ich Sponge didn't understand.

'I'll be down upon you, as the extinguisher said to the rushlight,'
observed Mr. Sponge.

'Do,' said Mr. Puffington; 'come before the frost. Where are you staying
now?'

'I'm at Jawleyford's,' replied our friend.

'Indeed!--Jawleyford's, are you?' repeated Mr. Puffington. 'Good fellow,
Jawleyford--gentleman, Jawleyford. How long do you stay?'

'Why, I haven't made up my mind,' replied Sponge. 'Have no thoughts of
budging at present.'

'Ah, well--good quarters,' said Mr. Puffington, who now smelt a rat; 'good
quarters--nice girls--fine fortune--fine place, Jawleyford Court. Well,
book me for the next visit,' added he. 'I will,' said Sponge, 'and no
mistake. What do they call your shop?'

'Hanby House,' replied Mr. Puffington; 'Hanby House--anybody can tell you
where Hanby House is.'

'I'll not forget,' said Mr. Sponge, booking it in his mind, and eyeing his
victim.

'I'll show you a fine pack of hounds,' said Mr. Puffington; 'far finer
animals than those of old Scamperdale's--steady, true hunting hounds, that
won't go a yard without a scent--none of your jealous, flashy, frantic
devils, that will tear over half a township without one, and are always
looking out for "halloas" and assistance--'

Mr. Puffington was interrupted in the comparison he was about to draw
between his lordship's hounds and his, by arriving at the Bolsover
brick-fields, and seeing Jack and Blossomnose, horse in hand, running to
and fro, while sundry countrymen blobbed about in the clay-hole they had so
recently occupied. Tom Washball, Mr. Wake, Mr. Fyle, Mr. Fossick, and
several dark-coated horsemen and boys were congregated around. Jack had
lost his spectacles, and Blossomnose his whip, and the countrymen were
diving for them.

'Not hurt, I hope?' said Mr. Puffington, in the most dandified tone of
indifference, as he rode up to where Jack and Blossomnose were churning the
water in their boots, stamping up and down, trying to get themselves warm.

'Hurt be hanged!' replied Jack, who had a frightful squint, that turned his
eyes inside out when he was in a passion: 'hurt be hanged!' said he; 'might
have been drownded, for anything you'd have cared.'

'I should have been sorry for that,' replied Mr. Puffington, adding, 'the
Flat Hat Hunt could ill afford to lose so useful and ornamental a member.'

'I don't know what the Flat Hat Hunt can afford to lose,' spluttered Jack,
who hadn't got all the clay out o