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sisting principally of apples, followed. The wine having made a 

 couple of melancholy circuits, the strained conversation about came 

 to a full stop, and Spigot having considerately placed the little round 

 table, as if to keep the peace between them, the ladies left the male 

 worthies to discuss their port and sherry together. Jack, according 

 to Woodmansterne fashion, unbuttoned his waistcoat, and stuck his 

 leo-s out before him, — an example that Mr. Sponge quickly followed, 

 and each assumed an attitude that as good as said, " I don't care two- 

 pence for you." A dead silence then prevailed, interrupted only by 

 the snap, snap, snapping of Jack's toothpick against his chair-edge, 

 when he was not busy exploring his mouth with it. It seemed to be 

 a match which should keep silence longest. Jack sat squinting 

 his eyes inside out at Sponge, while Sponge pretended to be occupied 

 with the fire. The wine being with Sponge, and at length wanting 

 some, he was constrained to make the first move, by passing it over 

 to Jack, who helped himself to port and sherry simultaneously — a 

 glass of sherry after dinner (in Jack's opinion) denoting a gentleman. 

 Having smacked his lips over that, he presently turned to the glass 

 of port. He checked his hand in passing it to his mouth, and bore 

 the glass up to his nose. 



" Corked, by Jove ! " exclaimed he, setting the glass down on the 

 table with a thump of disgust. 



It is curious what unexpected turns things sometimes take in the 

 world, and how completely whole trains of well-preconcerted plans 

 are often turned aside by mere accidents such as this. If it hadn't 

 been for the corked bottle of port, there is no saying but these two 

 worthies would have held a Quaker's meeting without the " spirit " 

 moving either of them. 



" Corked, by Jove ! " exclaimed Jack. 



" It is ! " rejoined Sponge smelling at his half-emptied glass. 



" Better have another bottle," observed Jack. 



" Certainly," replied Sponge, ringing the bell. " Spigot, this 

 wine's corked," observed Sponge, as old Pomposa entered the room. 



" Is it ? " said Spigot, with the most perfect innocence, though he 

 knew it came out of the corked batch. " I'll bring another bottle," 

 added he, carrying it off as if he had a whole pipe at command, though 

 in reality he had but another out. This fortunately was less corked 

 than the first ; and Jack having given an approving smack of his great 

 thick lips, Mr. Sponge took it on his judgment, and gave a nod to 

 Spigot, who forthwith took his departure. 



" Old trick that," observed Jack, with a shake of the head, as 

 Spigot shut the door. 



" Is it ? " observed Mr. Sponge, taking up the observation, though 

 in reality it was addressed to the fire. 



" Noted for it" replied Jack, squinting at the sideboard, though 

 he was staring intently at Sponge to see how he took it. 



