ike a pig in the
straw. Not showing any disposition to appear on the surface again, Mr.
Sponge, after standing a second or two, gave a jerk of his head to Mr.
Pacey, and forthwith conducted him into his own room, shutting the door
between Mr. Spraggon and him.

Mr. Sponge then inquired into the matter, kindly sympathizing with Mr.
Pacey, who he was certain never meant anything disrespectful to Mr.
Spraggon, who, Mr. Sponge thought, seemed rather quick at taking offence;
though, doubtless, as Mr. Sponge observed, 'a man was perfectly right in
being tenacious of his integrity,' a position that he illustrated by a
familiar passage from Shakespeare, about stealing a purse and stealing
trash, &c.

Emboldened by his kindness, Mr. Pacey then got Mr. Sponge on to talk about
the horse of which he had become the unwilling possessor--the renowned
chestnut, Multum-in-Parvo.

Mr. Sponge spoke like a very prudent, conscientious man; said that really
it was difficult to give an opinion about a horse; that what suited one man
might not suit another--that _he_ considered Multum-in-Parvo a very good
horse; indeed, that he wouldn't have parted with him if he hadn't more than
he wanted, and the cream of the season had passed without his meeting with
any of those casualties that rendered the retention of an extra horse or
two desirable. Altogether, he gave Mr. Pacey to understand that he held him
to his bargain. Having thanked Sponge for his great kindness, and got an
order on the groom (Mr. Leather) to have the horse out, Mr. Pacey took his
departure to the stable, and Sponge having summoned his neighbour Mr.
Spraggon from his bed, the two proceeded to a passage window that commanded
a view of the stable-yard.

Mr. Pacey presently went swaggering across it, cracking his jockey whip
against his leg, followed by Mr. Leather, with a saddle on his shoulder and
a bridle in his hand.

'He'd better keep his whip quiet,' observed Mr. Sponge, with a shake of his
head, as he watched Pacey's movements.

'The beggar thinks he can ride anything,' observed Jack.

'He'll find his mistake out just now,' replied Sponge.

Presently the stable-door opened, and the horse stepped slowly and quietly
out, looking blooming and bright after his previous day's gallop. Pacey,
running his eyes over his clean muscular legs and finely shaped form,
thought he hadn't done so far amiss after all. Leather stood at the horse's
head, whistling and soothing him, feel