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Updated: June 9, 2025
Sponge as it was; but that arose as much from certain dark hints that had worked their way from the servants' hall into 'my lady's chamber' as to our friend's pecuniary resources and prospects. Jawleyford began to suspect that Sponge might not be quite the great 'catch' he was represented. Beyond, however, putting a few searching questions which Mr.
'Rather brusque in his manner, perhaps, observed Jawleyford, who was quite the 'lady' himself. 'I wonder what he was? added he, fingering away at his whiskers. 'He's rich, I've no doubt, replied Mrs. Jawleyford. 'What makes you think so? asked her loving spouse. 'I don't know, replied Mrs. Jawleyford; 'somehow I feel certain he is but I can't tell why all fox-hunters are.
'Oh, that Jack Spraggon, replied Jawleyford, curling up his nose, as if he was going to be sick; 'one of the most odious wretches under the sun. I really don't know any man that I have so great a dislike to, so utter a contempt for, as that Jack, as they call him. 'What is he? asked Sponge.
'Well, then, said Jawleyford, with a hearty yawn, 'I suppose we may as well go to bed. So saying, he took his candle and retired. When the dirty slip-shod housemaid came in the morning with her blacksmith's-looking tool-box to light Mr. Sponge's fire, a riotous winter's day was in the full swing of its gloomy, deluging power.
'That's Master Blossomnose, observed Jawleyford, scarcely able to contain his indignation. 'That's Master Blossomnose, repeated he, taking a back hand at the port in the excitement of the moment.
'If I'd only had the silver specs, thought he, 'I should have done. He then began to dress; an operation that, ever and anon was interrupted by the outburst of volleys of smoke from the little spluttering, smouldering fire in the little shabby room Jawleyford insisted on having him put into.
Impossible to say! replied Jawleyford, throwing up his hands with a shake, and shrugging his shoulders. 'I have such a stock of wine as is really quite ridiculous. 'Quite ridiculous, thought Spigot, who, by the aid of a false key, had been through the cellar. Except the 'Shell and Tortoise' and 'Wintle, the estate supplied the repast.
If a man was fond of fishing, he must come to Jawleyford Court, he must, indeed; he would take no refusal, he wouldn't leave him alone till he promised. He would show him such fishing no waters in the world to compare with his. The Shannon and the Tweed were not to be spoken of in the same day as his waters in the Swiftley. Shooting, the same way. 'By Jove! are you a shooter?
'He was said to have an immense fortune I forget how much at Laverick Wells, observed Mrs. Jawleyford. 'Well, we'll see, said Jawleyford, adding, 'I suppose either of the girls will be glad enough to take him? 'Trust them for that, replied Mrs. Jawleyford, with a knowing smile and nod of the head: 'trust them for that, repeated she.
You asked him here, not ME, exclaimed Jawleyford, stamping furiously. 'No, my dear, replied Mrs. Jawleyford mildly; 'he asked himself, you know; but I thought, perhaps, you might have said something that 'ME say anything! interrupted Jawleyford.
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