[Of which, quoth G., I hold the winding sheets.]
Again, great Gausden rose, with this remark –
“Now then, my pals, begins the jolly lark!
The manner, sir, in which I introduce
This matter, sir, to check the fast and loose –
If my conceptions rightly do opine –
Will make the magnates of the Council whine.
Your votes illegal I proceed to prove;”
His Worshipful the May’r began to move,
Which Gausden saw, and with a firm resolve
A deeper cut his Worship did involve.
“I say – and while I say it don’t presume
The May’r or clerk or others to impugn;
Forthwith I speak upon a business
Of which the nature you begin to guess.
Your weighty meetings in a stern compact
Are regulated by an ancient Act
Municipal, of eighteen-forty-two,
Which hath its guidance both for me and you;
And from the spirit of that Act, sir, now,
Your votes illegal I proceed to show.”
Some cried hear, hear! And some sang out chair, chair!
But Gausden’s head was lost in upper air.
Then he proceeded matters to discuss
Which quickly caused a most confounded fuss.
“Your public meetings only serve to show
How to the burgesses you give the go;
You blind the people as to what is right,
But I will undeceive them, sir, to-night.
You overpass the int’rest of the town,
And kick this Council, backside, up and down.”
Chair, chair! and Question, question! rang out now;
The gods were moved ‘twas certain that a row
Was on the tapis, for the yellow lines
Began to show themselves amidst the blues.
“Thus saith the Act, no member with himself
Shall make a contract, looking unto pelf[a].
No Councillor shall ever make a grant
Unto himself; the Act declares he sha’nt.
I plainly tell your Worshipful, the Mayor,
That Act is not repealed; so, sir, beware!”
“Pray, Mr. Moorgame* in whose law we trust [*Growse, town clerk]
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