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Mr. Sponge's Sporting Tour

Page 37

by Robert Smith Surtees


  CHAPTER XXXVII

  MR. PUFFINGTON'S DOMESTIC ARRANGEMENTS

  Perhaps it was fortunate that Mr. Bragg did take the kennel management uponhimself, or there is no saying but what with that and the house department,coupled with the usual fussiness of a bachelor, the Sponge visit might haveproved too much for our master. The notice of the intended visit was short;and there were invitations to send out, and answers to get, bedrooms toprepare, and culinary arrangements to make--arrangements that people intown, with all their tradespeople at their elbows, can have no idea of thedifficulty of effecting in the country. Mr. Puffington was fully employed.

  In addition to the parties mentioned as asked in his note to LordScamperdale, viz. Washball, Charley Slapp, and Lumpleg, were ParsonBlossomnose; Mr. Fossick of the Flat Hat Hunt, who declined--Mr. Crane ofCrane Hall; Captain Guano, late of that noble corps the Spotted HorseMarines; and others who accepted. Mr. Spraggon was a sort of volunteer, atall events an undesired guest, unless his lordship accompanied him. It sohappened that the least wanted guest was the first to arrive on theall-important day.

  Lord Scamperdale, knowing our friend Jack was not over affluent, had noidea of spoiling him by too much luxury, and as the railway would serve acertain distance in the line of Hanby House, he despatched Jack to theOver-shoes-over-boots station with the dog-cart, and told him he would besure to find a 'bus, or to get some sort of conveyance at the Squandercashstation to take him up to Puffington's; at all events, his lordship addedto himself, 'If he doesn't, it'll do him no harm to walk, and he can easilyget a boy to carry his bag.'

  The latter was the case; for though the station-master assured Jack, on hisarrival at Squandercash, that there was a 'bus, or a mail gig, or asomething to every other train, there was nothing in connexion with the onethat brought him, nor would he undertake to leave his carpet-bag at HanbyHouse before breakfast-time the next morning.

  JACK PROTESTS AGAINST ALL RAILWAYS]

  Jack was highly enraged, and proceeded to squint his eyes inside out, andabuse all railways, and chairmen, and directors, and secretaries, andclerks, and porters, vowing that railways were the greatest nuisances underthe sun--that they were a perfect impediment instead of a facility totravelling--and declared that formerly a gentleman had nothing to do butorder his four horses, and have them turned out at every stage as he cameup, instead of being stopped in the _ridicklous_ manner he then was; and hestrutted and stamped about the station as if he would put a stop to thewhole line. His vehemence and big talk operated favourably on the Cockneystation-master, who, thinking he must be a duke, or some great man, beganto consider how to get him forwarded. It being only a thinly populateddistrict--though there was a station equal to any mercantile emergency,indeed to the requirements of the whole county--he ran the resources of theimmediate neighbourhood through his mind, and at length was obliged toadmit--humbly and respectfully--that he really was afraid Martha Muggins'sdonkey was the only available article.

  Jack fumed and bounced at the very mention of such a thing, vowing that itwas a downright insult to propose it; and he was so bumptious that thestation-master, who had nothing to gain by the transaction, sought theprivacy of the electric telegraph office, and left him to vent the balanceof his wrath upon the porters.

  Of course they could do nothing more than the king of their little colonyhad suggested; and finding there was no help for it, Mr. Spraggon at lastsubmitted to the humiliation, and set off to follow young Muggins with hisbag on the donkey, in his best top-boots, worn under his trousers--anunpleasant operation to any one, but especially to a man like Jack, whopreferred wearing his tops out against the flaps of his friends' saddles,rather than his soles by walking upon them. However, necessity said yes;and cocking his flat hat jauntily on his head, he stuck a cheroot in hismouth, and went smoking and swaggering on, looking--or rathersquinting--bumptiously at everybody he met, as much as to say, 'Don'tsuppose I'm walking from necessity! I've plenty of tin.'

  The third cheroot brought Jack and his suite within sight of Hanby House.

  Mr. Puffington had about got through all the fuss of his preparations,arranged the billets of the guests and of those scarcely less importantpersonages--their servants, allotted the stables, and rehearsed the wines,when a chance glance through the gaily furnished drawing-room windowdiscovered Jack trudging up the trimly kept avenue.

  'Here's that nasty Spraggon,' exclaimed he, eyeing Jack dragging his legsalong, adding, 'I'll be bound to say he'll never think of wiping his filthyfeet if I don't go to meet him.'

  So saying, Puffington rushed to the entrance, and crowning himself with awhite wide-awake, advanced cheerily to do so.

  Jack, who was more used to 'cold shoulder' than cordial reception, squintedand stared with surprise at the unwonted warmth, so different to their lastinterview, when Jack was fresh out of his clay-hole in the Brick Fields;but not being easily put out of his way, he just took Puff as Puff tookhim. They talked of Scamperdale, and they talked of Frostyface, and thenumber of foxes he had killed, the price of corn, and the difference itsprice made in the keep of hounds and horses. Altogether they were very'thick.'

  'And how's our friend Sponge?' asked Puffington, as the conversation atlength began to flag.

  'Oh, he's nicely,' replied Jack, adding, 'hasn't he come yet?'

  'Not that I've seen,' answered Puffington, adding, 'I thought, perhaps, youmight come together.'

  'No,' grunted Jack; 'he comes from Jawleyford's, you know; I'm fromWoodmansterne.'

  'We'll go and see if he's come,' observed Puffington, opening a door in thegarden-wall, into which he had manoeuvred Jack, communicating with thecourtyard of the stable.

  'Here are his horses,' observed Puffington, as Mr. Leather rode through thegreat gates on the opposite side, with the renowned hunters in fullmarching order.

  'Monstrous fine animals they are,' said Jack, squinting intently at them.

  'They are that,' replied Puffington.

  'Mr. Sponge seems a very pleasant, gentlemanly man,' observed Mr.Puffington.

  'Oh, he is,' replied Jack.

  'Can you tell me--can you inform me--that's to say, can you give me anyidea,' hesitated Puffington, 'what is the usual practice--the usualcourse--the usual understanding as to the treatment of those sort ofgentlemen?'

  'Oh, the best of everything's good enough for them,' replied Jack, adding,'just as it is with me.'

  'Ah, I don't mean in the way of eating and drinking, but in the way ofencouragement--in the way of a present, you know?' adding--'What did mylord do?' seeing Jack was slow at comprehension.

  'Oh, my lord bad-worded him well,' replied Jack, adding, 'he didn't getmuch encouragement from him.'

  'Ah, that's the worst of my lord,' observed Puffington; 'he's rathercoarse--rather too indifferent to public opinion. In a case of this sort,you know, that doesn't happen every day, or, perhaps, more than once in aman's life, it's just as well to be favourably spoken of as not, you know';adding, as he looked intently at Jack--'Do you understand me?'

  Jack, who was tolerably quick at a chance, now began to see how thingswere, and to fathom Mr. Puffington's mistake. His ready imaginationimmediately saw there might be something made of it, so he prepared to keepup the delusion.

  'Wh-o-o-y!' said he, straddling out his legs, clasping his hands together,and squinting steadily through his spectacles, to try and see, byPuffington's countenance, how much he would stand. 'W-h-o-o-y!' repeatedhe, 'I shouldn't think--though, mind, it's mere conjectur' on my part--thatyou couldn't offer him less than--twenty or five-and-twenty punds; or, say,from that to thirty,' continued Jack, seeing that Puff's countenanceremained complacent under the rise.

  'And that you think would be sufficient?' asked Puff, adding--'If one doesthe thing at all, you know, it's as well to do it handsomely.'

  'True,' replied Jack, sticking out his great thick lips, 'true. I'm a greatadvocate for doing things handsomely. Many a row I have with my lord forthanking fellows, and saying he'll _remember
_ them instead of giving themsixpence or a shilling; but really I should say, if you were to give himforty or fifty pund--say a fifty--pund note, he'd be--'

  The rest of the sentence was lost by the appearance of Mr. Sponge,cantering up the avenue on the conspicuous piebald. Mr. Puffington and Mr.Spraggon greeted him as he alighted at the door.

  Sponge was quickly followed by Tom Washball; then came Charley Slapp andLumpleg, and Captain Guano came in a gig. Mutual bows and bobs and shakesof the hand being exchanged, amid offers of 'anything before dinner' fromthe host, the guests were at length shown to their respective apartments,from which in due time they emerged, looking like so many bridegrooms.

  First came the worthy master of the hounds himself, in his scarletdress-coat, lined with white satin; Tom Washball, and Charley Slapp alsosported Puff's uniform; while Captain Guano, who was proud of his leg,sported the uniform of the Muffington Hunt--a pea-green coat lined withyellow, and a yellow collar, white shorts with gold garters, and black silkstockings.

  Spraggon had been obliged to put up with Lord Scamperdale's second bestcoat, his lordship having taken the best one himself; but it was passableenough by candle light, and the seediness of the blue cloth was relieved bya velvet collar and a new set of the Flat Hat Hunt buttons. Mr. Sponge worea plain scarlet with a crimson velvet collar, and a bright fox on thefrosted ground of a gilt button, with tights as before; and when Mr. Cranearrived he was found to be attired in a dress composed partly of Mr.Puffington's and partly of the Muggeridge Hunt uniform--the red coat of theformer surmounting the white shorts and black stockings of the other.Altogether, however, they were uncommonly smart, and it is to be hoped thatthey appreciated each other.

  The dinner was sumptuous. Puff, of course, was in the chair; and CaptainGuano coming last into the room, and being very fond of office, was vice.When men run to the 'noble science' of gastronomy, they generally outstripthe ladies in the art of dinner-giving, for they admit of no makeweight, ormerely ornamental dishes, but concentrate the cook's energies on sterlingand approved dishes. Everything men set on is meant to be eaten. Above all,men are not too fine to have the plate-warmer in the room, the deficiencyof hot plates proving fatal to many a fine feast. It was evident that Puffprided himself on his table. His linen was the finest and whitest, hisglass the most elegant and transparent, his plate the brightest, and hiswines the most costly and _recherche_. Like many people, however, who arenot much in the habit of dinner-giving, he was anxious and fussy, toointent upon making people comfortable to allow of their being so, and tooanxious to get victuals and drink down their throats to allow of theirenjoying either.

  He not only produced a tremendous assortment of wines--Hock, Sauterne,Champagne, Barsack, Burgundy, but descended into endless varieties ofsherries and Madeiras. These he pressed upon people, always insisting thatthe last sample was the best.

  In these hospitable exertions Puffington was ably assisted by CaptainGuano, who, being fond of wine, came in for a good quantity; first of allby asking everyone to take wine with him, and then in return every oneasking him to do the same with them. The present absurd non-asking systemwas not then in vogue. The great captain, noisy and talkative at all times,began to be boisterous almost before the cloth was drawn.

  Puffington was equally promiscuous with his after-dinner wines. He had allsorts of clarets, and 'curious old ports.' The party did not seem to haveany objection to spoil their digestions for the next day, and took whateverhe produced with great alacrity. Lengthened were the candle examinations,solemn the sips, and sounding the smacks that preceded the delivery oftheir Campbell-like judgements.

  The conversation, which at first was altogether upon wine, graduallydiverged upon sporting, and they presently brewed up a very considerablecry. Foremost among the noisy ones was Captain Guano. He seemed inclined totake the shine out of everybody.

  'Oh! if they could but find a good fox that would give them a run of tenmiles--say, ten miles--just ten miles would satisfy him--say, fromBarnesley Wold to Chingforde Wood, or from Carleburg Clump to WetherdenHead. He was going to ride his famous horse Jack-a-Dandy--the finest horsethat ever was foaled! No day too long for him--no pace too great forhim--no fence too stiff for him--no brook too broad for him.'

  Tom Washball, too, talked as if wearing a red coat was not the only purposefor which he hunted; and altogether they seemed to be an amazing, sporting,hard-riding set.

  When at length they rose to go to bed, it struck each man as he followedhis neighbour upstairs that the one before him walked very crookedly.

 

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