I opened on a heading: 'The Village that Voted the Earth was Flat. I read ... I read that the Geoplanarian Society a society devoted to the proposition that the earth is flat had held its Annual Banquet and Exercises at Huckley on Saturday, when after convincing addresses, amid scenes of the greatest enthusiasm, Huckley village had decided by an unanimous vote of 438 that the earth was flat.
Two inhabitants of Huckley wrote to contradict a small, quite solid paragraph in The Bun that a hoopoe had been seen at Huckley and had, 'of course, been shot by the local sportsmen. There was some heat in their letters, both of which we published.
And then, in all the zealous, merciless press, Huckley was laid out for it to look at, as a drop of pond water is exposed on the sheet of a magic-lantern show. But Huckley's sheet was only coterminous with the use of type among mankind. For the precise moment that was necessary, Fate ruled it that there should be nothing of first importance in the world's idle eye.
'He's got his hat on his head, hasn't he? 'Yes, but his wrath should have been put as a question. 'Arising out of that, Mr. Speaker, Sirrr! Sir Thomas bellowed through a lull, 'are you aware that that all this is a conspiracy part of a dastardly conspiracy to make Huckley ridiculous to make us ridiculous? Part of a deep-laid plot to make me ridiculous, Mr. Speaker, Sir!
The whole show packed up and gone, and Huckley hoo-raying for the earth being flat. 'Very good, I began. 'I am, as you know, a one-third proprietor of The Bun.
'I'm going to pitch in my question about that miscarriage of justice at Huckley this afternoon, if you care to listen to it, he said. 'It'll be absolutely thrown away in our present state. I told 'em so; but it's my only chance for weeks. P'raps Woodhouse would like to come. 'I'm sure he would. Anything to do with Huckley interests us, I said. 'It'll miss fire, I'm afraid.
'For I knew it and loved it with the maidens of my day eheu ab angulo! as Hugly, wrote M.L. Sigden from Oxf. Though other papers scoffed, The Bun was gravely sympathetic. Several people wrote to deny that Huckley had been changed at birth. Only the Rector no philosopher as he pointed out, but a lover of accuracy had his doubts, which he laid publicly before Mr.
So Woodhouse bought it and presented it to a grateful South Kensington which said it would see the earth still flatter before it returned the treasure to purblind Huckley. Bishops by the benchful and most of the Royal Academy, not to mention 'Margaritas ante Porcos, wrote fervently to the papers.
It's too serious for The Bun and miles too good for The Cake. He broke ground in a ponderous architectural weekly, which had never heard of Huckley. There was no passion in his statement, but mere fact backed by a wide range of authorities.
'Never mind the earth. What about Huckley? 'Oh, Huckley got tight. That's the worst of these model villages if you let 'em smell fire-water. There's one alcoholic pub in the place that Sir Thomas can't get rid of. Bat made it his base. He sent down the banquet in two motor lorries dinner for five hundred and drinks for ten thousand. Huckley voted all right. Don't you make any mistake about that.