MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 249 



again was life, energy, and action ; and even some who hoped 

 there was an end of "the thing, and that they might go home and 

 say, as usual, " that they had had a very good run, but not 

 killed," were induced to proceed. 



Away they all went as before. 



At the end of eighteen minutes more the hounds ran into their 

 fox in the little green valley below Mountnessing Wood, and Mr. 

 Bragg had him stretched on the green with the pack baying about 

 him^ and the horses of the field-riders getting led about by the 

 country people, while the riders stood glorying in the splendour of 

 the thing. All had a direct interest in making it out as good as 

 possible, and Mr. Bragg was quite ready to appropriate as much 

 praise as ever they liked to give. 



" 'Ord dim him," said he, turning up the fox's grim head with 

 his foot, " but Mr. Bragg's an awkward customer for gen'lemen of 

 your description." 



"You hunted him well!" exclaimed Charley Slapp, who was 

 trumpeter general of the establishment. 



" Oh, sir," replied Bragg, with a smirk and a condescending 

 bow, " if Richard Bragg can't kill foxes, I don't know who can." 



Just then " Puffington and Co." hove in sight up the valley, 

 their faces beaming with delight as the tableau before them told 

 the tale. They hastened to the spot. 



" How many brace is that?" asked Puffington, with the most 

 matter-of-course air, as he trotted up, and reined in his horse out- 

 side the circle. 



" Seventeen brace, your grace, I mean to say my lord, that's to 

 say sur," replied Bragg, with a strong emphasis on the sur, as if 

 to say, " I'm not used to you snobs of Commoners." 



"Seventeen brace ! " sneered Jack Spraggon to Sponge; adding, 

 in a whisper, " More like seven foxes." 



"And how many run to ground ? " asked Puffington, alighting. 



" Four brace," replied Bragg, stooping to cut off the brush. 



We were wrong in saying that Bragg only allowed Puff the 

 privilege of nodding his head to say when he might throw off. 

 He let him lead the "he gallop " in the kill department. 



Mr. Puffington then presented Mr. Sponge with the brush, and 

 the usual solemnities being observed, the sherry flasks were pro- 

 duced and drained, the biscuits munched, and, amidst the smoke 

 of cigars, the ring broke up-in great good will. 



