Two Sides of the Face: Midwinter Tales

Man's Institute last night, and there was the new Coastguard officer talking like a book, arguing about Woman Suffrage in a way that made me nervous. "Look 'ee here," he was saying, "a woman

for fun. "One of these days," she'd say, "the wind'll take and change sudden while you're doing it; and

man here once that never asked for a vote in her life, and yet capsized an Election for Parliament-candidates, voters, and the whole apple-cart-as easy as you might turn over

whether they could once on a time ride from sea to sea on their own acres. For Kitty was the last to carry the name, and she left it in Ardevora vestry the day she signed marriage with Paul Lebow (or, as he wrote it, Lebeau-"b-e-a-u,"):

l into declines, or had fits and went out like the snuff of a candle. But the women couldn't be held nor bound, lived to any age they pleased, and either kept their sweethearts on the hook or married them and made their live

ghtened her husband into his grave: though I reckon he took worse fright at Kitty presenting him with eight daughters one after the other. With a woman like that, you can't say where accident ends and love of mischief begins. And for that matter, there was no telling why she'd married the man at all except for mischief: his father and mother being poor French refugees that had

ary Ann Cocking, has the cup to this day in her house in Nanjivvey Street, where I've seen it a score of times and spelled out the writing, "C. L."-for Christian Lebow-"1768"). And concerning this Election you must know that "the Duke's interest," as they called it-that's to say, the Whigs-had ruled the roost in Ardevora for more than fi

to carry this Election as easy as the others, until word came down that one of the

nderstood to be something out of the common. But this Samuel, as he was called, turned out a bright boy with his books, and won his way somehow to Cambridge College; and from College, after doing famously, he took his foot in his hand and went up to walk the London hospitals; and so bloomed out into a great doctor, with

en Vicar of Trancells; and his second cousin John Martin, otherwise John à Hall, all wit and no character; and old Parson Polsue, with his curate, old Mr. Grandison, the one almost too shaky to hold a churchwarden pipe while the other lighted it; and Roger Newte, whose monument you see over the hill-a dap

ulated tongue, and the old Parson, who, to say truth, was half the cause of their unpopularity, the church services having sunk to a public scandal; and yet they dur

t make a new Poor Rate. They've been asking a new one for y

his chin. "That's a bit

chwardens and Overseers,

Bench will send down a mandamus, and the game's up

es will appeal to the next Quarter Sessions, and Quarter Sessions will maybe quash the Rate; and that'll take time. Then the Overseers will sit still for a week or two, or a month or two, until the Tories lose patience and apply to Lond

ttach the Overseers for contempt of Court," su

it comes to the writ, the Overseers can make out a new Rate 'agreeable to the form and tenor of the same,' as the words go. But a new Rat

do that?" aske

ke a holiday: find out some little spa that sui

. "Take Grandison, here, along with you

Newte, "they'll fine you fi

y pounds?" the Parson quave

an five years old already, and I'll warrant the King dissolves it by next spring at latest: which reminds me that keeping an ey