110 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 



tribe, who had dropped " quite promiscuously " upon a field where 

 he was, just as Sponge had done with Lord Scamperdale's. 



" Shouldn't wonder," replied his lordship, eyeing Sponge's vain 

 endeavours to turn the chesnut, and thinking how he would 

 " pitch into him " when he came up. " By Jove," added his 

 lordship, "if the fellow had taken the whole country round, he 

 couldn't have chosen a worse spot for such an exploit ; for there 

 never is any scent over here. See ! not a hound can own it. Old 

 Harmony herself throws up ! " 



The whips again are in their places, turning the astonished pack 

 to Frostyface, who sets off on a casting expedition. The field, as 

 usual, sit looking on ; some blessing Sponge ; some wondering 

 who he was ; others looking what o'clock it is ; some dismounting 

 and looking at their horses' feet. 



" Thank you, Mr. Brown Boots ! " exclaimed his lordship, as, 

 by dint of bitting and spurring, Sponge at length worked the 

 beast round, and came sneaking back in the face of the whole 

 field. " Thank you, Mister Brown Boots," repeated he, taking 

 off his hat, and bowing very low. " Very much obleged to you, 

 Mr. Brown Boots. Most particklarly obleged to you, Mr. Brown 

 Boots," with another low bow. " Hang'd obleged to you, Mr. 



Brown Boots ! D n you, Mr. Brown Boots ! " continued his 



lordship, looking at Sponge as if he would eat him. 



" Beg pardon, sir," blurted Sponge ; " my horse " 



" Hang your horse ! " screamed his lordship ; " it wasn't your 

 horse that headed the fox, was it ? " 



" Beg pardon — couldn't help it ; I " 



" Couldn't help it. Hang your helps — you're always doing it, 

 sir. You could stay at home, sir — I s'pose, sir — couldn't you, sir ? 

 eh, sir?" 



Sponge was silent. 



" See, sir ! " continued his lordship, pointing to the mute pack 

 now following the huntsman, " you've lost us our fox, sir — yes, 

 sir, lost us our fox, sir. D'ye call that nothin', sir ? If you don't, 

 / do, you perpendicular-looking Puseyite pig-jobber ! By Jove ! 

 you think because I'm a lord, and can't swear, or use coarse 

 language, that you may do what you like — but I'll take my hounds 

 home, sir — yes, sir, I'll take my hounds home, sir." So saying, 

 his lordship roared home to Frostyface ; adding, in an undertone 

 to the first whip, " bid him go to Furzing-field < 



