Terms are long, and Vacs. are fleeting, And our "tums," though big and brave, Know that there's an end to eating When at lessons we must slave.
Oh, the railway's welcome rattle! Oh, the feeling of fresh life! Oh, the Christmas Show of Cattle! Oh, the fun of fork and knife!
Blow the Future! it's unpleasant; Put the Past clean out of head. What _I_ like's the (Christmas) Present, No mere ghost, as DICKENS said.
All _his_ jolly books remind us Christmas is a glorious time. _Don't_ let bilious bogies blind us To its larks, which are sublime.
Only wish there was another Coming--in a month--again! Stodge is bad for boys? Oh, bother! _I_ can stand it, right as rain!
Let us, then, be up and doing, (With a knife and fork and plate,) All our tips at tuck-shops blueing, Learn to stodge, ere 'tis too late!
As soon as we had agreed to allow the Parish Meeting Chairman to preside, BLACK BOB jumped up and proposed that Mrs. LETHAM HAVITT should be elected to the chair. She was a lady whose excellences he need not dilate on. She had excellent business habits, and, with all respect to Mrs. MARCH, she had as much right to a seat on the Council as that lady. Then a miracle happened. Mrs. MARCH not only did not resent this reference, but actually seconded Mrs. HAVITT. It was essential, she said, that women should be represented as fully as possible, and she should, without hesitation, embrace this opportunity of securing a woman colleague. This made the situation serious, not to say hopeless. After she had sat down, there was an ominous pause. At length I rose and proposed myself. In impressive tones I pointed put that the hand of the electors had pointed in no uncertain way to myself, and that since no one else had proposed my election, at the risk of being misunderstood _once more_, I had, on public grounds, to do it myself. After another painful pause the Parson seconded my nomination. Then the voting. Mrs. HAVITT'S name was put first. She got 4 votes--Mrs. MARCH, BLACK BOB, and his two comrades. I got 3--the Squire, the Parson, and my self. And so I was foiled again--by the Eternal Feminine.
And so our Parish Council is at last complete, and ready for action, a corporate body in the eyes of the law. Possibly, in these pages I may from time to time be permitted to relate how Mudford progresses under our rule. Possibly, I may not. But in any case I ought to add that, being beaten by Mrs. HAVITT has not--well, improved the domestic atmosphere. Wifely devotion seems to be out of fashion in these _fin de siècle_ days.