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Sponge was persuasive enough to induce him to accompany him, and it was finally arranged that Leather should go on with the horses, and Jog should drive Sponge to cover in the phe-a-ton. Mrs. Jogglebury Crowdey was a good deal disconcerted at Gustavus James's irreverence to his intended god-papa, and did her best, both by promises and entreaties, to bring him to a more becoming state of mind.
Never mind me. I hate being made company of. Just treat me like one of yourselves; toad-in-the-hole, dog-in-the-blanket, beef-steaks and oyster-sauce, rabbits and onions anything; nothing comes amiss to me. So saying, and while Jogglebury sat purple and unable to articulate, Mr. Sponge applied his hand to the ivory bell-knob and sounded an imposing peal. Mr.
'Now, "Obin and Ichard," my darling, continued she, addressing herself coaxingly to Gustavus James. 'No, not "Obin and Ichard," replied the child peevishly. 'Yes, my darling, do, that's a treasure. 'Oh dear. Jog, you and your tea! you're always wanting tea, replied Mrs. Jogglebury snappishly. 'Well, but it'll not take you long to get there, replied Mrs. Jogglebury; 'will it, Mr.
Jogglebury Crowdey, staring about with anything but the quickness that marked his movements when he dived into Hackberry Dean. 'Don't you see, asked Sponge tartly, 'there's a road by the corn-stacks yonder? Pointing them out. 'I see, replied Jogglebury, blowing freely into his shirt-frill. 'Never mind, let's try! exclaimed Mr.
'Well, my dear, I've no objection, replied Joggle, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye with his coat-cuff. 'That's a good soul! exclaimed Mrs. Jogglebury soothingly. 'Go to-morrow, like a nice, sensible man. 'Very well, replied her now complacent spouse. 'And ask him to come here, continued she.
But such children as ours! such charmers! such delights! there isn't a man in the county, from the Lord-Lieutenant downwards, who wouldn't be proud who wouldn't think it a compliment to be asked to be god-papa to such children. I tell you what, Mr. Jogglebury Crowdey, it would be far better to get them rich god-papas and god-mammas than to leave them a whole house full of sticks.
Sponge found his portmanteau standing bolt upright in the passage, with the bag alongside of it, just as they had been chucked out of the phaeton by Bartholomew Badger, who, having got orders to put the horse right, and then to put himself right to wait at dinner, Mr. Jogglebury proceeded to vociferate: 'Murry Ann!
As they routed them out of hole and corner, Jogglebury kept up a sort of running recommendation to mercy, mingled with an inquiry into the state of the household affairs. 'Three, sir, replied Mary Ann. 'Three! repeated he, with an emphasis. Ah! here he is, added Mr. Jogglebury, as Mr. Sponge's voice rose now from the passage into the room above. Things now looked pretty promising. Mr.
'Leather, I'm going to this gentleman's, and I want you to bring me a horse over in the morning; or stay, said he, interrupting himself, and, turning to Jogglebury, he exclaimed, 'I dare say you could manage to put me up a couple of horses, couldn't you? and then we should be all cosy and jolly together, you know.
Just then up waddled Jogglebury, puffing and wheezing like a stranded grampus; the idea having just struck him that he might get off on the plea of not having room for the servant. 'Ah, you are a good fellow, replied Mr. Sponge 'a devilish good fellow. I was just telling Mrs. Jogglebury wasn't I, Mrs.
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