“Sir Munt,” for the nth time Mayor of Blackhampton,[A] was in his
parlor at the City Hall, gazing into the heavens. A contraption rather
like a monstrous aluminum fish shining in the October air hung above
Market Square. At regular intervals of a minute or so there came
fluttering down from the huge object in the sky a rain of leaflets.
These varied in color and they fell upon the heads of the citizens.
At last, yet not without effort of will, Sir Munt set a term to his
entrancement. He went across to his writing table and pressed the bell
once. A small imp in a very tight suit of buttons promptly answered the
summons.
“Niblo,” said the Chief Magistrate, “step into the square and collect
some of that dé-bris. Bring one of each color, my boy.”
Preternaturally sharp in all circumstances, Niblo fully understood what
was required. He made his exit with a duck.
Sir Munt turned thoughtfully to the room’s second occupant. Its second
occupant was no less a personage than his stenographer, Miss Evans. An
intelligent, demure, stylishly attractive young lady, she was seated
before a typewriter carefully transcribing from her private notes a
sheaf of letters recently dictated to her by the Mayor.
“Miss Evans,” said his worship, “if you’ve written that letter to Sir
Stuyvescent Milgrim let me see it.”
The letter duly detached from the growing pile was handed to the Mayor,
who looked every inch of him--and they were many--the City’s Chief
Magistrate, as he put on a pair of eyeglasses to peruse it. For several
minutes he studied the letter in silence with the frown of a man who
did not quite know his own mind. At last, the study was terminated and
the frown increased by the return of Niblo, who with a fine air of
importance bore a number of pamphlets, some of which were white, some
of which were red, some of which were blue.
Sir Munt read the white one first:
LOVELY MATLOCK,
THE INCOMPARABLE METROPOLIS OF THE
PEAK DISTRICT OF DERBYSHIRE
A select number of subscribers to the UNIVERSAL PRESS will be
transmitted daily to this enchanted spot, free of all charge, by AUNT
MITTIE NUMBER THREE (Chicago World’s Fair Model).