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Surtees, Robert Smith, 1803-1864

"Mr. Sponge's Sporting Tour"


'That Mr. Sponge,' continued his lordship, 'is a stranger in the country:
have the kindness to take _care_ of him. You know what I mean?'
'Just so,' replied Jack; 'I'll take care of him.'
'Most polite of your lordship, I'm sure,' said Jawleyford, with a low bow,
and laying his hand on his breast. 'I can assure you I shall never forget
the marked attention I have received from your lordship this day.'
'Thank you for nothing,' grunted his lordship to himself.
Bump, bump; trot, trot; jabber, jabber, on they went as before.
They had now got to the cover, Tickler Gorse, and ere the last horsemen had
reached the last angle of the long hill, Frostyface was rolling about on
foot in the luxuriant evergreen; now wholly visible, now all but overhead,
like a man buffeting among the waves of the sea. Save Frosty's cheery voice
encouraging the invisible pack to 'wind him!' and 'rout him out!' an
injunction that the shaking of the gorse showed they willingly obeyed, and
an occasional exclamation from Jawleyford, of 'Beautiful! beautiful!--never
saw better hounds!--can't be a finer pack!' not a sound disturbed the
stillness of the scene.


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