'Was Tom Washball there ?' 'No,' replied Sponge: '_he_ wasn't out, I know.' 'Ah, that's unfortunate,' observed Jawleyford, helping himself and passing the bottle.

'Tom's a capital fellow--a perfect gentleman--great friend of mine.

If he'd been out you'd have had nothing to do but mention my name, and he'd have put you all right in a minute.

Who else was there, then ?' continued he.
'There was a tall man in black, on a good-looking young brown horse, rather rash at his fences, but a fine style of goer.' 'What!' exclaimed Jawleyford, 'man in drab cords and jack-boots, with the brim of his hat rather turning upwards ?' 'Just so,' replied Sponge; 'and a double ribbon for a hat-string.' 'That's Master Blossomnose,' observed Jawleyford, scarcely able to contain his indignation.

'That's Master Blossomnose,' repeated he, taking a back hand at the port in the excitement of the moment.