the people. And it so happens that down here we always take a glass
of grog before inaugurating an era; we should as soon think of
praetermitting this as of launching a ship without cracking a bottle
on her stem. So we asked the Chairman, and finding there was no law
to prevent us, we ordered in half a dozen trays from the "King of
Prussia," across the way. The Vicar, who is a particular man about
his food and drink, pulled out a pocket Vesuvius and a bottle of
methylated spirit, and boiled his kettle in the ante-room.

Well, there we were sitting in the Town Hall, as merry as grigs,
each man with his pipe and glass, and ready for any amount of
Self-Government. And the Chairman stood up and briefly explained the
business of the meeting. He said the Parish Councils Act was the
logical result of Magna Charta, and would have the effect of making
us all citizens of our own parish; and that as the expense of this
would come upon the rates, we should endeavour to use our hardly won
enfranchisement with moderation. "We had met to choose eleven good
men and true to administer the parish business for the coming year,
or to nominate as many good men and true as we pleased. If more than
eleven were nominated"--this was foolishness, for he could see there
was hardly a man in the room that hadn't a nomination paper in his
hand--"he would ask for a show of hands, and any candidate defeated
upon this might demand a poll. He hoped we would vote in no spirit
of sectarian or partisan bitterness, but as impartial citizens
jealous only for the common weal; at the same time he was not in
favour of letting down the Squire, Sir Felix Felix-Williams, too
easily."

So we handed up our nomination papers, and while the Chairman and
overseers were checking them off by the register, Old Pilot James got