Mr. Sponge's Sporting Tour Part 68

'But I can't put my horse in here,' observed Mr. Sponge, looking at the unfortunate brutes.

'No, sir, no,' replied Mr. Peastraw; 'put yours in a stable, sir; put yours in a stable'; adding, 'these young gents don't care much about their horses.'

'Does anybody know the chap's name?' asked Sir Harry, reeling back into the room.

'Know his name!' exclaimed Bob Spangles; 'why, don't you?'

'No,' replied Sir Harry, with a vacant stare.

'Why, you went up and shook hands with him, as if you were as thick as thieves,' replied Bob.

'Did I?' hiccuped Sir Harry. 'Well, I thought I knew him. At least, I thought it was somebody I had (hiccup)ed before; and at one's own (hiccup) house, you know, one's 'bliged to be (hiccup) feller well (hiccup) with everybody that comes. But surely, some of you know his (hiccup) name,'

added he, looking about at the company.

'I think I know his (hiccup) face,' replied Bob Spangles, imitating his brother-in-law.

'I've seen him somewhere,' observed the other Spangles, through a mouthful of beef.

'So have I,' exclaimed some one else, 'but where I can't say.'

'Most likely at church,' observed brother Bob Spangles.

'Well, I don't think he'll corrupt me,' observed Captain Quod, speaking between the fumes of a cigar.

'He'll not borrow much of me,' observed Captain Seedeybuck, producing a much tarnished green purse, and exhibiting two fourpenny-pieces at one end, and three-halfpence at the other.

'Oh, I dare say he's a good feller,' observed Sir Harry; 'I make no doubt he's one of the right sort.'

Just then in came the man himself, hat and whip in hand, waving the brush proudly over his head.

'Ah, that's (hiccup) right, old feller,' exclaimed Sir Harry, again advancing with extended hand to meet him, adding, 'you'd (hiccup) all you wanted for your (hiccup) horse: mutton broth--I mean barley-water, foot-bath, everything right. Let me introduce my (hiccup) brother-in-law, Bob Spangles, my (hiccup) friend Captain Ladofwax, Captain Quod, Captain (hiccup) Bouncey, Captain (hiccup) Seedeybuck, and my (hiccup) brother-in-law, Mr. Spangles, as lushy a cove as ever was seen; ar'n't you, old boy?' added he, grasping the latter by the arm.

All these gentlemen severally bobbed their heads as Sir Harry called them over, and then resumed their respective occupations--eating, drinking, and smoking.

These were some of the debauched gentlemen Mr. Sponge had seen before Nonsuch House in the morning. They were all captains, or captains by courtesy. Ladofwax had been a painter and glazier in the Borough, where he made the acquaintance of Captain Quod, while that gentleman was an inmate of Captain Hudson's strong house. Captain Bouncey was the too well-known betting-office keeper; and Seedeybuck was such a constant customer of Mr.

Commissioner Fonblanque's court, that that worthy legal luminary, on discharging him for the fifth time, said to him, with a very significant shake of the head, 'You'd better not come here again, sir.' Seedeybuck, being of the same opinion, had since fastened himself on to Sir Harry Scattercash, who found him in meat, drink, washing, and lodging. They were all attired in red coats, of one sort or another, though some of which were of a very antediluvian, and others of a very dressing-gown cut. Bouncey's had a hare on the b.u.t.ton, and Seedeybuck's coat sat on him like a sack.

Still a scarlet coat is a scarlet coat in the eyes of some, and the coats were not a bit more unsportsmanlike than the men. To Mr. Sponge's astonishment, instead of breaking out in inquiries as to where they had run to, the time, the distance, who was up, who was down, and so on, they began recommending the victuals and drink; and this, notwithstanding Mr. Sponge kept flourishing the brush.

'We've had a rare run,' said he, addressing himself to Sir Harry.

'Have you (hiccup)? I'm glad of it (hiccup). Pray have something to (hiccup) after it; you _must_ be (hiccup).'

'Let me help you to some of this cold round of beef?' exclaimed Captain Bouncey, brandishing the great broad-bladed carving knife.

'Have a slice of 'ot 'am,' suggested Captain Quod.

'The finest run I ever rode!' observed Mr. Sponge, still endeavouring to get a hearing.

'Dare say it would,' replied Sir Harry;' those (hiccup) hounds of mine are uncommon (hiccup).' He didn't know what they were, and the hiccup came very opportunely.

'The pace was terrific!' exclaimed Sponge.

'Dare say it would,' replied Sir Harry; 'and that's what makes me (hiccup) you're so (hiccup). Pea, here, has some rare old October--(hiccup) bushels to the (hiccup) hogshead.' 'It's capital!' exclaimed Captain Seedeybuck, frothing himself a tumblerful out of the tall brown jug.

'So is this,' rejoined Captain Quod, pouring himself out a liberal allowance of gin.

'That horse of mine carried me MAG_nificently_!' observed Mr. Sponge, with a commanding emphasis on the MAG.

'Dare say he would,' replied Sir Harry; 'he looked like a (hiccup)er--a white 'un, wasn't he?'

'No; a _brown_,' replied Mr. Sponge, disgusted at the mistake.

'Ah, well; but there _was_ somebody on a white,' replied Sir Harry.

'Oh--ah--yes--it was old Bugles on my lady's horse. By the (hiccup) way (hiccup), gentlemen, what's got Mr. Orlando (hiccup) Bugles?' asked Sir Harry, staring wildly round.

'Oh! old Bugles! old Pad-the-Hoof! old Mr. Funker! the horse frightened him so, that he went home crying,' replied Bob Spangles.

'Hope he didn't lose him?' asked Sir Harry.

'Oh no,' replied Bob; 'he gave a lad a shilling to lead him, and they trudged away very quietly together.'

'The old (hiccup)!' exclaimed Sir Harry; 'he told me he was a member of the Surrey something.'

'The Sorry Union,' replied Captain Quod. 'He _was_ out with them once, and fell off on his head and knocked his hat-crown out.'

'Well, but I was telling you about the run,' interposed Mr. Sponge, again endeavouring to enlist an audience. 'I was telling you about the run,'

repeated he.

'Don't trouble yourself, my dear sir,' interrupted Captain Bouncey; 'we know all about it--found--checked--killed, killed--found--checked.'

'You _can't_ know all about it!' snapped Mr. Sponge; 'for there wasn't a soul there but myself, much to my horror, for I had a reg'lar row with old Scamperdale, and never a soul to back me.'

'What! you fell in with that mealy-mouthed gentleman, who can't (hiccup) swear because he's a (hiccup) lord, did you?' asked Sir Harry, his attention being now drawn to our friend.

'_I did_,' replied Mr. Sponge; 'and a pretty pa.s.sage of politeness we had of it.'

'Indeed! (hiccup),' exclaimed Sir Harry. 'Tell us (hiccup) all about it.'

'Well,' said Mr. Sponge, laying the brush lengthways before him on the table, as if he was going to demonstrate upon it. 'Well, you see we had a devil of a run--I don't know how many miles, as hard as ever we could lay legs to the ground; one by one the field all dropped astern, except the huntsman and myself. At last he gave in, or rather his horse did, and I was left alone in my glory. Well, we went over the downs at a pace that nothing but blood could live with, and, though my horse has never been beat, and is as thorough-bred as Eclipse--a horse that I have refused three hundred guineas for over and over again, I really did begin to think I might get to the bottom of him, when all of a sudden we came to a dean.'

'Ah! c.o.c.kthropple that would be,' observed Sir Harry.

'Dare say,' replied Mr. Sponge; 'c.o.c.k-anything-you-like-to-call-it for me.

Well, when we got there, I thought we should have some breathing time, for the fox would be sure to hug it. But no; no sooner had I got there than a countryman hallooed him away on the far side. I got to the halloo as quick as I could, and just as I was blowing the horn,' producing Watchorn's from his pocket as he spoke; 'for I must tell you,' said he, 'that when I saw the huntsman's horse was beat, I took this from him--a horn to a foot huntsman being of no more use, you know, than a side-pocket to a cow, or a frilled shirt to a pig. Well, as I was tootleing the horn for hard life, who should turn out of the wood but old mealy-mouth himself, as you call him, and a pretty volley of abuse he let drive at me.'

'No doubt,' hiccuped Sir Harry; 'but what was _he_ doing there?'

'Oh! I should tell you,' replied Mr. Sponge, 'his hounds had run a fox into it, and were on him full cry when I got there.'