MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 3-W 



" No," replied Mr. Sponge. 



" Rummy lot," observed Mr. Peastraw, with a shake of the head. 



" Are they ? " asked Mr. Sponge. 



" Very ! " replied Mr. Peastraw. " Be the death of Sir Harry 

 among 'em." 



" Who are they all ? " asked Mr. Sponge. 



" Rubbish ! " replied Peastraw with a sneer, diving his hands 

 into the depths of his pockets. "Well, we'd better go in," 

 added he, pulling his hands out and rubbing them, to betoken 

 that he felt cold. 



Mr. Sponge, not being much of a drinker, was more overcome 

 with what he had taken than a seasoned cask would have been ; 

 added to which, the keen night air striking upon his heated frame 

 soon sent the liquor into his head. He began to feel queer. 



" "Well," said he to his host, " I think I'd better be going." 



" Where are you bound for ? ' ' asked Mr. Peastraw. 



" To Puddingpote Bower," replied Mr. Sponge. 



" S-o-o," observed Mr. Peastraw, thoughtfully ; " Mr. Crowdey's 

 — Mr. Jogglebury that was ? " 



" Yes," replied Mr. Sponge. 



" He is a deuce of a man, that, for breakin' people's hedges," 

 observed Mr. Peastraw ; after a pause " he can't see a straight 

 stick of no sort, but he's sure to be at it." 



" He's a great man for walking-sticks," replied Mr. Sponge, 

 staggering in the direction of the stable in which he put his 

 horse. 



The house clock then struck ten. 



" She's fast," observed Mr. Peastraw, fearing his guest might be 

 wanting to stay all night. 



" How far will Puddingpote Bower be from here ? " asked Mr. 

 Sponge. 



" Oh, no distance, sir, no distance," replied Mr. Peastraw, now 

 leading out the horse. " Can't miss your way, sir — can't miss 

 your way. First turn on the right takes you to Collins' Green ; 

 then keep by the side of the church, next the pond ; then go 

 straight forward for about a mile and a half, or two miles, till 

 you come to a small village called Lea Green ; turn short at the 

 finger-post as you enter, and keep right along by the side of the 

 hills till you come to the Winslow Woods ; leave them to the left, 

 and pass by Mr. Roby's farm, at Runton — you'll know Mr. 

 Roby ? " 



" Not I," replied Mr. Sponge, hoisting himself into the saddle, 

 and holding out a hand to take leave of his host. 



" Good night, sir ; good night ! " exclaimed Mr. Peastraw, 

 shaking it ; " and have the goodness to tell Mr. Crowdey from me 

 that the next time he comes here a bush-rangin', I'll thank him to 



