Dash it,
how remiss!' continued he, making for the little bookshelf on which it lay;
adding, as he blew into it and sucked the joints, 'you're musical, of
course?'
'Oh, I can stand music,' muttered Sponge, with a jerk of his head, as if a
tune was neither here nor there with him.
'By Jingo! you should see me Oncle Gilroy when a'rm playin'! The old man
act'ly sheds tears of delight--he's so pleased.'
'Indeed,' replied Sponge, now passing on into _Mogg's Cab
Fares_--'Aldersgate Street, Hare Court, to or from Bagnigge Wells,' and so
on, when Facey struck up the most squeaking, discordant, broken-winded
'Jump Jim Crow'
that ever was heard, making the sensitive Sponge shudder, and setting all
his teeth on edge.
'Hang me, but that flute of yours wants nitre, or a dose of physic, or
something most dreadful!' at length exclaimed he, squeezing up his face as
if in the greatest agony, as the laboured:
'Jump about and wheel about'
completely threw Sponge over in his calculation as to what he could ride
from Aldgate Pump to the Pied Bull at Islington for.
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