294 



MB. SPONGE'S SPOUTING TOUE. 



CHAPTER XLII. 



THE DISCOMFITED DIPLOMATIST. 



JOGGLKBl'RY 



Well, then, as we said before, when one door shuts another 

 opens ; and just as Mr. Puffington's door was closing on poor Mr. 

 Sponge, who should cast up but our newly-introduced friend, Mr. 

 Jogglebury Crowdey. Mr. Sponge was sitting in solitary state, in 

 the fine drawing-room, studying his old friend Mogg, calculating 

 what he could ride from Spur-street, Leicester-square, by Short's- 

 gardens, and across Waterloo-bridge, to the Elephant and Castle 

 for, when the grinding of a vehicle on the gravelled ring attracted 

 his attention. Looking out of the window, he saw a horse's 

 head in a faded-red silk-fronted bridle, with the letters " J. C." on 

 the winkers ; not J. C. writhing in the elegant contortions of 

 modern science, but " J. C." in the good, plain, matter-of-fact 

 characters we have depicted above. 



" That'll be the doctor," said Mr. Sponge to himself, as he 

 resumed his reading and calculations, amidst a peal of the door- 



