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Spraggon greeted him as he alighted at the door. Sponge was quickly followed by Tom Washball; then came Charley Slapp and Lumpleg, and Captain Guano came in a gig.
'Is he! exclaimed Slapp, cantering past at his ease on a thoroughbred grey, as if he could well afford to dispense with a start. Reader! it was neither Lumpleg nor Slapp, nor any of the Puffington snobs, or Flat Hat swells, or Puffington swells, or Flat Hat snobs. It was our old friend Sponge; Monsieur Tonson again!
First came the worthy master of the hounds himself, in his scarlet dress-coat, lined with white satin; Tom Washball, and Charley Slapp also sported Puff's uniform; while Captain Guano, who was proud of his leg, sported the uniform of the Muffington Hunt a pea-green coat lined with yellow, and a yellow collar, white shorts with gold garters, and black silk stockings.
There is also Farmer Peastraw, and faces that a patient inspection enables us to appropriate to Dribble, and Hook, and Capon, and Calcot, and Lumpleg, and Crane of Crane Hall, and Charley Slapp of red-coat times people look so different in plain clothes to what they do in hunting ones. Here, too, is George Cheek, running down with perspiration, having run over from Dr.
The conversation got brisker and brisker: and before the cloth was drawn there was a very general clamour, in which all sorts of subjects seemed to be mixed each man addressing himself to his immediate neighbour; one talking of taxes another of tares a third, of hunting and the system of kennel a fourth, of the corn-laws old Blossomnose, about tithes Slapp, about timber and water-jumping Miller, about Collison's pills; and Guano, about anything that he could get a word edged in about.
'Brace and a ha-r-r-f! drawls Slapp, in well-feigned disgust; 'brace and a ha-r-r-f! why, it makes them ten brace, and six run to ground. 'Oh, don't tell me, retorts Frosty, with a shake of disgust; 'don't tell me. I knows better I knows better. They'd only killed a brace since they began hunting up to yesterday. The rest were all cubs, poor things! all cubs, poor things! Mr.
'I'll lay a guinea Pacey doesn't hold money, exclaimed Guano. 'Done! exclaimed Parson Blossomnose. 'I'll bet it does, observed Charley Slapp. 'I'll take you, replied Mr. Miller. Then the hubbub of betting commenced, and raged with fury for a short time; some betting sovereigns, some half-sovereigns, other half-crowns and shillings, as to whether the hands of one or both held money.
'What can we say for him? asked Sponge; 'that he never went off the road? 'No, by Jove! said Jack; 'you'll spoil all if you do that: better leave it alone altogether than do that. 'What shall we say about the rest? asked Sponge; 'Lumpleg, Slapp, Guano, and all those?
His lordship then picked the letter from the floor, and resumed where he had left off. "I expect you will meet Tom Washball, Lumpleg, and Charley Slapp." 'A very pretty party, observed Jack, adding, 'Wouldn't be seen goin' to a bull-bait with any on 'em. 'Nor I, replied his lordship. 'Birds of a feather, observed Jack. 'Just so, said his lordship, resuming his reading.
'Well, Frosty, I suppose you've heard what a run we had yesterday? exclaims Charley Slapp, as soon as Frosty and the hounds are settled. 'Had they, sir had they? replies Frosty, with a slight touch of his cap and a sneer. 'Glad to hear it, sir glad to hear it. Hope they killed, sir hope they killed! with a still slighter touch of the cap.
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