about calling themselves
captains, and fancy themselves, sir, as good as if they wore the
Queen's uniform!"

"Well, then, can't we find another householder--some cantankerous dog
who don't mind a row?"

Yes, the cantankerous dog was found, in the person of Mr. John
Penruddock, coal-merchant, who had quarrelled with Tardrew, because
Tardrew said he gave short weight--which he very probably did--and had
quarrelled also with Thomas Beer, senior, shipbuilder, about right of
passage through a back-yard.

Mr. Penruddock suddenly discovered that Mr. Beer kept up a dirt-heap
in the said back-yard, and with virtuous indignation vowed "he'd sarve
the old beggar out at last."

So far so good. The weapons of reason and righteousness having failed,
Tom felt at liberty to borrow the devil's tools. Now to pack a vestry,
and to nominate a local committee.

The vestry was packed; the committee nominated: of course half of
them refused to act--they "didn't want to go quarrelling with their
neighbours."

Tom explained to them cunningly and delicately that they would have
nothing to do; that one or two (he did not say that he was the one,
and the two also) would do all the work, and bear all the odium;
whereon the malcontents subsided, considering it likely that, after
all, nothing would be done.

Some may fancy that matters were now getting somewhat settled. Those
who do so know little of the charming machinery of local governments.
One man has "summat to say,"--utterly irrelevant. Another must needs
answer him with something equally irrelevant; a long chatter ensues,
in spite of all cries to order and question. Soon one and another gets
personal, and temper shows here and there. You would fancy that the
go-ahead party try to restore order, and help business on. Not in the
least. They have begun to cool a little. They are a little afraid that
they have committed themselves. If people quarrel with each other,
perhaps they may quarrel with them too. And they begin to be
wonderfully patient and impartial, in the hope of staving off the evil
day, and finding some excuse for doing nothing after all. "Hear 'mun
out!" ... "Vair and zoft, let ev'ry man ha' his zay!" ... "There's
vary gude rason in it!" ... "I didn't think of that avore;"--and so
forth; till in a quarter of an hour the whole question has to be
discussed over again, through the fog of a dozen fresh fallacies, and
the miserable earnest man finds himself considerably worse