106 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 



all cubs, poor things ! — all cubs, poor things ! Mr. Puffington's 

 hounds are not the sort of animals to kill foxes : nasty, skirtin', 

 flashy, jealous divils ; always starin' about for holloas and assist- 

 ance* I'll be d — d if I'd give eighteenncnce for the 'ole lot on 

 •era." 



A loud guffaw from the Flat Hat men greeted this wholesale 

 condemnation. The Puffington men looked unutterable things, 

 and there is no saying what disagreeable comparisons might have 

 been instituted (for the Pnffingtonians mustered strong) had not 

 his lordship and Jack cast up at the moment. Hats off and polite- 

 ness was then the order of the day. 



" Mornin'," said his lordship, with a snatch of his hat in return,, 

 as he pulled up and stared into the cloud-enveloped crowd ; 

 " Mornin', Fyle ; mornin', Fossick," he continued, as he distin- 

 guished those worthies, as much by their hats as anything else. 

 " Where are the horses ? " he said to Frostyface. 



" Just beyond there, my lord," replied the huntsman, pointing 

 with his whip to where a cockaded servant was " to-and-froing " 

 a couple of hunters — a brown and a chestnut. 



" Let's be doing," said his lordship, trotting up to them and 

 throwing himself off his hack like a sack. Having divested him- 

 self of his muddy overalls, he mounted the brown, a splendid 

 sixteen hands horse in tip-top condition, and again made for the 

 field in all the pride of masterly equestrianism. A momentary 

 gleam of sunshine shot o'er the scene ; a jerk of the head acted 

 as a signal to throw off, and away they all moved from the 

 meet. 



Thorneybush Gorse was a large eight-acre cover, formed partly 

 of gorse and partly of stunted blackthorn, with here and there a 

 sprinkling of Scotch firs. His lordship paid two pound a-year for 

 it, having vainly tried to get it for thirty shillings, which was- 

 about the actual value of the land, but the proprietor claimed a 

 little compensation for the trampling of horses about it ; moreover, 

 the Puffington men would have taken it at two pounds. It was a 

 sure find, and the hounds dashed into it with a scent. 



The field ranged themselves at the accustomed corner, both 

 hunts full of their previous day's run. Frostyface's " Yoicks, wind 

 him ! " " Yoicks, push him up ! " was drowned in a medley of 

 voices. 



A loud clear shrill " Tally-ho, away ! " from the far side of 

 the cover caused all tongues to stop, and all hands to drop on the 

 reins. Great was the excitement ! Each hunt was determined to 

 take the shine out of the other. 



" Twang, twang, twang ! " " Tweet, tweet, tweet ! " went his 

 lordship's and Frostyface's horns, as they came bounding over the 

 gorse to the spot, with the eager pack rushing at their horses' heels.. 



