urry Ann!'
exclaimed Mr. Jogglebury, as she came darting into the passage from the
back settlements, up to the elbows in soap-suds; 'I want you to (puff)
upstairs with me, and help to get my (wheeze) gibbey-sticks out of the best
room; there's a (puff) gentleman coming to (wheeze) here.'

'Oh, indeed, sir,' replied Mary Ann, smiling, and dropping down her
sleeves--glad to find it was no worse.

They then proceeded upstairs together.

All the gibbey-sticks were bundled out, both the finished ones, that were
varnished and laid away carefully in the wardrobe, and those that were
undergoing surgical treatment, in the way of twistings, and bendings, and
tyings in the closets. As they routed them out of hole and corner,
Jogglebury kept up a sort of running recommendation to mercy, mingled with
an inquiry into the state of the household affairs.

'Now (puff), Murry Ann!' exclaimed he; 'take care you don't scratch that
(puff) Franky Burdett,' handing her a highly varnished oak stick, with the
head of Sir Francis for a handle; 'and how many (gasp) haddocks d'ye say
there are in the house?'

'Three, sir,' replied Mary Ann.

'Three!' repeated he, with an emphasis. 'I thought your (gasp) missus told
me there were but (puff) two; and, Murry Ann, you must put the new (puff)
quilt on the (gasp) bed, and (puff) just look under it (gasp) and you'll
find the (puff) old Truro rolled up in a dirty (puff) pocket hankercher;
and, Murry Ann, d'ye think the new (wheeze) purtaters came that I bought of
(puff) Billy Bloxom? If so, you'd better (puff) some for dinner, and get
the best (wheeze) decanters out; and, Murry Ann, there are two gibbeys on
the (puff) surbase at the back of the bed, which you may as well (puff)
away. Ah! here he is,' added Mr. Jogglebury, as Mr. Sponge's voice rose now
from the passage into the room above.

Things now looked pretty promising. Mr. Sponge's attentions to the children
generally, and to Gustavus James in particular, coupled with his
free-and-easy mode of introducing himself, made Mrs. Crowdey feel far more
at her ease with regard to entertaining him than she would have done if her
neighbour, Mr. Makepeace, or the Rev. Mr. Facey himself, had dropped in to
take 'pot luck,' as they called it. With either of these she would have
wished to appear as if their every-day form was more in accordance with
their company style, whereas Jog and she wanted to get something out of Mr.
Sponge, instead of electrifying