L22 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 



squire. The grecn-and-gold Bumperkin foraging-cap, with 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 worn very high and very hollow, and when waists 

 were supposed to be about the middle of a man's back, Jawley- 

 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 Muggeridge 

 hunt — a hunt that had died many years ago from want of the neces- 

 sary funds (80/.) to carry it on. The coat, which was 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 Mr. 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 adapted 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 was 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. 



