408 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 



acknowledging, and looking about for the means to return the 

 compliment, his friends being more intent upon drinking his 

 health than upon supplying him with wine. At last he caught 

 the third of a bottle of " chumpine," and emptying it into his 

 tumbler, held it up while he thus addressed them : 



" Gen'lemen all ! " said he, " I thank you most 'ticklarly for 

 this mark of your 'tention (applause) ; it's most gratifyin' to my 

 feelins to be thus remembered (applause). I could say a great 

 deal more, but the liquor won't wait. " So saying, he drained off 

 his glass while the wine effervesced. 



" Well, and what d'ye (hiccup) of the weather now ? " asked 

 Sir Harry, as his huntsman again deposited his tumbler on the 

 sideboard. 



" Ton my soul ! Sir 'Arry," replied Watchorn, quite briskly, 

 " I really think we might 'unt — we might try, at all events. The 

 day seems changed, some'ow," added he, staring vacantly out of 

 the window on the bright sunny landscape, with the leafless trees 

 dancing before his eyes. 



"7 "think so," said Sir Harry. "What do you think, Mr. 

 Sponge ? " added he, appealing to our hero. 



" Half an hour may make a great difference," observed Mr. 

 Sponge. " The sun will then be at its best." 



" We'll try, at all events," observed Sir Harry. 



" That's right," exclaimed George Cheek, waving a scarlet 

 bandana over his head. 



" I shall expect you to ride up to the 'ounds, young gent," 

 observed Watchorn, darting an angry look at the speaker. 



" Won't I, old boy ! " exclaimed George ; "ride over you, if you 

 don't get out of the way." 



" 'Deed," sneered the huntsman, whisking about to leave the 

 room ; muttering, as he passed behind the large Indian screen at 

 the door, something about "jawing jackanapes, well called Cheek." 



" ' Unt in 'ah an hour ! " exclaimed Watchorn, from the steps 

 of the front door ; an announcement that was received by the 

 little Eaws, and little Spooneys, and little Baskets, and little 

 Bulgeys, and little Bricks, and little others, with rapturous 

 applause. 



All was now commotion and hurry-scurry inside and out ; 

 glasses were drained, lips wiped, and napkins thrown hastily away, 

 while ladies and gentlemen began grouping and talking about hats 

 and habits, and what they should ride. 



"You go with me, Orlando," said Lady Scattercash to our 

 friend Bugles, recollecting the quantity of diachylon plaster it had 

 taken to repair the damage of his former equestrian performance. 

 " You go with me, Orlando," said she, " in the phaeton ; and I'll 

 lend Lucy," nodding towards Miss Glitters, " my habit and horse." 



