"Tawny and mean-looking: none of his clothes made for himnothing to be high about, that I can see," said Sniggers; "but to business again."

The business was, of course, the promise of a vote, which was given with much strong language, expressive of an apprehension for the spiritual welfare of those unfortunate beings to whom fate has unkindly given title and a rent-roll.

Tom and Sniggers were no sooner gone than in came the old Indian again. "Jones," said he.

"Yes, sir,"

"You have been canvassed, I suppose."

"Why, yes, sir; they are early in the field."

"So they are, confound 'em," said the Indian bitterly; "and you have given yourself to 'em, have you?"

"Why, sir-you see, sir-Mr. Sniggers-that is-I mean-" stammered the unfortunate host.

"I understand you-I thought so," broke in Mr. Scampton: "then you will have the kindness to let me have my bill-now-in an hour, if you please: I am going to look out another lodging."

"But, sir, you said you were very comfortable-bed-waiting-room -everything, sir."

"So I did—but your principles, sir-I can't stand your principles, sir: you will have the kindness to do as I say." And the Indian procured his hat, and sallied out into the street; leaving Mr. Jones (who had calculated upon a tolerable good picking from the Indian's full pocket and liberal ideas in the matter of provisions, and so forth) in a state not the most enviable in the world.

In an hour, the Indian had returned; and three minutes after, his baggage (which had been scarcely unpacked) had been seized and carried off by a porter, the bill settled, and the week's rent paid-and the lodgings were again empty.

We leave it to our married friends to paint from experience, in as vivid colours as they well can, the scene which ensued when good fat Mrs. Jones-coming home from a woman's tea-party, where she had been discoursing with great effect about their new lodger and his funny anecdotes -found that lodger, and his boxes, and his stories, and sundry gentle hopes of good "management," all vanished like a beautiful dream, "all along of her husband's tomfoolery about 'lections, and votings, and such like."

But with all this Sniggers got on very decently, and obtained enough promises to assure him that whether Mr. Timothy Winnegar obtained his seat in the Senate or not, his cause would at least make a good show of fight.

Although the first day of canvassing (the day on which the plot was hatched up between little Ada and her friend) had been a very busy one with Sniggers and Tom, yet the latter firmly declined the invitation of the former to "a pipe or so;" and went to argue his case with Ada, before retiring to rest.

CHAPTER VII.

The popular Member.

A few more days had passed, and Suffrage, and Sniggers, and the sapient men in committee had been working hard for Lower Fleecington and Timothy Winnegar, Esq. And these committee meetings were not the most quaker-like of assemblies in the world; for the men who composed them had probably never sat in Election Committee before, and hence arose untoward disputes regarding matters of discipline, and no less upon shades of opinion, which were various: so that the "Vice" was perpetually "reminding" the Chairman of something or other, and the Chairman was continually snubbing the "Vice;" and the Secretary was always "suggesting" and "proposing;" and the other members, instead of gravely going into accounts with intent to save Mr. Winnegar's pocket, were nagging away at one another about that worthy gentleman's opinions on every subject, quite as dogmatically as the wise men in the fable disputed about the colour of the chamelion!

was over.

And little Ada had been making the same time longer by wishing it Her father had not said a syllable more on the subject. Her uncle was as jolly as ever, and unrolled a fresh mat of Indian stories every night; never mentioning Tom Suffrage (that young gentleman and his unhappy vote being tabooed), with the single exception of relating to Mr. Brancrust how he came to change his lodgings-to the intense delight of that estimable old gentleman. Somehow, Ada wished her Indian uncle back again; and felt she could love him better were he, as he used to be, an unseen hope across thousands of salt-water miles. Tom, on the other hand, from having so much to think upon, had never a spare moment to think in, although there is no doubt that if he had he would have been very wretched. It was therefore perhaps a charity to him that Sniggers hurried him about from-we were going to say "from pillar to post," but there were few pillars in Lower Fleecington!

The energy of that Sniggers was somewhat surprising. He had, positively, within the last few days made himself the personal friend of all the blackguards in the place (gentle and simple), and he was also an immense fellow among the lowest of the non-electors-creatures who had

no such thing as a vote but yet had pretty strong voices of their own, and arms and shoulders tolerably gifted with muscle.

The friendship between Sniggers and these gentry was founded on "half-and-half," judiciously administered, and was cemented as firm as the hills by sundry "goes" of "hot within," until they were all, to a man, prepared to shout themselves hoarse for what they knew nothing about and did not care to know!

Mr. Winnegar, at the pre-suggestion of Sniggers, had suggested to his wise and energetic committee, that a neighbouring hamlet or two should be compelled to supply its share of these "freemen"-technically called "roughs," or "lambs"-for service on the nomination-day. The task of winning over these auxiliaries was also undertaken by Mr. Sniggers, and the bonds of beer, and grog, and inflammatory speeches, were again put into requisition: and by the means of their united sweet voices, and dirty paws, and broad shoulders, Mr. Winnegar fondly hoped to win the nomination, and then to prevent Mr. Grouseland and his party from obtaining even a view of the polling-booth till the day was over and the victory his!

Tom never ran about so much, or spoke and shouted so much, without his throat being dry as sawdust, and his legs weakly; but it was not so in this case for thought was certain misery, and when drinkables were abounding, it would be a very hard case indeed if thought could not get drowned in the Lethe of beer. As for Sniggers he was a perfect cometa human meteor-saving his whiskers, a perfect Mercury—a flying lawyer's clerk-the personified spirit of contention, in a fancy shirt and a Newmarket coat. At one moment he was scen in close discussion with a tradesman of the town; and presently he was holding a labourer by the button, and talking to him, in a hamlet a mile or so away. He abode in one quarter just long enough to let one know he was there, and before one could speak to him he had vanished “like an exhalation in the evening."

The contrast between the conduct of the two parties, who were to contend, was remarkable. Whilst the partisans of the Democratic section were running their legs off, and wearing out their lungs in the cause, the Conservatives had simply sent round a few canvassing-cards, to their old and tried supporters--had made no noise, had given no symptoms of banners being manufactured, or triumphal-arches being in contemplation; the only thing from which one might infer that an election was about to be, was the fact that a committee of landed individuals, of sober deportment and double chins, was sitting quietly, day after day, in the "Grouseland Arms Hotel ". '-a large dreary-looking hotel with one wing entirely shut up and the windows boarded, with an immense stable-yard where tufts of grass were loosening the stones and where fowls supplied

the places of post-horses and carriages, in fact a very sample of the tribe of inns that has been ruined by steam. In this quiet place the quiet committee sat, treating with silence the vigorous demonstrations of the other party: certainly this silence might either proceed from contempt or a grim despair-the Winnegarites were right willing to believe the latter.

Mr. Timothy Winnegar had sent to intimate that he should be in town on the day previous to the one fixed for the nomination: so his loyal committee and his faithful Sniggers resolved that his entrée should be a triumph. Early that morning, therefore, Tom Suffrage was seen marching a body of thirty "roughs" from the hamlet of Top Puddleton; Mr. Ninepoints, the patriotic shoemaker, was leading another body from Upper Waterditch; and a third amiable detachment was on its way from Slopham, headed by Sniggers himself;-and all bound for Lower Fleecington.

With fustian jackets enlivened by bits of ribbon tacked on in odd · places, with little streamers of calico, and with stout bludgeons in their hands, these three bodies met about noon, at a trysting-spot in front of a public-house, and proceeding to a given station about half-a-mile from the town, were drawn up in order to wait the coming of Mr. Winnegar.

It was a good deal of trouble to keep such a body of such men in good order; but it was done very creditably, if we except some halfdozen fights that took place, and sundry bonnetings all for fun. And the leaders—Sniggers, and Tom, and the shoemaker-managed to keep up their authority wonderfully; if we except again, that Sniggers was forcibly bonneted by one of his faithful adherents, and Tom besides vainly looking in his pocket for his watch, to see how long they had been waiting, was seen (after giving a peremptory word of command to an obstinate "lamb") holding a sanguine handkerchief to his nose.

After an anxious period of waiting, the roll of wheels was heard and horses' feet approaching, at a steady rate. The men instantly got into their places, and the road was lined on either side by a sturdy file. On came the sound-nearer-a horse's head peered round the corner—a deafening shout rose from the lips of the patriots: there was a thick cloud of dust—a cry of murder! murder! in women's voices—and a horse dashed at full gallop between the files, dragging after him a phaeton, containing, not the far-famed Winnegar, but a pale quaker, and three unfortunate quakeresses, in mortal fear and drab bonnets! Down the lane dashed the cob, usually as sober as his master-maddened by the cries, and shouts, and laughter, from each side of him-up the next hill like a feather on the wind: pursued, till out of sight, by sacrilegious mirth, and certain impious clods of earth, hurled by a few of the outsiders in the host of patriots.

Then another long and weary pause followed, broken by the appearance of a thin meagre packman, in a poverty-stricken gig, who being greeted with great applause from both sides of the way, pulled up short and rose from his seat indignantly to make an oration, in answer. When on his feet, speaking was found to be next door to an impossibility, as he was obliged to dodge backwards and forwards, and stoop and twist, to avoid the handy little clods of turf that were flying about him, some of which left their handmarks upon his seedy white hat, with the narrow band of crape. Growing at last purple in the face, between every dodge yelling out an oath, he seized his whip at last, determined to use it upon his persecutors. Upon this the clods flew faster than ever: and one hitting his pony on the nose, caused that ancient steed to lay down its ears, and back and back till it shook its master into his seat again; when there, he suddenly seemed to relinquish any idea of revenge, and muttering savagely something about its being "a nice way to serve a gent," he laid his whip across the back of his animal, and pursued the uneven tenor of his way amid a tempest of howls.

Then a dozen of pigs came after, and were also welcomed with acclamations. The porkers scared by this, their first public reception, ran madly hither and thither: some at a headlong speed along the road, some back again as hard as they could scamper, and others doubled about, in-andout and between the legs of the crowd, answering the kicks freely bestowed on them with unearthly yells. The drovers, frantic and Irish, poured out floods of Milesian Billingsgate, tucking up their coat-tails under one arm, and brandishing their sticks in a threatening manner, which only made matters worse. At last the porkers being dragged out by the tail from their hiding places, and brought back again, and got together in some semblance of order-their excited masters resumed their march.

Just as the hubbub had subsided, a pair of beautiful bays and an open carriage, with the man himself, two other gentlemen, and three servants all covered with ribbons, dashed round the corner.

Although taken by surprise, a second shout was got up by the exertions of Sniggers and Tom. And Winnegar rose from his seat, and, with his everlasting scowl upon his forehead, bobbed once to his constituents ! and sat down again. This gracious conduct produced another shout: whereupon the great man waved his hand-the enthusiasm then became unbounded, and seven stout "roughs," unharnessing the bays, rather appropriately converted themselves into beasts of burden, and set off with the carriage at a run. The remainder-totally regardless of any authority which Sniggers, or Tom, or the shoemaker, might claim over themcrushed up behind the vehicle, to grasp the hand which Mr. Winnegar was advised by his friends in the carriage to hold out to them, and at the