Above all, he had marked some very promising-looking sticks--two blackthorns and a holly--to cut on his way home, and he was intent on not missing them.

So sudden was the jerk that announced his coming on the first one, as nearly to throw the old family horse on his knees, and almost to break Mr.Sponge's nose against the brass edge of the cocked-up splash-board.

Ere Mr.Sponge recovered his equilibrium, the whip was in the case, the reins dangling about the old screw's heels, and Mr.Crowdey scrambling up a steep bank to where a very thick boundary-hedge shut out the view of the adjacent country.

Presently, chop, chop, chop, was heard, from Mr.Crowdey's pocket axe, with a tug--wheeze--puff from himself; next a crash of separation; and then the purple-faced Mr.Crowdey came bearing down the bank dragging a great blackthorn bush after him.
'What have you got there ?' inquired Mr.Sponge, with surprise.
'Got! (wheeze--puff--wheeze),' replied Mr.Crowdey, pulling up short, and mopping his perspiring brow with a great claret-coloured bandana.

'Got! I've (puff--wheeze) got what I (wheeze) think will (puff) into a most elaborate and (wheeze) valuable walking-stick.