Crowdey came bearing down the bank dragging a great
blackthorn bush after him.
'What have you got there?' inquired Mr. Sponge, with surprise.
'Got! (wheeze--puff--wheeze),' replied Mr. Crowdey, pulling up short, and
mopping his perspiring brow with a great claret-coloured bandana. 'Got!
I've (puff--wheeze) got what I (wheeze) think will (puff) into a most
elaborate and (wheeze) valuable walking-stick. This I (puff) think,'
continued he, eyeing the great ball with which he had got it up, 'will
(wheeze) come in most valuably (puff) for my great (puff--wheeze--gasp)
national undertaking--the (puff) Kings and (wheeze) Queens of Great Britain
(gasp).'
'What are _they_?' asked Mr. Sponge, astonished at his vehemence.
'Oh! (puff--wheeze--gasp) haven't you heard?' exclaimed Mr. Jogglebury,
taking off his great woolly hat, and giving his lank, dark hair, streaked
with grey, a sweep round his low forehead with the bandana. 'Oh!
(puff--gasp) haven't you heard?' repeated he, getting a little more
breath. 'I'm (wheeze) undertaking a series of (gasp) sticks,
representing--(gasp)--immortalizing, I may say (puff), all the (wheeze)
crowned heads of England (puff).
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