288 mr. sponge's sporting tour. 



his nose gave little hopes of returning animation, Mr. Sponge had 

 recourse to his old friend " Mogg," and amidst speculations as to 

 time and distances, managed to finish the port. We will now pass to 

 the next morning. 



Whatever deficiency there might be at dinner was amply atoned 

 for at breakfast, which was both good and abundant; bread and cake 

 of all sorts, eggs, muffins, toast, honey, jellies, and preserves without 

 end. On the side-table was a dish of hot kidneys and a magnificent 

 red home-fed ham. 



But a greater treat far, as Mrs. Jogglebury thought, was in the 

 guests set around. There were arranged all her tulips in succession, 

 -beginning with that greatest of all wonders, Gustavus James, and 

 running on with Anna Maria, Frederick John, Juliana Jane, Mar- 

 garet Henrietta, Sarah Amelia, down to Peter William, the heir, 

 who sat next his pa. These formed a close line on the side of the 

 table opposite the fire, that side being left for Mr. Sponge. All the 

 children had clean pinafores on, and their hairs plastered according 

 to nursery regulation. Mr. Sponge's appearance was a signal for 

 silence, and they all sat staring at him in mute astonishment. 



Baby, Gustavus James, did more ; for, after reconnoitring him 

 through a sort of lattice window formed of his fingers, he whined 

 out, " Who's that ogl-e-y man, ma ? " amidst the titter of the rest 

 of the line. 



" Hush! my dear," exclaimed Mrs. Crowdey, hoping Mr. Sponge 

 hadn't heard. But Gustavus James was not to be put down, and he 

 renewed the charge as his mamma began pouring out the tea. 



" Send that ogl-e-y man away, ma ! " whined he, in a louder tone, 

 at which all the children burst out a laughing. 



" Baby (puff), Gustavus ! (wheeze,)" exclaimed Jog, knocking 

 with the handle of his knife against the table, and frowning at the 

 prodigy. 



'• Well, pa, he is a ogl-c-y man," replied the child, amid the ill- 

 suppressed laughter of the rest. 



" Ah, but what have / got ! " exclaimed Mr. Sponge, producing 

 a gaudily done-up paper of comfits from his pocket, opening and dis- 

 tributing the unwholesome contents along the line, stopping the 

 orator's mouth first with a great, red-daubed, almond comfit. 



Breakfast was then proceeded with without further difficulty. 

 As it drew to a close, and Mr. Sponge began nibbling at the sweets 

 instead of continuing his attack on the solids, Mrs. Jogglebury began 

 eyeing and telegraphing her husband. 



" Jog, my dear," said she, looking significantly at him, and then 

 at the egg-stand, whioh still contained three eggs. 



" Well, my dear," replied Jog, with a vacant stare, pretending 

 not to understand. 



" You'd better eat them," saipl she, looking again at the eggs. 



