MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 5 



chap's trousers," that were given by ambitious men emulous of his 

 appearance as he passed along, and many were the turnings round 

 to examine their faultless fall upon his radiant boot. The boots, 

 perhaps, might come in for a little of the glory, for they were 

 beautifully soft and cool-looking to the foot, easy without being 

 loose, and he preserved the lustre of their polish, even up to 

 the last moment of his walk. There never was a better man for 

 getting through dirt, either on foot or horseback, than our friend. 

 To the frequenters of the " corner," it were almost superfluous 

 to mention that he is a constant attendant. He has several 

 volumes of "catalogues," with the prices the horses have brought 

 set down in the margins, and has a rare knack at recognising old 

 friends, altered, disguised, or disfigured as they may be — " I've 

 seen that rip before," he will say, with a knowing shake of the 

 head, as some woe-begone devil goes, best leg foremost, up to the 

 hammer, or, "What ! is that old beast back? why he's here every 

 day." No man can impose upon Soapey with a horse. He can 

 detect the rough-coated plausibilities of the straw-yard, equally 

 with the metamorphosis of the clipper or singer. His practised 

 eye is not to be imposed upon either by the blandishments of the 

 bang-tail, or the bereavements of the dock. Tattersall will hail 

 him from his rostrum with — " Here's a horse will suit you, Mr. 

 Sponge ! cheap, good, and handsome ! come and buy him." But 

 it is needless describing him here, for every out-of-place groom 

 and dog-stealer's man knows him by sight. 



CHAPTER II. 



MR. BENJAMIN BUCKRAM. 



Having dressed and sufficiently described our hero to enable 

 our readers to form a general idea of the man, we have now to re- 

 quest them to return to the day of our introduction. Mr. Sponge 

 had gone along Oxford Street at a somewhat improved pace to his 

 usual wont— had paused for a shorter period in the " 'bus " per- 

 plexed " Circus," and pulled up seldomer than usual between the 

 Circus and the limits of his stroll. Behold him now at the Edge- 

 ware Road end, eyeing the 'busses with a wanting-a-ride like air, 

 instead of the contemptuous sneer he generally adopts towards 

 those uncouth productions. Bed, green, blue, drab, cinnamon- 

 colour, passed and crossed, and jostled, and stopped, and blocked, 

 and the cads telegraphed, and winked, and nodded, and smiled, 



