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Jogglebury Crowdey, if not quite convinced of the accuracy of his calculations, nevertheless thought it well to encourage his hunting predilections, inasmuch as it brought him in contact with people he would not otherwise meet, who, she thought, might possibly be useful to their children.
Sponge's hat-crown, instead of dropping into his ear; besides which, the unwilling host's mind was a good deal occupied with wishing that there had been three haddocks instead of two, and speculating whether Mrs. Crowdey would be more pleased at the success of his mission, or put out of her way by Mr. Sponge's unexpected coming.
Jogglebury sat silent for a time, examining his feet attentively as if to see they were pairs, and scrutinizing the bags of his cinnamon-coloured trousers. Jogglebury Crowdey sent me to say I mean to say, continued he, stamping one of his ponderous feet against the floor as if to force out his words, 'Mrs. 'Most happy, I'm sure! exclaimed Mr. Sponge, jumping at the offer.
There did not, however, seem to be much likelihood of his having to perform that ceremony, for nine o'clock struck and no Mr. Sponge, and at half-past Mr. Crowdey stumped off to bed. Mrs. Crowdey, having given Bartholomew and Susan a dirty pack of cards to play with to keep them awake till Mr. Sponge arrived, went to bed, too, and the house was presently tranquil.
Crowdey, with a yawn after another pause, and beating the devil's tattoo upon the table to keep himself awake. 'Very, replied Mr. Sponge, wondering how such a thick-winded chap as Jog managed to partake of it. 'It is, replied Mr. Sponge. Presently Jog began to snore, and as the increasing melody of his nose gave little hopes of returning animation, Mr.
Jogglebury's management especially as the guest was of her own seeking to know that she would make up a tolerable dinner. Nor was he out of his reckoning, for at half-past five Bartholomew announced dinner, when in sailed Mrs. Crowdey fresh from the composition of it and from the becoming revision of her own dress.
Crowdey, complacently dropping his fat hand on his fat knees, seemed to resign himself to his fate. So they crawled along the up-and-downy piece of road below Poplarton plantations, Mr. Jogglebury keeping a sharp eye upon the underwood for sticks.
Sponge? continued she, again appealing to our friend. 'Sure I don't know, replied Sponge, eating away; 'Mr. Crowdey finds conveyance I only find company. Mrs. Jogglebury Crowdey then prepared to pour her husband out another cup of tea, and the musical snuff-box, being now left to itself, went off of its own accord with: 'Diddle, diddle, doubt, My candle's out.
Just give me what you have yourselves just give me what you have yourselves. Where two can dine, three can dine, you know. Mr. Jogglebury Crowdey was nonplussed. 'Well, now, said 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.
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