MB. SPONGE'S SPOETING TOUE. 35 



" I've no notion of a fellow lording 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 raising 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 Mr. Waffles'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 party, 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 offered 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 



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