MB. SPOXGE'S SPOPTIXG TOUE. 325 



possessed of many other accomplishments. Sir Harry would 

 sometimes drink straight an end for a week, and then not taste 

 wine again for a month ; sometimes the hounds hunted, and 

 sometimes they did not ; sometimes they were advertised, and 

 sometimes they were not ; sometimes they went out on one day, 

 and sometimes on another ; sometimes they were fixed to be at such 

 a place, and went to quite a different one. When Sir Harry was 

 on a drinking- bout, they were shut up altogether ; and the huntsman, 

 Tom AVatchorn, late of the "Camberwell and Balham Hill Union 

 Harriers/' an early acquaintance of Miss Spangles — indeed, some 

 said he was her uncle — used to go away on a drinking excursion 

 too. Altogether, they were what the country people called a very 

 " promiscuous set." The hounds were of all sorts and sizes ; the 

 horses of no particular stamp ; and the men scamps and vagabonds 

 of the first class. 



"With such a master and such an establishment, we need hardly 

 say that no stranger ever came into the country for the purpose of 

 hunting. Sir Harry's fields were entirely composed of his own 

 choice " set," and a few farmers, and people whom he could abuse 

 and do what he liked with. Mr. Jogglebury Crowdey, to be sure, 

 had mentioned Sir Harry approvingly, when he went to Mr. Puffing- 

 ton's, to inveigle Mr. Sponge over to Puddingpote Bower ; but 

 what might suit Mr. Jogglebury, who went out to seek gibbey 

 sticks, might not suit a person who went out for the purpose of 

 hunting a fox in order to show off and sell his horses. In fact, 

 Puddingpote Bower was an exceedingly bad hunting quarter, as 

 things turned out. Sir Harry Scattercash, having had the run 

 described in our two preceding chapters, and having just imported 

 a few of the " sock-and-buskin " sort from town, was not likely 

 to be going out again for a time ; while Mr. Puffington, finding 

 where Mr. Sponge had taken refuge, determined not to meet 

 within reach of Puddingpote Bower, if he could possibly help it ; 

 and Lord Scamperdale was almost always beyond distance, unless 

 horse and rider lay out over-night — a proceeding always deprecated 

 by prudent sportsmen. Mr. Sponge, therefore, got more of Mr. 

 Jogglebury Crowdey's company than he wanted, and Mr. 

 Crowdey got more of Mr. Sponge's than he desired. In vain Jog 

 took him up into his attics and his closets, and his various holes 

 and corners, and showed him his enormous crop of sticks — some 

 tied in sheaves, like corn ; some put up more sparingly ; and 

 others, again, wrapped in silver paper, with their valuable heads 

 enveloped in old gloves. Jog would untie the strings of these, and 

 placing the heads in the most favourable position before our friend, 

 just as an artist would a portrait, question him as to whom he 

 thought they were. 



" There, now (puff)," said he, holding up one that he thought 



