MR. sponge's SPORTING TOUR. 297 



At last they got started, Jog driving, Sponge occupying the low 

 seat, Jog's flail and Sponge's cane whip-stick stuck in the straps of 

 the apron. Jog was very crusty at first, and did little but whip and 

 flog the old horse, and puff and growl about being late, keeping peo- 

 ple waiting, over-driving the horse, and so on. 



" Have a cigar ? " at last asked Sponge, opening the well-filled 

 case, and tendering that olive-branch to his companion. 



"Cigar (wheeze), cigar (puff)?" replied Jog, eyeing the case; 

 " why, no, p'raps not, I think (wheeze), thank'e." 



" Do you never smoke ? " asked Sponge. 



" (Puff — wheeze). Not often," replied Jogglebury, looking about 

 him with an air of indifference. He did not like to say no, because 

 Springwheat smoked, though Mrs. Springey highly disapproved of it. 



" You'll find them very mild," observed Sponge, taking one out 

 for himself, and again tendering the case to his friend. 



" Mild (wheeze), mild (puff), are they ? " said Jog, thinking he 

 would try one. 



Mr. Sponge then struck a light, and getting his own cigar well 

 under way, lit one for his friend, and presented it to him. They 

 then went puflmg, and whipping, and smoking in silence. Jog spoke 

 first. 



" / am going to be (puff) sick" observed he, slowly and solemnly. 



" Hope not," replied Mr. Sponge, with a hearty whiff up into the 

 air. 



" I am going to be (puff) sick," observed Jog, after another pause. 



" Be sick on your own side, then," replied Sponge, with another 

 hearty whiff. 



" By the (puff) powers ! I am (puff) sick ! " exclaimed Joggle- 

 bury, after another pause, and throwing away the cigar. " Oh, dear ! " 

 exclaimed he, " you shouldn't have given me the nasty (puff) thing." 

 ' " My dear fellow, I didn't know it would make you sick," replied 

 Mr. Sponge. 



" Well, but (puff) if they (wheeze) other people sick, in all (puff) 

 probability they'll (wheeze) me. There ! " exclaimed he, pulling up 

 again. 



The delays occasioned by these catastrophes, together with the 

 time lost by " Obin and Ichard," threw our sportsmen out considera- 

 bly. When they reached Chalkerley-gate it wanted ten minutes to 

 eleven, and they had still three jmiles to go. 



" We shall be late," observed Sponge, inwardly denouncing 

 " Obin and Ichard." 



" Shouldn't wonder," replied Jog, adding with a puff into his 

 frill, ' : consequence of making me sick, you see." 



" My dear fellow, if you don't know your own stomach by this 

 time, you did ought to do," replied Mr. Sponge. 



" I (puff) flatter myself I do (wheeze) my own stomach," replied 

 Jogglebury, tartly. 



