'Thank 'eavens there's relief at last!' exclaimed he, as on rising
Gimmerhog Hill he saw Farmer Saintfoin's southdowns wheeling and
clustering, indicative of the fox having passed; 'thank 'eavens, there's
relief at last!' repeated he, reining up his horse to see the hounds charge
them.
Mr. Sponge and Miss Glitters were now in the bottom below, fighting their
way across a broad mill-course with a very stiff fence on the taking-off
side.
'Hold up!' roared Mr. Sponge, as, having bored a hole through the fence, he
found himself on the margin of the water-race. The horse did hold up, and
landed him--not without a scramble--on the far side. 'Run him at it, Lucy!'
exclaimed Mr. Sponge, turning his horse half round to his fair companion.
'Run him at it, Lucy!' repeated he; and Lucy fortunately hitting the gap,
skimmed o'er the water like a swallow on a summer's eve.
'Well done! you're a trump!' exclaimed Mr. Sponge, standing in his
stirrups, and holding on by the mane as his horse rose the opposing hill.
He just got up in time to save the muttons; another second and the hounds
would have been into them.
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