Mr. Sponge's Sporting Tour

by Robert Smith Surtees

'Very good,' said Jack, smoking and considering. '"From there,"' continued he, '"he made a bit of a bend, as if inclining for the plantations at Winstead, but, changing his mind, he faced the rising ground, and crossing over nearly the highest part of Shillington Hill, made direct for the little village of Berrington Roothings below."'

'Stop!' exclaimed Sponge, 'I haven't got half that; I've only got to "the plantations at Winstead."' Sponge made play with his pen, and presently held it up in token of being done.

'Well,' pondered Jack, 'there was a check there. Say,' continued he, addressing himself to Sponge, '"Here the hounds came to a check."'

'Here the hounds came to a check,' wrote Sponge. 'Shall we say anything about distance?' asked he.

'P'raps we may as well,' replied Jack. 'We shall have to stretch it though a bit.'

'Let's see,' continued he; 'from the cover to Berrington Roothings over by Shillington Hill and Fleecyhaugh Water Meadows will be—say, two miles and a half or three miles at the most—call it four, well, four miles—say four miles in twelve minutes, twenty miles an hour,—too quick—four miles in fifteen minutes, sixteen miles an hour; no—I think p'raps it'll be safer to lump the distance at the end, and put in a place or two that nobody knows the name of, for the convenience of those who were not out.'

'But those who were out will blab, won't they?' asked Sponge.

'Only to each other,' replied Jack. 'They'll all stand up for the truth of it as against strangers. You need never be afraid of over-eggin' the puddin' for those that were out.'

'Well, then,' observed Sponge, looking at his paper to report progress, 'we've got the hounds to a check. "Here the hounds came to a check,"' read he. 'Ah! now, then,' said Jack, in a tone of disgust, 'we must say summut handsome of Bragg; and of all conceited animals under the sun, he certainly is the most conceited. I never saw such a man! How that unfortunate, infatuated master of his keeps him, I can't for the life of me imagine. Master! faith, Bragg's the master,' continued Jack, who now began to foam at the mouth. 'He laughs at old Puff to his face; yet it's wonderful the influence Bragg has over him. I really believe he has talked Puff into believing that there's not such another huntsman under the sun, and really he's as great a muff as ever walked. He can just dress the character, and that's all.' So saying Jack wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his red coat preparatory to displaying Mr. Bragg upon paper.

'Well, now we are at fault,' said Jack, motioning Sponge to resume; 'we are at fault; now say, "but Mr. Bragg, who had ridden gallantly on his favourite bay, as fine an animal as ever went, though somewhat past mark of mouth—" He is a good horse, at least was,' observed Jack, adding, 'I sold Puff him, he was one of old Sugarlip's,' meaning Lord Scamperdale's.