Our friend, soon finding that he was ‘cock of the walk,’ had no notion of exchanging his greatness for the nothingness of London, and, save going up occasionally to see about opening the flood-gates of his fortune, he spent nearly the whole summer at Laverick Wells.  A fine season it was, too—­the finest season the Wells had ever known.  When at length the long London season closed, there was a rush of rank and fashion to the English watering-places, quite unparalleled in the ’recollection of the oldest inhabitants.’  There were blooming widows in every stage of grief and woe, from the becoming cap to the fashionable corset and ball flounce—­widows who would never forget the dear deceased, or think of any other man—­unless he had at least five thousand a year.  Lovely girls, who didn’t care a farthing if the man was ‘only handsome’; and smiling mammas ‘egging them on,’ who would look very different when they came to the horrid L s. d.  And this mercantile expression leads us to the observation that we know nothing so dissimilar as a trading town and a watering-place.  In the one, all is bustle, hurry, and activity; in the other, people don’t seem to know what to do to get through the day.  The city and west-end present somewhat of the contrast, but not to the extent of manufacturing or sea-port towns and watering-places.  Bathing-places are a shade better than watering-places in the way of occupation, for people can sit staring at the sea, counting the ships, or polishing their nails with a shell, whereas at watering-places, they have generally little to do but stare at and talk of each other, and mark the progress of the day, by alternately drinking at the wells, eating at the hotels, and wandering between the library and the railway station.  The ladies get on better, for where there are ladies there are always fine shops, and what between turning over the goods, and sweeping the streets with their trains, making calls, and arranging partners for balls, they get through their time very pleasantly; but what is ‘life’ to them is often death to the men.

CHAPTER VI

LAVERICK WELLS

[Illustration]

The flattering accounts Mr. Sponge read in the papers of the distinguished company assembled at Laverick Wells, together with details of the princely magnificence of the wealthy commoner, Mr. Waffles, who appeared to entertain all the world at dinner after each day’s hunting made Mr. Sponge think it would be a very likely place to suit him.  Accordingly, thither he despatched Mr. Leather with the redoubtable horses by the road, intending to follow in as many hours by the rail as it took them days to trudge on foot.

Railways have helped hunting as well as other things, and enables a man to glide down into the grass ‘sheers,’ as Mr. Buckram calls them, with as little trouble, and in as short a time almost, as it took him to accomplish a meet at Croydon, or at the Magpies at Staines.  But to our groom and horses.