Page:All the Year Round - Series 2 - Volume 1.djvu/469

Charles Dickens] energy that his cue was taken by the more knowing ones, and the harmony was abandoned as Mr. Teesdale went on to say:

"Capital, bravo, excellent! Always look to you, Whicher, to sing us a good song! First time I heard you sing that was years ago, when our old friend Hardy gave us a supper on the occasion of opening his dancing school! Poor Hardy, not well, eh? or he'd have been here among us! Push the bowl about, eh? Ah, we're likely to have plenty of that sort of fun soon, if I'm correctly informed!"

"What's that, Muster Teesdale?" asked Farmer Adams. "Somebody going to be married, eh?"

"No, no, one at a time, Adams, one at a time."

"What's comin' off then, Muster Teesdale?"

"Well, it's expected that in about a couple of months' time there'll be a general election, Mr. Adams, and you know what that means! I wasn't far out when I said that the bowl would be pushed about at such a time as that, was I?"

"That 'ee warn't, Muster Teesdale, that 'ee warn't! Not that we hold much wi' 'lections about here!"

"That's 'cos there's no proper spirit of opp'sition," said Mr. Croke, who was accustomed to speak very loudly and freely on political matters, and who was delighted at seeing the conversation taking this turn; "that's 'cos there's no proper spirit of opp'sition," he repeated, looking round him, partly in triumph, partly to see if any antagonist were making ready net and spear. "They Tories is 'lowed to walk over the course and du just as pleases 'em!"

"What sort of opp'sition could you expect, Muster Croke?" said Farmer Spalding, puffing at his long churchwarden. "What good could Lib'rals do in a borough like this here Brocksopp, for instance, where its factories, and works, and mills, and such like, are held by rich folk as ought to be Lib'rals and is Tories?"

"Why ought they?" asked Mr. Croke; and while his interlocutor was gathering up his answer, old Croke added, "I'm all for argeyment! I'm a Tory mysel', as all my house have been, but I like to see a opp'sition in everything, and a proper fight, not one-sided 'lections, such as we have seen! Well, Muster Spalding, and why should our rich party folk be Lib'rals and not Tories?"

"Because," said Mr. Spalding, fanning away the smoke from before him, and speaking with great deliberation, "because they sprung from the people, and therefore their symp'ties should be wi' those of whom they were afore they became rich."

"Like enough, like enough, neighbour Spalding. That's what's called mo-rality, that is; but it's not common sense! Common sense is, that it's lucky they grew rich; they becam' Tories, which is the same thing as meaning they wanted their money taken care of."

"Ay, ay, that's it, Croke!" said Farmer Adams. "You've just hit the way to put 'un! Lib'rals, when they've got nothing and want everything, Tories when they've got something and want to take care of it."

"Well, but what's Tories goin' to do this time?" asked Mr. Moule, a maltster in the town. "Our presen' member, Sir George Neal, won't stand again! Told me so his own self last time he was in town for quarter sessions—say's he's too old. My 'pinion is his wife won't let 'un. He's a rum 'un, is Sir George, and when he gets up to London by himself, he goes it, they du say!"

"Nansense, Moule! I wunner at a man o' your sense talkin' such stuff," said Farmer Croke. "That's playin' the Lib'ral game, that is!—though I hev understood that Sir George won't come forrerd again."

"And the Lib'rals is going to mek a tre-menjous struggle this time, I've heerd," observed Moule.

"Who are they goin' to bring forrerd, hev you heerd?" asked Mr. Spalding, with interest.

"Well, I did hear, but I've a'most forgot," said Mr. Moule, who was of a misty and a muddled nature. "No, now I reck'lect, it was young Bokenham!"

"What, son of old Tom Bokenham of Blott's Mills?" asked Mr. Spalding.

"That same! Old man's terrible rich, they du say; firm was Bokenham and Sculthorpe, but Sculthorpe broke his leg huntin' wi' Squire Peacock's harriers, and has been out of business for some time."

"He's just built two saw-mills in Galabin-street, hasn't he?" asked Mr. Croke.

"He has, and that plant in Harmer's-row is his too. Young Bill, he's lawyer up in London—lawyer they say, tho' I thowt he was a parson, as they told me he lives in a Temple, and he's wonderful clever in speakin' at club-meetin's and such like, and they du say that he's not only a Lib'ral,