322 ME. SPONGE'S SPORTING IOUU. 



to take breath after the exertion. Then he began to rebutton the 

 easy, brown great-coat, going deliberately up the whole series, from 

 the small button below, to keep the laps together, up to the one on 

 the neck, or where the neck would have been if Jog had not been 

 all stomach up to the chin. He then soused himself into his seat, 

 and, snorting heavily through his nostrils, took the reins and whip 

 and long holly from Mr. Sponge, and drove leisurely on. Sponge 

 sat anathematising his slowness. 



When they reached the farm-house on the hill the hounds were 

 fairly in view. The huntsman was casting them, and the horse- 

 men were grouped about as usual, while the laggers were stealing 

 quietly up the lanes and bye-roads, thinking nobody would see 

 them. Save the whites or the greys, our friends in the " chay " 

 were not sufficiently near to descry the colours of the horses ; but 

 Mr. Sponge could not help thinking that he recognized the outline 

 of the wicked chestnut, Multum in Parvo. 



" By the powers, but if it is him," muttered he to himself, 

 clenching his fist and grinding his teeth as he spoke ; " but I'll — 

 I'll — I'll make sich an example of you," meaning of Leather. 



Mr. Sponge could not exactly say what he would do, for it was 

 by no means a settled point whether Leather or he were master. 

 But to the hounds. If it had not been for Mr. Sponge's shabbi- 

 ness at the turnpike-gate, we really believe he might now have 

 caught them up, for the road to them was down hill all the way, 

 and the impetus of the vehicle would have sent the old screw 

 along. That delay, however, was fatal. Before they had gone a 

 quarter of the distance the hounds suddenly struck the scent at a 

 hedge-row, and. with heads up and sterns down, went straight 

 away at a pace that annihilated all hope. They were out of sight 

 in a minute. It was clearly a case of kill. 



"Well, there's a go !" exclaimed Mr. Sponge, folding his arms, 

 and throwing himself back in the phaeton in disgust. " I think 

 I never saw such a mess as we've made this morning." 



And he looked at the stick in the apron, and the long holly 

 between Jog's legs, and longed to lay them about his great back. 



"Well (puff ), I s'pose (wheeze) we may as well (puff) home 

 now ? " observed Jog, looking about him quite unconcernedly. 



" I think so," snapped Sponge ; adding, " we've clone it for once, 

 at all events." 



The observation, however, was lost upon Jog, whose mind was 

 occupied with thinking how to get the phaeton round without upset- 

 ting. The road was narrow at best, and the newly-laid stone-heaps 

 had encroached upon its bounds. He first tried to back between two 

 stone-heaps, but only succeeded in running a wheel into one ; he 

 then tried the forward tack, with no better success, till Mr. Sponge 

 seeing matters were getting worse, just jumped out, and taking 



