་་ ་ ་ That's in the Latin gramAnd when declensions pall, why then, The exercise to vary, O, I bid them show how well they know ་་ My sweet, sweet verb, Amo, amas,-I love a lass," Her dainty name is NANCY,O, And none but she shall ever be The darling of my fancy, O! Amavi-well, in love I fell, And sure 'twas no vagary, O, For since that day I've learnt the way To conjugate Amare, O! I whisper now, "Ama, Love thou!" Amongst the fields of barley, O, And NANCE replies, with brimming eyes, "I love, I love thee, CHARLIE, O!" Amo, ama, the livelong day I'll teach fairy, O, my winsome For has not she resolved with me To conjugate Amare, O? CAUTION. The Major. "DON'T YOU LIKE LIQUEURS, MRS. JINKS?" Mrs. Jinks. "YES; BUT THEY MAKE ONE SO UNRESERVED!" THE CHRONICLES OF A RURAL PARISH. IV. ELECTIONEERING. WHATEVER my wife may think about my public meeting, and whatever I may feel about it myself, one thing is quite certain that it has left Mudford a very different village from what it found it. When I commenced my great efforts in the cause of citizenship there was apathy and ignorance amongst the "idiots"-as my friend Miss PHIL. BURTT insists on calling the villagers. Things travel quickly nowadays, and at the present moment we are all ablaze with the excitement of electioneering. I ought to say at once that I have taken as yet no steps in my own candidature. I feel that, after the part I have played in the great Drama of Village Home Rule, the next move ought to come from a grateful and appreciative peasantry. In point of fact, I have been expecting every day, every hour almost, a deputation to ask me to allow myself to be put in nomination-I fancy that's the correct phrase. So far the deputations have been as conspicuous by their absence since the meeting as they were annoying by their frequency before. Another curious fact I have noticed in this. We are to have a Parish Council of seven. Thus far I have heard of exactly seven This means that when I am nominated, as I shall be, of course, by all sections of the community (for I feel in my inward heart that it will be "all right on the night"), there will be only one candidate too many. Who will be the unsuccessful one? I wonder! candidates and no more. Of the seven candidates, I should first mention Mrs. LETHAM HAVITT and Mrs. ARBLE MARCH. Both of these ladies have started a vigorous campaign, and-mirabile dictu! (it makes one feel so literary to introduce every now and again a tag of Latin)-are running amicably together. At a Parliamentary election it's a case of war to the knife, but now the lion lies down with the lamb; not that, for one single instant, would I insinuate that either is a lion, or, for the matter of that, a lamb. I should be ashamed to be so familiar. Mrs. HAVITT's placards are everywhere on the walls. The effect of contrasts is at times surprising. For instance USE BANANA SOAP LETHAM HAVITT FOR THE PARISH COUNCIL. Mrs. ARBLE MARCH is no less enterprising, and has purple appeals to you to vote for "the March of Progress," and the March of Ideas." It may be very funny, but I have no patience with making a joke of such a serious matter. No one, at any rate, can ever accuse me of being intentionally funny. It is announced from the Hall that the Squire has very kindly consented to stand; the Vicar follows his neighbour's example, and will no doubt be returned, if for nothing else, as a compliment to his two charming daughters. (I think I must ask them to canvass for me when I come out. My wife declares she won't, and that she won't let my girls either.) That makes four candidates. The other three are BLACK BOB and two of his mates, who are claiming support as the People's Three." 66 And now comes, perhaps, the most extraordinary thing of alltheir programme! I find that it is full of the most (so-called) advanced ideas, but that the plank which seems to be the most attractive is Free Trout-fishing!" I confess I could hardly believe my own eyes when I read it. In the first place, it seemed so farcical. In the second place, the only trout-fishing in the neighbourhood happens to belong to ME! What's more, I don't see any way out of the difficulty. I met BLACK BOB a day or two ago and asked him how he ever got such an absurd notion into his head that the Parish Council had anything to do with trout-fishing. "It's all right, Mr. WINKINS," said he, "just remember what Section 8 says.' I said nothing at the time, because I thought as a fact that that section referred to Boards of Guardians. When I looked at the Act, sure enough I read, as being one of the powers possessed by the Parish Council"(e) To utilise any well, spring, or stream within their parish".... FIRST IMPRESSIONS. (CONTINUED.) LET me collect my scattered senses! Where am I? In Pitti Palace. On narrow staircase. Probably on forbidden ground. I hear footfall -descending. Perhaps it may be one of the officials, and I shall be caught in the act of attempting to enter the royal attics! What would be the punishment? Death, or penal servitude? The gallows or the galleys? Have happily several one-lira notes in my pocket. If these are not sufficient, five lire, or even tenBut I shall see what sort of man he is. Perhaps a few coppers would be enough. At this moment the obstruction descends, and I discover that he is a fat German tourist. For the first time in my life am pleased to look at a German, though the cut of this one's clothes is even worse than usual. Feel inclined to fall upon his neck and murmur Mahlzeit!" Prosit!" 66 or or some other idiotic exclamation peculiar to his country. Fortunately, remember that these are only said in connection with eating or drinking. Perhaps, if I were to remind him of drink, after he has spent hours in a dry, hot gallery, it would not tend to conciliate him. Therefore muster up the halfdozen words of his awful language which years of anxious study have enabled me to master in all their complexities of gender, number, case, declension, conjugation, agreement, government, &c.-not forgetting the exceptions and, taking off my hat, ask him if this is the entrance to the galleries. Ja wohl," says he. And moreover if I go up these stairs to the top. Ja wohl," says he again. Emboldened by his courteous affability, I remark that the staircase is very narrow. "Ja wohl," says he, for the third time, and passes on. A very interesting conversation with an intelligent foreigner in a country where we are both strangers. There is nothing like travel to enlarge the mind. Besides, one learns so much of foreign languages when one hears the varied idioms and phrases of the natives. Thus meditating I arrive at the top of the ladder. What a smell of paint! They are evidently doing up the palace. Turn along a passage about two feet wide-how that German got through it has puzzled me ever since-and find myself in a magnificent studio, filled with painters, easels, palettes and canvases, and with the smell of paint. That German deceived me. I have come to the wrong place after all. Am just about to apologise and retreat when I perceived a fine old master on the wall. Peeping amongst the painters, easels, palettes, and canvases, perceive other old masters, almost entirely hidden by the various erections of the students. At this moment an official rings a small bell. Ask him if I may be permitted to look at some of the pictures on the walls, if it would not be interfering with the painters. Certainly, signore," says he. And ask him where the Pitti Gallery is. "It is here," says he. What? I have reached it at last! But how can one see anything when the whole place is choked up with these execrable modern copies and the apparatus to support them? However, I will see what I can now that I have got here. Happily the daylight will last for at least another hour. 66 But,' ," continues the official, as I meditate, "it is now four o'clock. The gallery is closed." A FIRST IMPRESSIONIST. JOHN BULL À LA RUSSE. THE Novosti and other St. Petersburg papers favour the notion of an Anglo-Russian entente cordiale. We shall have to adapt our conversation to our new friends. As thus: SCENE-The Strand. Enter R. and L. two quondam Why, there's young WOTATOFF!... I hardly knew What do I live on? Why, vodka mostly, now that we've all turned Muscovites. But where are you going, IVAN IVANOVITCH ? I'm off to call on the Punchski Redaktor, at 10, Bouverieskaya Ulitsa. Why, so am I! let's hire a droshki. Khoroshó-excuse my sneezing!... Hi, izvostchik, drive us to the Punchskoye Bureau. What's the fare? two roubles? oh, nonsense! you shall have fifty kopeks, and ten more for tea-money! What an improvement those bells are, tinkling in the duga over the horse's neck! Yes, but Bozhe moi! that was a near shave with that runaway troika, down Wellington Street! How lucky it is the politsiya wear swords now to stop the traffic with.. Hullo, the Lyceumski Theatre is closed! Yes, don't you know Gospodin IRVING and Gospozha TERRY are on tour? Oh, so they are. . . . a mouthpiece! Will you smoke? Here's a papiroska, with Thanks, I'll finish my sweetmeats! Well, here we are..... What, the thief of a vanka wants more money? Why, we've only gone a verst! Where to? Oh, St. Petersburg, where they 're all talking English now, as a compliment to our "Prints WALESKI" and "Ghertsog YORKSKI." Very well. Ta-ta! do svidanya till to-morrow! AN ENGAGEMENT. (A Page from a Diary.) Monday.-Delightful news! My sister NELLIE is engaged to be married! It came upon us all as a great surprise. I never had the slightest suspicion that NELLIE cared twopence about old GOODBODY ST. LEGER. He is such a staid, solemn old party, a regular fossilised bachelor we all thought. Not at all the sort of man to give way to emotions or to be in love. However, it's a capital match for NELLIE as ST. LEGER'S firm are about the largest accountants in the city. My wife thinks it will be a good thing in another way, too, as my other six sisters may now have a chance of going off. It seems that when once this kind of epidemic gets into a family, all the unmarried sisters go popping off like blazes one after another. Called with my wife this afternoon to congratulate NELLIE. Rather a trial for the poor girl, as all sorts of female relatives had called full of enthusiasm and congratulations. GOODBODY was there (NELLIE calls him GOODIE") and seemed rather overwhelmed. He went away early and didn't kiss NELLIE. I thought this funny, and chaffed NELLIE about it afterwards. She said she'd soon make that all right. Tuesday.-GOODBODY is getting on. We had a family dinner at home to-night. He came rather late and entered the drawing-room with an air of great determination, marched straight up to NELLIE and kissed her violently. It was splendidly done and we all felt inclined to cheer. He kissed her again when he went away, and lingered so long in saying good night to my mother that we all thought he was going to kiss her too. But he didn't. My wife said that the suspense of those moments was dreadful. Wednesday. He has kissed my mother-on both cheeks. I must say the old lady took it extraordinarily well, though she was not in the very least prepared for it. It happened at five o'clock tea, in an interval of complete silence, and those two sounding smacks simply reverberated through the room. Mother was quite cheerful afterwards, and spoke to NELLIE about the trousseau in her usual calm and collected frame of mind. Still I can see that the incident has made a deep impression upon her. My wife told MAGGIE it would be her turn next. Thursday.-It has been MAGGIE's turn. GOODBODY called at home on his way from the City, and set to work as soon as he got into the drawing-room. He first kissed NELLIE, then repeated the performance with my poor mother, and, finding that MAGGIE was close beside him, he kissed her on the forehead. Where will this end? to-day, and, without a word of warning, kissed the whole familyFriday. He has regularly broken loose. He dined at home little BETA. He quite forgot he had begun with my mother, and, my mother, NELLIE, MAGGIE, ALICE, MABEL, POLLY, MAUD, and after he had kissed BETA, got confused, and began all over again. At this moment my wife and I came in with Aunt CATHERINE whom we had brought in our carriage. Both my wife and Aunt CATHERINE just advancing towards me, when the butler fortunately announced tried to escape, but it was no good. He kissed them both, and was dinner. Matters are getting quite desperate, and we none of us hysterics in the spare bedroom after dinner. know what ought to be done. Aunt CATHERINE had a violent fit of has been a lesson for all of us. Saturday. The engagement is broken off. A great relief. It DEAR TO DUSTMEN.-"A big, big D"-in the window. A TRIUMPH OF THE SCHOOL BOARD. THE collector of statistics was fairly posed by the attitude assumed by his visitor. The elderly lad (or, rather, very young man) had claimed admittance on the score that he was an "old boy" of the School Board. He wished to give his evidence anent the fate of the State-educated juvenile population. And you say you are not one of the 547 clerks ?" queried the collector. "No Sir, I am not. I would rather beg my bread from door to door than occupy a lofty stool from dawn to sundown." "And you are not one of the 413 milkboys?" "Again, no. It has been a tradition in our family for centuries to avoid water, so how could I dabble in the milk trade?" "And you are neither an actor, a jockey, nor a hairdresser ?" "I am not," was again the reply, couched in a tone of hauteur. "And you are not a soldierone of the ten that left the School Board for the more or less tented field ?" "I am not-nor a sailor." Then the collector of statistics paused for a moment, and spoke with a measure of hesitation. "You have not gone to the bad?" "Like my 333 schoolfellows ?" "Yes." GOING TO EXTREMES. Then the red blood of the visitor mounted to the roots of his hair and suffused his cheeks with PATERSON, I'LL HAE THE LAW O' YE, THOUGH IT SHOULD COST ME He of the Ruffled Temper. "As SURE'S MA NAME'S TAMMAS crimson. He indignantly denied HAUF-A-CROON!" THE CHRONICLES OF A RURAL PARISH. V. THE PARISH MEETING. Mudford, December 4, 11.30 P.M. THE Parish Meeting-long looked for, eagerly expected, anxiously anticipated-has come and gone. It has been indeed an interesting and eventful night. The meeting was called for half-past seven, and, when I reached the schoolroom, at two minutes before that time, the room was packed with parochial electors. A subdued cheer broke out as I entered, and, bowing my acknowledgments, I found my way to a seat in the front row, which a thoughtful overseer had reserved for me, his fellow overseer being stationed at the door to see that only those were admitted who had got on the wedding garment; or, to put it in a different way, whose names were on the Register. I soon saw that, practically, everyone was present. There were the MARCHITES, the LETHAM HAVITTITES, and BLACK BOB and his following, whilst the Vicar and the Squire were there, to lend an air of real intelligence and respectability to the whole affair. It never struck me before, though, how dull a man the Vicar is when you see him without his daughters-who, of course, were not present. Punctually at 7.30 the overseer asked the meeting to proceed to elect a chairman. There was a hush of expectant silence, and then BLACK BOB jumped up and proposed me. I had taken a great interest in the subject, and the tremendous amount I knew about it made me the most suitable person to take the chair that evening. A warm glow of satisfaction came over me, which deepened into a sense of burning joy when Mrs. MARCH seconded the motion, which was agreed to unanimously. I took the chair, and after a hurried glance at my instructions, invited nominations to be sent in to me. Seven were sent in in the first two minutes-nominations of the seven who had previously issued election addresses. Then came an awful and an awkward pause. I waited, for I had to wait for a quarter of an hour-the instructions told me to. It was un mauvais quart d'heure. Of course I was waiting for my own nomination. It is a humiliating fact to have to record, but it did not come. Then the whole thing became clear to me; my election to the chair was a sop to console me for being shunted from the Parish Council. But I was not to be fcbbed off in this VOL. CVII. the imputation. He might be poor, but at any rate he was honest. "No, he had never been in prison." "Then what are you?" asked the collector, in a tone not entirely free from traces of annoyance. "Surely you must be something!" "I am more than something!" returned the visitor, proudly. "I am unique-I am a curiosity." "What may you be?" "I am a boy, educated by the School Board, who is satisfied to follow in the footsteps of his father. My father was a bricklayer, and I am satisfied to lay bricks myself." "My dear Sir," said the collector, grasping him cordially by the hand, "I congratulate you. This is the first time I have met a boy who has been satisfied to adopt the trade followed by his parent. And now you can do me a small favour." And then the collector engaged his guest to renovate the walls of his house, which (on account of the scarcity of trained labour) had for many years been sadly out of repair. way. I put my hand in my pocket, and a minute before the time was up produced a nomination paper which I had got my gardener and coachman to sign. It is always well to be prepared for accidents. However, even bad quarters of an hour come to an end, and at the end of the remaining minute I announced that as I had been nominated myself, I could not stay in the chair. This was evidently an unexpected turn, but Mrs. LETHAM HAVITT was equal to the occasion. She proposed the assistant-overseer. He was elected, declared all the eight nomination papers were in order, and then threw the meeting open to questions. The heckling began at once. I was the first victim over that confounded Free Trout-fishing. Was I in favour of it? I said that as all there was belonged to me, it was obvious I could hardly be expected to answer the question. Mrs. ARBLE MARCH and Mrs. LETHAM HAVITT said they were prepared to use all the powers the Act conferred as to free fishing. I noticed that a curious smile lurked round the mouths of both, and I should have said, if I had not thought it to be too incredible to be true, that Mrs. MARCH almost winked her eye. Anyhow, the meeting cheered, and seemed satisfied. BLACK BOB made a long and impassioned speech, in which he called the Act the Charter of the Peasants' Liberty. This, too, evoked great enthusiasm. Finally the questioning flickered out, no one withdrew their candidature, and the voting commenced. I had previously noticed that there were 173 electors present. My name-WINKINScame last. Marvellous to relate, 173 hands were held up for each of the first seven candidates-for I thought it only a courteous thing to vote for my opponents. When my name was put, only 59 hands went up. It will be noticed that the total number of votes was more than seven times the number of votes, and no one ought to have voted more than seven times! The show of hands was a fraud and a farce, so it was only in common justice to the parish and myself that I should demand a poll. A poll I did demand, and we are to have an election on Monday week. When I got home I found a letter from the Local Government Board, referring me on the trout-fishing point to the words of the Act, to which accordingly I at once turned. Then I saw that the clause was "to utilize any... stream within their parish... but so as not to interfere with the rights of any corporation or person..." I had stopped short before at these last words. I understand at last why Mrs. ARBLE MARCH winked-for wink I now know she did. A A |