374 MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 



his horse, as to procure access to the house, the door of which 

 stood frowningly shut. In this, however, he was mistaken, for no 

 soener had the woman uttered the words, " Well, you can come in 

 and see," than she flaunted into the interior of the room, and 

 commenced a regular series of assaults upon the furniture, throw- 

 ing the hearthrug over one chair back, depositing the fire-irons in 

 another, rearing the steel fender up against the Carrara marble 

 chimney-piece, and knocking things about in the independent way 

 that servants treat unoffending furniture, when master and mistress 

 are comfortably ensconced in bed. "Flop" went the duster again ; 

 "bang" went the furniture ; "knock" this chair went against 

 that, and she seemed bent upon patting all things into that happy 

 state of sixes and sevens that characterises a sale of household 

 furniture, when chairs mount tables, and the whole system of 

 domestic economy is revolutionised. Seeing that he was not 

 going to get anything more for his money, our friend at length 

 turned his horse and found his way to the stables by the unerring 

 drag of carriage-wheels. All things there being as matters were 

 in the house, he put the redoubtable nag into a stall, and helped 

 him to a liberal measure of oats out of the well-stored unlocked 

 corn-bin. He then sought the back of the house by the worn 

 flagged-way that connected it with the stables. The back yard 

 was in the admired confusion that might be expected from the 

 woman's account. Empty casks and hampers were piled and 

 stowed away in all directions, while regiments of champagne and 

 other bottles stood and lay about among blacking bottles, Seltzer- 

 water bottles, boot-trees, bath-bricks, old brushes, and stumpt-up 

 besoms. Several pair of dirty top-boots, most of them with the 

 spurs on, were chucked into the shoe-house just as they had been 

 taken off. The kitchen, into which our friend now entered, was 

 in the same disorderly state. Numerous copper pans stood sim- 

 mering on the charcoal stoves, and the jointless jack still revolved 

 on the spit. A dirty slip-shod girl sat sleeping, with her apron 

 thrown over her head, which rested on the end of a table. The 

 open door of the servants' hall hard by, disclosed a pile of dress 

 and other clothes, which, after mopping up the ale and other slops, 

 would be carefully folded and taken back to the rooms of tlwir 

 respective owners. 



" Halloo ! " cried Mr. Sponge, shaking the sleeping girl by the 

 shoulder, which caused her to start up, stare, and rub her eyes in 

 wild affright. " Halloo ! " repeated he, " what's happened you ? " 



" Oh, beg pardon, sir ! " exclaimed she ; " beg pardon," con- 

 tinued she, clasping her hands ; " I'll never do so again, sir ; no, 

 sir, I'll never do so again, indeed I won't" 



She had just stolen a shape of blanc-mange, and thought she 

 was caught. 



