MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 61 



would be somewhere thereabouts. Well, I suppose weVe all had 

 enough," added he ; " may as well go home and have some luncheon, 

 and then a game at billiards, or rackets, or something. How's the 

 old water-rat ? " added he, turning to Thornton, who was now busy 

 emptying his cap and mopping the velvet. 



The water-rat was as well as could be expected, but did not quite 

 like the new aspect of affairs. He saw that Mr. Sponge was a first- 

 rate horseman, and also knew that nothing ingratiated one man with 

 another so much as skill and boldness in the field. It was by that 

 means, indeed, that he had established himself in Mr. Waffles' good 

 graces — an ingratiation that had been pretty serviceable to him, both 

 in the way of meat, drink, mounting, and money. Had Mr. Sponge 

 been, like himself, a needy, penniless adventurer, Caingey would have 

 tried to have kept him out by some of those plausible admonitory 

 hints, that poverty makes men so obnoxious to ; but in the case of a 

 rich, flourishing individual, with such an astonishing stud as Leather 

 made him out to have, it was clearly Caingey's policy to knock under 

 and be subservient to Mr. Sponge also. Caingey, we should ob- 

 serve, was a bold, reckless rider, never seeming to care for his neck, 

 but he was no match for Mr. Sponge, who had both skill and courage. 



Caingey being at length cleansed from his weeds, wiped from his 

 mud, and made as comfortable as possible under the circumstances, 

 was now hoisted on to the renowned steeple-chase horse again, who 

 had scrambled out of the brook on the taking-off side, and, after 

 meandering the banks for a certain distance, had been caught by the 

 bridle in the branch of a willow — Caingey, we say, being again 

 mounted, Mr. Sponge also, without hindrance from the resolute 

 brown horse, the first whip put himself a little in advance, while old 

 Tom followed with the hounds, and the second whip mingled with 

 the now increasing field, it being generally understood (by the un- 

 initiated, at least) that hounds have no business to go home so long 

 as any gentleman is inclined for a scurrey, no matter whether he has 

 joined early or late. Mr. Waffles, on the contrary, was very easily 

 satisfied, and neve took the shine off a run with a kill by risking a 

 subsequent defeat. Old Tom, though keen when others were keen, 

 was not indifferent to his comforts, and soon came into the way of 

 thinking that it was just as well to get home to his mutton-chops at 

 two or three o'clock, as to be groping his way about bottomless bye- 

 roads on dark winter nights. 



As he retraced his steps homeward, and overtook the scattered 

 field of the morning, his talent for invention, or rather stretching, was 

 again called into requisition. 



" What have you done with him, Tom? " asked Major Bouncer, 

 eagerly bringing his sturdy collar-marked cob alongside of our hunts- 

 man. 



