Mr. Sponge's Sporting Tour

by Robert Smith Surtees

'Who's that with his nasty nob on my fine satin sofa?' asked the lady.

'Bob Spangles,' replied Seedeybuck.

'Nothing of the sort,' rejoined the lady; 'and I'll trouble you to get off.'

'Can't—I've got a bone in my leg,' rejoined the captain.

'I'll soon make you,' replied her ladyship, seizing the squab, and pulling it on to the floor.

As the captain was scrambling up, in came Peter—one of the wageless footmen—with candles, which having distributed equitably about the room, he approached Lady Scattercash, and asked, in an independent sort of way, what room Mr. Soapsuds was to have.

'Soapsuds!—Soapsuds!—that's not his name,' exclaimed her ladyship.

'Sponge, you fool! Soapey Sponge,' exclaimed Cutitfat, who had ferreted out Sponge's nomme de Londres.

'He's not come, has he?' asked Miss Glitters eagerly.