394 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 



declined the feel. " Life's uncertain : so you give me an ' I. 0. U.' 

 and we'll be all right and square. Short reckonin's make long 

 friends, you know," added he, pointing peremptorily to the 

 paper. 



" I'd better give you a cheque at once," retorted Sponge, looking 

 the very essence of chivalry. 



" Money, if you please," replied Facey ; muttering, with a jerk 

 of his head, "don't like paper." 



The renowned Sponge, for once, was posed. He had the money, 

 but he didn't like to part with it. So he gave the 



Seven bounds Sfen Sliillings. 

 W7 ro 0. 



& 



j)oncjt 



■and, lighting a twelve-to-the-pound candle, sulked off to undress 

 and crawl into the little impossibility of a bed. 



Night, however, brought no relief to our distinguished friend ; 

 for, little though the bed was, it was large enough to admit lodgers, 

 and poor Sponge was nearly worried by the half- famished vermin, 

 who seemed bent on making up for the long fast they had endured 

 since the sixteen-hands-man left. Worst of all, as day dawned, the 

 eternal " Jim Crow" recommenced his saltations, varied only with 

 the 



" Come, arouse ye, my merry Swiss boy " 



of " me Oncle Gilroy." 



" "Well, dash my buttons ! " groaned Sponge, as the discordant 

 noise shot through his aching head, " but this is the worst spec 

 1 ever made in my life. Fed on pork, fluted deaf, bit with bugs, 

 and robbed at cards — fairly, downrightly robbed. Never was a 

 more reg'ler plant put on a man. Thank goodness, however, I 

 haven't paid him — never will, either. Such a confounded, dis- 

 reputable scoundrel deserves to be punished — big, bad, blackguard- 

 looking fellow ! How the deuce I could ever be taken in by such 

 a fellow ! Believe he's nothing but a great poaching blackleg. 

 Hasn't the faintest outlines of a gentleman about him — not the 

 slightest particle — not the remotest glimmerin'." 



These and similar reflections were interrupted by a great thump 



