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'Say next week,' continued he; 'or suppose you meet at the
Court?'
'Ha--he--hum. Meet at the Court,' mumbled his lordship--'meet at the
Court--ha--he--ha--hum--no;--got no foxes.'
'Plenty of foxes, I assure you, my lord!' exclaimed Jawleyford. 'Plenty of
foxes!' repeated he.
'We never find them, then, somehow,' observed his lordship, drily; 'at
least, none but those three-legged beggars in the laurels at the back of
the stables.'
'Ah! that will be the fault of the hounds,' replied Jawleyford; 'they don't
take sufficient time to draw--run through the covers too quickly.'
'Fault of the hounds be hanged!' exclaimed Jack, who was the champion of
the pack generally. 'There's not a more patient, painstaking pack in the
world than his lordship's.'
'Ah--well--ah--never mind that,' replied his lordship, 'Jaw and you can
settle that point over your wine to-morrow; meanwhile, if your friend Mr.
What's-his-name here, 'll get his horse,' continued his lordship,
addressing himself to Jawleyford, but looking at Sponge, who was still on
the piebald, 'we'll throw off.


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