Jogglebury.
'I should (puff) do no such thing,' snorted her husband into his frill. 'I
should hope,' continued he, speaking slowly and solemnly, 'that a (puff)
wise ministry will purchase the whole (puff) collection for a (wheeze)
grateful nation, when the (wheeze)' something 'is no more (wheeze).' The
concluding words being lost in the emotion of the speaker (as the reporters
say).
'Well, but will you go and call on Mr. Sponge, dear?' asked Mrs. Jogglebury
Crowdey, anxious as well to turn the subject as to make good her original
point.
'Well, my dear, I've no objection,' replied Joggle, wiping a tear from the
corner of his eye with his coat-cuff.
'That's a good soul!' exclaimed Mrs. Jogglebury soothingly. 'Go to-morrow,
like a nice, sensible man.'
'Very well,' replied her now complacent spouse.
'And ask him to come here,' continued she.
'I can't (puff) ask him to (puff) come, my dear (wheeze), until he
(puff--wheeze) returns my (puff) call.'
'Oh, fiddle,' replied his wife, 'you always say fox-hunters never stand
upon ceremony; why should you stand upon any with him?'
Mr.
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