Spud

“ Neither angels nor devils did this; 'tis the work of men—and I know how to get along with men. I'll go find them. Belike they have saved the lad, Chet, and he'll be waitin' to see me."
He raced back along the corridor, but stopped short at its end, where he had taken flight from the larger passage. There was sound of shrieking voices, and Spud dropped to the floor to present as small a view as possible to the half-human things that trailed their black wings past the metal entrance; then he crept cautiously to peer around the corner, when the last one had gone. ”

“ But,—but——"
"Give us what you have," said Spud, and clearing his throat several times, Songbird began.
"Once more a year has rolled around—
⁠As years have rolled before—
Once more we greet our loving friend—
⁠A true friend to the core!
We hope that in the future he
⁠Will win success and fame,
And go down in our history
⁠A noble"
Bang! came the report of a gun, and the shot was so unexpected that Songbird forgot what he was going to say, and all those at the feast sprang to their feet. Bang! came a second report. ”

“ Thae toffs ken hoo tae haun'le men."
"Whut wey are these officers no' in the Regulars, Ginger?"
"They're like us—they hinna got muckle brains. The Mileeshy's for orphans, unemployed, an' daft folk. But it's the back door tae the Army. If ye can get yer brains an' chest measurement up in the Mileeshy, they'll tak' ye intae the Regulars."
"An' whut are the Non-Commeesioned Officers for?" inquired Spud, still anxious to learn.
"Tae dae a' the dirty work. Ye see, we're a' supposed to be like cuddies—broad backs an' saft heids. The Non-Coms. are peyed tae whup us on—see?" ”

“ Other newly discovered poets have had, apparently, some. Mr. Spudd has had, evidently, none. We lay stress on this point. Without it we claim it is impossible to understand his work.
What we particularly like about Ram Spudd, and we do not say this because we discovered him but because we believe it and must say it, is that he belongs not to one school but to all of them. As a nature poet we doubt very much if he has his equal; as a psychologist, we are sure he has not. As a clear lucid thinker he is undoubtedly in the first rank; while as a mystic he is a long way in front of it. ”

“ Some of his highest flights rise from an entirely different inspiration, and deal with the public affairs of the nation. They are in every sense comparable to the best work of the poets laureate of England dealing with similar themes. As soon as we had seen Ram Spudd’s work of this kind, we cried, that is we said to our stenographer, “What a pity that in this republic we have no laureateship. Here is a man who might truly fill it.” Of the poem of this kind we should wish to quote, if our limits of space did not prevent it, Mr. ”

“ Spode, my luck is extraordinary. I believe in it, I trust in it. And after all, what is luck? Simply another name for Providence, in spite of the Origin of Species and the rest of it. How right the Laureate was when he said that there was more faith in honest doubt, believe me, than in all the ... er, the ... er ... well, you know. I regard you, Mr. Spode, as the emissary of Providence. Your coming marked a turning-point in my life, and the beginning, for me, of happier days. Do you know, one of the first things I shall do when my fortunes are restored will be to buy a hedgehog. ”

“ CHAPTER XLIV WANTED—A RICH GOD-PAPA!
'When one door shuts another opens,' say the saucy servants; and fortune was equally favourable to our friend Mr. Sponge. Though he could not think of any one to whom he could volunteer a visit. Dame Fortune provided him with an overture from a party who wanted him! But we will introduce his new host, or rather victim.
People hunt from various motives—some for the love of the thing—some for show—some for fashion—some for health—some for appetites—some for coffee-housing—some to say they have hunted—some because others hunt. ”

“ Mr. Sponge, who still kept his hand in his pocket, sat on his horse in a state of stupid bewilderment. He had never seen a case of this sort before—a house shut up, and a master of hounds in bed when the hounds were to meet before the door. It couldn't be the case: the woman must be dreaming, or drunk, or both.
'Well, but, my good woman,' exclaimed he, as she gave a punishing cut at the chair, as if to make up for lost time; 'well, but, my good woman, I wish you would try and find somebody who can tell me something about the hounds. I'm sure they must be going to hunt. ”

“ They charged the fence at a wattled pace a few yards below where he sat, and flying across the deep dirty lane, dashed full cry into the pasture beyond.
'Hie back!' cried Sponge. 'Hie back!' trying to turn them; but instead of the piebald carrying him in front of the pack, as Sponge wanted, he took to rearing, and plunging, and pawing the air. The hounds meanwhile dashed jealously on without a scent, till first one and then another feeling ashamed, gave in; and at last a general lull succeeded the recent joyous cry. Awful period! terrible to any one, but dreadful to a stranger! ”

“ Bold is the man who undertakes to write his letters in his bedroom with country-house pens. But, to our friends. Jack and Sponge slept next door to each other; Sponge, as we have already said, occupying the state-room, with its canopy-topped bedstead, carved and panelled sides, and elegant chintz curtains lined with pink, and massive silk-and-bullion tassels; while Jack occupied the dressing-room, which was the state bedroom in miniature, only a good deal more comfortable. ”

“ At the corner of the Rue de l’ Arbre-Sec, he met M. Spon, whose great nose dived almost into his lace cravat.
“Good morning, Monsieur Spon,” he greeted him. “I wish you a happy New Year, and I pray God everything may turn out according to your wishes.”
“Oh! my good sir, don’t say that,” cried M. Spon. “‘T is often for our chastisement that God grants our wishes. Et tribuit eis petittonem eorum.”
“‘Tis very true,” returned M. Chanterelle, “we do not know our own best interests. I am an example myself, as I stand before you. ”

“ He had not calculated upon so much coolness.
'Well,' stammered he, 'that might do, to be sure; but—if—I'm not quite sure that I could take any one—'
'But if you're as thick as you say, you can have no difficulty,' replied our friend.
'True,' replied Jawleyford; 'but then we go a large party ourselves—two and two's four,' said he, 'to say nothing of servants; besides, his lordship mayn't have room—house will most likely be full.'
'Oh, a single man can always be put up; shake-down—anything does for him,' replied Sponge. 'But you would lose your hunting,' replied Jawleyford. ”

“ A stranger—a real out-and-out stranger—had not visited their remote regions since the days of poor Nimrod. 'Who could it be?' But 'the pace,' as Nimrod used to say, 'was too good to inquire.' A little farther on, and Sponge drew upon the great guns of the hunt—the men who ride to hounds, and not after them; the same who had criticized him through the fence—Mr. Wake, Mr. Fossick, Parson Blossomnose, Mr. Fyle, Lord Scamperdale, Jack himself, and others. ”

“ Jawleyford, who was always ready for anybody.
'No good either,' replied Jawleyford—'at all events, we'll be just as well without him. You know him, don't you?' added he, turning to Sponge—'great coarse man in spectacles.'
'Oh yes, I know him,' replied Sponge; 'a great ruffian he is, too,' added he.
'One ought to be in robust health to encounter such a man,' observed Jawleyford, 'and have time to get a man or two of the same sort to meet him. We can do nothing with such a man. I can't understand how his lordship puts up with such a fellow.'
'Finds him useful, I suppose,' observed Mr. Sponge. ”

“ Not being the man to put his candle under a bushel, Mr. Sponge took the principal streets on his way out of town. We are not sure that he did not go rather out of his way to get them in, but that is neither here nor there, seeing he was a stranger who didn't know the way. What a sensation his appearance created as the gallant brown stepped proudly and freely up Coronation Street, showing his smart, clean, well-put-on head up and down on the unrestrained freedom of the snaffle. ”

“ Spugg was standing among a little group of listening members of the club and when he said that he had decided to send his chauffeur, he spoke with a kind of simple earnestness, a determination that marks the character of the man.
"Yes," he said, "we need all the man power we can command. This thing has come to a showdown and we've got to recognise it. I told Henry that it's a showdown and that he's to get ready and start right away."
"Well, Spugg," said one of the members "you're certainly setting us a fine example."
"What else can a man do?" said Mr. Spugg. ”

“ Sponge, thinking his groom seemed wonderfully enthusiastic in his interest.
'Why, the hupshot of it is,' replied Leather, 'that the men are all mad, and the women all wild to see you. I hear at my club, the Mutton Chop and Mealy Potato Club, which is frequented by flunkies as well as grums, that there's nothin' talked of at dinner or tea, but the terrible rich stranger that's a comin', and the gals are all pulling caps, who's to have the first chance.'
'Indeed,' observed Mr. Sponge, chuckling at the sensation he was creating. ”

“ I really don't know any man that I have so great a dislike to, so utter a contempt for, as that Jack, as they call him.'
'What is he?' asked Sponge.
'Oh, just a hanger-on of his lordship's; the creature has nothing—nothing whatever; he lives on my lord—eats his venison, drinks his claret, rides his horses, bullies those his lordship doesn't like to tackle with, and makes himself generally useful.'
'He seems a man of that sort,' observed Sponge, as he thought over the compliment he had received.
'Well, who else had you out, then?' asked Jawleyford. ”

“ And when in the mid-day, the fishermen and the boatmen retired for their meals, when the householders enjoyed their siesta, the birds hushed their singing, the ferry-boats stopped their course, when the noisy world suddenly stopped in the midst of its work and assumed an awful aspect of solitude, then under the great fiery firmament sat silent and face to face, mute Nature and a mute maiden, one under the wide expanse of sunlight, the other under the shade of trees.
Not that Subha had not a number of intimate friends. These were the two cows of the cow-shed—Sharvasi and Panguli. ”

“ As he sauntered along, musing on the mishaps of the chase, wondering how Miss Jawleyford would look, and playing himself an occasional tune with his spur against his stirrup, who should come trotting behind him but Mr. Leather on the redoubtable chestnut? Mr. Sponge beckoned him alongside. The horse looked blooming and bright; his eye was clear and cheerful, and there was a sort of springy graceful action that looked like easy going.
One always fancies a horse most with another man on him. ”

“ There are few great men who haven't a dozen people, at least, who 'keep them right,' as they call it. To hear some of the creatures talk, one would fancy a lord was a lunatic as a matter of course.
Spigot at last put an end to their efforts by announcing that 'tea and coffee were ready!' just as Mr. Sponge buzzed his bottle of port. ”

“ Sponge, who got well through the wood, has been going at his ease, the great striding brown throwing the large fields behind him with ease, and taking his leaps safely and well. He now shows to the front, and old Tom, who is still 'F—o—o—r—rarding' to his hounds, either rather falls back to the field or the field draws upon him. At all events they get together somehow. ”

“ Puffington, 'these Flat Hat chaps are all snobs. They think there are no such fine fellows as themselves under the sun; and if ever a stranger looks near them, they make a point of being as rude and disagreeable to him as they possibly can. This is what they call keeping the hunt select.'
'Indeed,' observed Mr. Sponge, recollecting how they had complimented him, adding, 'they seem a queer set.'
'There's a fellow they call "Jack,"' observed Mr. Puffington, 'who acts as a sort of bulldog to his lordship, and worries whoever his lordship sets him upon. ”

“ Puffington, eyeing the much-stained Hercules.
'Almost over head,' replied Sponge. 'Scamperdale saw me going, and hadn't the grace to halloa.'
'Ah, that's like him,' replied Mr. Puffington, 'that's like him: there's nothing pleases him so much as getting fellows into grief.'
'Not very polite to a stranger,' observed Mr. Sponge.
'No, it isn't,' replied Mr. Puffington, 'no, it isn't; far from it indeed—far from it; but, low be it spoken,' added he, 'his lordship is only a roughish sort of customer.'
'So he is,' replied Mr. Sponge, who thought it fine to abuse a nobleman. ”

“ Sponge, who had kept his eye on the spot he last viewed them, and now saw the horsemen titt-up-ing across a grass field in the easy way that distance makes very uneasy riding look. 'Cut along!' exclaimed he, laying into the horse's hind-quarters with his hunting-whip.
'Don't! the horse is (puff) tired,' retorted Jog angrily, holding the horse, instead of letting him go to Sponge's salute. ”

“ Slop, (turning to my father) as positive as these old ladies generally are,—'tis a point very difficult to know,—and yet of the greatest consequence to be known;—because, Sir, if the hip is mistaken for the head,—there is a possibility (if it is a boy) that the forceps ***************************.
—What the possibility was, Dr. Slop whispered very low to my father, and then to my uncle Toby.—There is no such danger, continued he, with the head.—No, in truth, quoth my father,—but when your possibility has taken place at the hip,—you may as well take off the head too. ”