294 mr. sponge's sporting tour. 



" Oh ! ' saddle my hog,' was it ? " replied Mr. Sponge, with ap- 

 parent surprise ; " I thought it was ' saddle my dog.' I'll trouble 

 you for the sugar, Mrs. Jogglebury ; " adding, " you have devilish 

 good cream here ; how many cows have you ? " 



" Cows (puff), cows (wheeze) ? " replied Jogglebury; " how many 

 cows ? " repeated he. 



" Oh, two," replied Mrs. Jogglebury, tartly, vexed at the inter- 

 ruption. 



" Pardon me (puff)," replied Jogglebury, slowly and solemnly, 

 with a full blow into his frill ; " pardon me, Mrs. (puff) Jogglebury 

 (wheeze) Crowdey, but there are three (wheeze)." 



Not in milk, Jog — not in milk" retorted Mrs. Crowdey. 



" Three cows, Mrs. (puff) Jogglebury (wheeze) Crowdey, notwith- 

 standing," rejoined our host. 



" Well ; but when people talk of cream, and ask how many cows 

 you have, they mean in milk, Mister Jogglebury Crowdey." 



" Not necessarily, Mistress Jogglebury Crowdey," replied the 

 pertinacious Jog, with another heavy snort. 



" Ah, now you're coming your fine poor law guardian knowledge," 

 rejoined his wife. Jog was chairman of the Stir-it-stiff Union. 



While this was going on, young hopeful was sitting cocked up in 

 his high chair, evidently mortified at the want of attention. 



Mrs. Crowdey saw how things were going, and, turning from the 

 cow question, endeavoured to re-engage him in his recitations. 



" Now, my angel ! " exclaimed she, again showing him the sugar ; 

 " tell us about ' Obin and Icharcl.'" 



" No — not ' Obin and Ichard,' " pouted the child. 



" yes, my sweet, doj that's a good child; the gentleman in the 

 pretty coat, who gives baby the nice things, wants to hear it." 



" Come, out with it, young man ! " exclaimed Mr. Sponge, now 

 putting a large piece of cold beef into his mouth. 



" Not a 'ung man," muttered the child, bursting out a-crying, and 

 extending his little fat arms to his mamma. 



" No, my angel, not a 'ung man yet," replied Mrs. Jogglebury, 

 taking him out of the chair, and hugging him to her bosom. 



" He'll be a man before his mother for all that," observed Mr. 

 Sponge, nothing disconcerted by the noise. 



Jog had now finished his breakfast, and having pocketed three 

 buns and two pieces of toast, with a thick layer of cold ham between 

 them, looked at his great warming-pan of a watch, and said to his 

 gue3t, "When you're (wheeze), I'm (puff)." So saying, he got up, 

 and gave his great legs one or two convulsive shakes, as if to see that 

 they were on. 



Mrs. Jogglebury looked reproachfully at him, as much as to say, 

 " How can you behave so ? " 



Mr. Sponge, as he eyed Jog's ill-made, queerly put on garments, 



