han would have been desirable for successful
display in a second run. Mr. Sponge, therefore, determined to go home.

As he sauntered along, musing on the mishaps of the chase, wondering how
Miss Jawleyford would look, and playing himself an occasional tune with his
spur against his stirrup, who should come trotting behind him but Mr.
Leather on the redoubtable chestnut? Mr. Sponge beckoned him alongside. The
horse looked blooming and bright; his eye was clear and cheerful, and there
was a sort of springy graceful action that looked like easy going.

One always fancies a horse most with another man on him. We see all his
good points without feeling his imperfections--his trippings, or startings,
or snatchings, or borings, or roughness of action, and Mr. Sponge
proceeded to make a silent estimate of Multum in Parvo's qualities as he
trotted gently along on the grassy side of the somewhat wide road.

'By Jove! it's a pity but his lordship had seen him,' thought Sponge, as
the emulation of companionship made the horse gradually increase his pace,
and steal forward with the lightest, freest action imaginable.' If he was
but all right,' continued Sponge, with a shake of the head, 'he would be
worth any money, for he has the strength of a dray-horse, with the symmetry
and action of a racer.'

Then Sponge thought he shouldn't have an opportunity of showing the horse
till Thursday, for Jack had satisfied him that the next day's meet was
quite beyond distance from Jawleyford Court.

'It's a bore,' said he, rising in his stirrups, and tickling the piebald
with his spurs, as if he were going to set-to for a race. He thought of
having a trial of speed with the chestnut, up a slip of turf they were now
approaching; but a sudden thought struck him, and he desisted. 'These
horses have done nothing to-day,' he said; 'why shouldn't I send the
chestnut on for to-morrow?'

'Do you know where the cross-roads are?' he asked his groom.

'Cross-roads, cross-roads--what cross-roads?' replied Leather.

'Where the hounds meet to-morrow.'

'Oh, the cross-roads at Somethin' Burn,' rejoined Leather
thoughtfully--'no, 'deed, I don't,' he added. 'From all 'counts, they seem
to be somewhere on the far side of the world.'

That was not a very encouraging answer; and feeling it would require a good
deal of persuasion to induce Mr. Leather to go in search of them without
clothing and the necessary requirements for his horses, Mr. Sponge went
tro