We feel just a little hurt that the police have not prohibited our
village bonfire. Why shouldn't Zeppelins come to Little Pilswick? Why
should an arrogant metropolis monopolise everything? Still we hid our
mortification and the Guy Committee met as usual in the saloon bar of
the "Bull".
In the first instance Prodgers moved that the celebration be dropped,
and that all material already collected be given to the Belgian
refugees. It was pointed out to him that a gift of two empty tar-barrels
and half-a-dozen furze bushes, though meant in all kindness, might prove
embarrassing to any relief committee. Besides, we are happy in the
entertainment of two Belgian families, and the feeling was that the
sight of an uncultured fire would cheer them. So Prodgers was
temporarily crushed. Then came the all-important question of the guy.
Mr. Flodden, the landlord, began the discussion. "Last year we'd LLOYD
GEORGE, but we can't have no politics now, though he's--well, I wish I
could tell him what he is. Year before we'd the Squire for stopping up
that footpath, but he's in the Yeomanry now, so he's barred."
"The KAISER!" cried Jenkins. "Have him with mailed fists holding up a
torn scrap of paper."
"No, the CROWN PRINCE," suggested Webb. "Everyone would know him if we
put a silver spoon in each hand and hung a silver coffee-pot round his
neck."
"DE WET," proposed Cobb.
"Had him twelve year or more ago," said the landlord. "DE WET'S off."
A fierce controversy now ensued between partisans of the KAISER and the
CROWN PRINCE. Prodgers argued ably that it was much worse to destroy a
cathedral than to steal plate; whilst Unwin, the jobbing builder,
declared that the damaging of a cathedral gave work to a very deserving
class of men, and said he would very much rather see the parish
church-tower knocked down than the Vicar's spoons stolen. At last
feeling ran so high it was decided to put the matter to the vote. Five
voted for the light-headed KAISER, five for his light-fingered heir. All
eyes turned on the landlord to see which way his casting vote would go.
"Friends all," said. Mr. Flodden, "we've kep' ourselves respectable in
this village. Even our guys have been respectable, though, mind you,
that LLOYD GEORGE--well, if it wasn't wartime, I'd say he come precious
near the line. Now what's the good of us letting ourselves down to burn
these 'Uns? What about old GUY FAWKES? I grant you he wanted to blow up
the 'Ouses of Parliament; but, if there was licensing bills in those
days, I don't blame him. I say stick to old GUY and be respectable."
It was carried unanimously.
Somewhere in his rush from theatre to theatre of the war a message will
reach the KAISER. The hatred of a world may flatter him, but the cold,
chilling contempt of Little Pilswick will pierce to his very heart.
* * * * *
Illustration: OBVIOUS EMBARRASSMENT OF LITTLE BINKS, WHO HAS INJURED
HIS HAND IN THE PEACEFUL OCCUPATION OF PICTURE-HANGING, AT BEING
MISTAKEN FOR A WOUNDED HERO.
* * * * *