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Updated: June 16, 2025
Thus attired, with Mogg in his pocket, he swaggered down to the breakfast-room, which he hit off by means of listening at the doors till he heard the sound of voices within. Mrs. Jawleyford and the young ladies were all smiles and smirks, and there were no symptoms of Miss Jawleyford's hauteur perceptible. They all came forward and shook hands with our friend most cordially. Mr.
Indeed, a thing had only to be Jawleyford's, to make Jawleyford excessively fond of it. 'There! exclaimed he, as they reached the third step from the bottom. 'There! repeated he, seizing Sponge by the arm, 'that's what I call shape.
He then began speculating on what sort of a man his lordship was, and the probable nature of his reception. He began to wish that Jawleyford had accompanied him, to introduce him. Not that Sponge was shy, but still he thought that Jawleyford's presence would do him good. Lord Scamperdale's hunt was not the most polished in the world.
You don't see such an animal as that every day, pointing to a not badly formed, but evidently worn-out, over-knee'd bay, that stood knuckling and trembling for Jawleyford to mount. 'One of the "has beens," I should say, replied Sponge, puffing a cloud of smoke right past Jawleyford's nose; adding, 'It's a pity but you could get him four new legs.
He had a tremendously stiff stock on so hard that no pressure made it wrinkle, and so high that his pointed gills could hardly peer above it. His coat was a bright green cut-away made when collars were worn very high and very hollow, and when waists were supposed to be about the middle of a man's back, Jawleyford's back buttons occupying that remarkable position.
'Deuced fine girls, said he, 'both of 'em: wonder what he'll give 'em down? recurring to his over-night speculations, and hitting upon the point at which he had burnt his lips with the end of the cigar namely, Jawleyford's youth, and the possibility of his marrying again if Mrs. Jawleyford were to die.
So much for the 'small deer. We will now devote a concluding chapter to the 'great guns' of our story. Our noble master's nerves were so dreadfully shattered by the lamentable catastrophe to poor Jack, that he stepped, or rather was pushed, into Jawleyford's carriage almost insensibly, and driven from the course to Jawleyford Court. There he remained sufficiently long for Mrs.
What between rows and reconciliations, Jawleyford was always at work. Notwithstanding Jawleyford's recommendation to the contrary, Mr. Sponge made himself an uncommon swell.
Sponge tackled vigorously with the new-comer, which was better than the first; and Robert Foozle, drinking as he spoke, by pattern, kept filling away, much to Jawleyford's dissatisfaction, who was compelled to order a third. During the progress of its demolition, the host's tongue became considerably loosened.
Sponge, like all men who are 'extremely natty' themselves, men who wouldn't have a button out of place if it was ever so, hardly knew what to think of Jawleyford's costume. It was clear he was no sportsman; and then came the question, whether he was of the privileged few who may do what they like, and who can carry off any kind of absurdity.
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