MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 341 



Having travelled musingly along two or three miles of road, 

 now thinking over the glorious run — now of the gallant way in 

 which Hercules had carried him — now of the pity it was that there 

 was nobody there to see — now of the encounter with Lord 

 Scamperdale, just as he passed a well-filled stack-yard, that had 

 shut out the view of a flaming red brick house with a pea-green 

 door and windows, an outburst of " hoo-vaye, ! " followed by one 

 cheer more — " hooo-r&j ! " made the remaining wild hounds prick 

 up their ears, and our friend rein in his horse, to hear what was 

 " up." A bright fire in a room on the right of the door over- 

 powered the clouds of tobacco-smoke with which the room was 

 enveloped, and revealed sundry scarlet coats in the full glow of 

 joyous hilarity. It was Sir Harry and friends recruiting at 

 Farmer Peastraw's after their exertions ; for, though they could 

 not make much of hunting, they were always ready to drink. 

 They were having a rare set-to — rashers of bacon, wedges of 

 cheese, with oceans of malt-liquor. It was the appearance of a 

 magnificent cold round of home-fed beef, red with saltpetre and flaky 

 with white fat, borne on high by their host, that elicited the applause 

 and the one cheer more that broke on Mr. Sponge's ear as he was 

 passing, — applause that was renewed as they caught a glimpse of 

 his red coat, not on account of his safety or that of the hounds, 

 but simply because being in the cheering mood, they were ready to 

 cheer anything. 



" Hil-loo/ there's Mr. What's-his-name ? exclaimed brother 

 Bob Spangles, as he caught view of Sponge and the hounds 

 passing the window. 



" So there is ! " roared another ; " Hoo-rcuj 1 " 



" Hoo-ray ! " yelled two or three more. 



" Stop him ! " cried another. 



" Call him in," roared Sir Harry, "and let's liquor him." 



" Hilloo ! Mister What 's-your-name ! " exclaimed the other 

 Spangles," throwing up the window. " Hilloo, won't you come in 

 and have some refreshment ? " 



" Who's there ? " asked Mr. Sponge, reining in the brown. 



" Oh, we're all here," shouted brother Bob Spangles, holding 

 up a tumbler of hot brandy-and-water ; " we're all here — Sir 

 Harry and all," added he. 



" But what shall I do with the hounds ? asked Mr. Sponge, 

 looking down upon the confused pack, now crowding about his 

 horse's head. 



" Oh, let the beef-eaters — the scene-shifters — I meant to say 

 the servants — those fellows, you know, in scarlet and black caps, 

 look after them," replied brother Bob Spangles. 



" But there are none of them here," exclaimed Mr. Sponge, 

 looking back on the deserted road. 



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