on the
hounds, but he would pull up at a check; but this rusty-booted 'bomination
seems to think the hounds are kept for him to ride over. He must be got rid
of somehow,' repeated his lordship; 'for we shall have no peace while he's
here.'

'If he's after either of the Jawley girls, he'll be bad to shake off,'
observed Jack.

'That's just the point,' replied his lordship, quaffing off his gin with
the air of a man most thoroughly thirsty; 'that's just the point,' repeated
he, setting down his tumbler. 'I think if he is, I could cook his goose for
him.'

'How so?' asked Jack, drinking off his glass.

'Why, I'll tell you,' replied his lordship, replenishing his tumbler, and
passing the old gilt-labelled blue bottle over to Jack; 'you see, Frosty's
a cunning old file, picks up all the news and gossip of the country when
he's out at exercise with the hounds, or in going to cover--knows
everything!--who licks his wife, and whose wife licks him--who's after such
a girl, and so on--and he's found out somehow that this Mr.
What's-his-name isn't the man of metal he's passing for.'

'Indeed,' exclaimed Jack, raising his eyebrows, and squinting his eyes
inside out; Jack's opinion of a man being entirely regulated by his purse.

'It's a fact,' said his lordship, with a knowing shake of his head. 'As we
were toddling home with the hounds, I said to Frosty, "I hope that Mr.
Something's comfortable in his bath"--meaning Gobblecow Bog, which he rode
into. "Why," said Frosty, "it's no great odds what comes of such rubbage as
that." Now, Frosty, you know, in a general way, is a most polite,
fair-spoken man, specially before Christmas, when he begins to look for the
tips; and as we are not much troubled with strangers, thanks to your
sensible way of handling them, I thought Frosty would have made the most of
this natural son of Dives, and been as polite to him as possible. However,
he was evidently no favourite of Frosty's. So I just asked--not that one
likes to be familiar with servants, you know, but still this brown-booted
beggar is enough to excite one's curiosity and make any one go out of one's
way a little--so I just asked Frosty what he knew about him. "All over the
left," said Frosty, jerking his thumb back over his shoulder, and looking
as knowing as a goose with one eye; "all over the left," repeated he.
"What's over the left?" said I. "Why, this Mr. Sponge," said he. "How so?"
asked I. "Why," said Frosty, "he's come gam