302 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 



" Stables (wheeze), stables (puff)," repeated Crowdey, thinking 

 of his troubles — of its being washing-day, and Mary Ann, or Murry 

 Ann, as he called her, the under-butler, being engaged ; of 

 Bartholomew Badger having the horse and fe-a-ton to clean, &c. 

 — "stables," repeated he for the third time ; "stables are at the 

 back, behind, in fact ; you'll see a (puff) vane — a (wheeze) fox, on 

 the top." 



" Ah, indeed ! " replied Mr. Sponge, brightening up, thinking 

 there would be old hay and corn. 



They now came to a half-Swiss, half-Gothic little cottage of a 

 lodge, and the old horse turned instinctively into the open white 

 gate with pea-green bands. 



" Here's Mrs. Crow — Crow — Crowdey ! " gasped Jogglebury, 

 convulsively, as a tall woman, in flare-up red and yellow stunner 

 tartan, with a swarm of little children, similarly attired, suddenly 

 appeared at an angle of the road, the lady handling a great alpaca 

 umbrella-looking parasol in the stand-and-deliver style. 



" What's kept you ? " exclaimed she, as the vehicle got within 

 ear-shot. " What's Icept you ? " repeated she, in a sharper key, 

 holding her parasol across the road, but taking no notice of our 

 friend Sponge, who, in truth, she took for Edgebone, the butcher. 

 " Oh ! you've been after your sticks, have you ? " added she, as 

 her spouse drew the vehicle up alongside of her, and she caught 

 the contents of the apron-straps. 



"My dear (puff)" gasped her husband, "I've brought Mr. 

 (wheeze) Sponge," said he, winking his right eye, and jerking his 

 head over his left shoulder, looking very frightened all the time. 

 " Mr. (puff) Sponge, Mrs. (gasp) Jogglebury (wheeze) Crowdey," 

 continued he, motioning with his hand. 



Finding himself in the presence of his handsome hostess, Sponge 

 made her one of his best bows, and offered to resign his seat in the 

 carriage to her. This she declined, alleging that she had the 

 children with her — looking round on the grinning, gaping group, 

 the majority of them with their mouths smeared with lollipops. 

 Crowdey, who was not so stupid as he looked, was nettled at 

 Sponge's attempting to fix his wife upon him at such a critical 

 moment, and immediately retaliated with, " P'raps (puff) you'd 

 like to (puff) out and (wheeze) walk." 



There was no help for this, and Sponge having alighted, 

 Mr. Crowdey said, half to Mr. Sponge and half to his fine wife, 

 " Then (puff — wheeze) I'll just (puff) on and get Mr. (wheeze) 

 Sponge's room ready." So saying, he gave the old nag a hearty 

 jerk with the bit, and two or three longitudinal cuts with the 

 knotty-pointed whip, and jingled away with a bevy of children 

 shouting, hanging on, and dragging behind, amidst exclamations 

 from Mrs. Crowdey, of " Anna Maria ! Juliana Jane ! 



