Tom Washball came, in a fine new coat and new flat-fliped hat with a broad binding; also Mr.
Sparks, of Spark Hall; Major Mark; Mr.Archer, of Cheam Lodge; Mr.Reeves, of Coxwell Green; Mr.Bliss, of Boltonshaw; Mr.Joyce, of Ebstone; Dr.
Capon, of Calcot; Mr.Dribble, of Hook; Mr.Slade, of Three-Burrow Hill; and several others.

Great was the astonishment of each as the other cast up.
'Why, here's Joe Reeves!' exclaimed Blossomnose.

'Who'd have thought of seeing you ?' 'And who'd have thought of seeing _you_ ?' rejoined Reeves, shaking hands with the jolly old nose.
'Here's Tom Washball in time for once, I declare!' exclaimed Mr.Fyle, as Mr.Washball cantered up in apple-pie order.
'Wonders will never cease!' observed Fossick, looking Washy over.
So the field sat in a ring about the hounds in the centre of which, as usual, were Jack and Lord Scamperdale, looking with their great tortoise-shell-rimmed spectacles, and short grey whiskers trimmed in a curve up to their noses, like a couple of horned owls in hats.
'Here's the man on the cow!' exclaimed Jack, as he espied Sponge and Jawleyford rising the hill together, easing their horses by standing in their stirrups and holding on by their manes.
'You don't say so!' exclaimed Lord Scamperdale, turning his horse in the direction Jack was looking, and staring for hard life too.

'So there is, I declare!' observed he.' And who the deuce is this with him ?' 'That ass Jawleyford, as I live!' exclaimed Jack, as the blue-coated servant now hove in sight.
'So it is!' said Lord Scamperdale; 'the confounded humbug!' 'This boy'll be after one of the young ladies,' observed Jack; 'not one of the writing chaps we thought he was.' 'Shouldn't wonder,' replied Lord Scamperdale; adding, in an undertone, 'I vote we have a rise out of old Jaw.

I'll let you in for a good thing--you shall dine with him.' 'Not I,' replied Jack.
'You _shall_, though,' replied his lordship firmly.
'Pray don't!' entreated Jack.
'By the powers, if you don't,' rejoined his lordship, 'you shall not have a mount out of me for a month.' While this conversation was going on, Jawleyford and Sponge, having risen the hill, had resumed their seats in the saddle, and Jawleyford, setting himself in attitude, tickled his horse with his spur, and proceeded to canter becomingly up to the pack; Sponge and the groom following a little behind.
'Ah, Jawleyford, my dear fellow!' exclaimed Lord Scamperdale, putting his horse on a few steps to meet him as he came flourishing up.