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was all very well; but what was the King to the Lord Mayor! When
the King made a speech; everybody knew it was somebody else's
writing; whereas here was the Lord Mayor; talking away for half an
hour…all out of his own head … amidst the enthusiastic applause of
the whole company; while it was notorious that the King might talk
to his parliament till he was black in the face without getting so
much as a single cheer。 As all these reflections passed through
the mind of Mr。 Nicholas Tulrumble; the Lord Mayor of London
appeared to him the greatest sovereign on the face of the earth;
beating the Emperor of Russia all to nothing; and leaving the Great
Mogul immeasurably behind。
Mr。 Nicholas Tulrumble was pondering over these things; and
inwardly cursing the fate which had pitched his coal…shed in
Mudfog; when the letter of the corporation was put into his hand。
A crimson flush mantled over his face as he read it; for visions of
brightness were already dancing before his imagination。
'My dear;' said Mr。 Tulrumble to his wife; 'they have elected me;
Mayor of Mudfog。'
'Lor…a…mussy!' said Mrs。 Tulrumble: 'why what's become of old
Sniggs?'
'The late Mr。 Sniggs; Mrs。 Tulrumble;' said Mr。 Tulrumble sharply;
for he by no means approved of the notion of unceremoniously
designating a gentleman who filled the high office of Mayor; as
'Old Sniggs;' … 'The late Mr。 Sniggs; Mrs。 Tulrumble; is dead。'
The communication was very unexpected; but Mrs。 Tulrumble only
ejaculated 'Lor…a…mussy!' once again; as if a Mayor were a mere
ordinary Christian; at which Mr。 Tulrumble frowned gloomily。
'What a pity 'tan't in London; ain't it?' said Mrs。 Tulrumble;
after a short pause; 'what a pity 'tan't in London; where you might
have had a show。'
'I MIGHT have a show in Mudfog; if I thought proper; I apprehend;'
said Mr。 Tulrumble mysteriously。
'Lor! so you might; I declare;' replied Mrs。 Tulrumble。
'And a good one too;' said Mr。 Tulrumble。
'Delightful!' exclaimed Mrs。 Tulrumble。
'One which would rather astonish the ignorant people down there;'
said Mr。 Tulrumble。
'It would kill them with envy;' said Mrs。 Tulrumble。
So it was agreed that his Majesty's lieges in Mudfog should be
astonished with splendour; and slaughtered with envy; and that such
a show should take place as had never been seen in that town; or in
any other town before; … no; not even in London itself。
On the very next day after the receipt of the letter; down came the
tall postilion in a post…chaise; … not upon one of the horses; but
inside … actually inside the chaise; … and; driving up to the very
door of the town…hall; where the corporation were assembled;
delivered a letter; written by the Lord knows who; and signed by
Nicholas Tulrumble; in which Nicholas said; all through four sides
of closely…written; gilt…edged; hot…pressed; Bath post letter
paper; that he responded to the call of his fellow…townsmen with
feelings of heartfelt delight; that he accepted the arduous office
which their confidence had imposed upon him; that they would never
find him shrinking from the discharge of his duty; that he would
endeavour to execute his functions with all that dignity which
their magnitude and importance demanded; and a great deal more to
the same effect。 But even this was not all。 The tall postilion
produced from his right…hand top…boot; a damp copy of that
afternoon's number of the county paper; and there; in large type;
running the whole length of the very first column; was a long
address from Nicholas Tulrumble to the inhabitants of Mudfog; in
which he said that he cheerfully complied with their requisition;
and; in short; as if to prevent any mistake about the matter; told
them over again what a grand fellow he meant to be; in very much
the same terms as those in which he had already told them all about
the matter in his letter。
The corporation stared at one another very hard at all this; and
then looked as if for explanation to the tall postilion; but as the
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tall postilion was intently contemplating the gold tassel on the
top of his yellow cap; and could have afforded no explanation
whatever; even if his thoughts had been entirely disengaged; they
contented themselves with coughing very dubiously; and looking very
grave。 The tall postilion then delivered another letter; in which
Nicholas Tulrumble informed the corporation; that he intended
repairing to the town…hall; in grand state and gorgeous procession;
on the Monday afternoon next ensuing。 At this the corporation
looked still more solemn; but; as the epistle wound up with a
formal invitation to the whole body to dine with the Mayor on that
day; at Mudfog Hall; Mudfog Hill; Mudfog; they began to see the fun
of the thing directly; and sent back their compliments; and they'd
be sure to come。
Now there happened to be in Mudfog; as somehow or other there does
happen to be; in almost every town in the British dominions; and
perhaps in foreign dominions too … we think it very likely; but;
being no great traveller; cannot distinctly say … there happened to
be; in Mudfog; a merry…tempered; pleasant…faced; good…for…nothing
sort of vagabond; with an invincible dislike to manual labour; and
an unconquerable attachment to strong beer and spirits; whom
everybody knew; and nobody; except his wife; took the trouble to
quarrel with; who inherited from his ancestors the appellation of
Edward Twigger; and rejoiced in the SOBRIQUET of Bottle…nosed Ned。
He was drunk upon the average once a day; and penitent upon an
equally fair calculation once a month; and when he was penitent; he
was invariably in the very last stage of maudlin intoxication。 He
was a ragged; roving; roaring kind of fellow; with a burly form; a
sharp wit; and a ready head; and could turn his hand to anything
when he chose to do it。 He was by no means opposed to hard labour
on principle; for he would work away at a cricket…match by the day
together; … running; and catching; and batting; and bowling; and
revelling in toil which would exhaust a galley…slave。 He would
have been invaluable to a fire…office; never was a man with such a
natural taste for pumping engines; running up ladders; and throwing
furniture out of two…pair…of…stairs' windows: nor was this the
only element in which he was at home; he was a humane society in
himself; a portable drag; an animated life…preserver; and had saved
more people; in his time; from drowning; than the Plymouth life…
boat; or Captain Manby's apparatus。 With all these qualifications;
notwithstanding his dissipation; Bottle…nosed Ned was a general
favourite; and the authorities of Mudfog; remembering his numerous
services to the population; allowed him in return to get drunk in
his own way; without the fear of stocks; fine; or imprisonment。 He
had a general licence; and he showed his sense of the compliment by
making the most of it。
We have been thus particular in describing the character and
avocations of Bottle…nosed Ned; because it enables us to introduce
a fact politely; without hauling it into the reader's presence with
indecent haste by the head and shoulders; and brings us very
naturally to relate; that on the very same evening on which Mr。
Nicholas Tulrumble and family returned to Mudfog; Mr。 Tulrumble's
new secretary; just imported from London; with a pale face and
light whiskers; thrust his head down to the very bottom of his
neckcloth…tie; in at the tap…room door of the Lighterman's Arms;
and inquiring whether one Ned Twigger was luxuriating within;
announced himself as the bearer of a message from Nicholas
Tulrumble; Esquire; requiring Mr。 Twigger's immediate attendance at
the hall; on private and particular business。 It being by no means
Mr。 Twigger's interest to affront the Mayor; he rose from the
fireplace with a slight sigh; and followed the light…whiskered
secretary through the dirt and wet of Mudfog streets; up to Mudfog
Hall; without further ado。
Mr。 Nicholas Tulrumble was seated in a small cavern with a
skylight; which he called his library; sketching out a plan of the
procession on a large sheet of paper; and into the cavern the
secretary ushered Ned Twigger。
'Well; Twigger!' said Nicholas Tulrumble; condescendingly。
There was a time when Twigger would have replied; 'Well; Nick!' but
that was in the days of the truck; and a couple of years before the
donkey; so; he only bowed。
'I want you to go into training; Twigger;' said Mr。 Tulrumble。
'What for; sir?' inquired Ned; with a stare。
'Hush; hush; Twigger!' said the Mayor。 'Shut the door; Mr。
Jennings。 Look here; Twigger。'
As the Mayor said this; he unlocked a high closet; and disclosed a
complete suit of brass armour; of gigantic dimensions。
'I want you to wear this next Monday; Twigger;' said the May