'If you would just drive up to that farmhouse on the hill,'
pointing to one about half a mile off, 'I think we should be able to decide
whether it's worth going on or not.'
'Well (puff), well (wheeze), well (gasp),' pondered Jogglebury, still
staring at the gate, 'if you (puff) think it's worth (wheeze) while going
through the (gasp) gate,' nodding towards it as he spoke.
'Oh, never mind the gate,' replied Mr. Sponge, with an ostentatious dive
into his breeches pocket, as if he was going to pay it.
He kept his hand in his pocket till he came close up to the gate, when,
suddenly drawing it out, he said:
'Oh, hang it! I've left my purse at home! Never mind, drive on,' said he to
his host; exclaiming to the man, 'it's Mr. Crowdey's carriage--Mr.
Jogglebury Crowdey's carriage! Mr. Crowdey, the chairman of the
Stir-it-stiff Poor-Law Union!'
'Sixpence!' shouted the man, following the phaeton with outstretched hand.
''Ord, hang it (puff)! I could have done that (wheeze),' growled
Jogglebury, pulling up.
'You harn't got no ticket,' said Coppers, coming up, 'and ain't a-goin' to
not never no meetin' o' trustees, are you?' asked he, seeing the importance
of the person with whom he had to deal;--a trustee of that and other roads,
and one who always availed himself of his privilege of going to the
meetings toll-free.
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