After assisting Mrs. Clearstarch, the Kilburn laundress, in
getting in and taking out her washing, for a few weeks, chance at last
landed him at Mr. Benjamin Buckram's, from whence he is now about to be
removed to become our hero Mr. Sponge's Sancho Panza, in his fox-hunting,
fortune-hunting career, and disseminate in remote parts his doctrines of
the real honour and dignity of servitude. Now to the inspection.
Peter Leather, having a peep-hole as well as his master, on seeing Mr.
Sponge arrive, had given himself an extra rub over, and covered his dirty
shirt with a clean, well-tied, white kerchief, and a whole coloured scarlet
waistcoat, late the property of one of his noble employers, in hopes that
Sponge's visit might lead to something. Peter was about sick of the
suburbs, and thought, of course, that he couldn't be worse off than where
he was.
'Here's Mr. Sponge wants some osses,' observed Mr. Buckram, as Leather met
them in the middle of the little yard, and brought his right arm round with
a sort of military swing to his forehead; 'what 'ave we in?' continued
Buckram, with the air of a man with so many horses that he didn't know what
were in and what were out.
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