'I know him,' said Jog; 'Peastraw of Stoke.'

'Ah, he said he knew you.' replied Mr. Sponge.

'Did he?' asked Jog eagerly. 'What did he say?'

'Say--let me see what he said,' replied he, pretending to recollect.' He
said "you are a deuced good feller," and I'd to make his compliments to
you, and to say that there were some nice young ash saplings on his farm
that you were welcome to cut.'

'Did he?' exclaimed Jog; 'I'm sure that's very (puff) polite of him. I'll
(wheeze) over there the first opportunity.'

'And what did you make of Sir Harry?' asked Mrs. Jog.

'Did you (puff) say you were going to (wheeze) over to him?' asked Jog
eagerly.

'I told him I'd go to him before I left the country,' replied Mr. Sponge
carelessly; adding, 'Sir Harry is rather too fast a man for me.'

'Too fast for himself, I should think,' observed Mrs. Jog.

'Fine (puff--wheeze) young man,' growled Jog into the bottom of his cup.

'Have you known him long?' asked Mrs. Jogglebury.

'Oh, we fox-hunters all know each other,' replied Mr. Sponge evasively.

'Well, now that's what I tell Mr. Jogglebury,' exclaimed she. 'Mr. Jog's so
shy, that there's no getting him to do what he ought,' added the lady. 'No
one, to hear him, would think he's the great man he is.'

'Ought (puff)--ought (wheeze),' retorted Jog, puffing furiously into his
capacious shirt-frill. 'It's one (puff) thing to know (puff) people out
with the (wheeze) hounds, and another to go calling upon them at their
(gasp) houses.' 'Well, but, my dear, that's the way people make
acquaintance,' replied his wife. 'Isn't it, Mr. Sponge?' continued she,
appealing to our friend.

'Oh, certainly,' replied Mr. Sponge, 'certainly; all men are equal out
hunting.'

'So I say,' exclaimed Mrs. Jogglebury; 'and yet I can't get Jog to call on
Sir George Stiff, though he meets him frequently out hunting.'

'Well, but then I can't (puff) upon him out hunting (wheeze), and then
we're not all equal (gasp) when we go home.'

So saying, our friend rose from his chair, and after giving each leg its
usual shake, and banging his pockets behind to feel that he had his keys
safe, he strutted consequentially up to the window to see how the day
looked.

Mr. Sponge, not being desirous of continuing the 'calling' controversy,
especially as it might lead to inquiries relative to his acquaintance with
Sir Harry, finished the contents of his plate quickly, drank up his tea,
and was presently alongsi