110 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 



tribe, who had dropped " quite promiscuously " upon a field where 

 he was, just as Sponge 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 throws up ! " 



The whips again are in their places, turning the astonished pack 

 to Frostyface, who sets off 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 

 off his hat, and bowing very low. " Very much obleged to you, 

 Mr. Brown Boots. Most particklarly obleged to you, Mr. Brown 

 Boots," with another low bow. " Hang'd obleged to you, Mr. 



Brown Boots ! D n you, 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, " lid him go to Furzing-fieJd gorse" 



