MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 349 



" No," replied Mr. Sponge. 



" Rummy lot," observed Mr. Peastraw, with a shake of the head. 



" Are they ? " asked Mr. Sponge. 



" Very ! " replied Mr. Peastraw. " Be the death of Sir Harry 

 among 'em." 



" Who are they all ? " asked Mr. Sponge. 



" Rubbish ! " replied Peastraw with a sneer, diving his hands 

 into the depths of his pockets. " Well, we'd better go in," 

 added he, pulling his hands out and rubbing them, to betoken 

 that he felt cold. 



Mr. Sponge, not being much of a drinker, was more overcome 

 with what he had taken than a seasoned cask would have been ; 

 added to which, the keen night air striking upon his heated frame 

 soon sent the liquor into his head. He began to feel queer. 



" Well," said he to his host, " I think I'd better be going." 



" Where are you bound for ? ' ' asked Mr. Peastraw. 



u To Puddingpote Bower," replied Mr. Sponge. 



" S-o-o," observed Mr. Peastraw, thoughtfully ; " Mr. Crowdey's 

 — Mr. Jogglebury that was ? " 



" Yes," replied Mr. Sponge. 



" He is a deuce of a man, that, for breakin' people's hedges," 

 observed Mr. Peastraw ; after a pause " he can't see a straight 

 stick of no sort, but he's sure to be at it." 



" He's a great man for walking-sticks," replied Mr. Sponge, 

 staggering in the direction of the stable in which he put his 

 horse. 



The house clock then struck ten. 



" She's fast," observed Mr. Peastraw, fearing his guest might be 

 wanting to stay all night. 



" How far will Puddingpote Bower be from here ? " asked Mr. 

 Sponge. 



" Oh, no distance, sir, no distance," replied Mr. Peastraw, now 

 leading out the horse. "Can't miss your way, sir — can't miss 

 your way. First turn on the right takes you to Collins' Green ; 

 then keep by the side of the church, next the pond ; then go 

 straight forward for about a mile and a half, or two miles, till 

 you come to a small village called Lea Green ; turn short at the 

 finger-post as you enter, and keep right along by the side of the 

 hills till you come to the Winslow Woods ; leave them to the left, 

 and pass by Mr. Roby's farm, at Runton — you'll know Mr. 

 Roby ? " 



" Not I," replied Mr. Sponge, hoisting himself into the saddle, 

 and holding out a hand to take leave of his host. 



" Good night, sir ; good night ! " exclaimed Mr. Peastraw, 

 shaking it ; " and have the goodness to tell Mr. Crowdey from me 

 that the next time he comes here a bush-ransnn', I'll thank him to 



