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Updated: June 25, 2025
The Bishop was waiting at Bishop's Court, and place was made for his carriage immediately after the carriage of the Governor. At Tynwald there was a sweet and beautiful spectacle. The children of St.
And another said in a cynical voice, "Perhaps your Excellency has taken somebody else's seat." Philip raised himself to his full height, and answered, with his eyes on the speakers, "We are free-born men on this island, your Excellency. We did not come to Tynwald to learn order from the grandson of a Spanish pirate, or freedom from the son of a black chief."
He began to talk of the great doings of the day at Tynwald, then of Philip, and finally of Kate, apologising a little wildly for the mother not coming home sooner to the child, but protesting that she had sent the little one no end of presents. "Presents, bless ye," he began rapturously "You don't ate enough, Pete, 'deed you don't," said Grannie. "Ate? Did you say ate?" cried Pete.
'If you don't, we won't; and if you try to make us, we're two thousand strong, and we'll rise like one man.'Don't be freckened; you've a right to be bould in a good cause. I'll get somebody to spake for you. You know the man I mane. He's stood the fisherman's friend before to-day, and he isn't going taking off his cap to the best man that's setting foot on Tynwald Hill." It was agreed.
Pete laughed, protested that Philip must not work so hard, and then plunged into an account of the morning's meeting. "Tremenjous! Talk of enthusiasm! Man veen, man veen! Didn't I say we'd rise as one man? We will, too. We're going up to Tynwald Coort on Tynwald day, two thousand strong. Tynwald Coort? Yes, and why not? Drum and fife bands, bless you two of them.
"Do?" cried Pete. "I'll tell you what you're to do. This is Friday. Next Thursday is old Midsummer Day. That's Tynwald Coort day. Come to St. John's on Thursday every man of you come come in your sea-boots and your jerseys let the Governor see you mane it. 'Give us raisonable hope of harbour improvement and we'll pay, says you.
"Come," whispered the Clerk of the Rolls, putting his hand through Philip's quivering arm. "Little does the poor devil think that, if blood is shed, he will be the first to fall." "God in heaven!" muttered Philip. The crowd on Tynwald had now gathered thick down the neck of the enclosure and dense round the mount.
"No," he said, with the accent of authority; "this is no time and no place for petitions." "Forgive me, your Excellency," said Philip, with a deeper bow; "this is the time of all times, the place of all places." There had been a general surging of the Keys and clergy towards the steps, and now one of them cried out of their group, "Is Tynwald Court to be turned into a bear-garden?"
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