238 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 



a gentleman had nothing to do but order his four horses, and have 

 them turned out at every stage as he came up, instead of being 

 stopped in the ridickhus manner he then was ; and he strutted 

 and stamped about the station as if he would put a stop to the 

 whole line. 



His vehemence and big talk operated favourably on the cockney 

 station-master, who, thinking he must be a duke, or some great 

 man, began to consider how to get him forwarded. It being only 

 a thinly-populated district — though there was a station equal to 

 any mercantile emergency, indeed to the requirements of the 

 whole county — he ran the resources of the immediate neighbour- 

 hood through his mind, and at length was obliged to admit — 

 humbly and respectfully — that he really was afraid Martha 

 Muggins's donkey was the only available article. 



Jack fumed and bounced at the very mention of such a thing, 

 vowing that it was a downright insult to propose it ; and he was 

 so bumptious that the station-master, who had nothing to gain by 

 the transaction, sought the privacy of the electric telegraph office, 

 and left him to vent the balance of his wrath upon the porters. 



Of course they could do nothing more than the king of their 

 little colony had suggested ; and rinding there was no help for it, 

 Mr. Spraggon at last submitted to the humiliation, and set off to 

 follow young Muggins with his bag on the donkey, in his best top- 

 boots, worn under his trousers — an unpleasant operation to any 

 one, but especially to a man like Jack, who preferred wearing his 

 tops out against the flaps of his friends' saddles, rather than his 

 soles by walking upon them. However, necessity said yes ; and 

 cocking his flat hat jauntily on his head, he stuck a cheroot in his 

 mouth, and went smoking and swaggering on, looking — or rather 

 squinting— bumptiously at every body he met, as much as to 

 say, " Don't suppose I'm walking from necessity ! I've plenty of 

 tin." 



The third cheroot brought Jack and his suite within sight 

 of Hanby House. 



Mr. Puffington had about got through all the fuss of his 

 preparations, arranged the billets of the guests, and of those 

 scarcely less important personages — their servants, allotted the 

 stables, and rehearsed the wines, when a chance glance through 

 the gaily-furnished drawing-room window discovered Jack trudging 

 up the trimly-kept avenue. 



" Here's that nasty Spraggon," exclaimed he, eyeing Jack 

 dragging his legs along; adding, "I'll be bound to say he'll 

 never think of wiping his filthy feet if I don't go to meet him." 



So saying, Puffington rushed to the entrance, and crowning 

 himself with a white wide-awake, advanced cheerily to do so. 



Jack, who was more used to " cold shoulder " than cordial 



