er entertainments for his wife and daughters, of which he had
two--daughters, we mean, not wives. His time was about up at Laverick Wells
when Mr. Sponge arrived there; nevertheless, during the few days that
remained to them, Mr. Jawleyford contrived to scrape a pretty intimate
acquaintance with a gentleman whose wealth was reported to equal, if it did
not exceed, that of Mr. Waffles himself. The following was the closing
scene between them:

[Illustration: Jawleyford of Jawleyford Court]

'Mr. Sponge,' said he, getting our hero by both hands in Culeyford's
Billiard Room, and shaking them as though he could not bear the idea of
separation; 'my dear Mr. Sponge,' added he, 'I grieve to say we're going
to-morrow; I had hoped to have stayed a little longer, and to have enjoyed
the pleasure of your most agreeable society.' (This was true; he would have
stayed, only his banker wouldn't let him have any more money.) 'But,
however, I won't say adieu,' continued he; 'no, I _won't_ say adieu! I
live, as you perhaps know, in one of the best hunting countries in
England--my Lord Scamperdale's--Scamperdale and I are like brothers; I can
do whatever I like with him--he has, I may say, the finest pack of hounds
in the world; his huntsman. Jack Frostyface, I really believe, cannot be
surpassed. Come, then, my dear fellow,' continued Mr. Jawleyford,
increasing the grasp and shake of the hands, and looking most earnestly in
Sponge's face, as if deprecating a refusal; 'come, then, my dear fellow,
and see us; we will do whatever we can to entertain and make you
comfortable. Scamperdale shall keep our side of the country till you come;
there are capital stables at Lucksford, close to the station, and you shall
have a stall for your hack at Jawleyford, and a man to look after him, if
you like; so now, don't say nay--your time shall be ours--we shall be at
home all the rest of the winter, and I flatter myself, if you once come
down, you will be inclined to repeat your visit; at least, I hope so.'

There are two common sayings; one, 'that birds of a feather flock
together'; the other, 'that two of a trade never agree'; which often seem
to us to contradict each other in the actual intercourse of life. Humbugs
certainly have the knack of drawing together, and yet they are always
excellent friends, and will vouch for the goodness of each other in a way
that few straight-forward men think it worth their while to adopt with
regard to indifferent p