mr. sponge's sporting tour. 285 



CHAPTER XLVI. 



PUDDINGPOTE BOWER, THE SEAT OF JOGGLEBURY CROWDEY, ESQ. 



" Your good husband," observed Mr. Sponge as lie now overtook his 

 hostess and proceeded "with her towards the house, " has insisted upon 

 bringing me over to spend a few days till my friend Puffington re- 

 covers. He's just got the gout. I said I was 'fraid it mightn't be 

 quite convenient to you, but Mr. Crowdey assured me you were in 

 the habit of receivin' fox-hunters at short notice ; and so I have taken 

 him at his word you see, and come." • 



Mrs. Jogglebury, who was still out of wind from her run after 

 the carriage, assured him that she was extremely happy to see him, 

 though she couldn't help thinking what a noodle Jog was to bring a 

 stranger on a washing-day. That, however, was a point she would 

 reserve for Jog. 



Just then a loud outburst from the children announced the ap- 

 proach of the eighth wonder of the world, in the person of Gustavus 

 James in the nurse's arms, with a curly blue feather nodding over 

 his nose. Mrs. Jogglebury's black eyes brightened with delight as 

 she ran forward to meet him ; and in her mind's eye she saw him in- 

 heriting a splendid mansion, with a retinue of powdered footmen in 

 pea-green liveries and broad gold laced hats. Great — prospectively 

 great, at least — as had been her successes in the sponsor line with 

 her other children, she really thought, getting Mr. Sponge for a god- 



papa for Gustavus James eclipsed all her other doings. 



Mr. Sponge having been liberal in his admiration of the other 

 children, of course could not refuse unbounded applause to the evi- 

 dent object of a mother's regards ; and, chucking the young gentle- 

 man under his double chin, asked him how he was, and said something 

 about something he had in his " box," alluding to a paper of cheap 

 comfits he had bought at Sngarchalk's, the confectioner's sale in 

 Oxford-street, and which he carried about for contingencies like the 

 present. This pleased Mrs. Crowdey — looking, as she thought, as if 

 he had come predetermined to do what she wanted. Amidst praises 

 and stories of the prodigy, they reached the house. 



If a " hall " means a house with an entrance-" hall," Puddingpote 

 Bower did not aspire to be one. A visitor dived, in medias res } 

 into the passage at once. In it stood an oak-cased family clock, and 

 a large glass-case, with an alarming-looking stuffed tiger-like cat, on 

 an imitation marble slab. Underneath the slab, indeed all about the 

 passage were scattered children's hats and caps, hoops, tops, spades, 



