28 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 



to follow in as many hours by the rail as it took them days to 

 trudge on foot. 



Railways have helped hunting as well as other things, and 

 enables a man to glide down into the grass " sheers," as Mr. 

 Buckram calls them, with as little trouble, and in as short a time 

 almost, as it took him to accomplish a meet at Croydon, or at the 

 Magpies at Staines. But to our groom and horses. 



Mr. Sponge was too good a judge to disfigure the horses with 

 the miserable, pulpy, weather-bleached job-saddles and bridles of 

 " livery," but had them properly turned out with well-made, 

 slightly-worn London ones of his own, and nice, warm brown 

 woollen rugs, below broadly-bound, blue-and-white-striped sheet- 

 ing, with richly-braided lettering, and blue and white cordings. 

 A good saddle and bridle makes a difference of ten pounds in the 

 looks of almost any horse. There is no need because a man rides 

 a hack-horse to proclaim it to all the world ; a fact that few hack- 

 horse letters seem to be aware of. Perhaps, indeed, they think to 

 advertise them by means of their inferior appointments. 



Leather, too, did his best to keep up appearances, and turned 

 out in a very stud-groomish-looking, basket-buttoned, brown cut- 

 away, with a clean striped vest, ample white cravat, drab breeches 

 and boots, that looked as though they had brushed through a few 

 bullfinches ; and so they had, but not with Leather's legs in them, 

 for he had bought them second-hand of a pad groom in distress. 

 His hands were encased in cat's-skin sable gloves, showing that he 

 was a gentleman who liked to be comfortable. Thus accoutred, 

 he rode down Broad Street at Laverick Wells, looking like a fine, 

 faithful old family servant, with a slight scorbutic affection of the 

 nose. He had everything correctly arranged in true sporting 

 marching order. The collar-shanks were neatly coiled under the 

 headstalls, the clothing tightly rolled and balanced above the little 

 saddle-bags on the led horse, "Multum in Parvo's" back, with 

 the story-telling whip sticking through the roller. 



Leather arrived at Laverick Wells just as the first shades of a 

 November night were drawing on, and anxious mammas and 

 careful chaperons were separating their fair charges from their 

 respective admirers and the dreaded night air, leaving the streets 

 to the gas-light men and youths " who love the moon." The 

 girls having been withdrawn, licentious youths linked arms, and 

 bore down the broad pave, quizzing this person, laughing at 

 that, and staring the pin-stickers and straw-chippers out of 

 countenance. 



" Here's an arrival ! " exclaimed one. " Dash my buttons, who 

 have we here ? " asked another, as Leather hove in sight. " That's 

 not a bad looking horse," observed a third. " Bid him five pounds 

 for it for me," rejoined a fourth. 



