32 MR. SPONGE'S SrOItTING TOUR. 



hunters and a hack, much to the satisfaction of the neighbouring 

 master of hounds and his huntsman ; for Waffles had ridden over and 

 maimed more hounds to his own share, during the two seasons he 

 had been at Oxford, than that gentleman had been in the habit of > 

 appropriating to the use of the whole university. Corresponding 

 with that gentleman's delight at getting rid of him was Mr. Sloc- 

 dolager's dismay at his appearance, for fully satisfied that Oxford 

 was the seat of fox-hunting as well as of all the other arts and 

 sciences, Mr. "Waffles undertook to enlighten him and his huntsman 

 on the mysteries of their calling, and " Old Sloe," as he was called, 

 being a very silent man, while Mr. Waffles was a very noisy one, Sloe 

 was nearly talked deaf by him. 



Mr. Waffles was just in the hey-day of hot, rash, youthful indis- 

 cretion and extravagance. He had not the slightest idea of the value 

 of money, and looked at the fortune he was so closely approaching as 

 perfectly inexhaustible. His room's, the most spacious and splendid 

 at that most spacious and splendid hotel, the " Imperial," were filled 

 with a profusion of the most useless but costly articles. Jewellery 

 without end, pictures innumerable, pictures that represented all sorts 

 of imaginary sums of money, just as they represented all sorts of 

 imaginary scenes, but whose real worth or genuineness would never 

 be tested till the owner wanted to u convert them." 



Mr. Waffles was a " pretty man." Tall, slim, and slight, with 

 long curly light hair, pink and white complexion, visionary whiskers, 

 and a tendency to moustache that could best be seen sideways. He 

 had light blue eyes; while his features generally were good, but ex- 

 pressive of little beyond great good-humour. In dress, he was both 

 smart and various ; indeed, we feel a difficulty in fixing him in any 

 particular costume, so frequent and opposite were his changes. He 

 had coats of every cut and colour. Sometimes he was the racing 

 man with a bright-button'd Newmarket brown cut-away, and white- 

 cord trousers, with drab cloth-boots ; anon, he would be the officer, 

 and shine forth in a fancy forage cap cocked jauntily over a profu- 

 sion of well-waxed curls, a richly -braided surtout, with military over- 

 alls strapped down over highly-varnished boots, whose hypocritical 

 heels would sport a pair of large rowelled, long-necked, ringing, brass 

 spurs. Sometimes he was a Jack tar, with a little glazed hat, a once- 

 round tye, a checked shirt, a blue jacket, roomy trousers, and 

 broad-stringed pumps ; and, before the admiring ladies had well di- 

 gested him in that dress, he would be seen cantering away on a long- 

 tailed white barb, in a pea-green duck-hunter, with cream-coloured 

 leather and rose-tinted tops. He was 



"All things by turns, and nothing long." 



Such was the gentleman elected to succeed the silent, matter-of- 

 fact Mr. Slocdolager in the important office of Master of the Laver- 



