MB. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 299 



" Well," replied Mr. Leather, in a tone of resignation, knowing 

 how hopeless it was arguing with his master. 



" I really think," gasped Mr. Jogglebury Crowdey, encouraged 

 by the apparent sympathy of the servant to make a last effort — " I 

 really think," repeated he, as the hashed mutton and haddocks 

 again flashed across his mind, " that my (puff — wheeze) plan is 

 the (puff) best ; let me (puff — wheeze) home and see how all (puff 

 — wheeze) things are, and then I'll write you a (puff— wheeze) 

 line, or send a (puff— wheeze) servant over." 



" Oh, no," replied Mr. Sponge — " oh, no — that's far too much 

 .trouble. I'll just go over with you now and reconnoitre." 



" I'm afraid Mrs. (puff — wheeze) Crowdey will hardly be 

 prepared for (puff — wheeze) visitors," ejaculated our friend, 

 recollecting it was washing-day, and that Mary AnD would be 

 wanted in the laundry. 



" Don't mention it ! " exclaimed Mr. Spouge ; " don't mention 

 it. I hate to be made company of. Just give me what you have 

 yourselves — just give me what you have yourselves. Where two 

 can dine, three can dine, you know." 



Mr. Jogglebury Crowdey was nonplussed. 



" Well, now," said Mr. Sponge, turning again to Leather ; 

 " just go up-stairs and help me to pack up my things ; and," 

 addressing himself to our visitor he said, " perhaps you'll amuse 

 yourself with the paper — the Post — or I'll lend you my Mogg," 

 continued he, offering the little gilt-lettered, purple-backed volume 

 as he spoke. 



''Thank'ee," replied Mr. Jogglebury, who was still tapping 

 away at the card, which he had now worked very soft. 



Mr. Sponge then left him with the volume in his hand, and 

 proceeded up-stairs to his bed-room. 



In less than twenty minutes, the vehicle was got under way, 

 Mr. Jogglebury Crowdey and Mr. Sponge occupying the roomy 

 seats in front, and Bartholomew Badger, the before-mentioned 

 tiger, and Mr. Sponge's portmanteau and carpet-bag, being in the 

 very diminutive turnover seat behind. The carriage was followed 

 by the straining eyes of sundry Johns and Janes, who unanimously 

 agreed that Mr. Sponge was the meanest, shabbiest gent, they had 

 ever had in their house. Mr. Leather was, therefore, roasted in 

 the servants' hall, where the sins of the masters are oft visited 

 upon the servants. 



But to our travellers. 



Little conversation passed between our friends for the first few 

 miles, for, in addition to the road being rough, the driving-seat 

 was so high, and the other so low, that Mr. Jogglebury Crowdey's 

 parables broke against Mr. Sponge's hat-crown, instead of dropping 

 into his ear ; besides which, the unwilling host's mind was a good 



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