door, round which are gathered five or six sturdy fellows, dumb as fishes.  No one sits in the chair.  In the unnatural silence that reigns, the distant sound of the wheezy church organ and voices singing can be heard.

TAUSTAFORD. [After a prolonged clearing of his throat] What I mean to zay is that ‘tes no yuse, not a bit o’ yuse in the world, not duin’ of things properly.  If an’ in case we’m to carry a resolution disapprovin’ o’ curate, it must all be done so as no one can’t, zay nothin’.

Sol Potter.  That’s what I zay, Mr. Trustaford; ef so be as ’tis to be a village meetin’, then it must be all done proper.

Freman.  That’s right, Sot Potter.  I purpose Mr. Sot Potter into the chair.  Whu seconds that?

     [A silence.  Voices from among the dumb-as-fishes:  “I du.”]

Clyst. [Excitedly] Yu can’t putt that to the meetin’.  Only a chairman can putt it to the meetin’.  I purpose that Mr. Burlacombe—­ bein as how he’s chairman o’ the Parish Council—­take the chair.

Freman.  Ef so be as I can’t putt it, yu can’t putt that neither.

Trustaford.  ‘Tes not a bit o’ yuse; us can’t ‘ave no meetin’ without a chairman.

Godleigh.  Us can’t ‘ave no chairman without a meetin’ to elect un, that’s zure. [A silence.]

Morse. [Heavily] To my way o’ thinkin’, Mr. Godleigh speaks zense; us must ‘ave a meetin’ before us can ’ave a chairman.

Clyst. Then what we got to du’s to elect a meetin’.

Burlacombe. [Sourly] Yu’ll not find no procedure far that.

     [Voices from among the dumb-as fishes:  “Mr. Burlacombe ’e
     oughter know.”]

Sol Potter. [Scratching his head—­with heavy solemnity] ’Tes my belief there’s no other way to du, but to elect a chairman to call a meetin’; an’ then for that meetin’ to elect a chairman.

Clyst. I purpose Mr. Burlacombe as chairman to call a meetin’.

Freman.  I purpose Sol Potter.

Godleigh.  Can’t ‘ave tu propositions together before a meetin’; that’s apple-pie zure vur zurtain.

     [Voice from among the dumb-as fishes:  “There ain’t no meetin’
     yet, Sol Potter zays.”]

Trustaford.  Us must get the rights of it zettled some’ow.  ’Tes like the darned old chicken an’ the egg—­meetin’ or chairman—­which come virst?

Sol Potter. [Conciliating] To my thinkin’ there shid be another way o’ duin’ it, to get round it like with a circumbendibus.  ’T’all comes from takin’ different 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.