they will, too, if you allow them." ("We never
will") "In a word, they desire to take from us
all we love best, to remove the old landmarks
of those things which were so dear to us."

On the whole, Mr. Mellam's speech, delivered
in a very earnest business-like way, was a
decided success, and was closed with several
rounds of applause from the small regiment of
electors who obeyed my signals. When he
had finished Captain Streatham came forward.

The handkerchief in my left hand brought
forth a storm of hisses, groans, chaff, and slang.
Captain Streatham took it all very good
naturedly, his own supporters—that is, the mass
of them—being too far off, or too rudely
hustled by our people, to afford him any help.
I was too good a general to allow the signs
of disapprobation to continue very long, and
the moment I put up my handkerchief my
followers were silent. The captain was
evidently, in the strictest sense of the word,
unaccustomed to public speaking. He addressed
his hearers in a jaunty, off-hand style, which
did not please them, although his good temper
and evident determination not to be annoyed
with his audience, certainly told in his favour.
The difficult point for him to get over was the
cottagers' almshouse question. The moment
he approached it, out came my pocket-
handkerchief in my left hand, and the groans, hisses,
catcalls, and slang were renewed. Now and
again I would give him the chance of saying a
few words; but as these were invariably distasteful
to the great mass of his hearers, I invariably
caused the marks of disapprobation to be
renewed. When the day was over even the reporter
of the Independent was obliged to admit that
very little of Captain Streatham's address could
be heard except by those on the hustings.

When the speeches were over, the mayor
came forward and called for a show of hands
in favour of each candidate. These were, by
a majority of nearly ten to one, in favour of
Mr. Mellam.  And as the whole of the mob
surrounding the hustings were more or less in
our pay, or at any rate had drunk our beer, it
would have been a miracle had there been any
other result. Of course Captain Streatham's
party demanded a poll, which was fixed by the
mayor for the following Friday. This gave both
sides two clear days to prepare for the struggle.

The qualified electors of Northenville, when,
as they say of a ship's crew, "all told,"
amounted to eighteen hundred and forty-seven.
Of these I calculated that we might safely set
down ten per cent, as abroad, or men who did
not care to vote; this reduced them in round
numbers to about sixteen hundred. From the
pledges I had received, and the assurances that
had been made me, I calculated that our side
might safely reckon upon seven hundred and
fifty votes, and that our adversaries had perhaps
as many, leaving a hundred votes or so to be
bid for, or got over by some means, and so I
determined to make the best use of my time,
and work up my forces so as to make the most
of our party's strength.

The whole body of electors were divided in
my book into three lists—friends, enemies, and
doubtful. It was the latter, which I calculated
as amounting to about a hundred, that I
determined Mr. Mellam should canvass with me on
the Wednesday and Thursday. Most of them
were shopkeepers, and I found out, very much
to my disgust, that Lady Vance had already
been amongst them, and that several whom I
hoped to carry with us to the poll were pledged
to the other party. Still we gained some votes,
at a cost, taking one with another, of ten pounds
a head. In many cases we called at a house, and
perhaps bought a canary, or a parrot, or a
dog, for, say, five pounds, leaving our purchase
with the seller until we should send for it:
which meant, of course, that it would remain
with its former owner for ever. Many persons
who are not behind the scenes in election
matters, believe that bribery is a thing of history;
but those who manage these affairs know
better. Of course Mr. Mellam never saw or
heard of any bribery going on. All he did was
to provide me with money for "sundry"
expenses. If I paid five pounds for a bulfinch
that cost as many pence, or gave ten pounds for
a terrier that would have been dear at five
shillings, he knew nothing of it—at least, not
officially. I was the person who bought everything
thing, and who made presents to those from
whom I could not purchase. Sometimes—and
this is a very politic stroke in electioneering—
the present is made through a child. The party
that is canvassing goes into a house, and finds
that the wife only is at home. You ask how the
husband is going to vote, and are told that he
has not yet made up his mind. There is a
child; you admire it, ask its age, wonder that
it is so large for its years, say that you have one
of your own, just that age, but not half so
large. The woman's heart is gained, and you
may depend that her husband's vote is half
won. You ask why the child is not better
dressed; the woman says she can't afford to
give it better clothes. You inquire whether a
five-pound note would not fit out her child, and
herself, with Sunday clothes. She says it
would, and do more besides. You give her the
money, praise her child again, talk of indifferent
matters, and take your leave, saying you hope
her husband will vote for your candidate.
Depend upon it that vote is yours, and that when
you inspect the voting list the name of that
woman's husband will be found recorded on
your side.

Another way of getting votes is through the
local loan societies. Find out the names of electors
who are in debt to any of these institutions,
and the amount they owe. Pay off the
debts of these debtors, and depend upon it their
votes are yours.

Twice during the two days that were left to
us I met Lady Vance, who seemed to be very
busy visiting amongst some of the electors, or
rather their wives. On the Thursday, as I
made out by my lists and calculations, our side
could rely upon a certain majority of fifty, or