In a very short time they were the two most popular people in this rather unalluring city. It was democratic to the core; and the fact that the Rag candidate was the son of Mr. Vandeleur's very last creation was made a cardinal point by his opponents. But, as the candidate said with simple pathos at every meeting—Gentlemen, it is not fair to hold me responsible for my father. No man ought to be held responsible for his father. I am doing my level best to live down my father, gentlemen, and in so doing I look confidently for the support of every follower of the Rovers in this room, for they, I know, are good sportsmen.
Whereupon the good sportsmen in question invariably roared themselves hoarse.
And then the Candidate would proceed: Gentlemen, I am not much use at a speech. But I'll just say this. I hope we shall beat the Villa on Saturday. (Uproar.) It won't be for want of trying, anyhow. (Uproar.) And if we do manage to beat 'em, and I think we shall—(cries of "Good lad!")—I hope you will be kind enough to forgive my oratory (cries of "Rather!" and loud cheering).
And now, gentlemen, I am going to ask my wife, who is a far better speaker than I am, to say a few words. There is no need for me to make you known to one another, because she tells me you are all old
