Thus, Parson Hobanob, that pet
victim of country caprice, would come in and go out of season like lamb or
asparagus; Major Moustache and Jawleyford would be as 'thick as thieves'
one day, and at daggers drawn the next; Squire Squaretoes, of Squaretoes
House, and he, were continually kissing or cutting; and even distance--nine
miles of bad road, and, of course, heavy tolls--could not keep the peace
between lawyer Seedywig and him. What between rows and reconciliations,
Jawleyford was always at work.
CHAPTER XVI
THE DINNER
[Illustration]
Notwithstanding Jawleyford's recommendation to the contrary, Mr. Sponge
made himself an uncommon swell. He put on a desperately stiff starcher,
secured in front with a large gold fox-head pin with carbuncle eyes; a
fine, fancy-fronted shirt, with a slight tendency to pink, adorned with
mosaic-gold-tethered studs of sparkling diamonds (or French paste, as the
case might be); a white waistcoat with fancy buttons; a blue coat with
bright plain ones, and a velvet collar, black tights, with broad
black-and-white Cranbourne-alley-looking stockings (socks rather), and
patent leather pumps with gilt buckles--Sponge was proud of his leg.
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