Digital primer

'Where are the stables?' at last asked Sponge, seeing no inclination to
move on the part of his host.
'Stables (wheeze)--stables (puff),' replied Jogglebury, recollecting
Sponge's previous day's proposal--'stables (wheeze) are behind,' said he,
'at the back there (puff); nothin' to see at them (wheeze).'
'There'll be the horse you drove yesterday; won't you go to see how he is?'
asked Mr. Sponge.
'Oh, sure to be well (puff); never nothing the matter with him (wheeze),'
replied Jogglebury.
'May as well see,' rejoined Mr. Sponge, turning up a narrow walk that
seemed to lead to the back.
Jog followed doggedly. He had a good deal of John Bull in him, and did not
fancy being taken possession of in that sort of way; and thought, moreover,
that Mr. Sponge had not behaved very well in the matter of the egg
controversy.
The stables certainly were nothing to boast of. They were in an old
rubble-stone, red-tiled building, without even the delicacy of a ceiling.
Nevertheless, there was plenty of room even after Jogglebury had cut off
one end for a cow-house.


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