393 MR. sponge's sporting tour. 



geot ! " which, being interpreted, means, " here again, hounds ! — here 

 again." 



" Oh, the concited beggar ! " exclaimed Mr. Watchorn to him- 

 self, as, disappointed of his finish, he sat feeling his nose, mopping 

 his face, and watching the proceedings. " Oh, the concited beggar ! " 

 repeated he; adding, " old 'hogany bouts is absolutely go in' to kest 

 them." 



Cast them, however, he did, proceeding very cautiously in 

 the direction the hounds seemed to lean. They were on a piece 

 of cold scenting ground, across which they could hardly own the 

 scent. 



" Don't hurry 'em ! " cried Mr. Sponge to Miss Glitters, who was 

 acting whipper-in with rather unnecessary vigour. 



As they got under the lee of the hedge, the scent improved a 

 little, and from an occasional feathering stern, a hound or two 

 indulged in a whimper, until at length they fairly broke out in a 

 cry. 



"I'll lose a shoe," said Watchorn to himself, looking first at 

 the formidable leap before him, and then to see if there was any one 

 coming up behind. " I'll lose a shoe," said he. " No notion of 

 lippin' of a navigable river — a downright arm of the sea," added he, 

 getting off. 



" Forward! forward!" screeched Mr. Sponge, capping the 

 hounds on, when away they went, heads up and sterns down, as 

 before. 



" Ay, for-rard ! for-rard ! " mimicked Mr. Watchorn ; adding, 

 " you're for-rard enough, at all events." 



After running about three-quarters of a mile at best pace, Mr. 

 Sponge viewed the fox crossing a large grass field with all the steam 

 up he could raise, a few hundred yards a-head of the pack, who were 

 streaming along most beautifully, not viewing, but gradually gaining 

 upon him. At last they broke from scent to view, and presently 

 rolled him over and over among them. 



" Who-hoop ! " screamed Mr. Sponge, throwing himself off his 

 horse and rushing in amongst them. " Who-hoop ! " repeated 

 he, still louder, holding the fox up in grim death above the baying 

 pack. 



" Who-hoop ! " exclaimed Miss Glitters, reining up in delight 

 alongside the chestnut. " Who-hoop ! " repeated she, diving into 

 her saddle-pocket for her lace-fringed handkerchief. 



" Throw me my whip ! " cried Mr. Sponge, repelling the attacks 

 of the hounds from behind with his heels. Having got it, he threw 

 the fox on the ground, and clearing a circle, he off with his brush in 

 an instant. " Tear him and eat him ! " cried he, as the pack broke 

 in on the carcass. " Tear him and eat him ! " repeated he, as he 



