It is a nuisance to which no man should subject himself in any weather.  But when it rains there is superadded a squalor and an ill humour to all the party which makes it almost impossible for them not to quarrel before the day is over.  To talk politics to Mrs Bubbs under any circumstances is bad, but to do so with the conviction that the moisture is penetrating from your greatcoat through your shirt to your bones, and that while so employed you are breathing the steam from those seven other wet men, at the door, is abominable.  To have to go through this is enough to take away all the pride which a man might otherwise take from becoming a member of Parliament.  But to go through it and then not become a member is base indeed!  To go through it and to feel that you are probably paying the rate of a hundred pounds a day for the privilege is mot disheartening.  Silverbridge as he backed up Tregear in the uncomfortable work, congratulated himself on the comfort of having a Mr Sprugeon and Mr Sprout who could manage his borough for him without a contest.

They worked on that day all the morning till one, when they took luncheon, all reeking with wet, at the King’s Head,—­so that a little money might be legitimately spent in the cause.  Then, at two, they sallied out again, vainly endeavouring to make their twenty calls within the hour.  About four, when it was beginning to be dusk, they were very tired, and Silverbridge had ventured to suggest that as they were all wet through, and as there was to be another meeting in the Assembly Room that night, and as nobody in that part of town seemed to be at home, they might perhaps be allowed to adjourn for the present.  He was thinking how nice it would be to have a glass of brandy-and-water and then lounge till dinner-time.  But the philosophers received the proposition with stern disdain.  Was his Lordship aware that Mr Carbottle had been out all day from eight in the morning, and was still at work; that the Carbottleites had already sent for lanterns and were determined to go on till eight o’clock among the artisans who would then have returned from their work?  When a man had put his hand to the plough, the philosophers thought that a man should complete the furrows!

The philosophers’ view had just carried the day, the discussion having been held under seven or eight wet umbrellas at the corner of a dirty little lane leading into the High Street, when suddenly, on the other side of the way, Mr Carbottles cortege made its appearance.  The philosophers at once informed them that on such occasions it was customary that the rival candidates should be introduced.  ‘It will take ten minutes,’ said the philosophers; ‘but then it will take them ten minutes too.’  Upon this Tregear, as being the younger of the two, crossed over the road, and the introduction was made.