'
'Never mind, let's try!' exclaimed Mr. Sponge, giving the rein a jerk, to
get the horse into motion again; adding, 'it's no use sitting here, you
know, like a couple of fools, when the hounds are running.'
'Couple of (puff)!' growled Jog, not liking the appellation, and wishing to
be home with the long holly. 'I don't see anything (wheeze) foolish in the
(puff) business.'
'There they are!' exclaimed Mr. Sponge, who had kept his eye on the spot he
last viewed them, and now saw the horsemen titt-up-ing across a grass field
in the easy way that distance makes very uneasy riding look. 'Cut along!'
exclaimed he, laying into the horse's hind-quarters with his hunting-whip.
'Don't! the horse is (puff) tired,' retorted Jog angrily, holding the
horse, instead of letting him go to Sponge's salute.
'Not a bit on't!' exclaimed Sponge; 'fresh as paint! Spring him a bit,
that's a good fellow!' added he.
Jog didn't fancy being dictated to in this way, and just crawled along at
his own pace, some six miles an hour, his dull phlegmatic face contrasting
with the eager excitement of Mr.
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