The Parson O' Dumford Part 69

"Brotherly love," said a voice without.

"What does it bring?" said the second sentry.

"Ruin and death," was the reply.

"Enter ruin and death," said the first sentry; the door was opened, two men entered, Sim Slee looked solemn, and everybody seemed very much impressed.

The door being closed, and silence procured, Sim Slee rose, and there was a great deal of tapping on the table, to which Sim bowed, frowned, and thrust one hand into his vest. At least he meant so to do, but it went inside the gaping s.h.i.+rt.

"Brother paytriots and sitterzens," he commenced, "I think as we are all a.s.sembled here."

Just then a knocking was heard without.

"Ah, theer's some un else," said Sim, and he sat down, while the sentries repeated their formula; the voices outside replied in due order, with the requisite pa.s.s-words, and three more entered to swell the little crowd. Sim then rose again, more important than ever.

"Now, then, brother sitterzens," he began, "as I believe all the paytriots are here, we will now proceed to business."

"Howd hard a minnit," said Big Harry, who occupied a central position, "I want another gill o' ale."

Sim hammered the table with his little mallet, and exclaimed angrily,

"Yow can't hev it now: don't you see the brotherhood is setting?"

"'Arf on 'em's a stanning," said Big Harry, with a grin; "and if you're goin' to hev all this dry wuck, I must wet it."

"Hee-ar! hee-ar!" shouted two or three voices.

"But don't yow see as the brotherhood is a setting?" cried Sim. "The door is closed now, and we're in secret conclave."

"I don't keer nowt about no secret concave," growled Big Harry. "A mun hev another gill o' ale."

"Let's hev some more drink, then," cried several voices.

"Yow can't, I tell you," cried Sim. "We're a setting wi' closed doors."

"Open 'em, then," said Harry, "or I will. Here, summun, a gill o' ale."

"And I wants some 'bacco," said another voice.

Sim hammered away at the board for a bit, when Harry exclaimed, leaning his great arms on the table, and grinning,

"Say, lads, I niver see owd Simmy handle a harmmer like that up at th'

wucks."

"Silence!" roared Sim, in the midst of a hearty laugh from the men.

"Fellow paytriots and sitterzens, as Grand Brother of this order, I say--eh, what?"

Sim leaned down to the deputation, who had pulled his sleeve.

"Better let them have in the drink," whispered Mr Barker, "it makes 'em more trackable."

"All raight," said Sim, in an ill-used tone. "Here, send out for what's wanted, you two at the door, for no one isn't to enter."

There was a bustle at the door after this, and various orders were shouted downstairs, and eagerly responded to by the landlord, who wanted to bring all in, but was stayed by the sentries.

"Here, I say," said Sim to Mr Barker, "I shall lose all that speech 'fore I begin, if I have to wait much longer."

"I'll prompt you," said Barker.

"Eh?" said Sim.

"I'll prompt you--help you."

"Oh, all right; thankey. Kiver up them motters till the door's shoot close," he continued aloud; but as the door was on the point of being closed, Sim's order was not obeyed; and the ale and tobacco being handed to those who demanded them, Sim once more rose to begin, but only for a fresh clamour to arise from another party, whose "moogs" were empty, and while these were being filled, the swords were covered with a coat, and the mottoes turned to the wall.

At length all were satisfied, and Sim Slee rose for the speech of the evening.

"Brother workmen, mates, paytriots, and fellow sitterzens o' Doomford--"

"He--ar, he--ar!"

"We are met here to-night, honoured by the presence o' Brother Silas Barker."

"He--ar, he--ar," and a "hooray."

"And Brother Silas Barker is delicate, from the payrent lodge o'

Brothers in London."

"Drink along o' me, mate," growled Big Harry, holding out his mug to the deputation, "that'll keep you from being delicate."

"You, Harry," cried Sim, "don't interrupt. You ain't one of our most trustworthy brothers. You've fote on the wrong side afore now."

"I'll faight yow for a gill o' ale any day, Simmy Slee," said Harry, winking solemnly across the table at a mate.

"Don't you int'rupt the meeting wi' ignorant remarks," said Sim, taking no notice of the challenge. "I said delicate fro' the--fro' the--"

"Payrent society," said Mr Barker, prompting.

"All raight, I know," said Sim, pettishly; "fro' payrent society. Came down to Doomford to tell us suff'ring wuckmen as the eyes o' the Bri'sh wucking man i' London and all the world is upon us."

There was vociferous cheering at this, during which Big Harry confidentially informed his mate across the table, that he'd "Tak' Sim Slee wi' one hand tied behind him, and t'other chap, too, one down and t'other come on."

"We're met together here, mates--met together," continued Sim, whose flow of oratory had not yet begun, but who was gradually warming--"met together, mates, to bring things to a big crisis, and let the thunder of the power of the sons of labour--"

"Here, let's hev in some more ale," shouted some one at the other end.

"Why can't yow be quiet? interrupting that how," cried Sim, remonstrating. "Yow can't hev no more ale till the debate's ended. Do you want to hev the mummy--mummy--"