mr. sponge's sporting tour. 357 



" Oh, I think he's rather good-looking ; I vote we have him," 

 replied her ladyship. 



That was rather a damper for Sir Harry ; but upon reflection, he 

 thought he could not be worse off with Mr. Sponge and Mr. Bugles 

 than he was with Mr. Bugles alone ; so, having finished a poor ap- 

 petiteless breakfast, he repaired to what he called his " study," and 

 with a feeble, shaky hand, scrawled an invitation to Mr. Sponge to 

 come over to Nonsuch House, and take his chance of a run with his 

 hounds. He then sealed and posted the letter without further to-do. 



CHAPTER LVIII. 



FACEY ROMFORD. 



Four days had now elapsed since Mr. Sponge penned his overture 

 to Sir Harry, and each succeeding day satisfied him more of the 

 utter impossibility of holding on much longer in his then billet at 

 Pudclingpote Bower. Not only was Jog coarse and incessant in 

 his hints to him to be off, but Jawleyford-like he had lowered the 

 standard of entertainment so greatly, that if it hadn't been that Mr. 

 Sponge had his servant and horses kept also, he might as well have 

 been living at his own expense. The company lights were all extin- 

 guished; great, strong-smelling, cauliflower-headed moulds, that were 

 always wanting snuffing, usurped the place of Belmont wax ; napkins 

 were withdrawn ; second-hand table-cloths introduced ; marsala did 

 duty for sherry ; and the stick-jaw pudding assumed a consistency 

 that was almost incompatible with articulation. 



In the course of this time Sponge wrote to Puffington, saying, 

 if he was better he would return and finish his visit ; but the wary 

 Puff sent a messenger off express with a note, lamenting that he 

 was ordered to Handley Cross for his health, but " pop'lar man" 

 like, hoping that the pleasure of Sponge's company was only deferred 

 for another season. Jawleyford even SpoDge thought hopeless; 

 and, altogether, he was very much perplexed. He had made a little 

 money, certainly, with his horses ; but a permanent investment of his 

 elegant person,* such as he had long been on the look out for, seemed 

 as far off as ever. On the afternoon of the fifth day, as he was taking 

 a solita^ stroll about the country, having about made up his mind to 

 be off to town, just as he was crossing Jog's buttercup meadow on his 

 way to the stable, a rapid hang ! hang ! caused him to start, and, 

 looking over the hedge, he saw a brawny-looking sportsman in brown, 



