420 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 



Mr. Sponge answered the appeal by turning his horse the way 

 the hounds were feathering, and giving them a slight cheer. 



"'Ordrot it!" roared Watchorn, "do let 'em alone! that's a 

 fresh fox ! our's is over the 'ill," pointing towards Bonnyfield Hill. 



" Hoop ! " hallooed Mr. Sponge, taking off his hat, as Frantic hit 

 off the scent to the right, and Galloper, and Melody, and all the 

 rest scored to cry. 



" Oh, you confounded brown-bouted beggar ! " exclaimed Mr. 

 Watchorn, returning his horn to its case, and eyeing Mr. Sponge 

 and Miss Glitters sailing away with the again breast-high-scent 

 pack. " Oh, you exorbitant usurer ! " continued he, gathering his 

 horse to skate after them. " Well now, that's the most disgraceful 

 proceedin' I ever saw in the whole course of my life. Hang me, if 

 I'll stand such work ! Dash me, but I'll 'quaint the Queen ! — I'll 

 tell Sir George Grey ! I'll write to Mr. Walpole ! Fo-orrard ! 

 fo-orrard ! " hallooed he, as Bob Spangles and Bouncey popped 

 upon him unexpectedly from behind, exclaiming with well-feigned 

 glee, as he pointed to the streaming pack with his whip, " 'Ord 

 dash it, but we're in for a good thing ! " 



Little Bouncey 's horse was still yawning and star-gazing, and 

 Bouncey, being quite unequal to riding and well-nigh exhausted, 

 " downed " him against a rubbing-post in the middle of a field, 

 making a " cannon " with his own and his horse's head, and was 

 immediately the centre of attraction for the panting tail. Bouncey 

 got near a pint of sherry from among them before he recovered 

 from the shock. So anxious were they about him, that not one of 

 them thought of resuming the chase. Even the lagging whips 

 couldn't leave him. George Cheek was presently hors de combat in 

 a hedge, and Watchorn seeing him " see-sawing," exclaimed, as he 

 slipped through a gate, 



" I'll send your mar to you, you young 'umbug." 



Watchorn would gladly have stopped too, for the fumes of the 

 champagne were dead within him, and the riding was becoming 

 every minute more dangerous. He trotted on, hoping each jump 

 of brown boots would be the last, and inwardly wishing the wearer 

 at the devil. Thus he passed through a considerable extent of 

 country, over Harrowdale Lordship, or reputed Lordship, past 

 Roundington Tower, down Sloppyside Banks, and on to Cheeseing- 

 ton Green ; the severity of his affliction being alone mitigated by 

 the intervention of accommodating roads and lines of field gates. 

 These, however, Mr. Sponge generally declined, and went crashing 

 on, now over high places, now over low, just as they came in his 

 way, closely followed by the fair Lucy Glitters. 



" Well, I never see'd sich a man as that ! " exclaimed Watchorn, 

 eyeing Mr. Sponge clearing a stiff flight of rails, with a gap near 

 at hand. " Nor woman nouther ! " added he, as Miss Glitters did 



