ength accomplished, he stood still awhile to take breath
after the exertion. Then he began to rebutton the easy, brown great-coat,
going deliberately up the whole series, from the small button below, to
keep the laps together, up to the one on the neck, or where the neck would
have been if Jog had not been all stomach up to the chin. He then soused
himself into his seat, and, snorting heavily through his nostrils, took the
reins and whip and long holly from Mr. Sponge, and drove leisurely on.
Sponge sat anathematizing his slowness.

When they reached the farmhouse on the hill the hounds were fairly in view.
The huntsman was casting them, and the horsemen were grouped about as
usual, while the laggers were stealing quietly up the lanes and by-roads,
thinking nobody would see them. Save the whites or the greys, our friends
in the 'chay' were not sufficiently near to descry the colours of the
horses; but Mr. Sponge could not help thinking that he recognized the
outline of the wicked chestnut, Multum-in-Parvo.

'By the powers, but if it is him,' muttered he to himself, clenching his
fist and grinding his teeth as he spoke, 'but I'll--I'll--I'll make _sich_
an example of you,' meaning of Leather.

Mr. Sponge could not exactly say what he would do, for it was by no means a
settled point whether Leather or he were master. But to the hounds. If it
had not been for Mr. Sponge's shabbiness at the turnpike gate, we really
believe he might now have caught them up, for the road to them was down
hill all the way, and the impetus of the vehicle would have sent the old
screw along. That delay, however, was fatal. Before they had gone a quarter
of the distance the hounds suddenly struck the scent at a hedge-row, and,
with heads up and sterns down, went straight away at a pace that
annihilated all hope. They were out of sight in a minute. It was clearly a
case of kill.

'Well, there's a go!' exclaimed Mr. Sponge, folding his arms, and throwing
himself back in the phaeton in disgust. 'I think I never saw such a mess as
we've made this morning.'

And he looked at the stick in the apron, and the long holly between Jog's
legs, and longed to lay them about his great back.

'Well (puff), I s'pose (wheeze) we may as well (puff) home now?' observed
Jog, looking about him quite unconcernedly.

'I think so,' snapped Sponge, adding, 'we've done it for once, at all
events.'

The observation, however, was lost upon Jog, whose mind was occupie