‘"Gibbet at Harpen,"’ read Sponge, as he wrote it.

‘"Here, then, the gallant pack, breaking from scent to view,"’ continued Jack, speaking slowly, ’"ran into their fox in the open close upon Mountnessing Wood, evidently his point from the first, and into which a few more strides would have carried him.  It was as fine a run as ever was seen, and the hunting of the hounds was the admiration of all who saw it.  The distance couldn’t have been less than”—­than—­what shall we say?’ asked Jack.

‘Ten, twelve miles, as the crow flies,’ suggested Sponge.

‘No,’ said Jack,’ that would be too much.  Say ten’; adding, ’that will be four miles more than it was.’

‘Never mind,’ said Sponge, as he wrote it; ’folks like good measure with runs as well as ribbons.’

‘Now we must butter old Puff,’ observed Spraggon.

‘What can we say for him?’ asked Sponge; ‘that he never went off the road?’

‘No, by Jove!’ said Jack; ’you’ll spoil all if you do that:  better leave it alone altogether than do that.  Say, “the justly popular owner of this most celebrated pack, though riding good fourteen stone” (he rides far more,’ observed Jack; ’at least sixteen; but it’ll please him to make out that he can ride fourteen), “led the welters, on his famous chestnut horse, Tappey Lappey."’

‘What shall we say about the rest?’ asked Sponge; ’Lumpleg, Slapp, Guano, and all those?’

[Illustration:  JACK AND MR. SPONGE WRITE AN ARTICLE FOR THE SWILLINGFORD PAPER]

‘Oh, say nothin’,’ replied Jack; ‘we’ve nothin’ to do with nobody but Puff, and we couldn’t mention them without bringin’ in our Flat Hat men too—­Blossomnose, Fyle, Fossick, and so on.  Besides, it would spoil all to say that Guano was up—­people would say directly it couldn’t have been much of a run if Guano was there.  You might finish off,’ observed Jack, after a pause, ’by saying that “after this truly brilliant affair, Mr. Puffington, like a thorough sportsman, and one who never trashes his hounds unnecessarily—­unlike some masters,” you may say, “who never know when to leave off” (that will be a hit at Old Scamp,’ observed Jack, with a frightful squint), ’"returned to Hanby House, where a distinguished party of sportsmen—­” or, say, “a distinguished party of noblemen and gentlemen”—­that’ll please the ass more—­“a large party of noblemen and gentlemen were partaking of his”—­his—­what shall we call it?’

‘Grub!’ said Sponge.

‘No, no—­summut genteel—­his—­his—­his—­“splendid hospitality!"’ concluded Jack, waving his arm triumphantly over his head.

‘Hard work, authorship!’ exclaimed Sponge, as he finished writing, and threw down the pen.

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ replied Jack, adding, ‘I could go on for an hour.’

‘Ah, you!—­that’s all very well,’ replied Sponge, ’for you, squatting comfortably in your arm-chair:  but consider me, toiling with my pen, bothered with the writing, and craning at the spelling.’