'Then, we'll shoot turn and turn about,' replied the pertinacious guest.
Jog did his best to dissuade him, observing that the birds were (puff)
scarce and (wheeze) wild, and the (gasp) hares much troubled with poachers;
but Mr. Sponge wanted a walk, and moreover had a fancy for seeing Jog
handle his gun.
Having cut himself some extremely substantial sandwiches, and filled his
'monkey' full of sherry, our friend Jog slipped out the back way to loosen
old Ponto, who acted the triple part of pointer, house-dog, and horse to
Gustavus James. He was a great fat, black-and-white brute, with a head like
a hat-box, a tail like a clothes-peg, and a back as broad as a well-fed
sheep's. The old brute was so frantic at the sight of his master in his
green coat, and wide-awake to match, that he jumped and bounced, and
barked, and rattled his chain, and set up such yells, that his noise
sounded all over the house, and soon brought Mr. Sponge to the scene of
action, where stood our friend, loading his gun and looking as
consequential as possible.
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