nd's honour;' what the deuce
England's honour has to do with tailoring, I can't tell you: perhaps
Mr Moffat can. But mind you, my friends, I don't say anything against
tailoring: some of you are tailors, I dare say."

"Yes, we be," said a little squeaking voice from out of the crowd.

"And a good trade it is. When I first knew Barchester there were
tailors here could lick any stone-mason in the trade; I say nothing
against tailors. But it isn't enough for a man to be a tailor unless
he's something else along with it. You're not so fond of tailors that
you'll send one up to Parliament merely because he is a tailor."

"We won't have no tailors. No; nor yet no cabbaging. Take a go of
brandy, Roger; you're blown."

"No, I'm not blown yet. I've a deal more to say about Mr Moffat
before I shall be blown. What has he done to entitle him to come here
before you and ask you to send him to Parliament? Why; he isn't even
a tailor. I wish he were. There's always some good in a fellow who
knows how to earn his own bread. But he isn't a tailor; he can't even
put a stitch in towards mending England's honour. His father was a
tailor; not a Barchester tailor, mind you, so as to give him any
claim on your affections; but a London tailor. Now the question is,
do you want to send the son of a London tailor up to Parliament to
represent you?"

"No, we don't; nor yet we won't either."

"I rather think not. You've had him once, and what has he done for
you? Has he said much for you in the House of Commons? Why, he's so
dumb a dog that he can't bark even for a bone. I'm told it's quite
painful to hear him fumbling and mumbling and trying to get up a
speech there over at the White Horse. He doesn't belong to the city;
he hasn't done anything for the city; and he hasn't the power to do
anything for the city. Then, why on earth does he come here? I'll
tell you. The Earl de Courcy brings him. He's going to marry the
Earl de Courcy's niece; for they say he's very rich--this tailor's
son--only they do say also that he doesn't much like to spend his
money. He's going to marry Lord de Courcy's niece, and Lord de Courcy
wishes that his nephew should be in Parliament. There, that's the
claim which Mr Moffat has here on the people of Barchester. He's Lord
de Courcy's nominee, and those who feel themselves bound hand and
foot, heart and soul, to Lord de Courcy, had better vote for him.
Such men have my leave. If there are enough of such at Barchest