Sponge, how Gustavus Ja--Ja--James will have lost his chance.' And
thereupon she dived for her lace-fringed pocket-handkerchief, and hurried
out of the room.
But Mrs. Jog had said quite enough to make the caldron of Jog's jealousy
boil over, and he sat staring into the fire, imagining all sorts of
horrible devices in the coals and cinders, and conjuring up all sorts of
evils, until he felt himself possessed of a hundred and twenty thousand
devils.
'I'll get shot of this chap at last,' said he, with a knowing jerk of his
head and a puff into his frill, as he drew his thick legs under his chair,
and made a semi-circle to get at the bottle. 'I'll get shot of this chap,'
repeated he, pouring himself out a bumper of the syrupy port, and eyeing it
at the composite candle. He drained off the glass, and immediately filled
another. That, too, went down; then he took another, and another, and
another; and seeing the bottle get low, he thought he might as well finish
it. He felt better after it. Not that he was a bit more reconciled to our
friend Mr.
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