mr. sponge's SPORTING TOUR. 275 



Jogglebury," * that being our friend's name before his uncle Crowdey 

 left him his property. 



Mrs. Jogglebury having an object in view, and knowing that, 

 though Jogglebury might lead, he would not drive, availed herself 

 of the lull to trim her sail, to try and catch him on the other tack. 



" Well, Mr. Jogglebury Crowdey," said she, in a passive tone of 

 regret, " I certainly thought, however indifferent you might be to 

 me " (and here she applied her handkerchief — rather a coarse one — 

 to her eyes), " that still you had some regard for the interests of your 

 (sob) children ; " and here the waterfalls of her beady black eyes went 

 off in a gush. 



"Well, my dear," replied Jogglebury, softened, " I'm (puff) sure 

 I'm (wheeze) anxious for my (puff) children. You don't 'spose if I 

 wasn't (puff), I'd (wheeze) labour as I (puff — wheeze) do to leave 

 them fortius ? " — alluding to his exertions in the gibbey-stick line. 



" Oh, Jog, I dare say you're very good, and very industrious," 

 sobbed Mrs. Jogglebury, " but I sometimes (sob) think that you 

 might apply your (sob) energies to a better (sob) purpose." 



"Indeed, my dear (puff), I don't see that (wheeze)," replied Jog- 

 glebury, mildly. 



" Why, now, if you were to try and get this rich Mr. Sponge 

 for a god-papa for G-ustavus James," continued she, drying her 

 eyes as she came to the point, " that, I should say, would be worthy 

 of you." 



" But, my (puff) dear," replied Jogglebury, " I don't know Mr. 

 (wheeze) Sponge to begin with." 



" That's nothing," replied Mrs. Jogglebury ; " he's a stranger, 

 and you should call upon him." 



Mr. Jogglebury sat silent, still staring at Lord Brougham, 

 thinking how he pitched into him, and how sick he was when the 

 jury, without retiring from the box, gave five hundred pounds dam- 

 ages against him. 



" He's a fox-hunter, too," continued his wife ; " and you ought 

 to be civil to him." 



" Well, but, my (puff) dear, he's as likely to (wheeze) live these 

 fifty years as any (puff, wheeze) man I ever looked at," replied Jog- 

 glebury. 



" Oh, nonsense," replied Mrs. Jogglebury ; " there's no saying 

 when a fox-hunter may break his neck. My word ! but Mrs. Sloo- 

 man tells me pretty stories of Sloo's doings with the harriers — jump- 

 ing over hurdles, and everything that comes in the way, and gallop- 

 ing along the stony lanes as if the wind was a snail compared to 

 his horse. I tell you, Jog, you should call on this gentleman " 



" Well," replied Mr. Jogglebury. 



' Ftde " Barnwell and Alderson's Reports." 



