the Bench had
"sat upon" me, I resolved to take a course of action at the expense of
the gentleman mentioned. So the same afternoon, still smarting under a
sense of having been unfairly dealt with, I set to work with my pen, and
wrote a satire on the magistrate who took the most prominent part in
dealing with my case. By the dinner hour on the following day (Saturday)
I was in the market-place selling copies of the satire. People bought
with avidity, and before Saturday went out I had disposed of a thousand
copies at a penny each; which returns enabled me to pay the fine and then
make profit out of my prosecution.

THE HENPECKED CLUB AND THE KEIGHLEY SHOW

My next effusion was partly in verse and partly in prose, and was
entitled, "The Rules and Regulations of the Henpecked Club." This club
was connected with the Agricultural Society's Show, and made its
existence felt on the Show Day only. At the time of which I write, the
Keighley Agricultural Show was about one of the finest shows in the
country. The townspeople, then, took some pride in their show. The public
thoroughfare from Church Green along Skipton-road to the Showfield was
decorated in a gorgeous fashion. Flags, streamers, and bunting, with
scores of appropriate mottoes and devices, were numerously in evidence,
and trees were planted on each side of the road and decked with all sorts
of fairy lamps. Yes; those were the good old days of the Keighley Show;
thousands of people flocked from all parts of a not very limited area to
attend the annual event. But the principal thoroughfares of the town were
not the only places which received attention at the hands of the
decorators, for the residents of such places as the Pinfold went in for
their own particular local celebration of the Show Day. On one occasion I
saw a stuffed donkey with a dummy rider on its back, swinging on a rope
opposite the Bay Horse Inn. The donkey, which was the source of intense
delight to the younger section of the populace, was the property of one
Harry Barwick, a tanner by trade. Not far from here--in old
Bridge-street, now known as Mill-street--was to be seen a large picture,
containing the portraits, rudely executed by myself as artist to the
club, of some forty members of the Henpecked Club. The spectacle was of
the most laughable description. There was also displayed a gigantic
cradle, large enough to hold the biggest person in the world in case of
emergency. The cradle was sup