A jolly group sat in Murphy's dining-parlour on the eve of the day fixed for the nomination. Hitting points of speeches were discussed--plans for bringing up voters--tricks to interrupt the business of the opposite party--certain allusions on the hustings that would make the enemy lose temper; and, above all, everything that could cheer and amuse the people, and make them rejoice in their cause.
"Oh, let me alone for _that_ much," said Murtough. "I have engaged every piper and fiddler within twenty miles round, and divil a screech of a chanter[19] or a scrape of catcut Scatterbrain can have for love or money--that's one grand point."
"But," said Tom Durfy, "he has engaged the yeomanry band."
"What of that?" asked Dick Dawson; "a band is all very well for making a splash in the first procession to the hustings, but what good is it in working out the details?"
"Why, the popular tunes in the public-houses and in the tally-rooms, while the fellows are waiting to go up. Then the dances in the evening--Wow!--won't Scatterbrain's lads look mighty shy when they know the Eganites are kicking their heels to 'Moll in the Wad,' while _they_ haven't a lilt to shake their bones to?"
"To be sure," said Murphy; "we'll have the deserters to our cause from the enemy's camp before the first night is over;[20] wait till the girls know where the fiddles are--and won't they make the lads join us!"
[20] In those times elections often lasted many days.
"I believe a woman would do a good deal for a dance," said Doctor Growling; "they are immensely fond of saltatory motion. I remember, once in my life, I used to flirt with a little actress who was a great favourite in a provincial town where I lived, and she was invited to a ball there, and confided to me she had no silk stockings to appear in, and without them her presence at the ball was out of the question."
"That was a hint to you to buy the stockings," said Dick.
"No--you're out," said Growling. "She knew I was as poor as herself; but though she could not rely on my purse, she had every confidence in my taste and judgment, and consulted me on a plan she formed for going to the ball in proper twig. Now, what do you think it was?"
"To go in cotton, I suppose," returned Dick.