he jumping-powder!' at length exclaimed Sponge, looking round for
the bottle. 'What shall it be, cherry or neat?' continued he, pointing to
the two. 'Cherry for me,' replied Jack, squinting and eating away without
looking up.

'I say _neat_,' rejoined Sponge, helping himself out of the French bottle.

'You'll be hard to hold after that,' observed Jack, as he eyed Sponge
tossing it off.

'I hope my horse won't,' replied Sponge, remembering he was going to ride
the resolute chestnut.

[Illustration]

'You'll show us the way, I dare say,' observed Jack.

'Shouldn't wonder,' replied Sponge, helping himself to a second glass.

'What! at it again!' exclaimed Jack, adding, 'Take care you don't ride over
my lord.'

'I'll take care of the old file,' said Sponge; 'it wouldn't do to kill the
goose that lays the golden what-do-ye-call-'ems, you know--he, he, he!'

'No,' chuckled Jack;' 'deed it wouldn't--must make the most of him.'

'What sort of a humour is he in to-day?' asked Sponge.

'Middlin',' replied Jack, 'middlin'; he'll abuse you most likely, but that
you mustn't mind.'

'Not I,' replied Sponge, who was used to that sort of thing.

'You mustn't mind me either,' observed Jack, sweeping the last piece of
sausage into his mouth with his knife, and jumping up from the table. 'When
his lordship rows I row,' added he, diving under the side-table for his
flat hat.

'Hark! there's the horn!' exclaimed Sponge, rushing to the window.

'So there is,' responded Jack, standing transfixed on one leg to the spot.

'By the powers, they're away!' exclaimed Sponge, as his lordship was seen
hat in hand careering over the meadow, beyond the cover, with the tail
hounds straining to overtake their flying comrades. Twang--twang--twang
went Frostyface's horn; crack--crack--crack went the ponderous thongs of
the whips; shouts, and yells, and yelps, and whoops, and halloas,
proclaimed the usual wild excitement of this privileged period of the
chase. All was joy save among the gourmands assembled at the door--they
looked blank indeed.

'What a sell!' exclaimed Sponge, in disgust, who, with Jack, saw the
hopelessness of the case.

'Yonder he goes!' exclaimed a lad, who had run up from the cover to see the
hunt from the rising ground.

'Where?' exclaimed Sponge, straining his eyeballs.

'There!' said the lad, pointing due south. 'D'ye see Tommy Claychop's
pasture? Now he's through the hedge and into Mrs. Starveland's turnip
f