MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 359 



" Peastraw, p'raps ? " suggested Jog, colouring up, and staring 

 intently at Mr. Sponge. 



" Pea — Peastraw was the name," replied Mr. Sponge. 



" I know him," said Jog ; " Peastraw of Stoke." 



" Ah, he said he knew you," replied Mr. Sponge. 



" Did he ? " asked Jog, eagerly. " What did he say ? " 



" Say — let me see what he said," replied he, pretending to 

 recollect. " He said ' you are a deuced good feller,' and I'd to 

 make his compliments to you, and to say that there were some nice 

 young ash saplings on his farm that you were welcome to cut." 



" Did he ? " exclaimed Jog ; " I'm sure that's very (puff) polite 

 of him. I'll (wheeze) over there the first opportunity." 



" And what did you make of Sir Harry ? " asked Mrs. Jog. 



" Did you (puff) say you were going to (wheeze) over to him ? " 

 asked Jog, eagerly. 



" I told him I'd go to him before I left the country," replied 

 Mr. Sponge, carelessly ; adding, " Sir Harry is rather too fast a 

 man for me." 



" Too fast for himself, I should think," observed Mrs. Jog. 



" Fine (puff — wheeze) young man," growled Jog into the bottom 

 of his cup. 



" Have you known him long ? " asked Mrs. Jogglebury. 



" Oh, we fox-hunters all know each other," replied Mr. Sponge, 

 evasively. 



"Well, now that's what I tell Mr. Jogglebury," exclaimed she. 

 " Mr. Jog's so shy, that there's no getting him to do what he 

 ought," added the lady. "No one, to hear him, would think he's 

 the great man he is." 



" Ought (puff) — ought (wheeze)," retorted Jog, puffing furiously 

 into his capacious shirt-frill. " It's one (puff) thing to know (puff) 

 people out with the (wheeze) hounds, and another to go calling 

 them at their (gasp) houses." 



" Well, but, my dear, that's the way people make acquaintance," 

 replied his wife. " Isn't it, Mr. Sponge ? " continued she, appealing 

 to our friend. 



Oh, certainly," replied Mr. Sponge, " certainly ; all men are 

 " out hunting." 



So I say," exclaimed Mrs. Jogglebury ; " and yet I can't get 

 Jog to call on Sir George Stiff, though he meets him frequently out 

 hunting." 



" Well, but then I can't (puff) upon him out hunting (wheeze), 

 and then we're not all equal (gasp) when we go home." 



So saying, our friend rose from his chair, and after giving each 

 leg its usual shake, and banging his pockets behind to feel that he 

 had his keys safe, he strutted consequentially up to the window to 

 see how the day looked. 



