82 mr. sponge's sporting tour. 



plume, old Jawleyford (father of the present one) in the Windsor 

 uniform, and our friend himself, the very prototype of what then 

 stood before them. Indeed, he had been painted in the act of ad- 

 dressing his hereditary ehawbacons in the hall in which the picture 

 was suspended. There he stood, with his bright auburn hair (now 

 rather badger-pied, perhaps, but 'still very passable by candle-light) 

 — his bright auburn hair, we say, swept boldly off his lofty forehead, 

 his hazy grey eyes flashing with the excitement of drink and animation, 

 his left hand reposing on the hip of his well-fitting black pantaloons, 

 while the right one, radiant with rings, and trimmed with upturned 

 wristband, sawed the air, as he rounded off the periods of the well- 

 accustomed saws. 



Jawleyford, like a good many people, was very hospitable when 

 in full fig — two soups, two fishes, and the necessary concomitants ; 

 but he would see any one far enough before he would give him a 

 dinner merely because he wanted one. That sort of ostentatious 

 banqueting has about brought country society in general to a dead 

 lock. People tire of the constant revision of plate, linen, and china. 



Mrs. Jawleyford, on the other hand, was a very rough-and-ready 

 sort of woman, never put out of her way; and though she constantly 

 preached the old doctrine that girls " are much better single than 

 married," she was always on the look-out for opportunities of contra- 

 dicting her assertions. 



She was an Irish lady, with a pedigree almost as long as Jawley- 

 ford's, but more compressible pride, and if she couldn't get a duke, 

 she would take a marquis or an earl, or even put up with a rich com- 

 moner. 



The perusal, therefore, of Sponge's letter, operated differently 

 upon her to what it did upon her husband, and though she would 

 have liked a little more time, perhaps, she did not care to taks him 

 as they were. Jawleyford, however, resisted violently. It would be 

 most particularly inconvenient to him to receive company at that 

 time. If Mr. Sponge had gone through the whole three hundred 

 and sixty-five days in the year, he could not have hit upon a more 

 inconvenient one for him. Besides, he had no idea ' of people writ- 

 ing in that sort of a way, saying they were coming, without giving 

 him the chance of saying no. 



" Well, but my dear, I daresay you asked him," observed Mrs. 

 Jawleyford. 



Jawleyford was silent, the scene in the billiard-room recurring to 

 his mind. 



" I've often told you, my dear," continued Mrs. Jawleyford, 

 kindly, " that you shouldn't be so free with your invitations if you 

 don't want people to come ; things are very different now to what 

 they were in the old coaching and posting days, when it took a day 

 and a night, and half the next day to get here, and I don't know 



