Jack, who was more used to ‘cold shoulder’ than cordial reception, squinted and stared with surprise at the unwonted warmth, so different to their last interview, 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 took him.  They talked of Scamperdale, and they talked of Frostyface, and the number of foxes he had killed, the price of corn, and the difference its price made in the keep of hounds and horses.  Altogether they were very ‘thick.’

‘And how’s our friend Sponge?’ asked Puffington, as the conversation at length 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, you might come together.’

‘No,’ grunted Jack; ’he comes from Jawleyford’s, you know; I’m from Woodmansterne.’

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

‘Here are his horses,’ observed Puffington, as Mr. Leather rode through the great gates on the opposite side, with the renowned hunters in full marching 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 any idea,’ hesitated Puffington, ’what is the usual practice—­the usual course—­the usual understanding as to the treatment of those sort of gentlemen?’

‘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 of encouragement—­in the way of a present, you know?’ adding—­’What did my lord do?’ seeing Jack was slow at comprehension.

‘Oh, my lord bad-worded him well,’ replied Jack, adding, ’he didn’t get much encouragement from him.’

‘Ah, that’s the worst of my lord,’ observed Puffington; ’he’s rather coarse—­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 a man’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 things were, and to fathom Mr. Puffington’s mistake.  His ready imagination immediately saw there might be something made of it, so he prepared to keep up 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, by Puffington’s countenance, how much he would stand.  ‘W-h-o-o-y!’ repeated he, ‘I shouldn’t think—­though, mind, it’s mere conjectur’ on my part—­that you couldn’t offer him less than—­twenty or five-and-twenty punds; or, say, from that to thirty,’ continued Jack, seeing that Puff’s countenance remained complacent under the rise.