tour. 395 



" Oh, dear ! — oh, dear ! " exclaimed he, as his horse nearly came 

 on his head, " but this is the most punishin' affair I ever was in at. 

 Puseyism's nothin' to it." And thereupon he indulged in no end of 

 anathemas at Slarkey for bringing the wrong fox. 



" About time to take soundings, and cast anchor, isn't it ? " gasped 

 Captain Bouncey, toiling up red hot on his pulling horse in a state 

 of utter exhaustion, as Watchorn stood craneing and looking at a 

 rasper through which Mr. Sponge and Miss Glitters had passed, with- 

 out disturbing a twig. 



" C — a — s — t anchor ! " exclaimed Watchorn, in a tone of de- 

 rision — " not this half hour yet, I hope ! — not this forty minnits 

 yet, I hope ! — not this hour and twenty minnits yet, I hope ! " con- 

 tinued he, putting his horse irresolutely at the fence. The horse 

 blundered through it, barking Watchorn's nose with a branch. 



" ''Orel rot it, cut off my nose ! " exclaimed he, muffling it up in 

 his hand. " Cut off my nose clean by my face, I do believe," con- 

 tinued he, venturing to look into his hand for it. " Well," said he, 

 eyeing the slight stain of blood on his glove, " this will be a lesson 

 to me as long as I live. If ever I 'unt again in a frost, may I 



be . Thank goodness ! they've checked at last ! " exclaimed he, 



as the music suddenly ceased, and Mr. Sponge and Miss Glitters sat 

 motionless together on their panting, smoking steeds. 



Watchorn then stuck spurs to his horse, and being now on a flat, 

 rushy pasture, with a bridle-gate into the field where the hounds were 

 casting, he hustled across, preparing his horn for a blow as soon as 

 he got there. 



* " Twang — twang — twang — twang" he went, riding up the hedge- 

 row in the contrary direction to what the hounds leant. " Twang — 

 twang — twang" he continued, inwardly congratulating himself that 

 the fox would never face the troop of urchins he saw coming down 

 with their guns. 



" Hang him ! — he's never that way ! " observed Mr. Sponge, sotto 

 voce, to Miss Glitters. " He's never that way," repeated he, seeing 

 how Frantic flung to the right. 



" Twang — twang — twang" went the horn, but the hounds re- 

 garded it not. 



" Do, Mr. Sponge, put the hounds to me!" roared Mr. Watchorn, 

 dreading lest they might hit off the scent. 



Mr. Sponge answered the appeal by turning his horse the way 

 the hounds were feathering, and giving them a slight cheer. 



" ' Ord rot it ! " roared Watchorn, " do let 'em alone? That's 

 a fresh fox! ours is over the 'ill," pointing towards Bonnyfield 

 Hill. 



" Hoop ! " hallooed Mr. Sponge, taking off his hat as Frantic hit 

 off the scent to the right, and Galloper and Melody, and all the rest 

 scored to cry. 



