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For look here! Say it's election time. I am on the footboard of my
cart in the market-place, on a Saturday night. I put up a general
miscellaneous lot. I say: "Now here, my free and independent
woters, I'm a going to give you such a chance as you never had in
all your born days, nor yet the days preceding. Now I'll show you
what I am a going to do with you. Here's a pair of razors that'll
shave you closer than the Board of Guardians; here's a flat-iron
worth its weight in gold; here's a frying-pan artificially flavoured
with essence of beefsteaks to that degree that you've only got for
the rest of your lives to fry bread and dripping in it and there you
are replete with animal food; here's a genuine chronometer watch in
such a solid silver case that you may knock at the door with it when
you come home late from a social meeting, and rouse your wife and
family, and save up your knocker for the postman; and here's half-a-dozen
dinner plates that you may play the cymbals with to charm baby
when it's fractious. Stop! I'll throw in another article, and I'll
give you that, and it's a rolling-pin; and if the baby can only get
it well into its mouth when its teeth is coming and rub the gums
once with it, they'll come through double, in a fit of laughter
equal to being tickled. Stop again! I'll throw you in another
article, because I don't like the looks of you, for you haven't the
appearance of buyers unless I lose by you, and because I'd rather
lose than not take money to-night, and that's a looking-glass in
which you may see how ugly you look when you don't bid. What do you
say now? Come! Do you say a pound? Not you, for you haven't got
it. Do you say ten shillings? Not you, for you owe more to the
tallyman. Well then, I'll tell you what I'll do with you. I'll
heap 'em all on the footboard of the cart,--there they are! razors,
flat watch, dinner plates, rolling-pin, and away for four shillings,
and I'll give you sixpence for your trouble!" This is me, the Cheap
Jack. But on the Monday morning, in the same market-place, comes
the Dear Jack on the hustings--HIS cart--and, what does HE say?
"Now my free and independent woters, I am a going to give you such a
chance" (he begins just like me) "as you never had in all your born
days, and that's the chance of sending Myself to Parliament. Now
I'll tell you what I am a going to do for you. Here's the interests
of this magnificent town promoted above all the rest of the
civilised and uncivilised earth. Here's your railways carried, and
your neighbours' railways jockeyed. Here's all your sons in the
Post-office. Here's Britannia smiling on you. Here's the eyes of
Europe on you. Here's uniwersal prosperity for you, repletion of
animal food, golden cornfields, gladsome homesteads, and rounds of
applause from your own hearts, all in one lot, and that's myself.
Will you take me as I stand? You won't? Well, then, I'll tell you
what I'll do with you. Come now! I'll throw you in anything you
ask for. There! Church-rates, abolition of more malt tax, no malt
tax, universal education to the highest mark, or uniwersal ignorance
to the lowest, total abolition of flogging in the army or a dozen
for every private once a month all round, Wrongs of Men or Rights of
Women--only say which it shall be, take 'em or leave 'em, and I'm of
your opinion altogether, and the lot's your own on your own terms.
There! You won't take it yet! Well, then, I'll tell you what I'll
do with you. Come! You ARE such free and independent woters, and I
am so proud of you,--you ARE such a noble and enlightened
constituency, and I AM so ambitious of the honour and dignity of
being your member, which is by far the highest level to which the
wings of the human mind can soar,--that I'll tell you what I'll do
with you. I'll throw you in all the public-houses in your
magnificent town for nothing. Will that content you? It won't?
You won't take the lot yet? Well, then, before I put the horse in
and drive away, and make the offer to the next most magnificent town
that can be discovered, I'll tell you what I'll do. Take the lot,
and I'll drop two thousand pound in the streets of your magnificent
town for them to pick up that can. Not enough? Now look here.
This is the very furthest that I'm a going to. I'll make it two
thousand five hundred. And still you won't? Here, missis! Put the
horse--no, stop half a moment, I shouldn't like to turn my back upon
you neither for a trifle, I'll make it two thousand seven hundred
and fifty pound. There! Take the lot on your own terms, and I'll
count out two thousand seven hundred and fifty pound on the foot-board
of the cart, to be dropped in the streets of your magnificent
town for them to pick up that can. What do you say? Come now! You
won't do better, and you may do worse. You take it? Hooray! Sold
again, and got the seat!"
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