CHAPTER XXVI
MR. AND MRS. SPRINGWHEAT
'Lord Scamperdale's foxhounds meet on Monday at Larkhall Hill,' &c. &c.--_County Paper_.
The Flat Hat Hunt had relapsed into its wonted quiet, and 'Larkhall Hill'saw none but the regular attendants, men without the slightest particle ofcurve in their hats--hats, indeed, that looked as if the owners sat uponthem when they hadn't them on their heads. There was Fyle, and Fossick, andBlossomnose, and Sparks, and Joyce, and Capon, and Dribble, and a fewothers, but neither Washball nor Puffington, nor any of the holiday birds.
HIS LORDSHIP HAS IT ALL TO HIMSELF]
Precisely at ten, my lord, and his hounds, and his huntsman, and his whips,and his Jack, trotted round Farmer Springwheat's spacious back premises,and appeared in due form before the green rails in front. 'Pride attends usall,' as the poet says; and if his lordship had ridden into the yard, andhalloaed out for a glass of home-brewed, Springwheat would have trappedevery fox on his farm, and the blooming Mrs. Springwheat would have had aninterminable poultry-bill against the hunt; whereas, simply by 'makingthings pleasant'--that is to say, coming to breakfast--Springwheat saw hiscorn trampled on, nay, led the way over it himself, and Mrs. Springwheatsaw her Dorkings disappear without a murmur--unless, indeed, an inquirywhen his lordship would be coming could be considered in that light.
Larkhall Hill stood in the centre of a circle, on a gentle eminence,commanding a view over a farm whose fertile fields and well-trimmed fencessufficiently indicated its boundaries, and looked indeed as if all the goodof the country had come up to it. It was green and luxuriant even inwinter, while the strong cane-coloured stubbles showed what a crop therehad been. Turnips as big as cheeses swelled above the ground. In a littlenarrow dell, whose existence was more plainly indicated from the house byseveral healthy spindling larches shooting up from among the green gorse,was the cover--an almost certain find, with the almost equal certainty of arun from it. It occupied both sides of the sandy, rabbit-frequented dell,through which ran a sparkling stream, and it possessed the great advantageto foot-people of letting them see the fox found. Larkhall Hill was,therefore, a favourite both with horse and foot. So much good--at allevents, so much well-farmed land would seem to justify a better or moreimposing-looking house, the present one consisting, exclusive of theprojecting garret ones in the Dutch tile roof, of the usual four windowsand a door, that so well tell their own tale; passage in the middle,staircase in front, parlour on the right, best ditto on the left, withrooms to correspond above. To be sure, there was a great depth of house tothe back; but this in no way contributed to the importance of the front,from which point alone the Springwheats chose to have it contemplated. Ifthe back arrangements could have been divided, and added to the sides, theywould have made two very good wings to the old red brick rose-entwinedmansion. Having mentioned that its colour was red, it is almost superfluousto add that the door and rails were green.
This was a busy morning at Larkhall Hill. It was the first day of theseason of my lord's hounds meeting there, and the handsome Mrs. Springwheathad had as much trouble in overhauling the china and linen, and in dressingthe children, preparatory to breakfast, as Springwheat had had incollecting knives and forks, and wine-glasses and tumblers for hisdepartment of the entertainment, to say nothing of looking after his newtops and cords. 'The Hill,' as the country people call it, was 'full fig';and a bright, balmy winter's day softened the atmosphere, and felt asthough a summer's day had been shaken out of its place into winter. It isnot often that the English climate is accommodating enough to lend its aidto set off a place to advantage.
Be that, however, as it may, things looked smiling both without and within.Mrs. Springwheat, by dint of early rising and superintendence, had gotthings into such a state of forwardness as to be able to adorn herself witha little jaunty cap--curious in microscopic punctures and cherry-colouredribbon interlardments--placed so far back on her finely-shaped head as toproclaim beyond all possibility of cavil that it was there for ornament,and not for the purpose of concealing the liberties of time with herwell-kept, clearly parted, raven-black hair. Liberties of time, forsooth!Mrs. Springwheat was in the heighday of womanhood; and though she hadpresented Springwheat with twins three times in succession, besides aneldest son, she was as young, fresh-looking, and finely figured as she wasthe day she was married. She was now dressed in a very fine French greymerino, with a very small crochet-work collar, and, of course, capaciousmuslin sleeves. The high flounces to her dress set off her smart waist togreat advantage.
Mrs. Springwheat had got everything ready, and herself too, by the timeLord Scamperdale's second horseman rode into the yard and demanded a stallfor his horse. Knowing how soon the balloon follows the pilot, sheimmediately ranged the Stunner-tartan-clad children in the breakfast-room;and as the first whip's rate sounded as he rode round the corner, she sankinto an easy-chair by the fire, with a lace-fringed kerchief in the onehand and the _Mark Lane Express_ in the other.
'Halloa! Springey!' followed by the heavy crack of a whip, announced thearrival of his lordship before the green palings; and a loud view halloaburst from Jack, as the object of inquiry was seen dancing about theopen-windowed room above, with his face all flushed with the exertion ofpulling on a very tight boot.
'Come in, my lord! pray, come in! The missis is below!' exclaimedSpringwheat, from the window; and just at the moment the pad-groom emergedfrom the house, and ran to his lordship's horse's head.
His lordship and Jack then dismounted, and gave their hacks in charge ofthe servant; while Wake, and Fyle, and Archer, who were also of the party,scanned the countenances of the surrounding idlers, to see in whose handsthey had best confide their nags.
In Lord Scamperdale stamped, followed by his train-band bold, and Maria,the maid, being duly stationed in the passage, threw open the parlour dooron the left, and discovered Mrs. Springwheat sitting in attitude.
'Well, my lady, and how are you?' exclaimed his lordship, advancing gaily,and seizing both her pretty hands as she rose to receive him. 'I declare,you look younger and prettier every time I see you.'
'Oh! my lord,' simpered Mrs. Springwheat, 'you gentlemen are always socomplimentary.'
'Not a bit of it!' exclaimed his lordship, eyeing her intently through hissilver spectacles, for he had been obliged to let Jack have the other pairof tortoiseshell-rimmed ones. 'Not a bit of it,' repeated his lordship. 'Ialways tell Jack you are the handsomest woman in Christendom; don't I,Jack?' inquired his lordship, appealing to his factotum.
'Yes, my lord,' replied Jack, who always swore to whatever his lordshipsaid.
'By Jove!' continued his lordship, with a stamp of his foot, 'if I couldfind such a woman I'd marry her to-morrow. Not such women as you to pick upevery day. And what a lot of pretty pups!' exclaimed his lordship, startingback, pretending to be struck with the row of staring, black-haired,black-eyed, half-frightened children. 'Now, that's what I call a goodentry,' continued his lordship, scrutinizing them attentively, and pointingthem out to Jack; 'all dogs--all boys I mean!' added he.
'No, my lord,' replied Mrs. Springwheat, laughing, 'these are girls,'laying her hand on the heads of two of them, who were now full giggle atthe idea of being taken for boys.
'Well, they're devilish handsome, anyhow,' replied his lordship, thinkinghe might as well be done with the inspection.
Springwheat himself now made his appearance, as fine a sample of a man ashis wife was of a woman. His face was flushed with the exertion of pullingon his tight boots, and his lordship felt the creases the hooks had left ashe shook him by the hand.
'Well, Springey,' said he, 'I was just asking your wife after the newbabby.'
'Oh, thank you, my lord,' replied Springey, with a shake of his curly head;'thank you, my lord; no new babbies, my lord, with wheat below forty, mylord.'
'Well, but you've got a pair of new boots, at all events,' observed hislordship, eyeing Springwheat's refractory calves bagging over the tops ofthem.
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br /> ''Deed have I!' replied Springwheat; 'and a pair of uncommon awkward tightcustomers they are,' added he, trying to move his feet about in them.
'Ah! you should always have a chap to wear your boots a few times beforeyou put them on yourself,' observed his lordship. 'I never have a pair oftight uns,' added he; 'Jack here always does the needful by mine.'
'That's all very well for lords,' replied Mr. Springwheat; 'but us farmerswear out our boots fast enough ourselves, without anybody to help us.'
'Well, but I s'pose we may as well fall to,' observed his lordship, castinghis eye upon the well-garnished table. 'All these good things are meant toeat, I s'pose,' added he: 'cakes, and sweets, and jellies without end: andas to your sideboard,' said he, turning round and looking at it, 'it's amatch for any Lord Mayor's. A round of beef, a ham, a tongue, and is that agoose or a turkey?'
'A turkey, my lord,' replied Springwheat; 'home-fed, my lord.'
'Ah, home-fed, indeed!' ejaculated his lordship, with a shake of the head:'home-fed: wish I could feed at home. The man who said that
E'en from the peasant to the lord, The turkey smokes on every board,
told a big un, for I'm sure none ever smokes on mine.'
'Take a little here to-day, then,' observed Mr. Springwheat, cutting deepinto the white breast.
'I will,' replied his lordship, 'I will: and a slice of tongue, too,' addedhe.
'There are some hot sausingers comin',' observed Mr. Springwheat.
'You _don't_ say so,' replied his lordship, apparently thunderstruck at theannouncement. 'Well, I must have all three. By Jove, Jack!' said he,appealing to his friend, 'but you've lit on your legs coming here. Here's abreakfast fit to set before the Queen--muffins, and crumpets, and cakes.Let me advise you to make the best use of your time, for you have buttwenty minutes,' continued his lordship, looking at his watch, 'and muffinsand crumpets don't come in your way every day.'
''Deed they don't,' replied Jack, with a grin.
'Will your lordship take tea or coffee?' asked Mrs. Springwheat, who hadnow taken her seat at the top of the table, behind a richly chasedequipage for the distribution of those beverages.
''Pon my word,' replied his lordship, apparently bewildered--''pon my word,I don't know what to say. Tea or coffee? To tell you the truth, I was goingto take something out of my black friend yonder,' nodding to where a Frenchbottle like a tall bully was lifting its head above an encircling stand ofliqueur-glasses.
'Suppose you have a little of what we call laced tea, my lord--tea with adash of brandy in it?' suggested Mr. Springwheat.
'Laced tea,' repeated his lordship; 'laced tea: so I will,' said he.'Deuced good idea--deuced good idea,' continued he, bringing the bottle andseating himself on Mrs. Springwheat's right, while his host helped him to amost plentiful plate of turkey and tongue. The table was now about full, aswas the room; the guests just rolling in as they would to a public-house,and helping themselves to whatever they liked. Great was the noise ofeating.
As his lordship was in the full enjoyment of his plateful of meat, hehappened to look up, and, the space between him and the window being clear,he saw something that caused him to drop his knife and fork and fall backin his chair as if he was shot.
'My lord's ill!' exclaimed Mr. Springwheat, who, being the only man withhis nose up, was the first to perceive it.
'Clap him on the back!' shrieked Mrs. Springwheat, who considered that aninfallible recipe for the ailments of children.
'Oh, Mr. Spraggon!' exclaimed both, as they rushed to his assistance, 'whatis the matter with my lord?'
'Oh, that Mister something!' gasped his lordship, bending forward in hischair, and venturing another glance through the window.
Sure enough, there was Sponge, in the act of dismounting from the piebald,and resigning it with becoming dignity to his trusty groom, Mr. Leather,who stood most respectfully--Parvo in hand--waiting to receive it.
Mr. Sponge, being of opinion that a red coat is a passport everywhere,having stamped the mud sparks off his boots at the door, swaggered in withthe greatest coolness, exclaiming as he bobbed his head to the lady, andlooked round at the company:
'What, grubbing away! grubbing away, eh?'
'Won't you take a little refreshment?' asked Mr. Springwheat, in the heartyway these hospitable fellows welcome everybody.
'Yes, I will,' replied Sponge, turning to the sideboard as though it werean inn. 'That's a monstrous fine ham,' observed he; 'why doesn't somebodycut it?'
'Let me help you to some, sir,' replied Mr. Springwheat, seizing thebuck-handled knife and fork, and diving deep into the rich red meat withthe knife.
Mr. Sponge having got two bountiful slices, with a knotch of home-madebrown bread, and some mustard on his plate, now made for the table, andelbowed himself into a place between Mr. Fossick and Sparks, immediatelyopposite Mr. Spraggon.
'Good morning,' said he to that worthy, as he saw the whites of his eyesshowing through his spectacles.
'Mornin',' muttered Jack, as if his mouth was either too full toarticulate, or he didn't want to have anything to say to Mr. Sponge.
'Here's a fine hunting morning, my lord,' observed Sponge, addressinghimself to his lordship, who sat on Jack's left.
'Here's a very fine hunting morning, my lord,' repeated Sponge, not gettingan answer to his first assertion.
'Is it?' blurted his lordship, pretending to be desperately busy with thecontents of his plate, though in reality his appetite was gone.
A dead pause now ensued, interrupted only by the clattering of knives andforks, and the occasional exclamations of parties in want of someparticular article of food. A chill had come over the scene--a chill whosecause was apparent to every one, except the worthy host and hostess, whohad not heard of Mr. Sponge's descent upon the country. They attributed itto his lordship's indisposition, and Mr. Springwheat endeavoured to cheerhim up with the prospect of sport.
'There's a brace, if not a leash, of foxes in cover, my lord,' observed he,seeing his lordship was only playing with the contents of his plate.
'Is there?' exclaimed his lordship, brightening up: 'let's be at 'em!'added he, jumping up and diving under the side-table for his flat hat andheavy iron hammer-headed whip. 'Good morning, my dear Mrs. Springwheat,'exclaimed he, putting on his hat and seizing both her soft fat-fingeredhands and squeezing them ardently. 'Good morning, my dear Mrs.Springwheat,' repeated he, adding, 'By Jove! if ever there was an angel inpetticoats, you're her; I'd give a hundred pounds for such a wife as you!I'd give a thousand pounds for such a wife as you! By the powers! I'd givefive thousand pounds for such a wife as you!' With which asseverations hislordship stamped away in his great clumsy boots, amidst the ill-suppressedlaughter of the party.
'No hurry, gentlemen--no hurry,' observed Mr. Springwheat, as some of thekeen ones were preparing to follow, and began sorting their hats, andmaking the mistakes incident to their being all the same shape. 'No hurry,sir--no hurry, sir,' repeated Springwheat, addressing Mr. Spongespecifically; 'his lordship will have a talk to his hounds yet, and hishorse is still in the stable.'
With this assurance Mr. Sponge resumed his seat at the table, where severalof the hungry ones were plying their knives and forks as if they wereindeed breaking their fasts.
'Well, old boy, and how are you?' asked Sponge, as the whites of Jack'seyes again settled upon him, on the latter's looking up from his platefulof sausages.
'Nicely. How are you?' asked Jack.
'Nicely too,' replied Sponge, in the laconic way men speak who have beenengaged in some common enterprise--getting drunk, pelting people withrotten eggs, or anything of that sort.
'Jaw and the ladies well?' asked Jack, in the same strain.
'Oh, nicely,' said Sponge.
'Take a glass of cherry-brandy,' exclaimed the hospitable Mr. Springwheat:'nothing like a drop of something for steadying the nerves.'
'Presently,' replied Sponge, 'presently; meanwhile I'll trouble the missisfor a cup of coffe
e. Coffee without sugar,' said Sponge, addressing thelady.
'With pleasure,' replied Mrs. Springwheat, glad to get a little custom forher goods. Most of the gentlemen had been at the bottles and sideboard.
Springwheat, seeing Mr. Sponge, the only person who, as a stranger, therewas any occasion for him to attend to, in the care of his wife, now slippedout of the room, and mounting his five-year-old horse, whose tail stuck outlike the long horn of a coach, as his ploughman groom said, rode off tojoin the hunt.
'By the powers, but those are capital sarsingers!' observed Jack, smackinghis lips and eating away for hard life. 'Just look if my lord's on hishorse yet,' added he to one of the children, who had begun to hover roundthe table and dive their fingers into the sweets.
'No,' replied the child; 'he's still on foot, playing with the dogs.'
'Here goes, then,' said Jack, 'for another plate,' suiting the action tothe word, and running with his plate to the sausage-dish.
'Have a hot one,' exclaimed Mrs. Springwheat, adding, 'it will be done in aminute.'
'No, thank ye,' replied Jack, with a shake of the head, adding, 'I might bedone in a minute too.'
'He'll wait for you, I suppose?' observed Sponge, addressing Jack.
'Not so clear about that,' replied Jack, gobbling away; 'time and my lordwait for no man. But it's hardly the half-hour yet,' added he, looking athis watch.
He then fell to with the voracity of a hound after hunting. Sponge, too,made the most of his time, as did two or three others who still remained.
'Now for the jumping-powder!' at length exclaimed Sponge, looking round forthe bottle. 'What shall it be, cherry or neat?' continued he, pointing tothe two. 'Cherry for me,' replied Jack, squinting and eating away withoutlooking up.
'I say _neat_,' rejoined Sponge, helping himself out of the French bottle.
'You'll be hard to hold after that,' observed Jack, as he eyed Spongetossing it off.
'I hope my horse won't,' replied Sponge, remembering he was going to ridethe resolute chestnut.
'You'll show us the way, I dare say,' observed Jack.
'Shouldn't wonder,' replied Sponge, helping himself to a second glass.
'What! at it again!' exclaimed Jack, adding, 'Take care you don't ride overmy lord.'
'I'll take care of the old file,' said Sponge; 'it wouldn't do to kill thegoose that lays the golden what-do-ye-call-'ems, you know--he, he, he!'
'No,' chuckled Jack;' 'deed it wouldn't--must make the most of him.'
'What sort of a humour is he in to-day?' asked Sponge.
'Middlin',' replied Jack, 'middlin'; he'll abuse you most likely, but thatyou mustn't mind.'
'Not I,' replied Sponge, who was used to that sort of thing.
'You mustn't mind me either,' observed Jack, sweeping the last piece ofsausage into his mouth with his knife, and jumping up from the table. 'Whenhis lordship rows I row,' added he, diving under the side-table for hisflat hat.
'Hark! there's the horn!' exclaimed Sponge, rushing to the window.
'So there is,' responded Jack, standing transfixed on one leg to the spot.
'By the powers, they're away!' exclaimed Sponge, as his lordship was seenhat in hand careering over the meadow, beyond the cover, with the tailhounds straining to overtake their flying comrades. Twang--twang--twangwent Frostyface's horn; crack--crack--crack went the ponderous thongs ofthe whips; shouts, and yells, and yelps, and whoops, and halloas,proclaimed the usual wild excitement of this privileged period of thechase. All was joy save among the gourmands assembled at the door--theylooked blank indeed.
'What a sell!' exclaimed Sponge, in disgust, who, with Jack, saw thehopelessness of the case.
'Yonder he goes!' exclaimed a lad, who had run up from the cover to see thehunt from the rising ground.
'Where?' exclaimed Sponge, straining his eyeballs.
'There!' said the lad, pointing due south. 'D'ye see Tommy Claychop'spasture? Now he's through the hedge and into Mrs. Starveland's turnipfield, making right for Bramblebrake Wood on the hill.'
'So he is,' said Sponge, who now caught sight of the fox emerging from theturnips on to a grass field beyond.
Jack stood staring through his great spectacles, without deigning a word.
'What shall we do?' asked Sponge.
'Do?' replied Jack, with his chin still up; 'go home, I should think.'
'There's a man down!' exclaimed a groom, who formed one of the group, as adark-coated rider and horse measured their length on a pasture.
'It's Mr. Sparks,' said another, adding, 'he's always rolling about.'
'Lor', look at the parson!' exclaimed a third, as Blossomnose was seengathering his horse and setting up his shoulders preparatory to riding at agate.
'Well done, old 'un!' roared a fourth, as the horse flew over it,apparently without an effort.
'Now for Tom!' cried several, as the second whip went galloping up on theline of the gate.
'Ah! he won't have it!' was the cry, as the horse suddenly stopped short,nearly shooting Tom over his head. 'Try him again--try him again--take agood run--that's him--there, he's over!' was the cry, as Tom flourished hisarm in the air on landing.
'Look! there's old Tommy Baker, the rat-ketcher!' cried another, as a manwent working his arms and legs on an old white pony across a fallow.
'Ah, Tommy! Tommy! you'd better shut up,' observed another: 'a pig could goas fast as that.'
And so they criticized the laggers.
'How did my lord get his horse?' asked Spraggon of the groom who hadbrought them on, who now joined the eye-straining group at the door.
'It was taken down to him at the cover,' replied the man. 'My lord went inon foot, and the horse went round the back way. The horse wasn't there halfa minute before he was wanted; for no sooner were the hounds in at one endthan out popped the fox at t'other. Sich a whopper!--biggest fox that everwas seen.'
'They are all the biggest foxes that ever were seen,' snapped Mr. Sponge.'I'll be bound he was not a bit bigger than common.'
'I'll be bound not, either,' growled Mr. Spraggon, squinting frightfully atthe man, adding, 'go, get me my hack, and don't be talking nonsense there.'
Our friends then remounted their hacks and parted company in very moderatehumours, feeling fully satisfied that his lordship had done it on purpose.
Mr. Sponge's Sporting Tour Page 26
