rdale, bursting into his
sanctum where Mr. Spraggon sat in his hunting coat and slippers, spelling
away at a second-hand copy of _Bell's Life_ by the light of a melancholy
mould candle. 'Hooray, Jack! hooray!' repeated he, waving that proud
trophy, a splendid fox's brush, over his grizzly head.

His lordship was the picture of delight. He had had a tremendous run--the
finest run that ever was seen! His hounds had behaved to perfection; his
horse--though he had downed him three times--had carried him well, and his
lordship stood with his crownless flat hat in his hand, and one coat lap in
the pocket of the other--a grinning, exulting, self-satisfied specimen of a
happy Englishman.

'Lor! what a sight you are!' observed Jack, turning the light of the candle
upon his lordship's dirty person. 'Why, I declare you're an inch thick with
mud,' he added, 'mud from head to foot,' he continued, working the light up
and down.

'Never mind the mud, you old badger!' roared his lordship, still waving the
brush over his head: 'never mind the mud, you old badger; the mud'll come
off, or may stay on; but such a run as we've had does not come off every
day.'

'Well, I'm glad you have had a run,' replied Jack. 'I'm glad you have had a
run,' adding, 'I was afraid at one time that your day's sport was spoiled.'

'Well, do you know,' replied his lordship, 'when I saw that unrighteous
snob, I was near sick. If it were possible for a man to faint, I should
have thought I was going to do so. At first I thought of going home, taking
the hounds away too; then I thought of going myself and leaving the hounds;
then I thought if I left the hounds it would only make the sinful
scaramouch more outrageous, and I should be sitting on pins and needles
till they came home, thinking how he was crashing among them. Next I
thought of drawing all the unlikely places in the country, and making a
blank day of it. Then I thought that would only be like cutting off my nose
to spite my face. Then I didn't know what on earth to do. At last, when I
saw the critter's great pecker steadily down in his plate, I thought I
would try and steal a march upon him, and get away with my fox while he was
feeding; and, oh! how thankful I was when I looked back from Bramblebrake
Hill, and saw no signs of him in the distance.'

'It wasn't likely you'd see him,' interrupted Jack, 'for he never got away
from the front door. I twigged what you were after, and kept him up in talk