Ten Thousand a-Year. Volume 3

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Samuel Warren. Ten Thousand a-Year. Volume 3

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER V

CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER VII

CHAPTER VIII

CHAPTER IX

CHAPTER X

CHAPTER XI

CHAPTER XII

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Mr. Titmouse, on concluding, made a great number of very profound bows, and replaced his hat upon his head, amid prolonged and enthusiastic cheering, which, on Mr. Delamere's essaying to address the crowd, was suddenly converted into a perfect hurricane of hissing; like as we now and then find a shower of rain suddenly change into hail. Mr. Delamere stood the pitiless pelting of the storm with calmness, resolution, and good-humor. Ten minutes had elapsed, and he had not been allowed to utter one syllable audible to any one beyond four or five feet from him. Every fresh effort he made to speak caused a renewal of the uproar, and many very offensive and opprobrious epithets were applied to him. Surely this was disgraceful, disgusting! What had he done to deserve such treatment? Had he been guilty of offering some gross indignity and outrage to every person present, individually, could he have fared worse than he did? He had conducted his canvass with scrupulous and exemplary honor and integrity—with the utmost courtesy to all parties, whether adverse or favorable. He was surely not deficient in those qualities of head and of heart—of personal appearance, even, which usually secure man favor with his fellows. Who could lay anything to his charge—except that he had ventured to solicit the suffrages of the electors of Yatton, in competition with Mr. Titmouse? If men of a determined character and of princely means have to calculate upon such brutal usage as this, can those who sanction or perpetrate it wonder at bribery and other undue means being resorted to, in absolute self-defence? Is it meant to deter any one from coming forward that has not a forehead of brass, leathern lungs, and heart of marble? After upwards of a quarter of an hour had been thus consumed, without Mr. Delamere's having been permitted to utter two consecutive sentences, though he stood up against it patiently and gallantly, the returning officer, who had often appealed to them in vain, earnestly besought Mr. Titmouse to use his influence with the crowd, in order to secure Mr. Delamere a moment's hearing.

"'Pon my life—I—eh?" quoth Titmouse. "A likely thing! He'd do it for me, wouldn't he? Every man for himself—all fair at an election, eh, Gammon?"

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"Sir, you're not the man I took you for," replied Mr. O'Gibbet, impatiently and contemptuously. "Don't you see a barleycorn before your nose? You'll be beat after spending three times the money I name, and be liable to ten thousand pounds' penalties besides for bribery"–

"Oh, 'pon my life, sir, as for that," said Titmouse, briskly, but feeling sick at heart, "I've no more to do with it than—my tiger"–

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