3G3 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 



away in his roomy trouser-pockets, and leave word that Sir Harry 

 was going to hunt, and would meet before the house. 



Leather, though somewhat muzzy, was sufficiently sober to be 

 able to deliver this message, and acquaint Mr. Sponge with the 

 impossibility of his "ridin' the 'ac." Indeed, he truly said, that 

 he had " been hup with him all night, and at one time thought it 

 was all hover with him," the all-overishness consisting of Mr. 

 Leather being nearly all over the hack's head, in consequence of 

 the animal shying at another drunken man lying across the road. 



Mr. Sponge listened to the recital with the indifference of a man 

 who rides hack-horses, and coolly observed that Leather must take 

 on the chestnut, and he would ride the brown to cover. 



" Couldn't, sir, couldrit" replied Leather, with a shake of the 

 head and a twinkle of his roguish, watery grey eyes. 



" Why not ? " asked Mr. Sponge, who never saw any difficulty. 



" Oh, sur," replied Leather, in a tone of despondency, " it would 

 be quite impossible. Consider wot a day the last one was ; why, 

 he didn't get to rest till three the next mornin'." 



" It'll only be walking exercise," observed Mr. Sponge ; " do 

 him good." 



"Better valk the chestnut," rejolied Mr. Leather ; "Multum-in- 

 Parvo hasn't 'ad a good day this I don't know wen, and will be 

 all the better of a bucketin'." 



" But I hate crawling to cover on my horse," replied Mr. Sponge, 

 who liked cantering along with a flourish. 



'' You'll 'ave to crawl if you ride 'Ercles," observed Leather, "if 

 not walk. Bless you 1 I've been a nussin' of him and the 'ack 

 most the 'ole night." 



" Indeed ! " replied Mr. Sponge, who began to be alarmed lest 

 his hunting might be brought to an abrupt termination. 



"True, as I'm 'ere," rejoined Leather. "He's just as much off 

 his grub as he vos when he com'd in ; never see'd an 'oss more 

 reg'larly dished — more " 



" Well, well," said Mr. Sponge, interrupting the catalogue of 

 grievances ; " I s'pose I must do as you say — I s'pose I must do- 

 as you say : what sort of a day is it ? " 



" Vy, the day's not a bad day ; at least, that's to say, it's not a 

 wery haggrivatin' day. I've seen a betterer day, in course ; but 

 I've also seen many a much worser day, and days at this time of 

 year, you know, are apt to change, — sometimes, in course, for the 

 betterer — sometimes, in course, for the worser." 



" Is it a frost ? " snapped Mr. Sponge, tired of his loquacity. 



" Is it a frost ?" repeated Mr. Leather, thoughtfully ; "is it a 

 fi-ost ? Vy, no ; I should say it isn't a frost, — at least, not a frost 

 to 'urt ; there may be a little rind on the ground and a little 

 rawness in the hair, but the general concatenation " 



