MR. sponge's SPOUTING TOUR. 391 



CHAPTER LXV. 



THE HUNT. 



"While the foregoing arrangements were in progress, Mr. Watchora 

 had desired Slarkey, the knife-boy, to go into the old hay-loft and 

 take the three-legged fox he would find, and put him down among 

 the laurels by the summer-house, where he would draw up to him all 

 " reg'lar " like. Accordingly, Slarkey went, but the old cripple 

 having mounted the rafters, Slarkey didn't see him, or rather seeing 

 but one fox, he clutched him, with a greater regard to his not biting 

 him than to see how many legs he had ; consequently he bagged an un- 

 commonly fine old dog fox that Wiley Tom had just stolen from Lord 

 Scamperdale's new cover at Eaggotfurz ; and it was not until Slarkey 

 put him down among the bushes, and saw how lively he went, that 

 he found his mistake. However, there was no help for it, and he 

 had just time to pocket the bag when Watchorn's half-drunken cheer, 

 and the reverberating cracks of ponderous whips on either side of 

 the Dean, announced the approach of the pack. 



" He-leu in there!" cried "Watchora to the hounds. " 'Ord, 

 dommee, but its slippy," said he to himself. " Have at him, Plun- 

 derer, good dog ! i" wish I may be Cardinal Wiseman for comin'," 

 added he, seeing how his breath showed on the air. " Ho-o-i-chs ! 

 pash 'im hup ! I'll be dashed if I shan't be down ! " exclaimed he, 

 as his horse slid a long slide. " He-leu, in ! Conqueror, old boy ! " 

 continued he, exclaiming loud enough for Mr. Sponge who was draw- 

 ing near to hear, "find us a fox that '11 give us five and forty 

 minnits ! " the speaker inwardly hoping they might chop their bag- 

 man in cover. " Y-o-o-icks ! rout him out ! " continued he, getting 

 more energetic. " Y-o-o-icks ! wind him ! Y-o-o-icks ! stir us hup 

 a teaser ! " 



" No go, I think," observed George Cheek, ambling up on his 

 leggy weed. 



" No go, ye young infidel," growled Watchora, "who taught you to 

 talk about go's, I wonder ; ought to be at school larnin' to cipher, 

 or ridin' the globes," Mr. Watchora not exactly knowing what 

 the term "use of the globes" meant. "D'ye call that nothin?/" 

 exclaimed he, taking off his cap as he viewed the fox stealing along 

 the gravel walk; adding to himself, as he saw his even action, and 

 full, well-tagged brush, " 'Ord rot him, he's got hold of the wrong 

 'un ! " 



It was, however, no time for thought. In an instant the welkin 



