‘Oh, he’s pretty middling, I should say,’ replied Sponge, now making up his mind that he was addressing the doctor.

‘Pretty middlin’ (puff),’ repeated Jogglebury, blowing into his frill; ‘pretty middlin’ (wheeze); I s’pose that means he’s got a (puff) gumboil.  My third (wheeze) girl, Margaret Henrietta has one.’

‘Do you want to see him?’ asked Sponge, after a pause, which seemed to indicate that his friend’s conversation had come to a period, or full stop.

‘No,’ replied Jogglebury unconcernedly.  ’No; I’ll leave a (puff) card for him (wheeze),’ added he, fumbling in his wallet behind for his card-case.  ‘My (puff) object is to pay my (wheeze) respects to you,’ observed he, drawing a great carved Indian case from his pocket, and pulling off the top with a noise like the drawing of a cork.

‘Much obliged for the compliment,’ observed Mr. Sponge, as Jogglebury fumbled and broke his nails in attempting to get a card out.

‘Do you stay long in this part of the world?’ asked he, as at last he succeeded, and commenced tapping the corners of the card on the table.

‘I really don’t know,’ replied Mr. Sponge, as the particulars of his situation flashed across his mind.  Could this pudding-headed man be a chap Puffington had got to come and sound him, thought he.

Jogglebury sat silent for a time, examining his feet attentively as if to see they were pairs, and scrutinizing the bags of his cinnamon-coloured trousers.

‘I was going to say (hem—­cough—­hem),’ at length observed he, looking up, ’that’s to say, I was thinking (hem—­wheeze—­cough—­hem), or rather I should say, Mrs. Jogglebury Crowdey sent me to say—­I mean to say,’ continued he, stamping one of his ponderous feet against the floor as if to force out his words, ’Mrs. Jogglebury Crowdey and I would be glad—­happy, that’s to say (hem)—­if you would arrange (hem) to (wheeze) pay us a visit (hem).’

‘Most happy, I’m sure!’ exclaimed Mr. Sponge, jumping at the offer.

‘Before you go (hem),’ continued our visitor, taking up the sentence where Sponge had interrupted him; ’I (hem) live about nine miles (hem) from here (hem).’

‘Are there any hounds in your neighbourhood?’ asked Mr. Sponge.

‘Oh yes,’ replied Mr. Jogglebury slowly; ’Mr. Puffington here draws up to Greatacre Gorse within a few (puff—­wheeze) miles—­say, three (puff)—­of my (wheeze) house; and Sir Harry Scattercash (puff) hunts all the (puff—­wheeze) country below, right away down to the (puff—­wheeze) sea.’

‘Well, you’re a devilish good fellow!’ exclaimed Sponge; ’and I’ll tell you what, as I’m sure you mean what you say, I’ll take you at your word and go at once; and that’ll give our friend here time to come round.’

‘Oh, but (puff—­wheeze—­gasp),’ started Mr. Jogglebury, the blood rushing to his great yellow, whiskerless cheeks, ’I’m not quite (gasp) sure that Mrs. (gasp) Jogglebury (puff) Crowdey would be (puff—­wheeze—­gasp) prepared.’