MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 381 



" Oh, no," said Mr. Sponge. " Jog, I des-say, '11 be very glad to 

 see you." 



" Oh, you'll be Mr. Sponge ? " observed the stranger, jumping 

 to a conclusion. 



" I am," replied our hero ; adding, " May I ask who I have the 

 honour of addressing." 



" My name's Romford — Charley Romford ; everybody knows me. 

 Very glad to make your 'quaintance," tendering Sponge a great, 

 rough, heavy hand. " I was goin' to call upon you," observed the 

 stranger, as he ceased swinging Sponge's arm to and fro like a 

 pump-handle ; " I was goin' to call upon you, to see if you'd come 

 over to Washingforde, and have some shootin' at me Oncle's — 

 oncle Gilroy's, at Queercove Hill." 



'"■Most happy!'" exclaimed Sponge, thinking it was the very 

 thing he wanted. 



" Get a day with the harriers, too, if you like," continued the 

 shooter, increasing the temptation. 



" Better still ! " thought Sponge. 



"I've only bachelor 'commodation to offer you ; but p'raps you'll 

 not mind roughing it a bit ? " observed Romford. 



" Oh, faith, not I ! " replied Sponge, thinking of the luxuries of 

 Puffington's bachelor habitation. " What sort of stables have you ? " 

 asked our friend. 



" Capital stables — excellent stables ! " replied the shooter ; 

 "stalls six feet in the clear, by twelve dip (deep), iron racks, oak 

 stall-posts covered with zinc, beautiful oats, capital beans, 

 splendacious hay — won without a shower ! " 



"Bravo!" exclaimed Sponge, thinking he had lit on his legs, 

 and might snap his fingers at Jog and his hints. He'd take the 

 high hand, and give Jog up. 



" Fm your man I " said Sponge, in high glee. 



" When will you come ? " asked Romford. 



" To-morrow ! " replied Sponge, firmly. 



" So be it," rejoined his preferred host ; and, with another hearty 

 swing of the arm, the newly made friends parted. 



Charley Romford, or Facey, as he was commonly called, from his 

 being the admitted most impudent man in the country, was a great, 

 round-faced, coarse-featured, prize-fighting sort of fellow, who lived 

 chiefly by his wits, which he exercised in all the legitimate lines of 

 industry — poaching, betting, boxing, horse-dealing, cards, quoits — 

 anything that came uppermost. That he was a man of enterprise, 

 we need hardly add, when he had formed a scheme for doing our 

 Sponge, — a man that we do not think any of our readers would 

 trouble themselves to try a "plant " upon. 



This impudent Facey, as if in contradiction of terms, was 

 originally intended for a civil engineer ; but having early in life 



