water bubble and smoke in the trough under my nose. Truly, we public
characters have a tough time of it! And among all the town officers,
chosen at the annual meeting, where is he that sustains, for a single
year, the burden of such manifold duties as are imposed in perpetuity,
upon the Town Pump?

The title of town treasurer is rightfully mine, as guardian of the best
treasure the town has. The overseers of the poor ought to make me their
chairman since I provide bountifully for the pauper, without expense to
him that pays taxes. I am at the head of the fire department, and one of
the physicians of the board of health. As a keeper of the peace all
water drinkers confess me equal to the constable. I perform some of the
duties of the town clerk, by promulgating public notices, when they am
pasted on my front.

To speak within bounds, I am chief person of the municipality, and
exhibit, moreover, an admirable pattern to my brother officers by the
cool, steady, upright, downright, and impartial discharge of my
business, and the constancy with which I stand to my post. Summer or
winter, nobody seeks me in vain; for, all day long I am seen at the
busiest corner, just above the market, stretching out my arms to rich
and poor alike; and at night I hold a lantern over my head, to show
where I am, and to keep people out of the gutters.

At this sultry noontide, I am cupbearer to the parched populace, for
whose benefit an iron goblet is chained to my waist. Like a dram seller
on the public square, on a muster day, I cry aloud to all and sundry, in
my plainest accents, and at the very tiptop of my voice, "Here it is,
gentlemen! Here is the good liquor! Walk up, walk up, gentlemen, walk
up, walk up! Here is the superior stuff! Here is the unadulterated ale
of father Adam! better than cognac, Hollands, Jamaica, strong beer, or
wine of any price; here it is by the hogshead or the single glass, and
not a cent to pay. Walk up, gentlemen, walk up, and help yourselves!"

It were a pity if all this outcry should draw no customers. Here they
come. A hot day, gentlemen. Quaff and away again, so as to keep
yourselves in a nice, cool sweat. You, my friend, will need another
cupful to wash the dust out of your throat, if it be as thick there as
it is on your cowhide shoes. I see that you have trudged half a score of
miles to-day, and, like a wise man, have passed by the taverns, and
stopped at the running brooks and well curbs. Otherwise, b