me. sponge's sporting tour. 243 



" How shall I begin ? " asked Sponge, twirling the pen between 

 his fingers, and spluttering the ink over the paper. 



" Begin ! " replied Jack, " begin, oh, begin, just as you usually 

 begin." 



" As a letter ? " asked Sponge. 



" I 'spose so," replied Jack; " how would you think ? " 



11 Oh, I don't know," replied Sponge. " Will you try your hand?" 

 added he, holding out the pen. 



" Why, I'm busy just now, you see," said he, pointing to his cigar, 

 " and that horse of yours (Jack had ridden the redoubtable chestnut, 

 Multum in Parvo, who had gone very well in the company of Her- 

 cules) pulled so confoundedly that I've almost lost the use of my 

 fingers," continued he, working away as if he had got the cramp in 

 both hands ; " but I'll prompt you," added he, " I'll prompt you." 



" Why don't you begin, then ? " asked Sponge. 



" Begin ! " exclaimed Jack, taking the cigar from his lips ; " be- 

 gin ! " repeated he, " oh, I'll begin directly — didn't know you were 

 ready." 



Jack then threw himself back in his chair, and sticking out his 

 little bandy legs, turned the white,* of his eyes up to the ceiling, as 

 if lost in meditation. 



" Begin," said he, after a pause, " begin, 'This splendid pack had 

 a stunning run.' " 



" But we must put ivliat pack first," observed Sponge, writing the 

 words " Mr. Puffington's hounds" at the top of the paper. " Well," 

 said he, writing on, " this stunning pack had a splendid run." 



" No, not stunning pack" growled Jack, " splendid pack — ' this 

 splendid pack had a stunning run.' " 



"Stop!" exclaimed Sponge writing it down; "well," said he, 

 lookiog up, " I've got it." 



" This stunning pack had a splendid run," repeated Jack, squint- 

 ing away at the ceiling. 



" I thought you said splendid pack," observed Sponge. 



" So I did," replied Jack. 



" You said stunning just now," rejoined he. 



" Ah, that was a slip of the tongue," said Jack. " This splendid 

 pack had a stunning run," repeated Jack, appealing again to his cigar 

 for inspiration; "well then," said he, after a pause, "you just go on 

 as usual, you know," continued he, with a flourish of his great red 

 hand. 



" As usual ! " exclaimed Sponge, " you don't s'pose one's pen 

 goes of itself." 



" Why no," replied Jack, knocking the ashes off his cigar on to 

 the arabesque-patterned tapestry carpet — "why no, not exactly; but 

 these things, you know, are a good deal matter of course ; just de- 



