ten minutes to seven
Jog blowing out the company candles on the side-table as he passed . Jog munched away with a capital appetite ; but Mrs. Jog , who took the bulk of her lading in at the children 's dinner , sat trifling with the contents of her plate , listening alternately for the sound of horses ' hoofs outside , and for nursery squalls in . Dinner passed over , and the fruity port and sugary sherry soon usurped the places that stick-jaw pudding and cheese had occupied . ` Mr. -LRB- puff -RRB- Sponge must be -LRB- wheeze -RRB- , I think , ' observed Jog , hauling his great silver watch out , like a bucket , from his fob , on seeing that it only wanted ten minutes to seven . ` Oh , Jog ! ' exclaimed Mrs. Jog , clasping her beautiful hands , and casting her bright beady eyes up to the low ceiling . ` Oh , Jog !