We were sitting yesterday after dinner, the two ladies and
myself, very composedly, and without the least apprehension of any
such intrusion in our snug parlour, one lady knitting, the other
netting, and the gentleman winding worsted, when to our unspeakable
surprise a mob appeared before the window; a smart rap was heard at
the door, the boys halloo'd, and the maid announced Mr. Grenville.
Puss was unfortunately let out of her box, so that the candidate, with
all his good friends at his heels, was refused admittance at the grand
entry, and referred to the back door, as the only possible way of
approach. Candidates are creatures not very susceptible of affronts,
and would rather, I suppose, climb in at a window, than be absolutely
excluded. In a minute, the yard, the kitchen, and the parlour, were
filled. Mr. Grenville, advancing toward me, shook me by the hand with
a degree of cordiality that was extremely seducing. As soon as he and
as many more as could find chairs, were seated, he began to open the
intent of his visit. I told him I had no vote, for which he readily
gave me credit. I assured him I had no influence, which he was not
equally inclined to believe, and the less, no doubt, because Mr.
Ashburner, the draper, addressing himself to me at this moment,
informed me that I had a great deal. Supposing that I could not be
possessed of such a treasure without knowing it, I ventured to confirm
my first assertion, by saying, that if I had any I was utterly at a
loss to imagine where it could be, or wherein it consisted.
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