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Updated: May 12, 2025
Curtenty, thoughtful: such an assertion of the entire absence of business was a reflection upon the town. And how many is there now? How many? 'Fourteen, said Mr. Gordon, having counted; and Mr. Curtenty gazed at him in reproach, for that he, a Town Councillor, had thus mathematically demonstrated the commercial decadence of Bursley. 'Market overstocked, eh? Mr.
"Then what about `trusting to the people'?" he murmured, smiling. "If trusting to the people means being under the thumb of the British working man, my boy," said Osmond Orgreave, "you can scratch me out, for one." Edwin had never heard him speak so colloquially. "I've always found 'em pretty decent," said Edwin, but lamely. Jos Curtenty fixed him with a grim eye.
But in the peculiar eye of the Barnacle gander, who was leading, an observer with sufficient fancy might have deciphered a mild revolt against this triumph of the absurd, the accidental, and the futile; a passive yet Promethean spiritual defiance of the supreme powers. Mr. Curtenty got his fourteen intelligences safely across the top of St.
'Collect 'em. 'Yes, sir. Mr. Curtenty walked away towards the house. 'Mester! Pond called after him, flashing the lantern. 'Well, lad? 'There's no gander i' this lot. 'Hast forgotten to count thysen? Mr. Curtenty answered blithely from the shelter of the side-door.
The other was usually empty, but to-night it was occupied by Mrs. Curtenty, the jewel of the casket. In the presence of her husband she always used a small rocking-chair of ebonized cane. To glance at this short, slight, yet plump little creature as she reclined crosswise in the vast chair, leaving great spaces of the seat unfilled, was to think rapturously to one's self: This is a woman.
'Yes, sir; I have but just rubbed the horse down. So far no reference to the surrounding geese, all forlorn in the heavy winter rain. 'I've gotten a two-three geese and one gander here for Christmas, said Mr. Curtenty after a pause. To inferiors he always used the dialect. 'Yes, sir. 'Turn 'em into th' orchard, as you call it. 'Yes, sir. 'They aren't all here.
The gooseherd, a shabby middle-aged man, looked as though he had recently lost the Battle of Marathon, and was asking himself whether the path of his retreat might not lie through the bar-parlour of the Tiger. 'Business pretty good? Mr. Curtenty inquired of him cheerfully. In the Five Towns business takes the place of weather as a topic of salutation. 'Business! echoed the gooseherd.
His imagination caught the sound of an oft-repeated inquiry, 'Did ye hear about old Jos's latest trying to buy them there geese? and the appreciative laughter that would follow. The gooseherd faced him in silence. 'Well, said Mr. Curtenty again, his eyes twinkling, 'how much for the lot? The gooseherd gloomily and suspiciously named a sum. Mr.
Denry had bought the mule simply because he had been struck all of a sudden with the idea of buying the mule. Denry did not like this. He was indeed jealous, if a large mind can be jealous. Jos Curtenty was old enough to be his grandfather, and had been a recognised "card" and "character" since before Denry's birth.
Besides, nobody could be so foolish as to imagine that goosedriving, though reprehensible in a Mayor about to succeed an Earl, is an act of which official notice can be taken. The most curious thing in the whole imbroglio is that Josiah Curtenty secretly agreed with his wife and the town. He was ashamed, overset.
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