At a meeting of the tax-collectors of the W— R—g of —shire, held in one of the cells beneath the Town Hall it was proposed, "That we, the tax gatherers and rate collectors of the W— R—g of —shire do intend to throw up our offices, unless our wages are reduced or our labours increased, for being like unto other men, possessed of consciences, we are frequently tormented with the thought, that we are receiving more than what is our due, and by that means wronging the public." Mr. Christopher Delphian moved as an amendment, "that they should dispose of their consciences, that being a readier way of getting over the difficulty." The chairman put the amendment which was carried, and the consciences were sold in one lot, for 7 3/4 d., which was carried to the fund for the entertainment of Mr. Calcraft, the president, whenever he should visit the district on a professional tour.
New Year's Parties.
Its net oft at aw have mich to do wi' parties. Th' fact is aw'm wed, an' young fowk dooant want me, becoss they say aw've made my markets, an' wed fowk dooant oft ax me becoss aw suppose aw dooant oft ax them. But this month last year aw did get a invite to a doo, an' aw went. Aw'st net forget in a hurry what a fidget my owd woman gate into. Shoo brushed me daan aboon a duzzen times, an' turned me raand like a rooastin jack to see ha aw luk'd, woll aw wor as mazy as a wheel heead, an' th' childer luk'd up i' my face two or three times afoor they could believe it wor me. Aw heeard awr Abram telling Betty 'at "he believed his fayther wor gooin to get kursen'd or summat." "Ho eeah! why what are they baan to call him?" shoo says. "Nay, aw dooant know, but my mother's been callin' him 'gaumless,' happen that's it."
Gaumless enuff aw thowt, an' after rubbin' my hat raand wi' a weet sponge (woll th' wife declared it wor as hansum as a Japan tea caddy), aw set off. Aw seized howd o'th' nob when aw gate to th' door, an' aw gave a gooid pawse, same as aw do at hooam, A fine young gentleman oppen'd it, an' after starin' at me for two or three minits, he said, "Walk in, sur." Aw doff'd my hat an' did soa; an' he! what a smell! "By gow, lad," aw said, "its enuff to mak my maath watter is this, ther's nowt awm fonder on nor onions, an' aw con smell ther's some cookin'—they'll be frying some liver, aw dar say. Are ta th' maister's lad?" aw axed. "Noa, sur," he said; "a'wm th' waiter." "Why tha needn't wait o' me," aw said, "aw'll luk after mysel." "Come this way, sur." he said, "aw'll introduce yo'. What name shall aw say, sur?" "Does ta think aw am not known?" aw says; "nah aw'll tell thi what it is: if tha keeps diddlin after me like tha has done sin' aw come in, as if tha thowt aw wanted to stail summat, awst just twist thi neck raand." Th' maister heeard me tawkin, an' coom to shake hands wi' me, smilin' all ovver his face delightedly. He hook'd his arm i' mine, an' walked me into a grand raam full o' ladies an' waiters (aw made 'em aat to be waiters coss they wor dressed like him 'at stood at th' door.) "This is my old friend, the Almenack maker," he said, an' they all gate up an' sat daan agean. When aw luk'd raand aw thowt, "Aw'm in for it this time," for aw could mak it aat to be nowt but a meetin' to kursen a lot o' childer', an' varry likely they wanted me to stand godfayther for 'em. Aw saw noa babbies ony-where, but then aw'd heeard fowk tell abaat th' quality havin' weet nurses for ther bairns, an' aw made it aat 'at thease must be um, on accaant o'th' way they wor dressed, for they wor all i' white, an' ther's nowt easier weshed, an' aw thowt to mysen, "Aw'll tell my owd woman to have her gaon made i' th' same pattern when shoo's ony more to suckle, for it must save a deal o' trouble, an' be for ivver better nor havin' a lot o' hooks an' eyes botherin' abaat th' child's face." But thear aw sat, an' as noabody said owt to me, aw said nowt to noabody. In a bit ivery body began pairin' off, an' th' maister says, "Come, my friend, you must take a lady to dinner," an' a reight grand young woman coom an' tuk howd o' mi arm, an' we follow'd aat i' prussesshun, like they do at a burrin. When we gate into th' next raam aw fan aat mi mistak abaat all th' chaps being waiters, for they sat daan to th' table same as th' maister an' me, soa aw thowt varry likely they wor locals, or summat i'th' missionary line. Aw niver saw as mich stuff to ait i' all my life, except in a cook shop. "Shall I pass you a little soup," said th' maister? "Noa, thank yo," aw said, "aw weshed me afoor aw coom." "Not soap, my good friend, I mean soup," he said. "Oh! broth, is it? Aw did'nt know what yo ment. Eeah, aw'll tak a soop o' broth, if yo please, an' a bit o' suet dumplin,' if yo have a bit." When aw said soa, a lot began a cough in', the same as if they'd a boan i' ther throit, an' th' maister oppened sich a shop 'at aw thowt th' top ov his heead had come off, but aw reckoned to tak noa noatice an' aw worked away wi my gapin' stick woll th' maister axed me ha aw liked my ox tail soup. "Dun yo call this ox tail soup," aw said, an' aw beld up a caah tooith ommust big enuff to mak a knife heft. Aw thowt it war a gooid joak, but noabody else seem'd to see it, an' th' mistress ordered th' waiter to tak it away instantum.
When we'd all etten woll we' wor om most brussen they browt a lot o' black bottles wi' silver necks in, an' we'd all a glass o' some sooart o' pop. By th' heart an' it wor pop too. "Dun yo mak this yoursen, mistress?" aw axed. "By gingo, this licks awr traitle drink into fits, yo mun give me th' resait, if yo have it." "This is shampane, sur," shoo said. "Aw dooant care whether it's sham or not, it's as gooid as owt o'th' sooart aw've tasted, aw'll thank you for another drop," "Help yourself, my friend," said th' maister, an aw did, aboon a bit, but ha long aw wor at it or ha monny bottles aw emptied aw niver knew, for some ha aw fell asleep, an' when aw wakken'd aw wor at hooam, an' my owd wornan wor callin aat, "Are ta baan'ta get up, yond's th' last whew."
Smiles, Tears, Getting on.
Smiles are things aw like to see, an'. they're noa less acceptable becoss sometimes ther's a tear or two. A chap at's a heart ov a reight sooart under his waistcoit cannot allus be smilin'. Awve met a deal o' sooarts o' fowk i' my bit o' time, an' th' best aw iver met had a tear i' ther ee nah an' then. If ther's owt aw hate to see, its a chap at's allus smilin'; an' if iver yo meet sich a one set him daan to be awther a haufthick or a hypocrite—yo'll be sure to be reight. It'll be time enuff to be allus grinnin' when all th' warkhaases an' th' prisons are to let—when lawyers have to turn farmers, an' bumbaileys have to emigrate—when yo connot find a soldier's or a policeman's suit ov clooas, except in a museum—when ther's noa chllder fun frozen to th' deeath o' London Brig—an' when poor fowk get more beef an' less bullyin'. If iver sich a time comes woll aw live, aw'll laff wi' th' best on em, but till then a claad sometimes will settle on mi here,—an awm glad 'at it is soa.
Aw niver see a chap 'at's tryin to get on but what he reminds me ov once gooin to a Baptist chapel to see a lot o' fowk kursened. Everybody wor feightin' for th' front pews, an' them 'at gate 'em had to haddle e'm an' net be perticular abaat ther shirt collar—an' when a chap starts aat for a front place i' this life he has to rough it, an' if he succeeds aw wonder sometimes if he's ony better off nor them 'at gate th' front seeats i'th' chapel, for all 'at wor behund 'em seem'd to be tryin' to shove 'em ovver into th' bottom, an' nah an' then aw noaticed odd uns 'at could bide noa longer, an' gave up th' spot they'd fowt soa hard to get, an' sombdy behund, 'at had hardly tewd a bit dropt into th' seat. And sich is life: it isn't allus th' workers 'at succeed, net it marry! its th' skeeamers! it's them 'at keeps ther een oppen. But aw con allus thoil 'em owt they get, if, when they're climbin' up th' stee, they niver put ther heel on another chap's neck, by traidin' on his fingers, to mak him lawse his hold. It's a wrang nooation 'at some fowk have getten, to "get brass honestly if yo can, an' if yo cannot, try to keep a easy conscience, an' do baat it." Some chaps 'll niver get on; they're allus gooin' to mend, but they niver start. Sich like should tak a pattern throo th' Almenack makkers—they've lost eighteen haars this last three years, an' if they didn't mind they'd loise six mooar this time, but they tak care net to do soa,—they shove a day extra into February to mak it up, and they call it "leap year," and it ud be a rare gooid job if fowk wod tak a few laups this year;—laup aat o'th' alehouse on to th' hearthstun at home—laup aat o' bed i' time for th' church ov a Sunday momin'—laup aat o' th' clutches o' th' strap shop—laup aat o' th' gate o' bad company—laup up to yo're wark wi' a smile, an' laup back hooam wi' it, an' yo'll find th' wife's heart ul laup wi joy to see yo comin' back cheerful, an' th' childer ul laup on to yo'r knee, an' yo'll be capt ha easy it'll be to laup over ony bits o' trouble 'at yo' meet wi'. But alus laup forrard if it's possible; for if yo try to laup backards yo'll run th' risk o' braikin yo'r neck, an' noabody pities them 'at laups aat o' th' fryin' pan into th' fire, an' it's a easy matter to miss it.—Aa dear o' me! aw think it is!—and yo'd think soa if yo'd seen what aw saw once. A mate o' mine courted a lass, an' he'd monny a miss afore he gat throo wi it. He used to go an' tawk to her throo a brokken window 'at ther wor i' th' weshhaase, an' one neet shoo'd promised to meet him thear, an' he wanted to kuss her as usual, but he started back. "Nay, Lucy," he said, "aw'm sure thar't nooan reight. Has ta been growin' a mustash?" Mew! mew! it went; an' he fan aat he'd kuss'd th' owd Tom cat. When th' neighbours gate to know, they kursened him "Kusscat," an' they call him soa yet. But that worn't all; for when he went to get wed he wor soa flustered woll he stood i' th' wrang place, an' when th' time coom for him to put th' ring on, he put it on th' woman next to him—he thowt it didn't mean, for he cud get it swap'd after, but when it wor ovver they all began to find aat ther'd been a mistak. "Why, Kusscat," said one, "what's ta been doin'? Tha' s getten wed to thi mother." Th' parson look'd glum, but he said, "It's noa use botherin' nah, its too lat, you should ha' spokken afoor—an' aw think he's fittest to be wi' his mother." But he roar'd like a bull, an' begged th' parson to do it ovver, an' do it reight; but Lucy said, "He'd noa cashion, for shoo'd live an' dee an owd maid for iver afoor shoo'd have ony chap second hand." But her heart worn't as hard as shoo thowt, soa, shoo gave in, an' th' next time they managed better.
Mysterious Disapperance.
A short time ago Mr. Fitzivitz, of Rank end, was seen to be swimming at a great rate and making a most extensive spread in the river plate. Several friends cautioned him not to go so far out of his depth, but he was utterly heedless of advice, he dived still deeper, and was observed to sink over head and ears in debt, leaving a large circle of friends to bewail his loss. His body has since been recovered, but all that could have comforted his anxious friends had fled, alas for ever.