Finer and finer was Mr. Mudflint becoming every moment as he warmed with
his subject--but unfortunately his audience was beginning very
unequivocally to intimate that they were quite satisfied with what they
had already heard. A cry, for instance, issued from the crowd--"the rest
of my _discoorse_ next Sunday!"--for they knew that they were being
kept all this while from one of their greatest favorites, Mr. Going
Gone, who had also himself been latterly rather frequently and
significantly winking his eye at those before him, and shrugging his
shoulders. Mr. Mudflint, therefore, with feelings of vivid vexation,
pique, and envy, concluded rather abruptly by proposing TITTLEBAT
TITMOUSE, ESQUIRE, of YATTON, as a fit and proper person to represent
them in Parliament. Up went hats into the air, and shouts of the most
joyous and enthusiastic description rent the air for several minutes.
Then took off his hat the jolly Mr. Going Gone--a signal for roars of
laughter, and cries of coarse and droll welcome, in expectancy of fun.
Nor were they disappointed. He kept them in good-humor and fits of
laughter during the whole of his "Address;" and though destitute of any
pretence to refinement, I must at the same time say, that there were to
be detected in it no traces of ill-nature. He concluded by seconding the
nomination of Mr. Titmouse, amid tumultuous cheers; and after waiting
for some few minutes, in order that they might subside, Mr. Gold took
off his hat, and essayed to address the crowd. Now he really was, what
he looked, an old man of unaffected and very great good-humor, and a
benevolence which was extensive, and systematic. He had only the week
before distributed soup, blankets, coals, and potatoes to two hundred
poor families in the borough, even as he had done at that period of the
year, for the preceding quarter of a century. No tale of distress,
indeed, was ever told him in vain, unless palpably fictitious and
fraudulent. The moment that his bare head, scantily covered with gray
hairs, was visible, there arose, at a given signal from Mr. Barnabas
Bloodsuck, a dreadful hissing, hooting, and groaning from all parts of
the crowd. If he appeared disposed to persevere in addressing the two or
three persons immediately around him, that only infuriated the mob
against the poor old man, who bore it all, however, with great
good-humor and fortitude. But it was in vain. After some twenty minutes
spent in useless efforts to make himself audible, he concluded in mere
dumb show, by proposing THE HONORABLE GEOFFREY LOVEL DELAMERE, at the
mention of whose name there again arose a perfect tempest of howling,
hissing, groaning, and hooting. Then Mr. Milnthorpe came forward,
determined not to be "_put down_." He was a very tall and powerfully
built man; bold and determined, with a prodigious power of voice, and
the heart of a lion. "Now, lads, I'm ready to try which can tire the
other out first!" he shouted in a truly stentorian voice, heard over all
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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