Caricatures and cartoons -- Great Britain; English wit and humor; English wit and humor, Pictorial
The first contest that ever took place in Crooksley--for it is odd
enough, but they never could get up a contested election until I, having
retired from business, went to settle there in the enjoyment of concord,
harmony, and peace,--the first contest occurred several years ago. It was
a struggle--and well do I remember it--for the office of organist. No
sooner was the place vacant--almost, I might say, before the bellows of
the departed holder had lost their last breath of wind--than up started
half-a-dozen of the nobs of Crooksley, with Dr. Blandish at their head,
and down they came to me at the lodge with a flourishing testimonial to
sign--a testimonial in favour of Miss Cramper, as a fit and proper person
to fill the post of organist.
Miss Cramper! And who was Miss Cramper, I internally asked myself. But I
couldn't answer the question. I knew, in fact, little about her, except
that she had lived long in the place, had decent connexions, not over
rich, and happened to be a capital musician; the best organ-player, I
must admit, that anybody ever heard in or out of our village. But with
this exception she hadn't a single claim, not a pretension that I know
of, to the post of organist. She was not asthmatic--she had not nine
children, seven of them solely depending upon her for support--nor did
she even pretend to have lost her eyesight, "or any part thereof,"
as Knix the lawyer says; for she was ogling Blandish all throughout
the interview, as if she looked upon _him_ to be the first-fiddle in
Crooksley--Humph!
Well! I confess I didn't like the proceeding; and so, after assuring
the requisitionists, in the friendliest manner, that Miss Cramper
should certainly have my vote and interest--in the event, I added, more
to myself, perhaps, than to them--in the event of no candidate coming
forward to oppose her,--what did I do but I brought forward a candidate
of my own!
It so happened that I had taken down there with me from the Old Jewry
an elderly warehouseman, whom I couldn't well send adrift, and who was
of no earthly use to me, either in the house or in the grounds. Now,
poor Joggins, besides being bent double, chanced, very luckily, to have
eyes like an owl, and there were the strongest hopes of their becoming
speedily weaker; so that here at once was a qualification. In addition to
that, he had had two sons: one, a waterman, drowned by the usual means,
collision with a steamer, was easily elevated into a British seaman
dying in defence of his country; and the other, for whom I had obtained
a situation in the new police, was, of course, one of the brave devoted
guardians of his native land. To crown our good-luck, Joggins had been
very fond of playing the flute before wind got so very valuable to him,
and really did know something practically of that enchanting instrument,
so that his qualifications as an organist were more than indisputable.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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