MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 165 



" The coolc perhaps has," replied Mr. Spigot, as if it was quite 

 out of his line. 



" Well, go and ask her," said Sponge ; " and bring some hot 

 water and things, the same as we had last night, you know." 



Mr. Spigot retired, and presently returned, bearing a tray with 

 three-quarters of a bottle of brandy, which he impressed upon 

 their minds was the " cook's oivn." 



" I dare say," hiccupped Jack, holding the bottle up to the light. 



" Hope she wasn't using it herself," observed Sponge. 



"Tell her we'll (hiccup) her health," hiccupped Jack, pouring a 

 liberal potation into his tumbler. 



" That'll be all you'll do, I dare say," muttered Spigot to him- 

 self, as he sauntered back to his pantry. 



" Does Jaw stand smoking ? " asked Jack, as Spigot disappeared. 



" Oh I should think so," replied Sponge ; " a friend like you, 

 I'm sure, would be welcome " — Sponge thinking to indulge in a 

 cigar, and lay the blame on Jack. 



" Well, if you think so," said Jack, pulling out his cigar-case, or 

 raoher his lordship's, and staggering to the chimney-piece for a 

 match, though there was a candle at his elbow, " I'll have a pipe." 



" So'll I," said Sponge, " if you'll give me a cigar." 



"Much yours as mine," replied Jack, handing him his lordship's 

 richly embroidered case with coronets and ciphers on either side, 

 the gift of one of the many would-be Lady Scamperdales. 



" Want a light ! " hiccupped Jack, who had now got a glow- 

 worm end to his. 



"Thanks," said Sponge, availing himself of the friendly overture. 



Our friends now whiffed and puffed away together — whiffing 

 and puffing where whiffing and puffing had never been known 

 before. The brandy began to disappear pretty quickly ; it was 

 better than the wine. 



" That's a n — n — nice — ish horse of yours," stammered Jack, as 

 he mixed himself a second tumbler. 



" Which ? " asked Sponge. 



" The bur — bur — brown," spluttered Jack. 



" He is that" replied Sponge ; "best horse in this country by far." 



" The che— che — chest— nut's not a ba— ba — bad un, I dare 

 say," observed Jack. 



" No, he's not," replied Sponge ; " a deuced good un." 



" I know a man who's rather s — s — s — sweet on the b — b — br — 

 brown," observed Jack, squinting frightfully. 



Sponge sat silent for a few seconds, pretending to be wrapt up 

 in his " sublime tobacco." 



" Is he a buyer, or just a jawer ? " he asked at last. 



" Oh, a luyer" replied Jack. 



" I'll sell,'''' said Sponge, with a strong emphasis on the sell. 



