'Twas a brave throw, zurely. Whu wid a' thought it?
CLYST. Tam's crawlin' out. [Leaning through window] Hello, Tam—'ow's t' base, old man?
FREMAN. [Excitedly] They'm all comin' up from churchyard to zee.
TRUSTAFORD. Tam du luke wonderful aztonished; haw, haw! Poor old
Tam!
CLYST. Can yu zee curate? Reckon 'e'm gone into church. Aw, yes; gettin' a bit dimsy-service time. [A moment's hush.]
TRUSTAFORD. Well, I'm jiggered. In 'alf an hour he'm got to prache.
GODLEIGH. 'Tes a Christian village, boys.
[Feebly, quietly, JIM BERE laughs. There is silence; but the bell is heard still ranging.]
CURTAIN.
SCENE II
The same-in daylight dying fast. A lamp is burning on the bar. A chair has been placed in the centre of the room, facing the bench under the window, on which are seated from right to left, GODLEIGH, SOL POTTER the village shopman, TRUSTAFORD, BURLACOMBE, FREMAN, JIM BERE, and MORSE the blacksmith. CLYST is squatting on a stool by the bar, and at the other end JARLAND, sobered and lowering, leans against the lintel of the porch leading to the door, round which are gathered five or six sturdy fellows, dumb as fishes. No one sits in the chair. In the unnatural silence that reigns, the distant sound of the wheezy church organ and voices singing can be heard.
TAUSTAFORD. [After a prolonged clearing of his throat] What I mean to zay is that 'tes no yuse, not a bit o' yuse in the world, not duin' of things properly. If an' in case we'm to carry a resolution disapprovin' o' curate, it must all be done so as no one can't, zay nothin'.
SOL POTTER. That's what I zay, Mr. Trustaford; ef so be as 'tis to be a village meetin', then it must be all done proper.
FREMAN. That's right, Sot Potter. I purpose Mr. Sot Potter into the chair. Whu seconds that?
[A silence. Voices from among the dumb-as-fishes: "I du."]
CLYST. [Excitedly] Yu can't putt that to the meetin'. Only a chairman can putt it to the meetin'. I purpose that Mr. Burlacombe—bein as how he's chairman o' the Parish Council—take the chair.
FREMAN. Ef so be as I can't putt it, yu can't putt that neither.
TRUSTAFORD. 'Tes not a bit o' yuse; us can't 'ave no meetin' without a chairman.
GODLEIGH. Us can't 'ave no chairman without a meetin' to elect un, that's zure. [A silence.]
MORSE. [Heavily] To my way o' thinkin', Mr. Godleigh speaks zense; us must 'ave a meetin' before us can 'ave a chairman.
CLYST. Then what we got to du's to elect a meetin'.
BURLACOMBE. [Sourly] Yu'll not find no procedure far that.
[Voices from among the dumb-as fishes: "Mr. Burlacombe 'e oughter know."]
SOL POTTER. [Scratching his head—with heavy solemnity] 'Tes my belief there's no other way to du, but to elect a chairman to call a meetin'; an' then for that meetin' to elect a chairman.
CLYST. I purpose Mr. Burlacombe as chairman to call a meetin'.
FREMAN. I purpose Sol Potter.
GODLEIGH. Can't 'ave tu propositions together before a meetin'; that's apple-pie zure vur zurtain.
[Voice from among the dumb-as fishes: "There ain't no meetin'
yet, Sol Potter zays."]
TRUSTAFORD. Us must get the rights of it zettled some'ow. 'Tes like the darned old chicken an' the egg—meetin' or chairman—which come virst?
SOL POTTER. [Conciliating] To my thinkin' there shid be another way o' duin' it, to get round it like with a circumbendibus. 'T'all comes from takin' different vuse, in a manner o' spakin'.
FREMAN. Vu goo an' zet in that chair.
SOL POTTER. [With a glance at BURLACOMBE modestly] I shid'n never like fur to du that, with Mr. Burlacombe zettin' there.
BURLACOMBE. [Rising] 'Tes all darned fulishness.
[Amidst an uneasy shufflement of feet he moves to the door, and goes out into the darkness.]
CLYST. [Seeing his candidate thus depart] Rackon curate's pretty well thru by now, I'm goin' to zee. [As he passes JARLAND] 'Ow's to base, old man?
[He goes out. One of the dumb-as-fishes moves from the door and
fills the apace left on the bench by BURLACOMBE'S departure.]
JARLAND. Darn all this puzzivantin'! [To SOL POTTER] Got an' zet in that chair.
SOL POTTER. [Rising and going to the chair; there he stands, changing from one to the other of his short broad feet and sweating from modesty and worth] 'Tes my duty now, gentlemen, to call a meetin' of the parishioners of this parish. I beg therefore to declare that this is a meetin' in accordance with my duty as chairman of this meetin' which elected me chairman to call this meetin'. And I purceed to vacate the chair so that this meetin' may now purceed to elect a chairman.
[He gets up from the chair, and wiping the sweat from his brow, goes back to his seat.]
FREMAN. Mr. Chairman, I rise on a point of order.
GODLEIGH. There ain't no chairman.
FREMAN. I don't give a darn for that. I rise on a point of order.
GODLEIGH. 'Tes a chairman that decides points of order. 'Tes certain yu can't rise on no points whatever till there's a chairman.
TRUSTAFORD. 'Tes no yuse yure risin', not the least bit in the world, till there's some one to set yu down again. Haw, haw!
[Voice from the dumb-as-Etches: "Mr. Trustaford 'e's right."]
FREMAN. What I zay is the chairman ought never to 'ave vacated the chair till I'd risen on my point of order. I purpose that he goo and zet down again.
GODLEIGH. Yu can't purpose that to this meetin'; yu can only purpose that to the old meetin' that's not zettin' any longer.
FREMAN. [Excitedly] I didn' care what old meetin' 'tis that's zettin'. I purpose that Sol Potter goo an' zet in that chair again, while I rise on my point of order.
TRUSTAFORD. [Scratching his head] 'Tesn't regular but I guess yu've got to goo, Sol, or us shan't 'ave no peace.
[SOL POTTER, still wiping his brow, goes back to the chair.]
MORSE. [Stolidly-to FREMAN] Zet down, Will Freman. [He pulls at him with a blacksmith's arm.]
FREMAN. [Remaining erect with
