446 MB. SPONGE'S SPOBTING TOUB. 



" Oh, my poor dear Jack ! " exclaimed his lordship, throwing 

 himself off his horse, and wringing his hands in despair, as a select 

 party of thimble-riggers, who had gone to Jack's assistance, raised 

 him up, and turned his ghastly face, with his eyes squinting inside 

 out, and the foam still on his mouth, full upon him. " Oh, my 

 poor dear Jack ! " repeated his lordship, sinking on his knees beside 

 him, and grasping his stiffening hand as he spoke. His lordship 

 sunk overpowered upon the body. 



The thimble-riggers then availed themselves of the opportunity 

 to ease his lordship and Jack of their watches and the few shillings 

 they had about them, and departed. 



When a lord is in distress, consolation is never long in coming ; 

 and Lord Scamperdale had hardly got over the first paroxysms of 

 grief, and gathered up Jack's cap, and the fragments of his 

 spectacles, ere Jawleyford, who had noticed his abrupt departure 

 from the stand, and scurry across the country, arrived at the spot. 

 His lordship was still in the full agony of woe ; still grasping and 

 bedewing Jack's cold hand with his tears. 



" Oh, my dear Jack ! Oh, my dear Jawleyford ! Oh, my dear 

 Jack ! " sobbed he, as he mopped the fast-chasing tears from his 

 grizzly cheeks with a red cotton kerchief. " Oh, my dear Jack ! 

 Oh, my dear Jawleyford ! Oh ! my dear Jack ! " repeated he, as a 

 fresh flood spread o'er the rugged surface. " Oh, what a tr-reasure, 

 what a tr — tr — trump he was. Shall never get such another. 

 Nobody could s — s — lang a fi — fi — field as he could ; no hu — hu 

 — humbug 'bout him — never was su — su — such a fine natural bl 

 — bl — blackguard ; " and then his feelings wholly choked his 

 utterance as he recollected how easily Jack was satisfied ; how he 

 could dine off tripe and cow-heel, mop up fat porridge for break- 

 fast, and never grumbled at being put on a bad horse. 



The news of a man being killed soon reached the hill, and drew 

 the attention of the mob from our hero and heroine, causing such 

 a spread of population over the farm as must have been highly 

 gratifying to Scourgefield, who stood watching the crashing of the 

 fences and the demolition of the gates, thinking how he was paying 

 his landlord off. 



Seeing the rude, unmannerly character of the mob, Jawleyford 

 got his lordship by the arm, and led him away towards the hill, his 

 lordship reeling, rather than walking, and indulging in all sorts- 

 of wild, incoherent cries and lamentations. 



" Sing out, Jack ! sing out ! " he would exclaim, as if in the 

 agony of having his hounds ridden over ; then, checking himself, 

 he would shake his head and say, " Ah, poor Jack, poor Jack ! 

 shall never look upon his like again — shall never get such a man 

 to read the riot act, and keep all square." And then a fresh gush 

 of tears suffused his grizzly face. 



