KB. SrONGE's SPORTING TOUR. 135 



" Tallyho ! " screeched his lordship, riding with his flat hat in 

 the air, by way of exciting the striving field to still further exertion. 



" He's a good-un ! " exclaimed Frosty, eyeing the fox's going. 



11 He is that ! " replied his lordship, staring at him with all his 

 might. 



Then they rode on, and were presently rounding Newington hill 

 themselves, the hounds packing well together and carrying a famous 

 head. 



His lordship now looked to see what was going on behind. 



Scrambleford hill was far in the rear. Jawleyford and the boy 

 in blue were altogether lost in the distance. A quarter of a mile or 

 so this way were a couple of dots of horsemen, one on a white, the 

 other on a dark colour — most likely Jones, the keeper, and Farmer 

 Stubble, on the foaly mare. Then, a little nearer, was a man in a 

 hedge, trying to coax his horse after him, stopping the way of two 

 boys in white trousers, whose ponies looked like rats. Again, a little 

 nearer, were some of the persevering ones — men who still hold on in 

 the forlorn hopes of a check — all dark-coated, and mostly trousered. 

 Then came the last of the red-coats — Tom Washball, Charley Joyce, 

 and Sam Sloman, riding well in the first flight of second horsemen — 

 his lordship's pad-groom, Mr. Fossick's man in drab with a green 

 collar, Mr. Wake's in blue, also a lad in scarlet and a flat hat, with a 

 second horse for the huntsman. Drawing still nearer came the ruck 

 — men in red, men in brown, men in livery, a farmer or two in fustian, 

 all mingled together ; and a few hundred yards before these, and close 

 upon his lordship, were the elite of the field — five men in scarlet and 

 one in black. Let us see who they are. By the powers, Mr. Sponge 

 is first ! — Sponge sailing away at his ease, followed by Jack, who is 

 staring at him through his great lamps, longing to launch out at him, 

 but as yet wanting an excuse ; Sponge having ridden with judgment 

 — judgment at least in everything except in having taken the lead of 

 Jack. After Jack comes old black-booted Blossomnose ; and Messrs. 

 Wake, Fossick, and Fyle, complete our complement of five. They are 

 all riding steadily and well ; all very irate, however, at the stranger 

 for going before them, and ready to back Jack in anything he may 

 say or do. 



On, on they go ; the hounds still pressing forward, though not 

 carrying quite so good a head as before. In truth, they have run 

 four miles in twenty minutes ; pretty good going anywhere except upon 

 paper, where they always go unnaturally fast. However, there they 

 are still pressing on, though with considerably less music than before. 



After rounding Newington Hill, they got into a wilder and worse 

 sort of country, among moorish, ill-cultivated land, with cold un- 

 wholesome-looking fallows. The day, too, seemed changing for the 

 worse ; a heavy black cloud hanging overhead. The hounds were at 

 length brought to their noses. 



