liberty to read the Riot Act, and disperse them to their bedrooms, till such times as they wanted to eat and drink.

A most scientifically-sounded gong, beginning low, like distant thunder, and gradually increasing its murmur till it filled the whole mansion with its roar, at length relieved all parties from the labour of further efforts; and, looking at his watch, Jawleyford asked Mrs Jawleyford, in an innocent, indifferent sort of way, which was Mr Sponge’s room; though he had been fussing about it not long before, and dusting the portrait of himself in his green-and-gold yeomanry uniform, with an old pocket-handkerchief

‘The crimson room, my dear,’ replied the well-drilled Mrs Jawleyford; and Spigot coming with candles, Jawleyford preceded ‘Mr Sponge’ up a splendid richly-carved oak staircase, of such gradual and easy rise that an invalid might almost have been drawn up it in a garden-chair.

Passing a short distance along a spacious corridor, Mr Jawleyford presently opened a door to the right, and led the way into a large gloomy room, with a little newly-lighted wood fire crackling in an enormous grate, making darkness visible, and drawing the cold out of the walls. We need scarcely say it was that terrible room -- the best; with three creaking, ill-fitting windows, and heavy crimson satindamask furniture, so old as scarcely to be able to sustain its own weight.

‘Ah! here you are,’ observed Mr Jawleyford, as he nearly tripped over Sponge’s luggage as it stood by the fire. ‘Here you are,’ repeated he, giving the candle a flourish, to show the size of the room, and draw it back on the portrait of himself above the mantelpiece. ‘Ah! I declare here’s an old picture of myself,’ said he, holding the candle up to the face, as if he hadn’t seen it for some time -- ‘a picture that was done when I was in the Bumperkin yeomanry,’ continued he, passing the light before the facings. ‘That was considered a good likeness at the time,’ said he, looking affectionately at it, and feeling his nose to see if it was still the same size: ‘ours was a capital corps -- one of the best, if not the very best in the service. The inspecting officer always spoke of it in the highest possible terms -- especially of my company, which really was just as perfect as anything my Lord Cardigan, or any of your crack disciplinarians, can produce. However, never mind,’ continued he, lowering the candle, seeing Mr Sponge didn’t enter into the spirit of the thing; ‘you’ll be wanting to dress. You’ll find hot water on the table yonder,’ pointing to the far corner of the room, where the outline of a jug might just be descried; ‘there’s a bell in the bed if you want anything; and dinner will be ready as soon as you are dressed. You needn’t make yourself very fine,’ added he, as he retired; ‘for we are only ourselves: hope we shall have some of our neighbours tomorrow or next day, but we are rather badly off for neighbours just here -- at least for short-notice neighbours.’ So saying, he disappeared through the dark doorway.

The latter statement was true enough, for Jawleyford, though apparently such a fine open-hearted, sociable sort of man, was in reality a very quarrelsome, troublesome fellow. He quarrelled with all his neighbours in succession, generally getting through them every two or three years; and his acquaintance were divided into two classes -- the best and the worst fellows under the sun. A stranger revising Jawleyford after an absence of a year or two, would very likely find the best fellows of former days transformed into the worst ones of that. Thus, Parson Hobanob, that pet victim of country caprice, would come in and go out of season like lamb or asparagus; Major Moustache and Jawleyford would be as ‘thick as thieves’ one day, and at daggers drawn the next; Squire Squaretoes, of Squaretoes House, and he, were continually kissing or cutting; and even distance -- nine miles of bad road, and, of course, heavy tolls -- could not keep the peace between lawyer Seedywig and him. What between rows and reconciliations, Jawleyford was always at work.