182 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 



" The field, I should tell you, were fairly taken by surprise. 

 There wasn't a man ready for a start ; my horse had only just 

 come down. Fossick was on foot, drawing his girths ; Fyle was 

 striking a light to smoke a cigar on his hack ; Blossomnose and 

 Capon's grooms were fistling and wisping their horses ; Dribble, 

 as usual, was all behind ; and altogether there was such a scene of 

 hurry and confusion as never was seen. 



" As they came to the brook they got somewhat into line, and 

 one saw who was there. Five or six of us charged it together, 

 and two went under. One was Springwhcat on his bay, who was 

 somewhat pumped out ; the other was said to be Hook. Old 

 Daddy Longlegs skimmed it like a swallow, and, getting his hind- 

 legs well under him, shot over the pastures beyond, as if he was 

 going upon turf. The hounds all this time had been running, or 

 rather racing, nearly mute. They now, however, began to feel 

 for the scent ; and, as they got upon the cold, bleak grounds 

 above Somerton Quarries, they were fairly brought to their noses. 

 Uncommon glad I was to see them ; for ten minutes more, at the 

 pace they had been going, would have shaken off every man Jack 

 of us. As it was, it was bellows to mend ; and Calcott's roarer 

 roared as surely roarer never roared before. You could hear him 

 half a mile off. We had barely time, however, to turn our horses- 

 to the wind, and ease them for a few moments, before the pace 

 began to mend, and from a catching to a holding scent they again 

 poured across Walliugburn pastures, and away to Roughacres 

 Court. It was between these places that I got my head duntled 

 into my hat." continued his lordship, knocking the crownless hat 

 agaidst his mud-stained knee. "However, I didn't care a button 

 though I'd not worn it above two years, and it might have lasted 

 me a long time about home ; but misfortunes seldom come singly, 

 and I was soon to have another. The few of us that were left 

 were all for the lanes, and very accommodating the one between 

 Newton Bushell and the Forty-foot Bank was, the hounds running 

 parallel within a hundred yards on the left for nearly a mile. 

 When, however, we got to the old water-mill in the fields below, 

 the fox made a bend to the left, as if changing his mind, and 

 making for Newtonbroome Woods, and Ave were obliged to try the 

 fortunes of war in the fields. The first fence we came to looked 

 like nothing, and there was a weak place right in my line, that I 

 rode at, expecting the horse would easily bore through a few twigs 

 that crossed the upper part of it. These, however, happened to- 

 be twisted, to stop the gap, and not having put on enough steam, 

 they checked him as he rose, and brought him right down on his 

 head in the broad ditch, on the far side. Old Blossomnose, who 

 was following close behind, not making any allowance for falls, 

 was in the air before I was well down, and his horse came with a 



