MP. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 131 



" Don't 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 

 lie hadn't a tail," retorted Jawleyford, nettled at the tone in which 

 Jack had addressed him. 



" Tail be ! " replied Jack, with a sneer ; " who 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 — ick!" 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 ; Mr. 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 snuff, exclaiming, as he dismissed the 

 balance from his fingers by a knock against his thigh, " Oh, my mon, 

 aw 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 the 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. What a commotion was there ! How pale some 

 looked ! How happy others ! 



" Sing out, Jack ! for Twav&rCs sake, sing out! " exclaimed Lord 

 Scamperdale ; an enthusiastic sportsman, always as eager for a run 

 as if he had never seen one. " Sing 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 ! Frag don't 

 spoil your own sport ! Pray remember they're his lordship's 



