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'I know you will, replied Facey coolly, putting himself in boxing attitude, exclaiming, as he measured out a distance, 'just feel the biceps muscle of my arm do believe I could fell an ox. However, never mind, continued he, seeing Sponge declined the feel. 'Life's uncertain: so you give me an "I.O.U." and we'll be all right and square.
'Indeed, replied Sponge, now passing on into Mogg's Cab Fares 'Aldersgate Street, Hare Court, to or from Bagnigge Wells, and so on, when Facey struck up the most squeaking, discordant, broken-winded 'Jump Jim Crow' that ever was heard, making the sensitive Sponge shudder, and setting all his teeth on edge.
When, however, Facey found how matters stood, he determined to stop Sponge's things, which Leather resisted; and, Facey showing fight, Leather butted him with his head, sending him backwards downstairs and putting his shoulder out. Leather than marched off with the kit, amid the honours of war.
'I'd rather do anything than undergo that horrid noise, replied Sponge, ringing his left ear with his forefinger. 'Let's have a game at cards, then, rejoined Facey soothingly, seeing he had sufficiently agonized Sponge. 'Cards, replied Mr. Sponge. 'Cards, repeated he thoughtfully, stroking his hairy chin.
Short reckonin's make long friends, you know, added he, pointing peremptorily to the paper. 'I'd better give you a cheque at once, retorted Sponge, looking the very essence of chivalry. 'Money, if you please, replied Facey; muttering, with a jerk of his head, 'don't like paper. The renowned Sponge, for once, was posed. He had the money, but he didn't like to part with it.
'Now, continued Facey, poking into the table-drawer and producing a dirty scrap of paper, with a little pocket ink-case, 'if you'll give me an "I.O.U.," we'll shut up shop. 'An "I.O.U.!" retorted Sponge, looking virtuously indignant. 'An "I.O.U.!" I'll give you your money i' the mornin'.
Sponge, in the joy of his heart, actually gave the lad a shilling! He now felt like a new man. He didn't care a rap for Facey, and, ordering Leather to give him the hack and follow with the hunters, he presently cantered out of town as sprucely as if all was on the square.
Sponge's attentions to the children generally, and to Gustavus James in particular, coupled with his free-and-easy mode of introducing himself, made Mrs. Crowdey feel far more at her ease with regard to entertaining him than she would have done if her neighbour, Mr. Makepeace, or the Rev. Mr. Facey himself, had dropped in to take 'pot luck, as they called it.
Now, 'me Oncle Gilroy, of whom Facey was constantly talking, had a left-handed wife and promising family in the sylvan retirement of St. John's Wood, whither he used to retire after his business in 'Smi'fiel'' was over; so that Facey, for once, was out in his calculations.
'W-h-o-y, ar thought you'd been a fox-hunter, observed Facey, seeing his guest's disconcerted look. 'Well, but bein' a fox-hunter won't enable one to sleep in a band-box, or to shut one's-self up like a telescope, retorted the indignant Sponge. ''Ord hang it, man! you're so nasty partickler, rejoined Facey; 'you're so nasty partickler. You'll never do to go out duck-shootin' i' your shirt.
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