MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 51 



large silver horse-shoe pin, the shoe being almost large enough for 

 the foot of a young donkey. 



His low, narrow-collared coat was of the infinitesimal order ; 

 that is to say, a coat, and yet as little of a coat as possible — very 

 near a jacket, in fact. The seams, of course, were outside, and were 

 it not for the extreme strength and evenness of the sewing, and the 

 evident intention of the thing, an ignorant person might have sup- 

 posed that he had had his coat turned. A double layer of cloth 

 extended the full length of the outside of the sleeves, much in the 

 fashion of the stage-coachmen's great-coats in former times; and, 

 instead of cuffs, the sleeves were carried out to the ends of the fingers, 

 leaving it to the fancy of the wearer to sport a long cuff, or a short 

 cuff, or no cuff at all — just as the weather dictated. Though the 

 coat was single-breasted, he had a hole made on the button side, to 

 enable him to keep it together by means of a miniature snaffle, instead 

 of a button. The snaffle passed across his chest, from whence the 

 coatee, flowing easily back, displayed the broad ridge and furrow of 

 a white cord waistcoat, with a low step collar, the vest reaching low 

 down his figure, with large flap pockets, and a nick out in front, like 

 a coachman's. Instead of buttons, the waistcoat was secured with 

 foxes' tusks and catgut loops, while a heavy curb chain, passing from 

 one pocket to the other, raised the impression that there was a watch 

 in one and a bunch of seals in the other. The waistcoat was broadly 

 bound with white binding, and, like the coat, evinced great strength 

 and powers of resistance. His breeches were of a still broader fur- 

 row than the waistcoat, looking as if the ploughman had laid two 

 ridges into one. They came low down the leg, and were met by a 

 pair of well-made, well put on, very brown topped boots, a colour 

 then unknown at Laverick Wells. His spurs were bright and heavy, 

 with formidable necks and rowels, whose slightest touch would make 

 a horse wince, and put him on his good behaviour. 



Nor did the great slapping brown horse, Hercules, turn out less 

 imposingly than his master. Leather, though not the man to work 

 himself, had a very good idea of work, and right manfully he made 

 the helpers at the Eclipse livery and bait stables strap and groom 

 his horses. Hercules was a fine animal. It did not require a man 

 to be a great judge of a horse to see that. Even the ladies, though 

 perhaps they would rather have had him a white or a cream colour, 

 could not but admire his nut-brown muzzle, his glossy coat, his silky 

 mane, and the elegant way in which he carried his flowing tail. His 

 step was delightful to look at — so free, so accurate, and so easy. 

 And that reminds us that we may as well be getting Mr. Sponge up 

 — a feat of no easy accomplishment. Few hack hunters are without 

 their little peculiarities. Some are runaways — some kick — some 

 bite — some go tail first on the road — some go tail first at their fences 

 — some rush as if they were going to eat them, others baulk them 



