vuse, in a manner o' spakin'.

FREMAN. Vu goo an' zet in that chair.

SOL POTTER. [With a glance at BURLACOMBE modestly] I shid'n never
like fur to du that, with Mr. Burlacombe zettin' there.

BURLACOMBE. [Rising] 'Tes all darned fulishness.

[Amidst an uneasy shufflement of feet he moves to the door, and
goes out into the darkness.]

CLYST. [Seeing his candidate thus depart] Rackon curate's pretty
well thru by now, I'm goin' to zee. [As he passes JARLAND] 'Ow's to
base, old man?

[He goes out. One of the dumb-as-fishes moves from the door and
fills the apace left on the bench by BURLACOMBE'S departure.]

JARLAND. Darn all this puzzivantin'! [To SOL POTTER] Got an' zet
in that chair.

SOL POTTER. [Rising and going to the chair; there he stands,
changing from one to the other of his short broad feet and sweating
from modesty and worth] 'Tes my duty now, gentlemen, to call a
meetin' of the parishioners of this parish. I beg therefore to
declare that this is a meetin' in accordance with my duty as chairman
of this meetin' which elected me chairman to call this meetin'. And
I purceed to vacate the chair so that this meetin' may now purceed to
elect a chairman.

[He gets up from the chair, and wiping the sweat from his brow,
goes back to his seat.]

FREMAN. Mr. Chairman, I rise on a point of order.

GODLEIGH. There ain't no chairman.

FREMAN. I don't give a darn for that. I rise on a point of order.

GODLEIGH. 'Tes a chairman that decides points of order. 'Tes
certain yu can't rise on no points whatever till there's a chairman.

TRUSTAFORD. 'Tes no yuse yure risin', not the least bit in the
world, till there's some one to set yu down again. Haw, haw!

[Voice from the dumb-as-Etches: "Mr. Trustaford 'e's right."]

FREMAN. What I zay is the chairman ought never to 'ave vacated the
chair till I'd risen on my point of order. I purpose that he goo and
zet down again.

GODLEIGH. Yu can't purpose that to this meetin'; yu can only purpose
that to the old meetin' that's not zettin' any longer.

FREMAN. [Excitedly] I didn' care what old meetin' 'tis that's
zettin'. I purpose that Sol Potter goo an' zet in that chair again,
while I rise on my point of order.

TRUSTAFORD. [Scratching his head] 'Tesn't regular but I guess yu've
got to goo, Sol, or us shan't 'ave no peace.

[SOL POTTER, still wiping his brow, goes back to the chair.]

MORS