of the rising ground on which
Mr. Sponge had marked the birds. Ponto, whose energetic exertions had been
gradually relaxing, until he had settled down to a leisurely hunting-dog,
suddenly stood transfixed, with the right foot up, and his gaze settled on
a rushy tuft.

'P-o-o-n-to!' ejaculated Jog, expecting every minute to see him dash at it.
'P-o-o-n-to!' repeated he, raising his hand.

Mr. Sponge stood on the tip-toe of expectation; Jog raised his wide-awake
hat from his eyes and advanced cautiously with the engine of destruction
cocked. Up started a great hare; bang! went the gun, with the hare none the
worse. Bang! went the other barrel, which the hare acknowledged by two or
three stotting bounds and an increase of pace.

'Well missed!' exclaimed Mr. Sponge.

Away went Ponto in pursuit.

'P-o-o-n-to!' shrieked Jog, stamping with rage.

'I could have wiped your nose,' exclaimed Mr. Sponge, covering the hare
with a hedge-stake placed to his shoulder like a gun.

'Could you?' growled Jog; ''spose you wipe your own,' added he, not
understanding the meaning of the term.

Meanwhile, old Ponto went rolling away most energetically, the farther he
went the farther he was left behind, till the hare having scuttled out of
sight, he wheeled about and came leisurely back, as if he was doing all
right.

Jog was very wroth, and vented his anger on the dog, which, he declared,
had caused him to miss, vowing, as he rammed away at the charge, that he
never missed such a shot before. Mr. Sponge stood eyeing him with a look of
incredulity, thinking that a man who could miss such a shot could miss
anything. They were now all ready for a fresh start, and Ponto, having
pocketed his objurgation, dashed forward again up the rising ground over
which the covey had dropped.

Jog's thick wind was a serious impediment to the expeditious mounting of
the hill, and the dog seemed aware of his infirmity, and to take pleasure
in aggravating him.

'P-o-o-n-to!' gasped Jog, as he slipped, and scrambled, and toiled, sorely
impeded by the encumbrance of his gun.

But P-o-o-n-to heeded him not. He knew his master couldn't catch him, and
if he did, that he durstn't flog him.

'P-o-o-n-to!' gasped Jog again, still louder, catching at a bush to prevent
his slipping back. 'T-o-o-h-o-o! P-o-o-n-to!' wheezed he; but the dog just
rolled his great stern, and bustled about more actively than ever.

'Hang ye! but I'd cut you in two if I had you!' e