I sent this to every elector, high or low, rich or poor. I hardly
imagined that the Squire would want coal, but he was a constituent
of mine, and he had his ticket. What has been the result of my
generosity? This. Whilst almost every coal-ticket has been used, I
am denounced right and left in unmeasured terms as an unscrupulous
briber. Miss PHILL BURTT (who, as might be expected, has been most
kind and sympathetic about the whole thing), tells me that even the
Squire said it was a very ingenious way of wishing myself Many Happy
Returns to the Parish Council. A poor joke, I think, but an undeniably
excellent sneer. BLACK BOB is, as might be expected, much more
plain and direct in his denunciation. He says, that if I stand for
re-election--in April, 1896!--this ought to be enough to unseat me.
A pleasant prospect. I can do nothing. My boats, like my coal, are
burnt.
What happened at the Parish Council meeting last night I must
leave--till my next.
* * * * *
[Illustration: SYMPATHY WANTED--
For the Man whose Collar comes undone every time he tries to do up his
Tie.]
* * * * *