MR. sponge's sporting tour. 293 



But, unfortunately, Mr. Sponge was busy with his breakfast, and 

 the prodigy wasted his sweetness on the desert air. 



Mrs. Jogglebury, who had sat listening in ecstacies, saw the 

 offended eye and pouting lip of the boy, and attempted to make up 

 with exclamations of " That is a clever fellow ! That is a wonder !" 

 at the same time showing him the sugar. 



" A little more (puff) tea, my (wheeze) dear," said Jogglebury, 

 thrusting his great cup up the table. 



" Hush! Jog, hush! " exclaimed Mrs. Crowdey, holding up her 

 forefinger, and looking significantly first at him, and then at the 

 urchin. 



" Now, ' Obin and Ichard,' my darling," continued she, address- 

 ing herself coaxingly to Gustavus James. 



" No, not ' Obin and Ichard,' " replied the child, peevishly. 



" Yes, my darling, do, that's a treasure." 



" Well, my (puff) darling, give me some (wheeze) tea," interposed 

 Jogglebury, knocking with his knuckles on the table. 



" Oh dear, Jog, you and "your tea ! — you're always wanting tea," 

 replied Mrs. Jogglebury, snappishly. 



" "Well, but my (puff) dear, you forget that Mr. (wheeze) Sponge 

 and I have to be at (puff) Snobston Green at a (wheeze) quarter to 

 eleven, and it's good twelve (gasp) miles off." 



" Well, but it'll not take you long to get there," replied Mrs. 

 Jogglebury ; " will it, Mr. Sponge ? " continued she, again appealing 

 to our friend. 



•• Sure I don't know," replied Sponge, eating away ; " Mr. Crow- 

 dey finds conveyance — I only find company." 



Mrs. Jogglebury Crowdey then prepared to pour her husband out 

 another cup of tea, and the musical snuff-box, being now left to itself, 

 wenfc off of its own accord with, — 



" Diddle, diddle, doubt, 

 My candle's out, 

 My 'ittle dame's not at 'ome — 

 So saddle my hog, and bridle my dog, 

 And bring my 'ittle dame 'ome." 



A poem that in the original programme was intended to come in 

 after " Obin and Ichard," which was to be the chef-d'oeuvre. 



Mrs. J og was delighted, and found herself pouring the tea into 

 the sugar-basin instead of into Jog's cup. 



Mr. Sponge, too, applauded. "Well, that ivas very clever," said 

 he, filling his" mouth with cold ham. " ' Saddle my dog, and bridle 

 my hog '—I'll trouble you for another cup of tea," addressing Mrs. 

 Crowdey. 



" No, not ' saddle my dog,' sil-l-e-y man ! " drawled the child, 

 making a pet lip ; " l saddle my hog.' " 



