MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 391 



" Thank'ee, no ; thank'ee, no. I've a book in my pocket," 

 replied Sponge, diving into his jacket-pocket ; adding, as he fished 

 up his Mogg, " always carry a book of light reading about with 

 me." 



" What, you're a literary cove, are you ? " asked Facey, in a 

 tone of surprise. 



"Not exactly that," replied Sponge; "but I like to improve 

 my mind." He then opened the valuable work, taking a dip into 

 the Omnibus Guide — "Brentford, 7 from Hyde Park Corner — 

 European Coffee House, near the Bank, daily," and so worked his 

 way on through the " Brighton Railway Station, Brixton, Bromley 

 both in Kent and Middlesex, Bushey Heath, Camberwell, Camden 

 Town, and Carshalton," right into Cheam, when Facey, who had 

 been eyeing him intently, not at all relishing his style of proceeding 

 and wishing to be doing, suddenly exclaimed, as he darted up — 



" B-o-y Jove ! You've not heard me play the flute ! No more 

 you have. Dash it, how remiss ! " continued he, making for the 

 little book-shelf on which it lay ; adding, as he blew into it and 

 sucked the joints, " you're musical, of course ? " 



" Oh, I can stand music," muttered Sponge, with a jerk of his 

 head, as if a tune was neither here nor there with him. 



" By Jingo ! you should see me Oncle C-ilroy when a'rm 

 playin' ! The old man act'ly sheds tears of delight — he's so 



Indeed," replied Sponge, now passing on into Mogg's Cab Fares 

 — " Aldersgate Street, Hare Court, to or from Bagnigge-Wells," 

 and so on, when Facey struck up the most squeaking, discordant, 

 broken-winded 



"Jump Jim Crow," 



that ever was heard, making the sensitive Sponge shudder, and 

 setting all his teeth on edge. 



" Hang me, but that flute of yours wants nitre, or a dose of 

 physic, or something most dreadful ! " at length exclaimed he, 

 squeezing up his face as if in the greatest agony, as the laboured — 



" Jump about and wheel about " 



completely threw Sponge over in his calculation as to what he 

 could ride from Aldgate Pump to the Pied Bull at Islington for. 



" Oh, no ! " replied Facey, with an air of indifference, as he 

 took off the end and jerked out the steam. " Oh, no — only wants 

 work — only wants work," added he, putting it together again, 

 exclaiming, as he looked at the now sulky Sponge, " Well, what 

 shall it be ? " 



Whatever you please," replied our friend, dipping frantically 



