403 MB. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUR. 



"Yes, Sir Harry," replied Peter, leaving the room. 



Presently Peter's white legs were seen wending their way among 

 the laurels and evergreens, in the direction of Mr. Watchorn's 

 house ; he having a house and grass for six cows, all whose milk, 

 he declared, went to the puppies and young hounds. Luckily, or 

 unluckily, perhaps, Mr. Watchorn was at home, and was in the 

 net of shaving as Peter entered. He was a square-built, dark- 

 laced, dark-haired, good-looking, ill-looking fellow, who cultivated 

 his face on the four-course system of husbandry. First, he had a 

 bare fallow — we mean a clean shave ; that of course was followed 

 by a full crop of hair all over, except on his upper lip ; then he 

 had a soldier's shave, off by the ear ; which in turn was followed 

 by a Newgate frill. The latter was his present style. He had 

 now no whiskers, but an immense protuberance of bristly black 

 hair, rising like a wave above his kerchief. Though he cared no 

 more about hunting than his master, he was very fond of his red 

 coat, which he wore on all occasions, substituting a hat for a cap 

 when " off duty," as he called it. Having attired himself in his 

 best scarlet, of which he claimed three a year, — one for wet days, 

 one for dry days, another for high days — very natty kerseymere 

 shorts and gaiters, with a small-striped, standing-collar, toilcnctte 

 waistcoat, he proceeded to obey the summons. 



" Watchorn," said Sir Harry, as the important gentleman 

 appeared at the breakfast-room door, — " Watchorn, these young 

 (hiccup) gentlemen want a (hiccup) hunt." 



" ! want must be their master, Sir 'Any," replied Watchorn, 

 with a broad grin on his flushed face, for he had been drinking all 

 night, and was half drunk then. 



" Can't you manage it ? " asked Sir Harry, mildly. 



" 'Ow is't possible, Sir 'Any," asked the huntsman, " 'ow is't 

 possible ? No man's fonder of 'untin' than I am, but to turn out 

 on sich a day as this would be a daring — a desperate violation of 

 all the laws of registered propriety. The Pope's bull would be 

 nothin' to it ! " 



" How so ? " asked Sir Harry, puzzled with the jumble. 



" How so ? " repeated Watchorn ; " how so ? Why, in the fust 

 place, it's a mortal 'ard frost, 'arder nor hiron ; in the second place, 

 I've got no arrangements made, — you can't turn out a pack of 'igh- 

 bred fox-'ounds as you would a lot of 'staggers' or ' muggers ; ' 

 and, in the third place, you'll knock all your nags to bits, and they 

 are a deal better in their wind than they are on their legs, as it is. 

 No, Sir 'Any — no," continued he, slowly and thoughtfully. "No, Sir 

 'Any, no. Be Cardinal Wiseman, for once, Sir 'Any ; be Cardinal 

 Wiseman for once, and don't think of it." 



" Well," replied Sir Harry, looking at George Check, "I suppose 

 there's no help for it." 



