he determination of Mr. Muntz to stand aloof from the
party in this election, and it was hinted that if the Conservatives
should retain the seat, Mr. Muntz personally would be to blame.
Muntz heard it all pretty quietly, and at length, greatly to the
astonishment of most who were there, who were not even aware of his
being present, his stalwart figure rose, like an apparition, at the
back of the gallery. Standing on a seat so as to make himself seen,
he shouted out, "Mr. Chairman!" The applause which greeted him was
met with sober silence by Mr. Scholefield's friends. He went on--I
remember his very words--"I was going into the Reform Club the other
day, and on the steps I met Joe Parkes: you all know Joe Parkes. Well,
he said to me, 'I say, Muntz, you must coalesce with Scholefield.' I
said, 'I shan't do anything of the sort; it is no part of my duty to
dictate to my constituents who shall be my colleague, and I shan't do
it.' 'Well,' he said, 'if you don't, I shall recommend the electors
to plump against you.' Well, I gave him a very short and a very plain
answer: I told him they might plump and be damned!" The uproar, the
laughter, the shouts that ensued cannot be adequately described. In
the midst of the din, Muntz coolly stooped, took a large orange from
his hat, bit a piece out of it, which he threw away, and then
facing that mighty and excited crowd, proceeded to suck away in as
unconcerned a manner as if no one were present but himself. When the
noise had somewhat subsided, he commenced an elaborate defence of his
conduct, and said he had been taunted with being too proud to ask for
the votes of the electors. "That's not the reason," he said; "I knew
I had done my duty as your representative, and that I deserved your
votes; and I knew that I should get them without asking; but if it is
any satisfaction to anybody, I take this opportunity to ask you
now, collectively, to vote for me. As for your second vote, that has
nothing to do with me. Choose whom you may, I shall work cheerfully
with him as a colleague, and I have no fear of the result."

This little speech was altogether characteristic of the man. It
showed his stubborn wilfulness, his intense egotism, his coarseness of
manner, and his affectation of eccentricity. But it exhibited also the
fact that he thoroughly understood that he was liked by the bulk of
Birmingham people, and that he knew the majority of unthinking men
would take his bluntness for manlin