MB. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUB. 393 



table, with the hot water and sugar, and " Fine London Spirit " 

 bottle, equitably placed between them. 



At first Mr. Sponge was the victor, and by nine o'clock had 

 scored eight-and-twenty shillings against his host, when he was 

 inclined to leave off, alleging that he was an early man, and would 

 go to bed — an arrangement that Facey seemed to come into, only 

 pressing Sponge to accompany the gin he was now helping him- 

 self to with another cigar. This seemed all fair and reasonable ; 

 and as Sponge conned matters over, through the benign influence 

 of the " 'baccy," he really thought Facey mightn't be such a bad 

 beggar after all. 



" Well, then," said he, as he finished cigar and glass together, 

 " if you'll give me eight-and-twenty bob, I'll be off to bedford- 

 shire." 



" You'll give me my revenge surely ! " exclaimed Facey, in pre- 

 tended astonishment. 



" To-morrow night," replied Sponge firmly, thinking it would have 

 to go hard with him if he remained there to give it. 



" Nay, now ! " rejoined Facey, adding, " it's quite early. Me 

 Oncle Gilroy and I always play much later at Qucercove Hill." 



Sponge hesitated. If he had got the money, he w r ould have 

 refused point-blank ; as it was, he thought, perhaps the only 

 chance of getting it was to go on. With no small reluctance and 

 misgivings he mixed himself another tumbler of gin and water, 

 and, changing seats, resumed the game. Nor was our discreet 

 friend far wrong in his calculations, for luck now changed, and 

 Facey seemed to have the king quite at command. In less than 

 an hour he had not only wiped off the eight-and twenty shillings, 

 but had scored three pound fifteen against his guest. Facey would 

 now leave off. Sponge, on the other hand, wanted to go on. 

 Facey, however, was firm. " I'll cut you double or quits, then," 

 cried Sponge, in rash despair. Facey accommodated him and 

 doubled the debt. 



" Again ! " exclaimed Sponge, with desperate energy. 



" No ! no more, thank ye," replied Facey, coolly. " Fair play's 

 a jewel." 



" So it is," assented Mr. Sponge, thinking he hadn't had it. 



" Now," continued Facey, poking into the table-drawer and pro- 

 ducing a dirty scrap of paper, with a little pocket ink-case, " if 

 you'll give me an ' I.O.U.,' we'll shut up shop." 



" An ' I.O.U ! ' " retorted Sponge, looking virtuously indignant. 

 — " An ' I.O.U ! ' I'll give you your money i' the mornin'." 



" I know you will," replied Facey, coolly, putting himself in 

 boxing attitude, exclaiming, as he measured out a distance, " just 

 feel the biceps muscle of my arm — do believe I could fell an 

 ox. However, never mind," continued he, seeing Sponge 



