'O dear, Mr. Jogglebury, will you hold your stoopid tongue!' exclaimed she, adding, 'you certainly are the most tiresome man under the sun.' She then turned to the child with:
'O ho! bother Ichard' again.
But the child was mute, and Mr. Sponge fearing, from some indistinct growling that proceeded from the carriage, that a storm was brewing, endeavoured to cut short the entertainment by exclaiming:
'Wonderful two-year-old! Pity he's not in the Darby. Dare say he'll tell me the rest when I come back.'
But this only added fuel to the fire of Mrs. Jogglebury's ardour, and made her more anxious that Sponge should not lose a word of it. Accordingly she gave the fat dumpling another jerk up on her arm, and repeated:
'O ho! bother Ichard, the—What's very high?' asked Mrs. Jogglebury coaxingly.
'Sun's very high,'
replied the child.
'Yes, my darling!' exclaimed the delighted mamma. Mrs. Jogglebury then proceeded with:
'Ou go before—'
Child.—'With bottle and bag,'
Mamma.—'And I'll follow after—'
Child.—'With 'ittle Jack Nag.'