Mr. Sponge's Sporting Tour Part 85

'My Uncle Jollyboy wouldn't be stopped by such a frost as this,' observed Cheek.

"Deed, sir, 'deed,' replied Watchorn, 'your Uncle Jellyboy's a very fine feller, I dare say--very fine feller; no such conjurers in these parts as he is. What man dare, I dare; he who dares more, is no man,' added Watchorn, giving his fat thigh a hearty slap.

'Well done, old Talliho!' exclaimed Miss Glitters. 'We'll have you on the stage next.'

'What will you wet your whistle with after your fine speech?' asked Lady Scattercash.

'Take a tumbler of chumpine, if there is any,' replied Watchorn, looking about for a long-necked bottle.

'Fear you'll come on badly,' observed Captain Seedeybuck, holding up an empty one, 'for Bouncey and I have just finished the last'; the captain chucking the bottle sideways on to the floor, and rolling it towards its companion in the corner.

'Have a fresh bottle,' suggested Lady Scattercash, drawing the bell-string at her chair.

'Champagne,' said her ladyship, as the footman answered the summons.

'Two on 'em!' exclaimed Captain Bouncey.

'Three!' shouted Sir Harry.

'We'll have a regular set-to,' observed Miss Howard, who was fond of champagne.

'New Year's Day,' replied Bouncey, 'and ought to be properly observed.'

Presently, Fiz--z,--pop,--bang! Fiz--z,--pop,--bang! went the bottles; and, as the hissing beverage foamed over the bottle-necks, gla.s.ses were sought and held out to catch the creaming contents.

'Here's a (hiccup) happy new year to us all!' exclaimed Sir Harry, drinking off his wine. 'H-o-o-ray!' exclaimed the company in irregular order, as they drank off theirs.

'We'll drink Mr. Watchorn and the Nonsuch hounds!' exclaimed Bob Spangles, as Watchorn, having drained off his tumbler, replaced it on the sideboard.

'With all the honours!' exclaimed Captain Cut.i.tfat, filling his gla.s.s and rising to give the time; 'Watchorn, your good health!' 'Watchorn, your good health!' sounded from all parts, which Watchorn kept acknowledging, and looking about for the means to return the compliment, his friends being more intent upon drinking his health than upon supplying him with wine. At last he caught the third of a bottle of 'chumpine,' and, emptying it into his tumbler, held it up while he thus addressed them:

'Gen'lemen all!' said he, 'I thank you most 'ticklarly for this mark of your 'tention (applause); it's most gratifying to my feelins to be thus remembered (applause). I could say a great deal more, but the liquor won't wait.' So saying, he drained off his gla.s.s while the wine effervesced.

'Well, and what d'ye (hiccup) of the weather now?' asked Sir Harry, as his huntsman again deposited his tumbler on the sideboard.

'Pon my soul! Sir 'Arry,' replied Watchorn, quite briskly, 'I really think we _might_ 'unt--we might try, at all events. The day seems changed, some'ow,' added he, staring vacantly out of the window on the bright sunny landscape, with the leafless trees dancing before his eyes.

'_I_ think so,' said Sir Harry. 'What do you think, Mr. Sponge?' added he, appealing to our hero.

'Half an hour may make a great difference,' observed Mr. Sponge. 'The sun will then be at its best.'

'We'll try, at all events,' observed Sir Harry.

'That's right,' exclaimed George Cheek, waving a scarlet bandana over his head.

'I shall expect you to ride up to the 'ounds, young gent,' observed Watchorn, darting an angry look at the speaker.

'Won't I, old boy!' exclaimed George; 'ride over you, if you don't get out of the way.'

"Deed,' sneered the huntsman, whisking about to leave the room; muttering, as he pa.s.sed behind the large Indian screen at the door, something about 'jawing jackanapes, well called Cheek.'

"Unt in 'alf an hour!' exclaimed Watchorn, from the steps of the front door; an announcement that was received by the little Raws, and little Spooneys, and little Baskets, and little Bulgeys, and little Bricks, and little others, with rapturous applause.

All was now commotion and hurry-scurry inside and out; gla.s.ses were drained, lips wiped, and napkins thrown hastily away, while ladies and gentlemen began grouping and talking about hats and habits, and what they should ride.

'You go with me, Orlando,' said Lady Scattercash to our friend Bugles, recollecting the quant.i.ty of diachylon plaster it had taken to repair the damage of his former equestrian performance. 'You go with me, Orlando,'

said she, 'in the phaeton; and I'll lend Lucy,' nodding towards Miss Glitters, 'my habit and horse.'

'Who can lend me a coat?' asked Captain Seedeybuck, examining the skirts of a much frayed invisible-green surtout.

'A coat!' replied Captain Quod; 'I can lend you a Joinville, if that will do as well,' the captain feeling his own extensive one as he spoke.

'Hardly,' said Seedeybuck, turning about to ask Sir Harry.

'What!--you are going to give Watchorn a tussle, are you?' asked Captain Cut.i.tfat of George Cheek, as the latter began adjusting the fox-toothed riband about his hat.

'I believe you,' replied George, with a knowing jerk of his head; adding, 'it won't take much to beat him.'

'What! he's a slow 'un, is he?' asked Cut.i.tfat, in an undertone.

'Slowest coach I ever saw,' growled George.

'Won't ride, won't he?' asked the Captain.

'Not if he can help it,' replied George, adding, 'but he's such a shocking huntsman--never saw such a huntsman in all my life.'

George's experience lay between his Uncle Jellyboy, who rode eighteen stone and a half, Tom Scramble, the pedestrian huntsman of the Slowfoot hounds, near Mr. Latherington's, and Mr. Watchorn. But critics, especially hunting ones, are all ready made, as Lord Byron said.

'Well, we'd better disperse and get ready,' observed Bob Spangles, making for the door; whereupon the tide of population flowed that way, and the room was presently cleared.

George Cheek and the juveniles then returned to their friends in the front; and George got up pony races among the Johnny Raws, the Baskets, the Bulgeys, and the Spooneys, thrice round the carriage ring and a distance, to the detriment of the gravel and the discomfiture of the flower-bed in the centre.

CHAPTER LXIV

THE KENNEL AND THE STUD

We will now accompany Mr. Watchorn to the stable, whither his resolute legs carried him as soon as the champagne wrought the wonderful change in his opinion of the weather, though, as he every now and then crossed a spangled piece of ground upon which the sun had not struck, or stopped to crack a piece of ice with his toe, he shook his heated head and doubted whether _he_ was Cardinal Wiseman for making the attempt. Nothing but the fact of his considering it perfectly immaterial whether he was with his hounds or not encouraged him in the undertaking. 'Dash them!' said he, 'they must just take care of themselves.' With which laudable resolution, and an inward anathema at George Cheek, he left off trying the ground and tapping the ice.

Watchorn's hurried, excited appearance produced little satisfaction among the grooms and helpers at the stables, who were congratulating themselves on the opportune arrival of the frost, and arranging how they should spend their New Year's Day.

'Look sharp, lads! look sharp!' exclaimed he, clapping his hands as he ran up the yard. 'Look sharp, lads! look sharp!' repeated he, as the astonished helpers showed their bare arms and dirty shirts at the partially opened doors, responsive to the sound. 'Send Snaffle here, send Brown here, send Green here, send Snooks here,' exclaimed he, with the air of a man in authority.

Now Snaffle was the stud-groom, a personage altogether independent of the huntsman, and, in the ordinary course of nature, Snaffle had just as much right to send for Watchorn as Watchorn had to send for him; but Watchorn being, as we said before, some way connected with Lady Scattercash, he just did as he liked among the whole of them, and they were too good judges to rebel.