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"Say something for yourself!" bawled another, who looked very like a tinker.

"Hear me, then !" cried the doctor.

"No, we won't!" from the tinker, who had just before adjured him to speak.

"Hear Pigwidgeon!"
"Hear Medlicott!"
"A bas, Pigviggin !"

A rush was made at the Frenchman by a flight of the Magpies, but a flock of the Parrots came to his aid, and there was a wild engagement for some minutes, during which the umbrella again did conspicuous duty on the side of the Reubenites. When the fray was over, Mr. Pigwidgeon attempted once more to get a hearing. At the same moment, the restless Adolphe, assisted by Mr. Broad's foreman, displayed a blue silk banner of enormous size, upon which the fingers of Louise had embroidered, in huge scarlet letters, the words—

"Hurrah for Medlicott, the World's Friend!"

Scarcely was it unfolded before it was torn to a hundred shreds by the excited Magpies; but another flag was in readiness, inscribed

"Medlicott, and Universal Sympathy !"

"Universal humbug!" screamed a dozen Pigwidgeonites; and the second flag met the fate of the first, after a somewhat longer scramble, during which some heads were broken, if any faith was to be placed in sounds.

The orator made a final effort after this last episode, and was proceeding to tell the constituency what good things he would give them in return for their votes. If they liked cheap bread, he was the man to provide it for them. If they liked cheap sugar, he would give it to them also. If they fancied cheap tea and coffee-"

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Perhaps you would fancy a cheap egg," cried a fellow, lying in ambush in a corner with a basket of them, and flinging, as he spoke, one of those highly constitutional missiles with aim so fair that it struck the candidate right on his breast, and instantly delivering its liquid contents, provided him with a buff waistcoat, to the infinite satisfaction of the Parrots, and the amusement of not a few of the Magpies themselves. But this was a game at which two parties could play. There was an opposition egg-store in another corner of the court-house. A battle of eggs ensued. Eggs flew like the fowl they were designed by

nature to bring into the world, unless we suppose that the uses
of a contested election were among those which Providence ex-
pressly contemplated in ordaining the generation of birds. Eggs
darkened the air. Eggs flew like shot in a battle, or rather like
shells, only that they were not charged with such deadly ingre-
dients. Sometimes in the tug of war a Magpie's egg met a Par-
rot's egg, and the momentum of each being instantly destroyed by
the other, the united yolks and albumens fell, in a torrent of whits
and yellow, upon the head of some unlucky pot-walloper in the
crowd. Several burgesses looked as if they had bay wigs; others
as if their hats had fallen into basins of batter for pancakes. Some
more unfortunate wights received the discharge in a more direct
and unpleasant fashion; indeed, on all parts of their persons,
even their noses and mouths, which disgusted them beyond
measure with such practical joking, and made them perceive, in a
twinkling, how grossly indecent pranks of the kind were on the
solemn occasion of an election. It was well for Reuben that the
storm of eggs was subsided, and the elements of it spent, before
his turn came to take his place in front of the hustings. But if
he was not so bespattered with one kind of nastiness as his oppo-
nent, he got even more of another. He was assailed with a thou-
sand opprobrious imputations, supplied by Mr. Griffin's articles.
"Who burned his grandfather's house?"

"Are you a parson, or a lawyer? What are you?"
"He's a Quaker, you won't do for us, friend Reuben!"
"He's a Jack-of-all-trades !"

"What are you now, Mr. Medlicott ?"

66 Play us a tune on the fiddle !"

"Who ran away with his grandmother?" "Have you her love-letters about you?" "Gentlemen!"-cried Reuben imploringly, hear me speak”

66

one word

"That's all you can do: it's not speeches we want!"
"One word, in common justice."-

"No Parrots for us!" shouted the political tinker.
"No Magpies !" roared the free-born cobbler.
"Gentlemen! if you send me into the House"-

"But we won't!"

"Yes we will! we will! Three cheers for Mr. Medlicott. Mr. Medlicott, the friend of the world!" vociferated Dr. Page, with a voice that put all other voices down, and triumphed, for a moment, completely over the general din.

Reuben now thought his time was come for a hearing, but in vain; for the other party must cheer their candidate also, and in cheering him they displayed a banner with the motto, "Pigwidgeon, and Purity of Election !" which-so exasperated the Medlicott faction that they made a furious onset to get possession of the flag; stones were flung on both sides, and a fray commenced which soon became so serious that a body of special constables were hastily sworn in, and the court-house was cleared by order of the magistrates.

Mr. Medlicott was so well surrounded and stoutly guarded, by a troop of his friends, that he suffered little more in the tumult than the loss of his bouquet and the derangement of his hair; but Mr. Broad had his coat torn to ribbons; Dr. Page was reduced literally to rags; and poor Mr. Beauvoisin was nearly in the same condition, besides losing his umbrella, which had performed such exploits. Upon the other side, Mr. Pigwidgeon thought himself well off to escape with a black eye; while as to his immediate satellites, there was scarcely a whole coat, or an integral pair of inexpressibles, among them all.

In this condition of affairs the candidates went to the poll, the result of which has been already intimated. Mr. Pigwidgeon had scarcely fifty votes, after all his expenditure of breath and money. He pretended, of course, that the electors who had promised him were either corrupted or intimidated by Mr. Medlicott; and formally protesting against all the proceedings, made a precipitate and prudent retreat from the town.

His disappearance restored comparative peace and order; his party, wanting a leader, shrunk into instant insignificance; they seemed even to have lost the power of shouting, for when Mr. Medlicott, reaching the goal of his ambition, was declared by the Sheriff the successful candidate, and one of the sitting members for Chichester, the speech which he made to return thanks was not only patiently heard, but enthusiastically received and applauded by an immense concourse of the citizens.

So tranquil was the meeting, that his mother, wife, and mother-in-law, accompanied by the radiant Madame Beauvoisin, were conducted by Mr. Cox to the self-same seats in the gallery of the court-house which they had occupied many years before to witness Reuben's first oratorical display. There was not a more joyful mother in England at that instant than the elder Mrs. Medlicott. She recollected in this hour of justifiable exultation the flattering parallel which Mr. Primrose had once drawn

between herself and a celebrated Roman mother; and though there was nothing particularly pathetic in any part of the speech which her son made upon that occasion, it nevertheless brought tears into the eyes of our English Cornelia; nor were hers the only moist ones of the party; it was observable that Reuben's tender and teeming little wife pulled down her veil more than once while he was speaking, probably moved by similar feelings of pride and rapture, and affected in the same natural manner.

But the blisses and triumphs of the matrons, great as they were, were destined to be still greater in the course of that memorable evening. Not many hours elapsed after the chairing (which was a peaceful, though a noisy ceremony), before Mary Medlicott made the heart of every human being under the Vicar's roof, and many a heart under other roofs besides, tingle and leap with joy, by selecting that auspicious day to bring a son into the world. The church bells had scarcely done ringing for Reuben's political victory, when they were set agoing again in acknowledgment of his domestic achievements.

"Sure such a day as this was never seen," said the benevolent and jolly Mr. Oldport, who made all the haste in his power, considering his corns and his corpulency, to congratulate his friend upon the accumulation of blessings in his family.

"This day, Oh! Mr. Doodle, is a day indeed," replied the Vicar; "let us have a magnum of my oldest port to celebrate it. Come, Mr. Cox, come, Doctor, come all our sympathising friends; and you, Reuben, lay aside your senatorial dignity, and set the round table and glasses under the walnut-tree. Your mother shall bring us the new citizen of Chichester, and we will drink his health and safe arrival in a bumper."

Mrs. Medlicott, as usual, appeared the moment she was talked of, carrying in her arms the illustrious little stranger, of whom she was as vain as if she had borne him herself, and in whose forehead she had already discovered all the protuberances indicative of the most brilliant talents.

The child was enthusiastically admired, and his father was overwhelmed with applause.

The Canon held his glass so awkwardly while he contemplated the infant prodigy, that some drops of the rosy liquor overflowed and fell on the child's face.

"A jolly christening," said Mr. Cox to Reuben, "your son, sir, is baptised with port." There was great laughing at the incident.

"What shall we call him?" said Reuben.

"Chichester, to be sure," said Dr. Page.

And that most appropriate name was accordingly given to the boy, with the unanimous consent of everybody whose consent was necessary, although the ceremony of baptism was performed afterwards in London, with all becoming regularity and state.

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