MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TO UP 



203 



mamma's assurance that he would not do for either of them, 

 resigned herself complacently to what she could not help. 



Mr. Sponge, on his part, saw that all things portended a close. 

 He cared nothing about the old willow-pattern set usurping the 

 place of the Jawley turd-armed china ; but the contents of the 



MR. SPONGE DEMANDING AN EXPLANATION. 



dishes were bad, and the wine, if possible, worse. Most palpable 

 Marsala did duty for sherry, and the corked port was again in 

 requisition. Jawleyford was no longer the brisk, cheery-hearted 

 Jawleyford of Laverick Wells, but a crusty, fidgetty, fire-stirring 

 sort of fellow, desperately given to his Morning Post 



_ Worst of all, when Mr. Sponge retired to his den to smoke a 

 cigar and study his dear cab fares, he was so suffocated with 



