286 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 



" In course not," replied Mr. Plummey, " in course not ; " adding, 

 " I'll do my best, sir — I'll do my best." So saying, he took up the 

 breakfast things and departed. 



Mr. Sponge regaling himself with a cigar in the stables and 

 shrubberies, it was some time before Mr. Plummey had an oppor- 

 tunity of trying his diplomacy upon him, it being contrary to Mr. 

 Plummey's custom to go out of doors after any one. At last he 

 saw Sponge coming lounging along the terrace-walk, looking like a 

 man thoroughly disengaged, and timing himself properly, en- 

 countered him in the entrance. 



" Beg pardon, sir," said Mr. Plummey, " but cook, sir, wishes to 

 know, sir, if you dine here to-day, sir ? " 



"Of course," replied Mr. Sponge, "where would you have me 

 dine?" 



" Oh, I didn't know, sir — only Mr. Puffington, sir, is very poorly, 

 sir, and I thought p'raps you'd be dining out." 



" Poorly is he ? " replied Mr. Sponge ; " sorry to hear that — 

 what's the matter with him ? " 



" Bad bilious attack, I think," replied Plummey — " very 

 subject them, at this time of year particklarly ; was laid up, 

 at least confined to his room, three weeks last year of a similar 

 attack." 



" Indeed ! " replied Mr. Sponge, not relishing the information. 



" Then I must say you'll dine here ? " said the butler. 



" Yes ; I must have my dinner, of course," replied Mr. Sponge. 

 " I'm not ill, you know ; no occasion to make a great spread for 

 me, you know ; but still I must have some victuals, you know." 



" Certainly, sir certainly," replied Mr. Plummey. 



" I couldn't think of leaving Mr. Puffington when he's poorly," 

 observed Mr. Sponge, half to himself and half to the butler. 



" Oh, master — that's to say, Mr. Puffington always does best 

 when left alone," observed Mr. Plummey, catching at the sentence : 

 " indeed the medical men recommend perfect quiet and moderate 

 living as the best thing." 



"Do they," replied Sponge, taking out another cigar. Mr. 

 Plummey then withdrew, and presently went up-stairs to report 

 progress, or rather want of progress, to the gentleman whom he 

 sometimes condescended to call " master." 



Mr. Puffington had been taking another spell at the paper, and 

 we need hardly say, that the more he read of the run the less he 

 liked it. 



" Ah, that's Mr. Sponge's handiwork," observed Plummey, as 

 with a sneer of disgust Mr. Puffington threw the paper from him 

 as Plummey entered the room. 



" How do you know ? " asked Mr. Puffington. 



" Saw it, sir — saw it in the letter-bag going to the post." 



