MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 131 



" Don't you see it's a hare ? " added he, amidst the uproarious 

 mirth of the company. 



" I haven't your great staring specs on, or I should have seen 

 he hadn't a tail," retorted Jawleyford, nettled at the tone in which 

 Jack had addressed him. 



" Tail be ! " replied Jack, with a sneer ; " who but a 



tailor would call it a tail ? " 



Just then a light low squeak of a whimper was heard in the 

 thickest part of the gorse, and Frostyface cheered the hound to 

 the echo. " Hoick to Pillager ! H — o—o — ic/c ! " screamed he, 

 in a long-drawn note, that thrilled through every frame, and set 

 the horses a-capering. 



Ere Frosty's prolonged screech was fairly finished, there was 

 such an outburst of melody, and such a shaking of the gorse- 

 bushes, as plainly showed there was no safety for Reynard in 

 cover ; and great was the bustle and commotion among the horse- 

 men. Mr. Fossick lowered his hat-string and ran the fox's tooth 

 through the button-hole ; Fyle drew his girths ; Washball took a 

 long swig at his hunting horn-shaped monkey ; Major Mark and 

 Mr. Archer threw away their cigar ends ; Mr. Bliss drew on his 

 dogskin gloves ; Mr. Wake rolled the thong of his whip round the 

 stick, to be better able to encounter his puller ; Mr. Sparks got a 

 yokel to take up a link of his curb ; George Smith and Joe Smith 

 looked at their watches ; Sandy McGregor, the factor, filled his 

 great Scotch nose with Irish snuff", exclaiming, as he dismissed the 

 balance from his fingers by a knock against his thigh, " Oh, my mon, 

 aw think this tod will gie us a ran ! " while Blossomnose might 

 be seen stealing gently forward, on the far side of a thick fence, for 

 the double purpose of shirking Jawleyford, and getting a good start. 



In the midst of these and similar preparations for the fray, up 

 went a whip's cap at the lower end of the cover ; and a volley of 

 "Tallyhos" burst from our friends, as the fox, whisking his white- 

 tipped brush in the air, was seen stealing away over the grassy 

 hill beyond. What a commotion was there ! How pale some 

 looked ! How happy others ! 



" Sing out, Jack ! for heaven's sake, sing out! " exclaimed Lord 

 Scamperdale ; an enthusiastic sportsman, always as eager for a run 

 as if he had never seen one. " Sing out, Jack ; or, by Jove, 

 they'll over-ride 'em at starting ! " 



"Hold hard, gentlemen," roared Jack, clapping spurs into his 

 grey, or rather into his lordship's grey, dashing in front, and draw- 

 ing the horse across the road to stop the progression of the field. 

 "Hold hard, one minute!' 1 '' repeated Jack, standing erect in his 

 stirrups, and menacing them with his whip (a most formidable 

 one). " Whatever you do, pray let them get aAvay ! Pray don't 

 spoil your own sport ! Pray remember they're his lordship's 



