CHAPTER LXII
A FAMILY BREAKFAST
'Twere almost superfluous to say that NEW YEAR'S DAY is always agreat holiday. It is a day on which custom commands people to be happy andidle, whether they have the means of being happy and idle or not. It is aday for which happiness and idleness are 'booked,' and parties are plannedand arranged long beforehand. Some go to the town, some to the country;some take rail; some take steam; some take greyhounds; some take gigs;while others take guns and pop at all the little dicky-birds that come intheir way. The rural population generally incline to a hunt. They are notvery particular as to style, so long as there are a certain number ofhounds, and some men in scarlet, to blow their horns, halloo, and cracktheir whips.
The population, especially the rising population about Nonsuch House, allinclined that way. A New Year's Day's hunt with Sir Harry had long beenlooked forward to by the little Raws, and the little Spooneys, and the bigand little Cheeks, and we don't know how many others. Nay, it had beentalked of by the elder boys at their respective schools--we beg pardon,academies--Dr. Switchington's, Mr. Latherington's, Mrs. Skelper's, and aliberal allowance of boasting indulged in, as to how they would show eachother the way over the hedges and ditches. The thing had long been talkedof. Old Johnny Raw had asked Sir Harry to arrange the day so long ago thatSir Harry had forgotten all about it. Sir Harry was one of thosegood-natured souls who can't say 'No' to any one. If anybody had asked ifthey might set fire to his house, he would have said:
'Oh (hiccup) certainly, my dear (hiccup) fellow, if it will give you any(hiccup) pleasure.'
Now, for the hiccup day.
It is generally a frost on New Year's Day. However wet and sloppy theweather may be up to the end of the year, it generally turns over a newleaf on that day. New Year's Day is generally a bright, bitter, sunshinyday, with starry ice, and a most decided anti-hunting feeling aboutit--light, airy, ringy, anything but cheery for hunting.
Thus it was in Sir Harry Scattercash's county. Having smoked and drunk theold year out, the captains and company retired to their couches withoutthinking about hunting. Mr. Sponge, indeed, was about tired of asking whenthe hounds would be going out. It was otherwise, however, with the risinggeneration, who were up betimes, and began pouring in upon Nonsuch House inevery species of garb, on every description of steed, by every line andavenue of approach.
'Halloo! what's up now?' exclaimed Lady Scattercash, as she caught view ofthe first batch rounding the corner to the front of the house.
'Who have we here?' asked Miss Glitters, as a ponderous, parti-colouredclown, on a great, curly-coated cart-horse, brought up the rear.
'Early callers,' observed Captain Seedeybuck, eating away complacently.
'Friends of Mr. Sponge's, most likely,' suggested Captain Quod.
'Some of the little Sponges come to see their pa, p'raps,' lisped MissHoward, pretending to be shocked after she had said it.
'Bravo, Miss Howard!' exclaimed Captain Cutitfat, clapping his hands.
'_I_ said nothing, Captain,' observed the young lady with becoming prudery.
'Here we are again!' exclaimed Captain Quod, as a troop of various-sizedurchins, in pea-jackets, with blue noses and red comforters, on very shaggyponies, the two youngest swinging in panniers over an ass, drew upalongside of the first comers.
'Whose sliding-scale of innocence is that, I wonder!' exclaimed MissHoward, contemplating the variously sized chubby faces through the window.
'He, he, he! ho, ho, ho!' giggled the guests.
Another batch of innocence now hove in sight.
'Oh, those are the little (hiccup) Raws,' observed Sir Harry, catchingsight of the sky-blue collar of the servant's long drab coat. 'Good chap,old Johnny Raw; ask them to (hiccup) in,' continued he, 'and give them some(hiccup) cherry brandy'; and thereupon Sir Harry began nodding and smiling,and making signs to them to come in. The youngsters, however, maintainedtheir position.
'The little stupexes!' exclaimed Miss Howard, going to the window, andthrowing up the sash. 'Come in, young gents!' cried she, in a commandingtone, addressing herself to the last comers. 'Come in, and have some toffyand lollypops! D'ye hear?' continued she, in a still louder voice, andmotioning her head towards the door.
The boys sat mute.
'You little stupid monkeys,' muttered she in an undertone, as the cold airstruck upon her head. 'Come in, like good boys,' added she in a louder key,pointing with her finger towards the door.
'Nor, thenk ye!' at last drawled the elder of the boys.
'Nor, thenk ye!' repeated Miss Howard, imitating the drawl. 'Why not?'asked she sharply.
The boy stared stupidly.
'Why won't you come in?' asked she, again addressing him.
'Don't know!' replied the boy, staring vacantly at his younger brother, ashe rubbed a pearl off his nose on the back of his hand.
'Don't know!' ejaculated Miss Howard, stamping her little foot on theTurkey carpet.
'Mar said we hadn't,' whined the younger boy, coming to the rescue of hisbrother.
'Mar said we hadn't!' retorted the fair interrogator. 'Why not?'
'Don't know,' replied the elder.
'Don't know! you little stupid animal,' snapped Miss Howard, the cold airincreasing the warmth of her temper. 'I wonder what you _do_ know. Why didyour ma say you were not to come in?' continued she, addressing the youngerone.
'Because--because,' hesitated he, 'she said the house was full oftrumpets.'
'Trumpets, you little scamp!' exclaimed the lady, reddening up; 'I'll get awhip and cut your jacket into ribbons on your back.' And thereupon shebanged down the window and closed the conversation.
Mr. Sponge's Sporting Tour Page 62