“GOING THE WHOLE HOG.”

A serious riot has occurred at the town pump, where two of the independent teetotalers have been ducked by the opposite party. Stones are beginning to fly in all directions. A general row is expected.

Nine o’clock.—Polling has commenced. Tom Daly, of Galway, the fighting friend of Mr. Figsby, has just arrived, with three brace of duelling pistols, and a carpet-bag full of powder and ball. This looks like business. I have heard that six of Mr. Figsby’s voters have been locked up in a barn by Griggles’ people. The poll is proceeding vigorously.

Ten o’clock.—State of the poll to this time:—

Figsby19
Griggles22

The most barefaced bribery is being employed by Griggles. A lady, known to be in his interest, was seen buying half-a-pound of tea, in the shop of Mr. Fad, the grocer, for which she paid with a whole sovereign, and took no change. Two legs of mutton have also been sent up to Griggles’ house, by Reilly, the butcher. Heaven knows what will be the result. The voting is become serious—four men with fractured skulls have, within these ten minutes, been carried into the apothecary’s over the way. A couple of policemen have been thrown over the bridge; but we are in too great a state of agitation to mind trifles.

Half-past Twelve o’clock.—State of the poll to this time:—

Figsby27
Griggles36

You can have no idea of the frightful state of the town. The faction are employing all sorts of bribery and intimidation. The wife of a liberal greengrocer has just been seen with the Griggles ribbons in her cap. Five pounds have been offered for a sucking-pig. Figsby must come in, notwithstanding two cart-loads of the temperance voters are now riding up to the poll, most of them being too drunk to walk. Three duels have been this morning reported. Results not known. The coroner has been holding inquests in the market-house all the morning.

Three o’clock.—State of the poll to this time:—