174 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 



black friend yonder," nodding to where a French bottle like a tall 

 bully was lifting its head above an encircling stand of liqueur- 

 glasses. 



" Suppose you have a little of what we call laced tea, my lord — 

 tea with a dash of brandy in it ? " suggested Mr. Springwheat. 



" Laced tea," repeated his lordship ; " laced tea : so I will," 

 said he. " Deuced good idea — deuced good idea," continued he, 

 bringing the bottle, and seating himself on Mrs. Springwheat's 

 right, while his host helped him to a most plentiful plate of turkey 

 and tongue. The table was now about full, as was the room ; the 

 guests just rolling in as they would to a public-house, and helping 

 themselves to whatever they liked. Great was the noise of eating. 



As his lordship was in the full enjoyment of his plateful of 

 meat, he happened to look up, and, the space between him and 

 the window being clear, he saw something that caused him to drop 

 his knife and fork and fall back in his chair as if he was shot. 



" My lord's ill ! " exclaimed Mr. Springwheat, who, being the 

 only man with his nose up, was the first to perceive it. 



" Clap him on the back ! " shrieked Mrs. Springwheat, who 

 considered that an infallible recipe for the ailments of children. 



" Oh, Mr. Spraggon ! " exclaimed both, as they rushed to his 

 assistance, " what is the matter with my lord ? " 



" Oh that Mister something ! " gasped his lordship, bending 

 forward in his chair, and venturing another glance through the 

 window. 



Sure enough, there was Sponge, in the act of dismounting from 

 the piebald, and resigning it with becoming dignity to his trusty 

 groom, Mr. Leather, who stood most respectfully — Parvo in hand 

 — waiting to receive it. 



Mr. Sponge, being of opinion that a red coat is a passport every- 

 where, having stamped the mud sparks off his boots at the door, 

 swaggered in with the greatest coolness, exclaiming, as he bobbed 

 his head to the lady, and looked round at the company, — 



" What, grubbing away ! grubbing away, eh ? " 



" "Won't you take a little refreshment ? " asked Mr. Springwheat, 

 in the hearty way these hospitable fellows welcome everybody. 



" Yes, I will," replied Sponge, turning to the sideboard as 

 though it were an inn. " That's a monstrous fine ham," observed 

 he ; " why doesn't somebody cut it ? " 



"Let me help you to some, sir," replied Mr. Springwheat, 

 seizing the buck-handled knife and fork, and diving deep into the 

 rich red meat with the knife. 



Mr. Sponge having got two bountiful slices, with a knotch of 

 home-made "brown bread, and some mustard on his plate, now 

 made for the table, and elbowed himself into a place between Mr. 

 Fossick and Sparks, immediately opposite Mr. Spraggon. 



