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'Confounded, puffing, wheezing, gasping, broken-winded old blockhead it is! growled Mr. Sponge, wishing he could get to his former earth at Puffington's, or anywhere else. When he got down he found Jog in a very roomy, bright, green-plush shooting-jacket, with pockets innumerable, and a whistle suspended to a button-hole.
In the midst of his cogitations Mr. Puffington's pressing invitation occurred to his mind, and it appeared to be the very thing for him, affording him an immediate asylum within reach of the fair lady, should she be likely to die. Next day he wrote to volunteer a visit. Mr. Sponge by buying his horses, and he determined to try this experiment first.
Enormous dock-tailed dray-horses emerged with ponderous waggons heaped up to the very skies, while others would come rumbling in, laden with wheat, potatoes, and other starch-making ingredients. Puffington's blue roans were well known about town, and were considered the handsomest horses of the day; quite equal to Barclay and Perkin's piebalds. Old Puffington was not like a sportsman.
Lord Scamperdale, knowing our friend Jack was not over affluent, had no idea of spoiling him by too much luxury, and as the railway would serve a certain distance in the line of Hanby House, he despatched Jack to the Over-shoes-over-boots station with the dog-cart, and told him he would be sure to find a 'bus, or to get some sort of conveyance at the Squandercash station to take him up to Puffington's; at all events, his lordship added to himself, 'If he doesn't, it'll do him no harm to walk, and he can easily get a boy to carry his bag.
The allowance of beer was a pint and a half per diem to Bartholomew, and a pint to each woman; and Mr. Mr. Leather, however, did not like it. 'Puffington's servants, he said, 'had beer whenever they chose, and he thought it 'awful mean' restricting the quantity. Mr. Jog, however, was not to be moved. Thus time crawled heavily on. Mr. and Mrs.
If Sponge could have satisfied himself that his host would not be better in a day or two, he would have thought seriously of leaving; but as he could not bring himself to think that he would not, and, moreover, had no place to go to, had it not been for the concluding portion of Mr. Puffington's note, he would have made an effort to stay.
Bragg had also a sort of City or monetary tariff of politeness a tariff that was oftener called in requisition than the 'Debrett' one, in Mr. Puffington's country.
Still he kept up appearances, and was nothing daunted, it being a maxim of his that 'as one door closed another opened. Mr. Puffington's was the door that now opened for him. What greater humiliation can a free-born Briton be subjected to than paying a man eighty or a hundred pounds a year, and finding him house, coals, and candles, and perhaps a cow, to be his master?
Jack, who was tolerably quick at a chance, now began to see how things were, and to fathom Mr. Puffington's mistake. His ready imagination immediately saw there might be something made of it, so he prepared to keep up the delusion.
'Oh, fiddle, replied his wife, 'you always say fox-hunters never stand upon ceremony; why should you stand upon any with him? Mr. Jogglebury was posed, and sat silent. Well, then, as we said before, when one door shuts another opens; and just as Mr. Puffington's door was closing on poor Mr. Sponge, who should cast up but our newly introduced friend, Mr. Jogglebury Crowdey. Mr.
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