Nor was this the only way in which he made himself useful, for Nonsuch House being now supported almost entirely by voluntary contributions—­that is to say, by the gullibility of tradesmen—­his street and shop knowledge was valuable in determining who to ‘do.’  With the Post Office Directory and Mr. Sponge at his elbow, Mr. Bottleends, the butler—­’delirius tremendous,’ as Bottleends called it, having quite incapacitated Sir Harry—­wrote off for champagne from this man, sherry from that, turtle from a third, turbot from a fourth, tea from a fifth, truffles from a sixth, wax-lights from one, sperm from another; and down came the things with such alacrity, such thanks for the past and hopes for the future, as we poor devils of the untitled world are quite unacquainted with.  Nay, not content with giving him the goods, many of the poor demented creatures actually paraded their folly at their doors in new deal packing-cases, flourishingly directed ’TO SIR HARRY SCATTERCASH, BART., NONSUCH HOUSE, &c. By Express Train.’  In some cases they even paid the carriage.

And here, in the midst of love, luxury, and fox-hunting, let us for a time leave our enterprising friend, Mr. Sponge, while we take a look at a species of cruelty that some people call ‘sport.’  For this purpose we will begin a fresh chapter.

CHAPTER LXVII

HOW THEY GOT UP THE ‘GRAND ARISTOCRATIC STEEPLE-CHASE’

There is no saying what advantages railway communication may confer upon a country.  But for the Granddiddle Junction, ——­shire never would have had a steeple-chase—­an ‘Aristocratic,’ at least—­for it is observable that the more snobbish a thing is, the more certain they are to call it aristocratic.  When it is too bad for anything, they call it ‘Grand.’  Well, as we said before, but for the Granddiddle Junction, ——­shire would never have had a ‘Grand Aristocratic Steeple-Chase.’  A few friends or farmers might have got up a quiet thing among themselves, but it would never have seen a regular trade transaction, with its swell mob, sham captains, and all the paraphernalia of odd laying, ‘secret tips,’ and market rigging.  Who will deny the benefit that must accrue to any locality by the infusion of all the loose fish of the kingdom?

Formerly the prize-fights were the perquisite of the publicans.  They it was who arranged for Shaggy Tom to pound Harry Billy’s nob upon So-and-so’s land, the preference being given to the locality that subscribed the most money to the fight.  Since the decline of ‘the ring,’ steeple-chasing, and that still smaller grade of gambling—­coursing, have come to their aid.  Nine-tenths of the steeple-chasing and coursing-matches are got up by inn-keepers, for the good of their houses.  Some of the town publicans, indeed, seem to think that the country was just made for their matches to come off in, and scarcely condescend to ask the leave of the landowners.