124 31 B. 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 puff, which nearly blinded Jawleyford. " Get on, 

 and let's see how he goes," added he, passing on to the piebald as 

 he spoke. 



Mr. Jawleyford then mounted ; and having settled himself into 

 a military scat, touched the old screw with the spur, 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 

 Eriggs-like passes and efforts to open ; the gate and his horse seem- 

 ing to have combined to prevent his getting through. Though 

 an expert swordsman, he had never been able to accomplish, 

 the art of opening a gate, especially one of those gingerly-balanced 

 spriug-sneckccl 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 



