Mr. Sponge's Sporting Tour
Page 36
CHAPTER XXXVI
MR. BRAGG'S KENNEL MANAGEMENT
The reader will now have the kindness to consider that Mr. Puffington hasundergone his swell huntsman, Dick Bragg, for three whole years, duringwhich time it was difficult to say whether his winter's service or hissummer's impudence was most oppressive. Either way, Mr. Puffington had hadenough both of him and the honours of hound-keeping. Mr. Bragg was not ajudicious tyrant. He lorded it too much over Mr. Puffington; was too fondof showing himself off, and exposing his master's ignorance before theservants, and field. A stranger would have thought that Mr. Bragg, and not'Mr. Puff,' as Bragg called him, kept the hounds. Mr. Puffington took itpretty quietly at first, Bragg inundating him with what they did at theDuke of Downeybird's, Lord Reynard's, and the other great places in whichhe had lived, till he almost made Puff believe that such treatment was anecessary consequence of hound-keeping. Moreover, the cost was heavy, andthe promised subscriptions were almost wholly imaginary; even if they hadbeen paid, they would not have covered a quarter of the expense Mr. Braggran him to; and worst of all, there was an increasing instead of adiminishing expenditure. Trust a servant for keeping things up to the mark.
All things, however, have an end, and Mr. Bragg began to get to the end ofMr. Puff's patience. As Puff got older he got fonder of his five-poundnotes, and began to scrutinize bills and ask questions; to be, as Mr. Braggsaid, 'very little of the gentleman'; Bragg, however, being quite one ofyour 'make-hay-while-the-sun-shines' sort, and knowing too well the styleof man to calculate on a lengthened duration of office, just put on thesteam of extravagance, and seemed inclined to try how much he could spendfor his master. His bills for draft hounds were enormous; he wascontinually chopping and changing his horses, often almost withoutconsulting his master; he had a perfect museum of saddles and bridles, inwhich every invention and variety of bit was exhibited; and he had paid asmuch as twenty pounds to different 'valets' and grooms for invaluablerecipes for cleaning leather breeches and gloves. Altogether, Bragg overdidthe thing; and when Mr. Puffington, in the solitude of a winter's day, tookpen, ink, and paper, and drew out a 'balance sheet,' he found that on theaverage of six brace of foxes to the season, they had cost him about threehundred pounds a head killing. It was true that Bragg always returned fiveor six and twenty brace; but that was as between Bragg and the public, asbetween Bragg and his master the smaller figure was the amount.
Mr. Puffington had had enough of it, and he now thought if he could get Mr.Sponge (who he still believed to be a sporting author on his travels) toimmortalize him, he might retire into privacy, and talk of 'when _I_ kepthounds,' 'when _I_ hunted the country,' 'when _I_ was master of hounds _I_did this, and _I_ did that,' and fuss, and be important as we often seeex-masters of hounds when they go out with other packs. It was thiserroneous impression with regard to Mr. Sponge that took our friend to themeet of Lord Scamperdale's hounds at Scrambleford Green, when he gave Mr.Sponge a general invitation to visit him before he left the country, aninvitation that was as acceptable to Mr. Sponge on his expulsion fromJawleyford Court, as it was agreeable to Mr. Puffington--by opening a routeby which he might escape from the penalty of hound-keeping, and thepersecution of his huntsman.
The reader will therefore now have the kindness to consider Mr. Puffingtonin receipt of Mr. Sponge's note, volunteering a visit.
With gay and cheerful steps our friend hurried off to the kennel, tocommunicate the intelligence to Mr. Bragg of an intended honour that heinwardly hoped would have the effect of extinguishing that great sportingluminary.
Arriving at the kennel, he learned from the old feeder, Jack Horsehide,who, as usual, was sluicing the flags with water, though the weather waswet, that Mr. Bragg was in the house (a house that had been the steward'sin the days of the former owner of Hanby House). Thither Mr. Puffingtonproceeded; and the front door being open he entered, and made for thelittle parlour on the right. Opening the door without knocking, what shouldhe find but the swell huntsman, Mr. Bragg, full fig, in his cap, bestscarlet and leathers, astride a saddle-stand, sitting for his portrait!
'_O, dim it!_' exclaimed Bragg, clasping the front of the stand as if itwas a horse, and throwing himself off, an operation that had the effect ofbringing the new saddle on which he was seated bang on the floor. 'O,sc-e-e-use me, sir,' seeing it was his master, 'I thought it was myservant; this, sir,' continued he, blushing and looking as foolish as mendo when caught getting their hair curled or sitting for their portraits,'this, sir, is my friend, Mr. Ruddle, the painter, sir--yes, sir--verytalented young man, sir--asked me to sit for my portrait, sir--is going topublish a series of portraits of all the best huntsmen in England, sir.'
'And masters of hounds,' interposed Mr. Ruddle, casting a sheep's eye atMr. Puffington.
'And masters of hounds, sir,' repeated Mr. Bragg; 'yes, sir, and masters ofhounds, sir'; Mr. Bragg being still somewhat flurried at the unexpectedintrusion.
'Ah, well,' interrupted Mr. Puffington, who was still eager about hismission, 'we'll talk about that after. At present I'm come to tell you,'continued he, holding up Mr. Sponge's note, 'that we must brush up alittle--going to have a visit of inspection from the great Mr. Sponge.'
'Indeed, sir!' replied Mr. Bragg, with the slightest possible touch of hiscap, which he still kept on. 'Mr. Sponge, sir!--indeed, sir--Mr. Sponge,sir--pray who may _he_ be, sir?'
'Oh--why--hay--hum--haw--he's Mr. Sponge, you know--been hunting with LordScamperdale, you know--great sportsman, in fact--great authority, youknow.' 'Indeed--great authority is he--indeed--oh--yes--thinks sop'raps--sc-e-e-use me, sir, but des-say, sir, I've forgot more, sir, thanMr. Sponge ever knew, sir.'
'Well, but you mustn't tell him so,' observed Mr. Puffington, fearful thatBragg might spoil sport.
'Oh, tell him--no,' sneered Bragg, with a jerk of the head; 'tell him--no;I'm not exactly such a donkey as that; on the contrary, I'll make thingspleasant, sir--sugar his milk for him, sir, in short, sir.'
'Sugar his milk!' exclaimed Mr. Puffington, who was only a matter-of-factman; 'sugar his milk! I dare say he takes tea.'
'Well, then, sugar his tea,' replied Bragg, with a smile, adding, 'can'commodate myself, sir, to circumstances, sir,' at the same time taking offhis cap and setting a chair for his master.
'Thank you, but I'm not going to stay,' replied Mr. Puffington; 'I onlycame up to let you know who you had to expect, so that you might prepare,you know--have all on the square, you know--best horses--best hounds--bestappearance in general, you know.'
'That I'll attend to,' replied Mr. Bragg, with a toss of the head--'that_I'll_ attend to,' repeated he, with an emphasis on the _I'll_, as much asto say, 'Don't you meddle with what doesn't concern you.'
Mr. Puffington would fain have rebuked him for his impertinence, as indeedhe often would fain have rebuked him; but Mr. Bragg had so overpowered himwith science, and impressed him with the necessity of keeping him--albeitMr. Puffington was sensible that he killed very few foxes--that, having putup with him so long, he thought it would never do to risk a quarrel, whichmight lose him the chance of getting rid of him and hounds altogether;therefore, Mr. Puffington, instead of saying, 'You conceited humbug, getout of this,' or indulging in any observations that might lead tocontroversy, said, with a satisfied, confidential nod of the head:
'I'm sure you will--I'm sure you will,' and took his departure, leaving Mr.Bragg, to remount the saddle-stand and take the remainder of his sitting.