I really believe he has talked Puff into believing that there's not such another huntsman under the sun, and really he's as great a muff as ever walked.

He can just dress the character, and that's all.' So saying Jack wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his red coat preparatory to displaying Mr.Bragg upon paper.
'Well, now we are at fault,' said Jack, motioning Sponge to resume; 'we are at fault; now say, "but Mr.Bragg, who had ridden gallantly on his favourite bay, as fine an animal as ever went, though somewhat past mark of mouth--" He _is_ a good horse, at least _was_,' observed Jack, adding, 'I sold Puff him, he was one of old Sugarlip's,' meaning Lord Scamperdale's.
'Sure to be a good 'un, then,' replied Sponge, with a wink, adding, 'I wonder if he'd like to buy any more ?' 'We'll talk about that after,' replied Jack, 'at present let us get on with our run.' 'Well,' said Sponge, 'I've got it: "Mr.Bragg, who had ridden gallantly on his favourite bay, as fine an animal as ever went, though somewhat past mark of mouth--"' '"Was well up with his hounds,"' continued Jack, '"and with a gently, Rantipole! and a single wave of his arm, proceeded to make one of those scientific casts for which this eminent huntsman is so justly celebrated." Justly _celebrated_!' repeated Jack, spitting on the carpet with a hawk of disgust; 'the conceited self-sufficient bantam-cock never made a cast worth a copper, or rode a yard but when he thought somebody was looking at him.' 'I've got it,' said Sponge, who had plied his pen to good purpose.
'Justly celebrated,' repeated Jack, with a snort.

'Well, then, say, "Hitting off the scent like a workman"-- big H, you know, for a fresh sentence--"they went away again at score, and passing by Moorlinch farm buildings, and threading the strip of plantation by Bexley Burn, he crossed Silverbury Green, leaving Longford Hutch to the right, and passing straight on by the gibbet at Harpen." Those are all bits of places, observed Jack, 'that none but the country folks know' indeed, I shouldn't have known them but for shootin' over them when old Bloss lived at the Green.

Well, now, have you got all that ?' asked he.
'"Gibbet at Harpen,"' read Sponge, as he wrote it.
'"Here, then, the gallant pack, breaking from scent to view,"' continued Jack, speaking slowly, '"ran into their fox in the open close upon Mountnessing Wood, evidently his point from the first, and into which a few more strides would have carried him.

It was as fine a run as ever was seen, and the hunting of the hounds was the admiration of all who saw it.