Jog's.
'What sort of stables are there?' asked he, reining up his hack, as he
encountered the brandy-nosed Leather airing himself on the main street.
'Stables be good enough--forage, too,' replied the stud groom--'_per_-wided
you likes the sittivation.'
'Oh, the sittivation 'll be good enough,' retorted Sponge, thinking that,
groom-like, Leather was grumbling because he hadn't got the best stables.
'Well, sir, as you please,' replied the man.
'Why, where are they?' asked Sponge, seeing there was more in Leather's
manner than met the eye.
'_Rose and Crown!_' replied Leather, with an emphasis.
'Rose and Crown!' exclaimed Sponge, starting in his saddle; 'Rose and
Crown! Why, I'm going to stay with Mr. Romford!'
'So he said.' replied Leather; 'so he said. I met him as I com'd in with
the osses, and said he to me, said he, "You'll find captle quarters at the
Crown!"' 'The deuce!' exclaimed Mr. Sponge, dropping the reins on his
hack's neck; 'the deuce!' repeated he with a look of disgust. 'Why, where
does he live?'
''Bove the saddler's, thonder,' replied Leather, nodding to a small
bow-windowed white house a little lower down, with the gilt-lettered words:
OVEREND,
SADDLER AND HARNESS-MAKER TO THE QUEEN,
above a very meagrely stocked shop.
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