Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 23, 2025
Puffington when he's poorly, observed Mr. Sponge, half to himself and half to the butler. 'Oh, master that's to say, Mr. Puffington always does best when left alone, observed Mr. Plummey, catching at the sentence: 'indeed the medical men recommend perfect quiet and moderate living as the best thing. 'Do they? replied Sponge, taking out another cigar. Mr.
'Are they all gone? asked Mr. Puffington, dropping his boiled-gooseberry-looking eyes upon the fine-flowered carpet. 'All gone, sir all gone, replied Mr. Plummey; 'all except Mr. Sponge. 'Oh, he's still here! replied Mr. Puffington, shuddering with disgust at the recollection of the newspaper run. 'Is he going to-day? asked he. 'No, sir I dare say not, sir, replied Mr. Plummey.
Plummey, 'in course not, adding, 'I'll do my best, sir I'll do my best. So saying, he took up the breakfast things and departed. Mr. Sponge regaling himself with a cigar in the stables and shrubberies, it was some time before Mr. Plummey had an opportunity of trying his diplomacy upon him, it being contrary to Mr. Plummey's custom to go out of doors after any one.
Plummey then related how unsuccessful had been his attempts to get rid of the now most unwelcome guest. Mr. Puffington listened with attention, determined to get rid of him somehow or other. Plummey was instructed to ply Sponge well with hints, all of which, however, Mr. Sponge skilfully parried. So, at last, Mr.
Plummey then withdrew, and presently went upstairs to report progress, or rather want of progress, to the gentleman whom he sometimes condescended to call 'master. Mr. Puffington had been taking another spell at the paper, and we need hardly say that the more he read of the run the less he liked it. 'Ah, that's Mr. Sponge's handiwork, observed Plummey, as with a sneer of disgust Mr.
Two red-plushed footmen stood on guard in the entrance, helping the arrivers out of their wraps, while a buzz of conversation sounded through the partially opened drawing-room door, as Mr. Plummey stood, handle in hand, to announce the names of the guests. Our friends, having the entrée, of course passed in as at home, and mingled with the comers and stayers.
'Don't know 'xactly, sir, replied the man; 'believe much the same party as yesterday, with the addition of Mr. Pacey; Mr. Miller, of Newton; Mr. Fogo, of Bellevue; Mr. Brown, of the Hill; and some others whose names I forget. 'Is Major Screw coming? asked Sponge. 'I rayther think not, sir. I think I heard Mr. Plummey, the butler, say he declined.
Puffington threw the paper from him as Plummey entered the room. 'How do you know? asked Mr. Puffington. 'Saw it, sir saw it in the letter-bag going to the post. 'Indeed! replied Mr. Puffington. 'Mr. Spraggon and he did it after they came in from hunting. 'I thought as much, replied Mr. Puffington, in disgust. Mr.
He did not like the aspect of affairs. In addition to having to spend the evening by himself, the cook sent him a very moderate dinner, smoked soup, sodden fish, scraggy cutlets, and sour pudding. Mr. Plummey, too, seemed to have put all the company bottle-ends together for him. This would not do.
At last, when he came to the 'seasonal fox, which some thought was a bay one, his indignation knew no bounds, and crumpling the paper up in a heap, he threw it from him in disgust. Just then in came Plummey, the butler. Plummey saw at a glance what had happened; for Mr.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking