mudfog+-第2章

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Nicholas　Tulrumble　just　then；　and　Nicholas　Tulrumble　being　a　very

important　man；　they　elected　him；　and　wrote　off　to　London　by　the

very　next　post　to　acquaint　Nicholas　Tulrumble　with　his　new

elevation。



Now；　it　being　November　time；　and　Mr。　Nicholas　Tulrumble　being　in

the　capital；　it　fell　out　that　he　was　present　at　the　Lord　Mayor's

show　and　dinner；　at　sight　of　the　glory　and　splendour　whereof；　he；

Mr。　Tulrumble；　was　greatly　mortified；　inasmuch　as　the　reflection

would　force　itself　on　his　mind；　that；　had　he　been　born　in　London

instead　of　in　Mudfog；　he　might　have　been　a　Lord　Mayor　too；　and　have

patronized　the　judges；　and　been　affable　to　the　Lord　Chancellor；　and

friendly　with　the　Premier；　and　coldly　condescending　to　the

Secretary　to　the　Treasury；　and　have　dined　with　a　flag　behind　his

back；　and　done　a　great　many　other　acts　and　deeds　which　unto　Lord

Mayors　of　London　peculiarly　appertain。　　The　more　he　thought　of　the

Lord　Mayor；　the　more　enviable　a　personage　he　seemed。　　To　be　a　King

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　s