MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 305 



against the thin lath-and-plaster wall that separated their rooms, 

 or rather closets, accompanied by an exclamation of — 



" Halloo, old boy ! how goes it ? " — an inquiry to which 

 our friend deigned no answer. 



" Ord rot ye! you're awake," muttered Facey to himself, well 

 knowing that no one could sleep after such a " Jim-Crow-ing" 

 and " Swiss-boy-ing " as he had given him. He, therefore, 

 resumed his battery, thumping as though he would knock the 

 partition in. 



" Halloo ! " at last exclaimed Mr. Sponge, " who's there ? " 



" Well, old Sivin-Pund-Ten, how goes it ? " asked Facey, in a 

 tone of the keenest irony. 



" You be ! " growled Mr. Sponge, in disgust. 



" Breakfast in half an hour ! " resumed Facey. " Pigs' -puddin's 

 and sarsingers — all 'ot — pipin' 'ot ! " continued our host. 



" Wish you were pipin' 'ot," growled Mr. Sponge, as he jerked 

 himself out of his little berth. 



Though Facey pumped him pretty hard during this second pig 

 repast, he could make nothing out of Sponge with regard to his 

 movements — our friend parrying all his inquiries with his " Mogg," 

 and assurances that he could amuse himself. In vain Facey 

 represented that his Oncle Gilroy would be expecting them ; that 

 Mr. Hobler was ready for him to ride over on : Sponge wasn't 

 inclined to shoot, but begged Facey wouldn't stay at home on his 

 account. The fact was, Sponge meditated a bolt, and was in close 

 confab with Leather, in the Eose and Crown stables, arranging 

 matters, when the sound of his name in the yard caused him to 

 look out, when — oh, welcome sight ! — a Puddingpote Bower mes- 

 senger put Sir Harry's note in his hand, which had at length 

 arrived at Jog's through their very miscellaneous transit, called a 

 post. Sponge, in the joy of his heart, actually gave the lad a 

 shilling ! He now felt like a new man. He didn't care a rap for 

 Facey, and, ordering Leather to give him the hack and follow with 

 the hunters, he presently cantered out of town as sprucely as if all 

 was on the square. 



When, however, Facey found how matters stood, he determined 

 to stop Sponge's things, which Leather resisted ; and, Facey 

 showing fight, Leather butted him with his head, sending him 

 backwards down stairs and putting his shoulder out. Leather 

 then marched off with the kit, amid the honours of war. 



