MEETING OF THE DELEGATES. 661 



best an unendeared shelter ? Have not (raising his voice, and 

 spreading out his hands), hundreds shed the parting tear upon the 

 bosoms of their kindred, left their native homes, the hawthorn-sur- 

 rounded cottage, the green valleys where they played in childhood, 

 the woodbine-mantled lanes, the flowery woods, and turned with 

 tearful eyes to take a last, long, lonely, lingering, loving look of the 

 time-greyed, ivy-garlanded, moss-covered, grey-browed, sky-gazing 

 village spire, as it lifted on high its lonely head to gaze upon the 

 blue-browed horizon ; and have they not been wave-borne over the 

 big-bounding billows of the blustering-browed ocean ? (Is that 

 nought, Ned ?)" 



Dick grew warm in his eloquence, and proceede4 in this strain so 

 long, that, however it might enlighten the minds of the Leicester 

 Unionists, it by no means suits the limits of the Monthly Magazine ; 

 so, that we may proceed with the narrative, it need only be remarked, 

 that when Dick sprang from the table, and appealed to us if he had 

 not won the shilling, to prevent any disturbance, we proposed that 

 both the shillings should be spent in halfpenny cigars, so that we 

 might cut a swell in going and coming from the Union. And they 

 were unanimously declared the two greatest orators of the age, and 

 shook each other's hand in dignity. 



We again set out for the village of Chillwell, each smoking half- 

 penny cigars, and moving like zigzag lightening, for we had now 

 become gloriously drunk. 



" I say," said Ned, " don't you think the Unions ought to allow us 

 a conveyance suitable to the rank of Delegates, and not let us walk 

 like common slovens ?" 



"I'll tell you what," said Dick, if you've no objections, we'll hire 

 Joe Broomet's light cart you know the Unions pays for all. 



" Isn't yon his house ? " said the old blacksmith, whose optics had 

 gathered the power of seeing more than what really was visible. 



"No," said Dick, "it's a haystack." 



"Haystack !" echoed the Blacksmith, "why I can see the smoke 

 from the chimney." 



" Hold your tongue, you fool !" you can see the smoke from your 

 own cigar," said Dick. 



"I've just gotten a new idee," said the young Stockinger, "it's 

 original ; and 'ell come in just right in my speech." 



" What is it ?" asked one. " Come, let's hear." 



" It's an image," said he, "about smoke; and the flag of liberty 

 shall smoke as it dries in the sunshine, like a wet towel before a 



rousing fire." " Beautiful ! but here's Joe Broomet's house 



Dick, do you bargain for his light cart ?" 



" I will ;" said Dick, and rap tap he went at the old door. 



Bow, wow, wow, was the answer from the deep throat of a mastiff, 

 until it was hushed by a voice, saying, lay down, devil, will you ; 

 and old Joe opened the door : when out bounced the dog, and seized 

 the Blacksmith by his ventilated corderoys, in spite of Joe Broomet's 

 kicking, and pulling and swearing. 



" Thou's done somet at that dog sum time or other," said Joe, " else 

 he wouldn't hev flown at thee." 



