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Updated: May 23, 2025
There was in Barchester an honest publican honest as the world of publicans goes who not only was possessed of a vote, but possessed also of a son who was a voter. He was one Reddypalm, and in former days, before he had learned to appreciate the full value of an Englishman's franchise, he had been a declared Liberal and an early friend of Roger Scatcherd's.
Beer, at any rate, was flowing there as elsewhere; and scarlet ribbons going in not, perhaps, in a state of perfect steadiness came out more unsteady than before. Still had Mr Reddypalm been deaf to the voice of that charmer, Closerstil, though he had charmed with all his wisdom.
He was quite horror-struck at the list of his own enormities. But he was somewhat comforted when Mr Closerstil told him that the meaning of it all was that Mr Romer, the barrister, had paid a former bill due to Mr Reddypalm, the publican. "I fear he was indiscreet, Sir Roger; I really fear he was. Those young mean always are.
"Is that wrong?" said Frank; "upon my word I thought that it was quite legitimate." "One should never admit anything in electioneering matters, should one?" said George, turning to Mr Nearthewinde. "Very little, Mr de Courcy; very little indeed the less the better. It's hard to say in these days what is wrong and what is not. Now, there's Reddypalm, the publican, the man who has the Brown Bear.
I'll speak to Closerstil about that." "All right!" said Reddypalm, seizing the young barrister's hand, and shaking it warmly; "all right!" And late in the afternoon when a vote or two became matter of intense interest, Mr Reddypalm and his son came up to the hustings and boldly tendered theirs for their old friend, Sir Roger. There was a great deal of eloquence heard in Barchester on that day.
Men admired his easy laughter, as, shuffling his half-crowns with both his hands in his trouser-pockets, he declared that Messrs Romer and Reddypalm were the best friends he had known for this many a day. But not the less did he walk out from the room in which he was standing a broken-hearted man. Hope could not buoy him up as she may do other ex-members in similarly disagreeable circumstances.
Now, tell me," and putting his arm through Reddypalm's, he walked with him into the passage of his own house; "Now, tell me is there anything wrong? It's between friends, you know. Is there anything wrong?" "I wouldn't sell my vote for untold gold," said Reddypalm, who was perhaps aware that untold gold would hardly be offered to him for it. "I am sure you would not," said Mr Romer.
How should I? All I looks to, Mr Romer, is selling a trifle of drink now and then selling it, and getting paid for it, you know, Mr Romer." "Yes, that's important, no doubt. But come, Reddypalm, such an old friend of Sir Roger as you are, a man he speaks of as one of his intimate friends, I wonder how you can hesitate about it?
Tremendous exertions had been made about half-past three, by a safe emissary sent from Nearthewinde, to prove to Mr Reddypalm that all manner of contingent advantages would accrue to the Brown Bear if it should turn out that Mr Moffat should take his seat for Barchester. No bribe was, of course, offered or even hinted at.
"Well, Reddypalm," said Mr Romer, shaking hands with him. Mr Romer had not been equally cautious as Nearthewinde, and had already drunk sundry glasses of ale at the Brown Bear, in the hope of softening the stern Bear-warden. "How is it to be to-day? Which is to be the man?" "If any one knows that, Mr Romer, you must be the man. A poor numbskull like me knows nothing of them matters.
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