, 
 with a buff waistcoat, came twirling an ash-stick in one hand, and 
 fumbling the silver in his drab trousers' pocket with the other, in 
 ffont of the bystanders. 
 
 " Oh ! 'ere he is ! " exclaimed Bragg, appealing to the stranger 
 with a hasty " You know Captain Boville, don't you ? " 
 
 "Why, now, as to the matter of that," replied the gentleman, 
 gathering all the loose silver up into his hand, and speaking veiy 
 slowly, just as a country gentleman, who has all the livelong day
 
 Mil. SPONGE'S SPORT IXG TOUR. -141 
 
 to do nothinp; in, may be supposed to speak — " Why, now, as to 
 the matter of that," said he, eyeing Pacey intently, and beginning 
 to dro]") the silver slowly as he spoke, " I can't say that I've any 
 very 'ticklar 'quaintance with the captin. I knows him, in course, 
 just as one knows a neighbour's son. The captin's a good deal 
 younger nor me," continued he, raising his neweight-and-sixpenny 
 Parisian, as if to show his sandy grey hair. " I'm a'most sixty ; 
 and he, I dare say, is little more nor twenty," dropping a half- 
 crown as he said it. "But the captin's a nice young gent — a nice 
 young gent, without any blandishment, I should say ; and that's 
 more nor one can say of all young gents now-a-days," said 
 Buckram, looking at Pacey as he spoke, and dropping two con- 
 secutive half-crowns. 
 
 " Why, but you live near him, don't you ? " interrupted Bragg. 
 
 " Near him," repeated Buckram, feeling his well-shaven chin 
 thoughtfully. "Why, yes — that's to say, near his dad. The fact 
 is," continued he, " I've a Jittle independence of my own," 
 dropping a heavy five-shilling piece as he said it, " and his father 
 — old Bo, as I call him — adjoins me ; and if either of us 'appen 
 to have a haitue, or a 'aunch of wenzun, and a few friends, we 
 inwite each other, and wicey wersey, you know," letting ofl' a lot of 
 shillings and sixpences. And just at the moment the blind fiddler 
 struck up "The Devil among the Tailors," when the shouts and 
 laughter of the mob closed the scene. 
 
 And now gentlemen, who heretofore have shown no more of the 
 jockey than Cinderella's feet in the early part of the pantomime 
 disclose of her ball attire, suddenly cast off the pea-jackets and 
 bearskin wraps, and shawls and over-coats of winter, and shine 
 forth in all the silken flutter of summer heat. 
 
 We know of no more humiliating sight than misshapen gentle- 
 men playing at jockeys. Playing at soldiers is bad enough, but 
 playing at jockeys is infinitely worse — above all, playing at steeple- 
 chase jockeys, combining, as they generally do, all the worst 
 features of the hunting-field and racecourse — unsympathising 
 boots and breeches, dirty jackets that never fit, and caps that 
 ■won't keep on. What a fiU'ce to see the great bulky fellows go to 
 scale with their saddles strapped to their backs, as if to illustrate 
 the impossibility of putting a round of beef upon a pudding-plate ! 
 
 But the weighed in ones are mounting. See, there's Jack 
 Spraggon getting a hoist on to Daddy Longlegs ! Did ever 
 mortal see such a man for a jockey ? He has cut off the laps of a 
 stunner tartan jacket, and looks like a great backgammon-board. 
 He has got his head into an old gold-banded military foraging-cap, 
 which comes down almost on to the rims of his great tortoiseshell 
 spectacles. Lord Scamperdale stands with his hand on the horse's 
 mane, talking earnestly to Jack, doubtless giving him his final
 
 442 MR. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUR. 
 
 instructions. Otlier jockeys emerge from various parts of the 
 farm-buildings ; some out of stables ; some out of cow-houses ; 
 others from beneath cart-sheds. The scene becomes enlivened 
 with the varied colours of the riders — red, yellow, green, blue, 
 violet, and stripes Avithout end. Then comes the usual difficulty c-f 
 identifying the parties, many of whose mothers wouldn't know them. 
 
 " That's Captain Tongs," observes Miss Simperley, " in the 
 blue. I remember dancing with him at Bath, and he did nothing 
 but talk about steeple-chasing." 
 
 " And who's that in yellow ? " asks j\Iiss Hardy. 
 
 " That's Captain Gander," replies the c-cutleman on her left. 
 
 " AVell, I think he'll win,'' replies the lady. 
 
 " I'll bet you a pair of gloves he doesn't," snaps Miss Moore, 
 who fancies Captain Pusher, in the pink. 
 
 " What a squat little jockey ! " exclaims Miss Hamilton, as a 
 little dumpling of a man in Lincoln green is led past the stand on 
 a fine bay horse, some one recognising the rider as our old friend 
 Caingey Thornton. 
 
 " And look who comes here ? " whispers Miss Jawleyford to her 
 sister, as Mr. Sponge, having accomplished a mount without 
 derangement of temper, rides Hercules quietly past the stand, his 
 whip-hand resting on his thigh, and his head turned to his fair 
 companion on the white. 
 
 " Oh, the urdcli ! " sneers Miss Amelia ; and the fair sisters 
 look at Lucy and then at him with the utmost disgust. 
 
 Mr. Sponge may now be doubled up by half a dozen falls ere 
 cither of them would suggest the propriety of having him bled. 
 
 Lucy's cheeks are rather blanched with the "pale cast of 
 thought," for she is not sufficiently initiated in the mysteries of 
 steeple-chasing to know that it is often quite as good for a man 
 to lose as to win, which it had just been quietly arranged between 
 Sponge and Buckram should Ije the case on this occasion. Buckram 
 having got uncommonly "well on " to the losing tune. Perhaps, 
 however, Lucy was thinking of the peril, not the profit of the thing. 
 
 The young ladies on the stand eye her with mingled feelings 
 of pity and disdain, while the elderly ones shake their heads, call 
 her a bold hussy — declare she's not so pretty — adding that they 
 " wouldn't have come if they'd known," &c. &c. 
 
 But it is half past two (an hour and a half after time), and 
 there is at last a disposition evinced by some of the parties to go to 
 the post. Broad-backed partycoloured jockeys are seen converging 
 that Avay, and the betting-men close in, getting more and more 
 clamorous for odds. What a hubbub ! How they bellow ! How 
 they roar ! A universal deafness seems to have come over the 
 whole of them. " Seven to one 'gain the Bart. ! " screams one — 
 " I'll take eight ! " roars another. " Five to one agen Hcrc'lcs ! "
 
 2IL. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUP. 443 
 
 cries a third — " Done ! " roars a fourth. "Twice over ! " rejoins 
 tlie other — "Done !" replies the taker. "Ar'll take live to one 
 n^in the Daddy ! "— " I'll lay six ! " " Whafc'U any one lay 'gin 
 I'arvo ? " And so they raise such an uproar that the squeaky 
 squeak, squca/c of the 
 
 " Devil among the tailors," 
 is hardly heard. 
 
 Then, in a partial lull, the voice of Lord Scamperdalo rises, ex- 
 claiming, " Oh, you hideous Hobgoblin, bull-and-mouth of a boy ! 
 you think, because I'm a lord, and can't swear, or use coarse 
 language " And again the hubbub, led on by the 
 
 " Devil among the tailors," 
 
 drowns the exclamations of the speaker. It's that Pacey again ; 
 lie's accusing the virtuous Mr. Spraggon of handing his extra 
 weight to liord Scaraperdale ; and Jack, in the full consciousness 
 of injured guilt, intimates that the blood of the Spraggons won't 
 f-tand that — that there's "only one way of settling it, and he'll be 
 ready for Pacey half an hour after the race." 
 
 At length the horses are all out — one, two, three, four, five, six, 
 seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen — 
 fifteen of them, moving about in all directions ; some taking an 
 up-gallop, others a down : some a spicy trot, others walking to 
 and fro ; while one has still his muzzle on, lest he should unship 
 his rider and eat him ; and another's groom follows, imploring the 
 mob to keep off his heels if they don't want their heads in their 
 hands. The noisy bell at length simimons the scattered forces to 
 the post, and the variegated riders form into as good a line as 
 circumstances will allow. Just as Mr. Sponge turns his horse's 
 head Lucy hands him her little silver sherry-flask, which our friend 
 drains to the dregs. As he returns it, with a warm pressure of her 
 soft hand, a pent-up flood of tears burst their bounds, and suffuse 
 her lustrous eyes. She turns away to hide her emotion ; at the 
 Bame instant a wild shout rends the air — " W-h-i-r-r ! They're off ! ". 
 
 Thirteen get away, one turns tail, and our friend in the Lincoln 
 green is left performing a fas seiil, asking the rearing horse, with 
 an oath, if he thinks " he stole him ? " while the mob shout and 
 roar ; and one wicked wag, in coaching parlance, advises him to 
 pay the difTerence, and get inside. 
 
 But what a display of horsemanship is exhibited by the flyers \ 
 Tongs comes off at the first fence, the horse making straight for a 
 pond, while the rest rattle on in a mass. The second fence is 
 small, but there's a ditch on the far side, and Pusher and Gander 
 severally measure their lengths on the rushy pasture beyond. 
 Still there are ten left, and nobody ever reckoned upon these 
 L'ctting to the far end.
 
 444 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 " Master wins, for a 'uudr'd ! " exclaims Leather, as, gettiuj^ 
 into tlic third field, Mr. Sponge takes a decided lead ; and Lucy, 
 encouraged by the sound, looks up, and sees her " white jacket " 
 throwing the dry fallow in the faces of the field. 
 
 "6>^, "how I hope he tvill I " exclairos she, clasping her hands, 
 with upturned eyes ; but when she ventures on another look, she 
 gees old Spraggon drawing upon him, Hangallows's flaming red 
 jacket not far off, and several others nearer than she liked. Still 
 the tail was beginning to form. Another fence, and that a big one, 
 draws it out. A striped jacket is down, and the horse, after a vain 
 leffort to rise, sinks lifeless on the ground. On they go all the same ! 
 
 Loud yells of exciting betting burst from the spectators, and 
 Buckram gets well on for the cross. 
 
 There are now five in front — Sponge, Spraggon, Hangallows, 
 Boville, and another ; and already the pace begins to tell. It 
 wasn't possible to run it at the rate they started. Spraggon 
 makes a desperate effort to get the lead ; and Sponge, seeing 
 Boville handy, pulls his horse, and lets the light-weight make play 
 over a rough, heavy fallow with the chestnut. Jack spurs and 
 flogs, and grins and foams at the mouth. Thus they get half 
 ■round the oval course. They are now directly in front of the hill, 
 iind the spectators gaze with intense anxiety ; — now vociferatintr 
 the name of this horse, now of that ; now shouting " Red jacket ! " 
 now " White ! " while the blind fiddler perseveres with the old 
 melody of — " The Devil among the Tailors." 
 
 " Now they come to the brook ! " exclaims Leather, who has 
 been over the ground ; and as he speaks, Lucy distinctly sees Mr. 
 Sponge's gather and eflbrt to clear it ; and — oh, horror ! — the 
 horse falls — he's down — no, he's up ! — and her lover's in his seat 
 again ; and she flatters herself it was her sherry that saved him. 
 Splash ! — a horse and rider duck under ; three get over ; two go 
 in ; now another clears it, and the rest turn tail. 
 
 "What splashing and screaming, and whipping and spurring, 
 and how hopeless the chance of any of them to recover their lost 
 ground. The race is now clearly between five. Now for the wall ! 
 It's five feet high, built of heavy blocks, and strong in the staked- 
 out part. As he nears it, Jack sits well back, getting Daddy 
 Longlegs well by the head, and giving him a refresher with the 
 whip. It is Jack's last move ! His horse comes, neck and crop, 
 over, rolling Jack up like a ball of worsted on the far side. At 
 the same moment, Multum-in-Parvo goes at it full tilt ; and not 
 rising an inch, sends Captain Boville flying one way, his saddle 
 another, himself a third, and the stones all ways. Mr. Sponge 
 then slips through, closely followed by Hangallows and a jockey 
 in yellow, with a tail of three after them. They then put on all 
 the steam they can raise over the twenty-acre pasture that follows.
 
 MB. SPONGIJ'S SFOBTING TOUR. 445- 
 
 The white ! — the red !— the yallor ! The red !— the white .'—the 
 y.aller ! and anybody's race ! A sheet would cover them I — crack i 
 whack ! crack ! how they flog ! Hercules springs at the sound. 
 
 Many of the excited spectators begin hallooing, and straddling^ 
 and working their arms as if their gestures and vociferations- 
 would assist the race. Lord Scamperdale stands transfixed. He 
 is staring through his silver spectacles at the awkwardly lying ball 
 that represents poor Spraggon. 
 
 ^^ By Heavens/^' exclaims he, in an undertone to himself, "/ 
 believe he's Jcilled/" And thereupon he swung down the stand- 
 stairs, rushed to his horse, and clapping spurs to his sides, struck- 
 across the country to the spot. 
 
 Long before he got there the increased uproar of the spectators 
 announced the final struggle ; and looking over his shoulder, he 
 saw white jacket hugging his horse home, closely followed by red, 
 and shooting past the winning-post. 
 
 " Dash that Mr. Sponge ! " gi'owled his lordship, as the cheers 
 of the winners closed the scene. 
 
 " The brute's won, in spite of him ! " gasped Buckram, tm-nin;> 
 deadly pale at the sight. 
 
 CHAPTER LX. 
 
 HOW OTHER THINGS CAME OFF. 
 
 'TwERE hard to say whether Lucy's joy at Sponge's safety, or 
 Lord Scamperdale's grief at poor Spraggon's death, was most 
 overpowering. Each found relief in a copious flood of tears. 
 Lucy sobbed and laughed, and sobbed and laughed again ; and 
 seemed as if her little heart would burst its bounds. The mob, 
 ever open to sentiment — especially the sentiment of beauty — 
 cheered and shouted as she rode with her lover from the winning 
 to the Aveighing-post. 
 
 "A', she's a bonny wn.'" exclaimed a countiyman, looking 
 intently up in her face. 
 
 " She is that ! " cried another, doing the same. 
 
 "Three cheers for the lady ! " shouted a tall Shaggyford rough, 
 taking off his woolly cap, and waving it. 
 
 "Hoo-rsij ! hoo-vaj ! hoo-raj I " shouted a group of flannel-clad 
 navvies. 
 
 " Three for white jacket ! " then roared a blue-coated butcher, 
 who had won as many half-crowns on the race.— Three cheers 
 were given for the unwilling winner.
 
 44G MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 "■ Ob, my poor dear Jack ! " exclaimed his lordship, throwing 
 himself off his horse, and wringing his hands in despair, as a select 
 party of thimble-riggers^ who had gone to Jack's assistance, raised 
 him up, and turned his ghastly face, with his eyes squinting inside 
 out, and the foam still on his mouth, full upon him. " Oh, my 
 poor dear Jack ! " repeated his lordship, sinking on his knees beside 
 him, and grasping his stiffening hand as he spoke. His lordship 
 sunk overpowered upon the body. 
 
 The thimble-riggers then availed themselves of the opportunity 
 to case his lordship and Jack of their watches and the few shillings 
 they had about them, and departed. 
 
 AV'hen a lord is in distress, consolation is never long in coming ; 
 and Lord Scampcrdale had hardly got over the first paroxysms of 
 grief, and gathered up Jack's cap, and the fragments of his 
 spectacles, ere Jawleyford, who had noticed his abrupt departure 
 from the stand, and scurry across the country, arrived at the spot. 
 His lordship was still in the full agony of woe ; still grasping and 
 bedewing Jack's cold hand with his tears. 
 
 " Oh, my dear Jack ! Oh, my dear Jawleyford ! Oh, my dear 
 Jack ! " sobbed he, as he mopped the fast-chasing tears from his 
 grizzly cheeks with a red cotton kerchief. " Oh, my dear Jack ! 
 0\\, my dear Jawleyford ! Oh ! my dear Jack ! " repeated he, as a 
 fresh liood spread o'er the rugged surface. " Oh, what a tr-reasure, 
 what a tr — tr — trump he was. Shall never get such another. 
 Nobody could s — s — lang a fi — fi — field as he could ; no hu — hu 
 — humbug 'bout him — never was su — su — such a fine natural bl 
 — bl — blackguard ; " and then his feelings wholly choked his 
 utterance as he recollected how easily Jack was satisfied ; how he 
 could dine olT tripe and cow-heel, mop up fat porridge for break- 
 fast, and never grumbled at being put on a bad horse. 
 
 The news of a man being killed soon reached the hill, and drew 
 the attention of the mob from our hero and heroine, causing such 
 a spread of population over the farm as must have been highly 
 gratifying to Scourgefield, who stood watching the crashing of the 
 fences and the demolition of the gates, thinking how he was paying 
 his landlord off". 
 
 Seeing the rude, unmannerly character of the mob, Jawleyford 
 got his lordship by the arm, and led him away towards the hill, his 
 lordship reeling, rather than walking, and indulging in all sorts 
 of wild, incoherent cries and lamentations. 
 
 " Sing out, Jack ! sing out ! " he would exclaim, as if in the 
 agony of having his hounds ridden over ; then, checking himself, 
 he would shake his head and say, " Ah, poor Jack, poor Jack ! 
 shall never luck upon his like again — shall never get such a man 
 to read the riot act, and keep all square." And then a fresh gush 
 •of tears sulfused his grizzly face.
 
 Mil. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 447 
 
 The minor casnnltics of those few butchering spasmodic 
 moments may be briefly dismissed, though they were more 
 numerous than most sportsmen see out hunting in a h'fetime. 
 
 One horse broke his back, another was drowned, Multum-in- 
 Parvo Avas cut all to pieces, his rider had two ribs and a thumb 
 broken, while Farmer Slyfield's stack-yard was fired by some of the 
 itinerant tribe, and all its uninsured contents destroyed — so that his 
 landlord was not the only person who suffered by the grand occasion. 
 
 Xor was this all, for Mr. Numboy, the coroner, hearing of 
 Jack's death, held an inquest on the body ; and, having cm- 
 panncled a matter-of-fact jury — men who did not see the advan- 
 tage of steeple-chasing, either in a political, commercial, agricul- 
 tural, or national point of view, and who, having surveyed the 
 line, and found nearly every fence dangerous, and the wall and 
 brook doubly so, returned a verdict of manslaughter against Mr. 
 Viney for setting it out, who was forthwith committed to the 
 county gaol of Limbo Castle for trial at the ensuing assizes, from 
 whence let us join the benevolent clerk of arraigns in wishing him 
 a good deliverance. 
 
 Many of the hardy '* tips " sounded the loud trump of victory, 
 proclaiming that their innumerable friends had feathered their 
 nests through their agency ; but Peeping Tom, and Infallible Joe, 
 and Enoch Wriggle, the " offending soul," &c., found it con- 
 venient to bolt from their respective establishments, carrying with 
 them their large fire-screens, camp-stools, and boards for posting up 
 their lists, and setting up in new names in other quarters ; while 
 the Hen Angel was shortly afterwards closed, and the presentation- 
 tureen made into " white soup." 
 
 Our noble master's nerves were so dreadfully shattered by the 
 lamentable catastrophe to poor Jack, that he stepped, or rather 
 was pushed, into Jawlcyford's carriage almost insensibly, and 
 driven from the course to Jawleyford Court. 
 
 There he remained sufficiently long for ]\Irs. Jawleyford to 
 persuade him that he would be far better married, and that either 
 of her amiable daughters would make him a most excellent wife. 
 His lordship, after very mature consideration, and many most 
 scrutinising stares at both of them through his formidable 
 spectacles, wondering which would be the least likely to ruin 
 him — at length decided upon taking Miss Emily, the youngest, 
 though for a long time the victory was doubtful, and Amelia 
 practised her " Scaraperdale " singing with unabated ardour and 
 confidence up to the last. "We believe, if the truth were known, 
 it was a slight touch of rouge, that Amelia thought would clench 
 the matter, that decided his lordship against her. Emily, we are 
 happy to say, makes him an excellent wife, and has not got her 
 head turned by becoming a countess. She has improved his
 
 448 MB. SPONGE'S SPOETING TOUR. 
 
 lordship amazingly, got him smart new clothes, and persuaded 
 him to grow bushy whiskers right down under his chin, and is 
 now feeliug her way to a pair of mustaches. 
 
 Woodmansterne is quite another place. She has marshalled a 
 proper establishment, and got him coaxed into the long put-a-way 
 company rooms. Though he still indulges in his former cow-heel 
 and other delicacies, they do not appear upon table ; while he 
 sports his silver-mounted specs on all occasions. The fruit and 
 venison are freely distributed, and we have come in for a haunch 
 in return for our attentions. 
 
 Best of all. Lady Scamperdale has got his lordship to erect a 
 handsome marble monument to poor Jack, instead of the cheap 
 country stone he intended. The inscription states that it was 
 erected by Samuel, Eighth Earl of Scamperdale, and Yiscounfc 
 Hardup, in the Peerage of Ireland, to the Memory of John 
 Spraggon, Esquire, the best of Sportsmen, and the firmest of 
 Friends. Who or what Jack was, nobody ever knew, and as he 
 only left a hat and eighteen pence behind him, no next of kin has 
 as yet cast up. 
 
 Jawleyford has not stood the honour of the Scamperdale 
 alliance quite so well as his daughter ; and when our " amazin' 
 instance of a pop'lar mau," instigated perhaps by the desire ta 
 have old Scamp for a brother-in-law, offered to Amelia, Jaw got 
 throaty and consequential, hemmed and hawed, and pretended 
 to be stiff about it. Puff, however, produced such weighty 
 testimonials, as soon exercised their wonted influence. In due 
 time Puff very magnanimously proposed uniting his pack with 
 Lord Scamperdale's, dividing the expense of one establishment 
 between them, to which his lordship readily assented, advising 
 Puff to get rid of Bragg by giving him the hounds, which he did j 
 and that great sporting luminary may be seen " s-c-e-u-s-e "-ing 
 himself, and offering his service to masters of hounds any Monday 
 at Tattersall's — though he still prefers a "quality place." 
 
 Benjamin Buckram, the gentleman with the small indepen- 
 dence of his own, we are sorry to say has gone to the " bad," 
 Aggravated by the loss he sustained by his horse winning the 
 steeple- chase, he made an ill-advised onslaught on the cash-box of 
 the London and Westminster Bank ; and at three score years and 
 ten, this distinguished " turfite," who had participated with im- 
 punity in nearly all the great robberies of the last forty years, was- 
 doomed to transportation. And yet we have seen this cracksman 
 captain — for he, too, was a captain at times — jostling and bellow- 
 ing for odds among some of the highest and noblest of the 
 land ! 
 
 Leather has descended to the cab-stand, of which he promises- 
 to be a distinguished ornament. He haunts the Piccadilly stands.
 
 3fR. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUR. 449 
 
 and has what he calls " 'stablish'd a raw " on Mr. Sponge to the 
 extent of thrce-and-sixpence a week, under threats of exposing the 
 robbery Sponge committed on onr friend Mr. Waffles. That 
 volatile genius, we are happy to add, is quite well, and open to the 
 attentions of any young lady who thinks she can tame a wild 
 young man. His financial aft'airs are not irretrievable. 
 
 And now for the hero and heroine of our tale. The Sponges — 
 for our friend maiTied Lucy shortly after the steeple-chase — 
 stayed at Nonsuch House until the bailiffs walked in. Sir Harry 
 then bolted to Boulogne, where he shortly afterwards died, and 
 Bugles very properly married my lady. They are now living at 
 Wandsworth ; Mr. Bugles and Lady Scattercash, very " much 
 thought of " — as Bugles says. 
 
 Although Mr. Sponge did not gain as much by winning the 
 steeple-chase as he would have done had Hercules allowed him to 
 lose it, he still did pretty well ; and being at length starved out of 
 Nonsuch House, he arrived at his old quarters, the Bantam, in 
 Bond Street, where he turned his attention very seriously to pro- 
 viding for Lucy and the little Sponge, who had now issued its 
 prospectus. He thought over all the ways and means of making 
 money without capital, rejecting Australia and California as unfit 
 for sportsmen and men fond of their "Moggs." Professional 
 steeple-chasing Lucy decried, declaring she would rather return to 
 her flag-exercises at Astley's, as soon as she was able, than have 
 her dear Sponge risking his neck that way. Our friend at length 
 began to fear fortune-making was not so easy as he thought — 
 indeed, he was soon sure of it. 
 
 One day as he was staring vacantly out of the Bantam coffee- 
 room window, between the gilt labels, " Hot Soups," and " Din- 
 ners," he was suddenly seized with a fit of virtuous indignation at 
 the disreputable frauds practised by unprincipled adventurers on 
 the unwary public, in the way of betting-offices, and resolved that 
 he would be the St. George to slay this great dragon of abuse. 
 Accordingly, after due consultation with Lucy, he invested his all 
 in fitting up and decorating the splendid establishment in Jermyn 
 Street, St. James's, now known as the Sponge Cigar and Betting 
 Rooms, whose richness neither pen nor pencil can do justice to. 
 
 AVe must, therefore, entreat our readers to visit this emporium 
 of honesty, where, in addition to finding lists posted on all the 
 great events of the day, they can have the use of a " Mogg " 
 while they indulge in one of Lucy's unrivalled cigars ; and noble- 
 men, gentlemen, and officers in the household troops, may be 
 accommodated with loans on their personal security to any 
 amount. We see by Mr. Sponge's last advertisements that he has 
 £116,300 to lend at three-and-a-half per cent. ! 
 
 " AVhat a farce," we fancy we hear some enterprising youngster
 
 450 
 
 ME. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 exclaim, — " what a farce, to suppose that such a needy scamp as 
 Mr. Sponge, who has been cheating everybody, has any money to 
 lend, or to pay bets \Yith if he loses ! " Right, young gentleman, 
 right ; but not a bit greater farce than to suppose that any of the 
 plausible money-lenders, or infallible " tips " with whom you, per- 
 liaps, have had connection have any either, in case it's called for. 
 Nay, bad as he is, we'll back old Soapey to be better than any of 
 them, — with which encomium we most heartily bid him Adieij. 
 
 MR. AND MRS. SPONGE ! "
 
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