202 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUP. 



" Bat if you're as thick as you say, you can have uo difficulty," 

 replied our friend. 



"True," replied Jawleyford ; "but then we go a large party 

 ourselves — two and two's four," said he, " to say nothing of 

 servants ; besides, his lordship mayn't have room — house will most 

 likely be full." 



" Ob, a single man can always be put up ; shake-down — any- 

 thing does for him," replied Sponge. 



"But you would lose your hunting," replied Jawleyford. 

 " Barkington Tower is quite out of Lord Scamperdalo's country." 



" That doesn't matter," replied Sponge ; adding, " I don't 

 think I'll trouble his lordship much more. These Flat Hat 

 gentlemen are not over and above civil, in my opinion." 



"Well," replied Jawleyford, nettled at this thwarting of his 

 attempt, " that's for your consideration. However, as you've come, 

 I'll talk to Mrs. Jawleyford, and see if we can get off the Barking- 

 ton expedition." 



" But don't get off on my account," replied Sponge. " I can 

 stay here quite well. I dare say you'll not be away long." 



This was worse still ; it held out no hope of getting rid of him. 

 Jawleyford therefore resolved to try and smoke and starve him 

 out. When our friend went to dress, he found his old apartment, 

 the state-room, put away, the heavy brocade curtains brown- 

 hollanded, the jugs turned upside down, the bed stripped of its 

 clothes, and the looking-glass laid a-top of it. 



The smirking housemaid, who was just rolling the flreirons up in 

 the hearth-rug, greeted him with a " Please, sir, we've shifted you 

 into the brown room, east," leading the way to the condemned cell 

 that "Jack" had occupied, where a newly-lit fire was puffing out 

 dense clouds of brown smoke, obscuring even the gilt letters on 

 the back of " Mogg's Cab Fares," as the little volume lay qa the 

 toilet-table. 



"What's happened now?" asked our friend of the maid, putting 

 his arm round her waist, and giving her a hearty squeeze. " What's 

 happened now, that you've put me into this dog-hole?" asked he. 



" Oh ! I don't know," replied she, laughing ; " I s'pose they're 

 afraid you'll bring the old rotten curtains down in the other room 

 with smokin'. Master's a sad old wife," added she. 



A great change had come over everything. The fare, the lights, 

 the footmen, the everything, underwent grievous diminution. The 

 lamps were extinguished ; and the transparent wax gave way to 

 Palmer's composites, under the mild influence of whose unsearch- 

 ing light the young ladies sported their dashed dresses with 

 impunity. Competition between them, indeed, was about an end. 

 Amelia claimed Mr. Sponge, should he be worth having, and 

 should the Scamperdale scheme fail; while Emily, having her 



