361 



" Oh, yes (puff) — oh, yes (wheeze) — oh, yes (gasp) ! Know Char- 

 ley Eomford — Facey, as they call him. He's (puff, wheeze, gasp), 

 heir to old Mr. Gilroy, of Queercove Hill." 



" Just so," rejoined Sponge, — "just so ; that's the man, — stout, 

 square-built fellow, with backward-growing whiskers. I'm going to 

 stay with him to shoot at old Gil's. Where does Charley live ?" 



" Live ! " exclaimed Jog, almost choked with delight at the in- 

 formation ; " live ! live ! " repeated he, for the third time ; " lives at 

 (puff, wheeze, gasp, cough), Washingforde — yes, at Washingforde ; 

 'bout ten miles from (puff, wheeze) here. When d'ye go?" 



" To-morrow," replied Sponge, with an air of offended dignity. 



Jog was so rejoiced that he could hardly sit on his chair. 



Mrs. Jog, when she heard of it felt that Gustavus James's chance 

 of independence was gone ; for well she knew that Jog would never 

 let Sponge come back to the Bower. 



We need scarcely say that Jog was up betimes in the morning, 

 most anxious to forward Mr. Sponge's departure. He offered to al- 

 low Bartholomew to convey him and his " traps " in the phaeton — an 

 offer that Mr. Sponge availed himself of as far as his "traps " were 

 concerned, though he preferred cantering over on his piebald to trail- 

 ing along in Jog's jingling chay. So matters were arranged, and Mr. 

 Sponge forthwith proceeded to put his brown boots, his substantial 

 cords, his superfine tights, his cuttey scarlet, his dress blue saxony, 

 his clean linen, his heavy spurs, and though last, not least in import- 

 ance, his now backless " Mogg," into his solid leather portmanteau, 

 sweeping the surplus of his wardrobe into a capacious carpet-bag. 

 While the guest was thus busy up-stairs, the host wandered about 

 reslessly, now stirring up this person, now hurrying that, in the full 

 enjoyment of the much-coveted departure. His pleasure was, per- 

 haps, rather damped by a running commentary he overheard through 

 the lattice-window of the stable, from Leather, as he stripped his 

 horses and tried to roll up their clothing in a moderate compass. 



" Ord rot your great carcass ! " exclaimed he, giving the roll a 

 hearty kick in its bulging-out stomach, onjpding that he had not got 

 it as small as he wanted. " Ord rot your great carcass," repeated 

 he, scratching his head and eyeing it as it lay ; " this is all the conse- 

 quence of your nasty brewers' hapron weshins, — bio win' of one out, 

 like a bladder ! " and, thereupon, he placed his hand on his stomach 

 to feel how his own was. " Never see'd sich a house, or sich an awful 

 mean man ! " continued he, stooping and pommelling the package 

 with his fists. It was of no use, he could not get it as small as he 

 wished — " Must have my jacket out on you I do believe," added he, 

 seeing where the impediment was ; " sticks in your gizzard just like 

 a. lump of old Puff-and-blow's puddin' ; " and then he thrust his band 

 into the folds of the clothing, and pulled out the greasy garment. 

 " Now," said he, stooping agoin, " I think we may manish ye ; " and 

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