MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUB. 419 



horse to pass, George Cheek came up from behind, and slipped 

 through before him. 



" Oh, you unrighteous young renegade ! Did ever mortal see 

 sich an uncivilised trick ? " roared Watchorn ; adding, as he 

 climbed on to his horse again, and went spluttering through the 

 frozen turnips after the offender, " You've no 'quaintance with 

 Lord John Manners, I think ! " 



" Oh, dear ! — oh, dear ! " exclaimed he, as his horse nearly 

 came on his head, " but this is the mostpunishin' affair I ever was 

 in at. Puseyism's nothin' to it." And thereupon he indulged 

 in no end of anathemas at Slarkey for bringing the wrong fox. 



" About time to take soundings, and cast anchor, isn't it ? " 

 gasped Captain Bouncey, toiling up red hot on his pulling horse 

 in a state of utter exhaustion, as Watchorn stood craneing and 

 looking at a rasper through which Mr. Sponge and Miss Glitters 

 had passed, without disturbing a twig. 



" C — a — s — t anchor!" exclaimed "Watchorn, in a tone of 

 derision — "not this half hour yet, I hope! — not this/or/?/ minnits 

 yet, I hope ! — not this hoar and twenty minnits yet, I hope ! " 

 continued he, putting his horse irresolutely at the fence. The 

 horse blundered through it, barking Watchorn's nose with a 

 branch. 



" 'Orel rot it, cut off my nose ! " exclaimed he, muffling it up in 

 his hand. " Cut off my nose clean by my face, I do believe," con- 

 tinued he, venturing to look into his hand for it. " Well," said he, 

 eyeing the slight stain of blood on his glove, " this will be a lesson 

 to me as long as I live. If ever I 'unt again in a frost, may I be 



. Thank goodness ! they're chucked at last ! " exclaimed he, 



as the music suddenly ceased, and Mr. Sponge and Miss Glitters 

 sat motionless together on their panting, smoking steeds. 



Watchorn then stuck spurs to his horse, and being now on a 

 flat rushy pasture, with a bridle-gate into the field where the 

 hounds were casting, he hustled across, preparing his horn for a 

 blow as soon as he got there. 



" Twang — twang — huang — twang,'" he went, riding up the 

 hedgerow in the contrary direction to what the hounds leant. 

 " Twang — twang — twang," he continued, inwardly congratulating 

 himself that the fox would never face the troop of urchins he saw 

 coming down with their guns. 



" Hang him ! — he's never that way ! " observed Mr. Sponge, 

 sotto voce, to Miss Glitters. " He's never that way," repeated he, 

 seeing how Frantic flung to the right. 



" Twang — twang — twang" went the horn, but the hounds 

 regarded it not. 



" Do, Mr. Sponge, put the hounds to me ! " roared Mr. Watchorn, 

 dreading lest they might hit off the scent. 



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