mr. sponge's SPORTING TOUR. 345 



CHAPTER LVI. 



NONSUCH HOUSE AGAIN. 



Poor Jog again varied his hints the next morning. After 

 sundry prefatory " Murry Anns ! " and " Bar-tho-lo-mews / " he at 

 length got the latter to answer, when, raising his voice so as to fill 

 the whole house, he desired him to go to the stable, and let Mr. 

 Sponge's man know his master would be (wheezing) away. 



" You're wrong there, old buck," growled Leather, as he heard 

 the foregoing ; " he's half way to Sir 'Arry's by this time." 



And, sure enough, Mr. Sponge was, as none knew better than 

 Leather, who had got him his horse, the hack being indisposed — that 

 is to say, having been out all night with Mr. Leather on a drinking 

 excursion, Leather having just got home in time to receive the pur- 

 ple-coated, bare-footed runner of Nonsuch House, who dropped in, 

 en passant, to see if there was anything to stow away in his roomy 

 trouser-pockets, and leave word that Sir Harry was going to hunt, 

 and would meet before the house. 



Leather, though somewhat muzzy, was sufficiently sober to be 

 able to deliver this message, and acquaint Mr. Sponge with the im- 

 possibility of his " ridin' the 'ack." Indeed, he truly said, that he 

 had u been hup with him all night, and at one time thought it was 

 all hover with him," the all-overishness consisting of Mr. Leather 

 being nearly all over the hack's head, in consequence of the animal 

 shying at another drunken man lying across the road. 



jJlr. Sponge listened to the recital with the indifference of a man 

 who rides hack horses, and coolly observed that Leather must take 

 on the chestnut, and he would ride the brown to cover. 



" Couldn't, sir, couldnH" replied Leather, with a shake of the 

 head, and a twinkle of his roguish, watery grey eyes. 



" Why not ? " asked Mr. Sponge, who never saw any difficulty. 



" Oh, sur," replied Leather, in a tone of despondency, " it would 

 be quite unpossible. Consider wot a day the last one was ; why, he 

 didn't get to rest till three the next mornin'." 



" It'll only be walking exercise," observed Mr. Sponge; "do him 

 good." 



" Better valk the chestnut," replied Mr. Leather ; " Multum-in- 

 Parvo hasn't 'ad a good day this I don't know wen, and will be all 

 the better of a bucketin'." 



" But I hate crawling to cover on my horse," replied Mr. Sponge, 

 who liked cantering along with a flourish. 

 15* 



