mr. sponge's sporting tour. 257 



" Oil, I dare say," whispered Pacey, pretending to be scraping up 

 the orange syrup in his plate; adding, I'm only chaffing the beggar." 



" He looks solitary without the coach at his tail," continued 

 Pacey, looking up, and again addressing Sponge up the table. 



" He does" affirmed Sponge, amidst the laughter of the party. 



Pacey didn't know how to take this; whether as a "sell" or a 

 compliment to his own wit. He sat for a few seconds grinning and 

 staring like a fool; at last, after gulping down a bumper of claret, 

 he again fixed his unmeaning green eyes upon Sponge, and exclaimed : 



" 111 challenge your horse, Mr. Sponge." 



A burst of applause followed the announcement ; for it was evi- 

 dent that amusement was in store. 



" You'll iv-h-a-w-i ? " replied Sponge, staring, and pretending 

 ance. 



I'll challenge your horse," repeated Pacey with confidence, and 

 in a tone that stopped the lingering murmur of conversation, and 

 fixed the attention of the company on himself. 



" I don't understand you," replied Sponge, pretending astonish- 

 ment. 



" Lor bless us ! why, where have you lived all your life ? " asked 

 Pacey. 



" Oh, partly in one place, and partly in another," was the 

 answer. 



" I should think so," replied Pacey, with a look of compassion; 

 adding, in an under tone, " a good deal with your mother, I should 

 think." 



il If you could get that horse at a moderate figure," whispered 

 Jack to his neighbour, and squinting his eyes inside out as he spoke, 

 " he's well worth having." 



" The beggar won't sell him," muttered Pacey, who was fonder of 

 talking about buying horses than of buying them. 



"Oh } T es, he will,'' replied Jack; " he didn't understand what 

 you meant. Mr. Sponge," said he, addressing himself slowly and 

 distinctly up the table to our hero — " Mr. Sponge, my friend Mr. 

 Pacey here challenges your chestnut." 



Sponge still stared in well-feigned astonishment. 



" It's a custom we have in this country," continued Jack, looking, 

 as he thought, at Sponge, but, in reality, squinting most frightfully at 

 the sideboard. 



" Do you mean he wants to buy him? " asked Sponge. 



" Yes," replied Jack, confidently. 



" No, I donH" whispered Pacey, giving Jack a kick under the 

 table. Pacey had not yet drunk sufficient wine to be rash. 



" Yes, yes," replied Jack, tartly, " you do;" adding, in an under 

 tone, " leave it to me, man, and I'll let you in for a good thing. 



