No public duty could have been more easy and agreeable to Mr. Powers and his associates, and the chorus swelled all the way to the High Street, where, by a mysterious coincidence often observable in these spontaneous ‘demonstrations’, large placards on long poles were observed to shoot upwards from among the crowd, principally in the direction of Tucker’s Lane, where the Green Man was situated.  One bore, ’Down with the Tryanites!’ another, ‘No Cant!’ another, ’Long live our venerable Curate!’ and one in still larger letters, ’Sound Church Principles and no Hypocrisy!’ But a still more remarkable impromptu was a huge caricature of Mr. Tryan in gown and band, with an enormous aureole of yellow hair and upturned eyes, standing on the pulpit stairs and trying to pull down old Mr. Crewe.  Groans, yells, and hisses—­hisses, yells, and groans—­only stemmed by the appearance of another caricature representing Mr. Tryan being pitched head-foremost from the pulpit stairs by a hand which the artist, either from subtilty of intention or want of space, had left unindicated.  In the midst of the tremendous cheering that saluted this piece of symbolical art, the chaise had reached the door of the Red Lion, and loud cries of ‘Dempster for ever!’ with a feebler cheer now and then for Tomlinson and Budd, were presently responded to by the appearance of the public-spirited attorney at the large upper window, where also were visible a little in the background the small sleek head of Mr. Budd, and the blinking countenance of Mr. Tomlinson.

Mr. Dempster held his hat in his hand, and poked his head forward with a butting motion by way of bow.  A storm of cheers subsided at last into dropping sounds of ‘Silence!’ ‘Hear him!’ ‘Go it, Dempster!’ and the lawyer’s rasping voice became distinctly audible.

’Fellow-townsmen!  It gives us the sincerest pleasure—­I speak for my respected colleagues as well as myself—­to witness these strong proofs of your attachment to the principles of our excellent Church, and your zeal for the honour of our venerable pastor.  But it is no more than I expected of you.  I know you well.  I’ve known you for the last twenty years to be as honest and respectable a set of ratepayers as any in this county.  Your hearts are sound to the core!  No man had better try to thrust his cant and hypocrisy down your throats.  You’re used to wash them with liquor of a better flavour.  This is the proudest moment in my own life, and I think I may say in that of my colleagues, in which I have to tell you that our exertions in the cause of sound religion and manly morality have been crowned with success.  Yes, my fellow-townsmen!  I have the gratification of announcing to you thus formally what you have already learned indirectly.  The pulpit from which our venerable pastor has fed us with sound doctrine for half a century is not to be invaded by a fanatical, sectarian, double-faced, Jesuitical interloper!  We are not to have our young people