412 MR. sponge's sporting tour. 



dandies with their silver-mounted whips; and Shaggyford roughs, 

 in their baggy, poacher-like- coats, and formidable clubs ; carriages 

 and four, and carriages and pairs; and gigs, and dog-carts, and 

 Whitechapels, and Newport Pagnels, and long carts, and short carts, 

 and donkey-carts, converged from all quarters upon the point of 

 attraction at Broom Hill. 



If farmer Scourgefield had made a mob, he could not have got 

 one that would be more likely to do damage to his farm than this 

 steeple-chase one. Nor was the assemblage confined to the people of 

 the country, for the G-randdiddle Junction, by its connexion with the 

 great network of railways, enabled all patrons of this truly national 

 sport to sweep down upon the spot like flocks of wolves ; and train 

 after train disgorged a generous mixture of sharps and flats, com- 

 mingling with coatless, baggy-breeched vagabonds, the emissaries 

 most likely of the Peeping Toms and Infallible Joes, if not the 

 worthies themselves. 



" Dear, but it's a noble sight ! " exclaimed Yiney to Watchorn, 

 as they sat on their horses, below a rickety green-baize covered 

 scaffold, labelled, "Grand Stand; admission, Two-and-sixpence," 

 raised against Scourgefield's stack-yard wall, eyeing the population 

 pouring in from all parts. " Dear, but it's a noble sight ! " said he, 

 shading the sun from his eyes, and endeavouring to identify the 

 different vehicles in the distance. " Yoncler's the ' bus comin' again," 

 said he, looking towards the station, " loaded like a market-gardener's 

 turnip-waggon. That'll pay" added he, with a knowing leer at the 

 landlord of the Hen Angel, Newington Butts. " And who have we 

 here, with the four horses and sky-blue flunkies ? Jawleyford, as I 

 live ! " added he, answering himself; adding, " The beggar had better 

 pay me what he owes." 



How great Mr. Yiney was ! Some people, who have never had 

 anything to do with horses, think it incumbent upon them, when they 

 have, to sport top-boots, and accordingly, for the first time in his life, 

 Yiney appears in a pair of remarkably hard, tight, country-made 

 boots, above which are a pair of baggy, white cords, with the dirty 

 finger-marks of the tailor still upon them. He sports a single- 

 breasted green cutaway coat, with basket buttons, a black satin roll- 

 collared waistcoat, and a new white silk hat, that shines in the bright 

 sun like a fish-kettle. His blue-striped kerchief is secured by a 

 butterfly brooch. Who ever saw an innkeeper that could resist a 

 brooch ? 



He is riding a miserable rat of a badly-clipped, mouse-coloured 

 pony, that looks like a velocipede under him. 



His companion, Mr. Watchorn, is very great, and hardly conde- 

 scends to know the country people who claim his acquaintance as a 

 huntsman. He is a Hotel Keeper — master of the Hen Angel, New- 

 ington Butta. Enoch Wriggle stands beside them, dressed in the 



