MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 301 



please Mr. Sponge. Jog might, however, have been easy on that 

 score, for Leather had just buckled the curb-rein of the horse's bri- 

 dle round a tree in the plantations where they found, and the animal 

 being used to this sort of work, had fallen-to quite contentedly upon 

 the grass within reach. 



Bilkington Pike now appeared in view, and Jog drew in as he 

 spied it. He knew the damage : sixpence for carriages, and he 

 doubted that Sponge would pay it. 



" It's no use going any (wheeze) further," observed he, drawing 

 up into a walk, as he eyed the red-brick gable end of the toll-house, 

 and the formidable white gate across the road. 



Tom Coppers had heard the hounds, and knowing the hurry sports- 

 men are often in, had taken the precaution to lock the gate. 



" Just a leetle further ! " exclaimed Mr. Sponge, soothingly, whose 

 anxiety in looking after the hounds had prevented his seeing this 

 formidable impediment. " If you would just drive up to that farm- 

 house on the hill," pointing to one about half a mile off, " I 

 think we should be able to decide whether it's worth going on or 

 not." 



" Well (puff), well (wheeze), well (gasp)," pondered Joggle- 

 bury, still staring at the gate, " if you (puff) think it's worth 

 (wheeze) while going through the (gasp) gate," nodding towards it as 

 he spoke. 



" Oh, never mind the gate," replied Mr. Sponge, with an osten- 

 tatious dive into his breeches pocket, as if he was going to pay it. 



He kept his hand in his pocket till he came close up to the gate, 

 when suddenly drawing it out, he said — 



" Oh, hang it ! I've left my purse at home ! Never mind, drive 

 on," said he to his host ; exclaiming to the man, " it's Mr. Crowdey's 

 carriage — Mr. Jogglebury Crowdey's carriage ! Mr. Crowdey, the 

 chairman of the Stir-it-stiff Poor-Law Union ! " 



" Sixpence ! " shouted the man, following the phaeton with out- 

 stretched hand. 



" Ord, hang it (puff) ! I could have done that (wheeze)," growled 

 Jogglebury, pulling up. 



" You harn't got no ticket," said Coppers, coming up, " and ain't 

 a-goin' to not never no ineetin' o' trustees, are you ? " asked he, seeing 

 the importance of the person with whom he had to deal ; — a trustee 

 of that and other roads, and one who always availed himself of his 

 privilege of going to the meetings toll-free. 



"No," replied Jog, pompously handing Sponge the whip and 

 reins. 



He then rose deliberately from his seat, and slowly unbuttoned 

 each particular button of the brown great-coat he had over the tight 

 black hunting one. He then unbuttoned the black, and next the 

 right-hand pocket of the wfiite moleskins, in which he carried his 



