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The old inn used to stand slap opposite the church; and there, in the parlour-window, were assembled all the Duke's men Squire Martin and his son, Roger Newte, John a Hall, the Parson, and, all the rest of the gang as well to see how the people would take it as to give the timorous Overseers a backing.
Though made up of Tories to a man, the crowd couldn't help hissing; but it affected the old Parson not a doit. "Macann and Saule," said he, speaking up sharp and loud: and at the names the hissing became a cheer fit to lift the roofs off their eaves. Newte fairly forgot himself. "Ha haven't you seen Major Dyngwall this morning?" he managed to ask.
"There's nothing for it but pluck," said Mr. Newte. "We must make a new Poor Rate. They've been asking a new one for years; and, bejimbers! I hope they'll like the one they get." The old Squire stroked his chin. "That's a bit too dangerous, Newte." "Where's the danger? Churchwardens and Overseers, we can count on every man." "The parish will appeal, as sure as a gun.
"I'm so sorry I'm late, but that Mackenzie girl called. They are getting up a bazaar for the old people down in the village, and we have to help it, I suppose. Oh! these bazaars, sales of work, and other little excuses for extracting shillings from the pockets of everybody! They are most wearying." "She called on me last week," said Lady Ranscomb. "Newte told her I was not at home."
Newte had to stand there and swallow this, though it was poison to him, and he swore next day he'd willingly spend ten years in the pit of the wicked for getting quits with Macann. But what fairly knocked the fight out of him was to see, five minutes later, old Parson Polsue totter up the steps towards him with a jaw stuck out like a mule's, and Grandison behind, and all their contingent.
He paid another fifty down and made it clear that no more must be counted on for six months. And the horseman said no more at that time, being a good bit occupied with Daisy Newte by then. For she was walking with him and very near won. And afore Christmas, he'd got her. All went well and everybody wished Jonas joy and Milly luck.
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 dapper, youngish-looking man, very careful of his finger-nails and smooth in his talk till he got you in a corner.
By five in the morning, say, we shall know about Lord William. If he can't leave his bed and I'll bet he can't I suggest that the Major steps down, pays an early call, and tells Parson the simple truth from beginning to end." "An excellent suggestion!" put in Mr. Newte. "I was about to make it myself.
Last but not least was this Roger Newte, who had settled here as Collector of Customs and meant to be Mayor next year; a man to go where the devil can't, and that's between the oak and the rind. Well, there they were met, drinking punch and smoking their clays and discussing this and that; and Mr.
The Tories appealed to Quarter Sessions, of course, and the Rate was quashed. On their side, Roger Newte and Bob Martin kept the Overseers up to the proper mark of stubbornness: so to London the matter went, and from London down came the order for a new assessment. But by this time Parliament's days were numbered; and, speculating on this, Mr.
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