The well-sinking committee, composed of the vicar, the doctor, the squire's agent Mr. Jones, Mr. Barlow, and three of the principal tradesmen in Willowton, lost no time in setting to work that afternoon. Boxer, the largest carpenter in the place, got an order for two cylinders or zones, to be made of the strongest oak planks, and well clamped, in the fashion of a barrel. These cylinders, which were, of course, circular, were about three feet in height, and measured about seven feet in diameter. They were made with an overhanging edge to hold and retain in their places the bricks that were to weight them as they sank into the soil; and a supply of sharp new spades and picks was sent to each well-side by the village ironmonger. Apparently every one was going to reap some benefit from this new scheme, and the prospect of good water, even to the most sceptical, could not fail to be popular.
Before the evening was out collecting boxes "For the New Wells" had been put in conspicuous places on the counters of each of the shops, and a large one was fastened on to the church door. There was one placed in a prominent position at the post-office, and old Jimmy tramped off to the station with the doctor's compliments to the stationmaster, and "would he put one in the waiting-room?" Of course the stationmaster was agreeable to this, and Jimmy had the satisfaction of seeing the box he brought hung on a nail near the ticket-collector's window, and of hearing the chink of the station-master's own contribution, and the promise from each of the two porters of all the money they would get in tips for the next three days.
"Not that that'll count for much," one of them remarked, with a wink at the old man that caused him to chuckle audibly, "'cos you know, master, we be'an't allowed to take no money."
Willowton was not a crowded junction, but only a little ordinary station on the line; yet somehow or other, between them those porters put nearly two shillings into the box.
For the next few days, whenever the vicar or the doctor showed himself in the village, he was sure to be stopped and asked for a collecting-card, and before the end of the week there were thirty-six cards at work in Willowton. Some wag suggested that there should be one on the bridge, and that Corkam or Farley should hang it round his neck with a suitable inscription, because they were certain to be always on the spot! But Corkam scowled so at the proposition that what might have really been a most excellent plan was never carried out: for the bridge, as I said before, was the central point of the little town, and few people but passed over it some time in the day; consequently quite good sum might have been collected if anybody had taken charge of a box. Corkam apparently did all the good works he ever meant to accomplish in America, and Farley dared not undertake to collect without his approval.