[The Mayor of Troy by Sir Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch]@TWC D-Link book
The Mayor of Troy

PROLOGUE
3/5

Now _I_ am Chairman of that Commission, and yet the fellow declines to yield up his silver oar! We in Troy feel strongly about it.

It is not for nothing (we hold) that when he or his burgesses come down the river for a day's fishing the weather invariably turns dirty.

We mislike them even worse than a German band--which brings us no worse, as a rule, than a spell of east wind.
Nevertheless, the Mayor of Lestiddle is a jolly good fellow, and I am glad that his townsmen (such as they are) have re-elected him.
One day this last summer he came down to fish for mackerel at the harbour's mouth, which can be done at anchor since our sardine factory has taken to infringing the by-laws and discharging its offal on the wrong side of the prescribed limit.

(We Harbour Commissioners have set our faces against this practice, but meanwhile it attracts the fish.) It was raining, of course.

Rowing close up to me, the Mayor of Lestiddle asked--for we observe the ordinary courtesies-- what bait I was using.


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