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ON HIS WAY THROUGH THE WORLD 687
this collision, this injury, perhaps death of Woolcomb and his lawyer,
arose out of our fine joke about the Man and the Brother.
We dashed down the stairs from the "Ram" — Hornblow,
Philip, and half-a-dozen more—and made a way through the crowd
towards the carriage, with its prostrate occupants. The mob
made way civilly for the popular candidate—the losing candidate.
When we reached the chaise, the traces had been cut ; the horses
were free ; the fallen postillion was up and rubbing his leg ; and,
as soon as the wheelers were taken out of the chaise, Woolcomb
emerged from it. He had said from within (accompanying his
speech with many oaths, which need not be repeated, and showing
a just sense of his danger), " Cut the traces, hang you ! And take
the horses away : I can wait until they're gone. I'm sittin' on my
lawyer ; I ain't going to have my head kicked off by those wheelers."
And just as we reached the fallen postchaise he emerged from it,
laughing and saying, " Lie still, you old beggar !" to Mr. Bradgate,
who was writhing underneath him. His issue from the carriage
was received with shouts of laughter, which increased prodigiously
when Yellow Jack, nimbly clambering up the statue railings,
thrust the outstretched arm of the statue through the picture of
the Man and the Brother, and left that cartoon flapping in the
air over Woolcomb's head.
Then a shout arose, the like of which has seldom been heard
in that quiet little town. Then Woolcomb, who had been quite
good-humoured as he issued out of the broken postchaise, began to
shriek, curse, and revile more shrilly than before ; and was heard,
in the midst of his oaths, and wrath, to say, " He would give any
man a shillin' who would bring him down that confounded thing !"
Then scared, bruised, contused, confused, poor Mr. Bradgate came out
of the carriage, his employer taking not the least notice of him.
Hornblow hoped Woolcomb was not hurt, on which the little
gentleman turned round and said, "Hurt? No: who are you ?
Is no fellah goin' to bring me down that confounded thing ? I'll
give a shillin', I say, to the fellah who does !"
"A shilling is offered for that picture!" shouts Philip with
a red face, and wild with excitement. "Who will take a whole
shilling for that beauty ?"
On which Woolcomb began to scream, curse, and revile more
bitterly than before. "You here ? Hang you, why are you here ?
Don't come bullyin' me. Take that fellah away, some of you fellahs.
Bradgate, come to my committee-room. I won't stay here, I say.
Let's have the beast of a carriage, and _______ Well, what's up now ?"
While he was talking, shrieking, and swearing, half-a-dozen
shoulders in the crowd-had raised the carriage up on its three wheels.