I Shall Finish With Another Story Which Might Be Entitled "The Democrat
Against Curtseying." The Scene Was A Rustic Village, A Good Many Miles
From Any Railroad Station, In The South Of England.
Here I made the
acquaintance and was much in the society of a man who was not a native
of the place, but had lived several years in it.
Although only a
working man, he had, by sheer force of character, made himself a power
in the village. A total abstainer and non-smoker, a Dissenter in
religion and lay-preacher where Dissent had never found a foothold
until his coming, and an extreme Radical in politics, he was naturally
something of a thorn in the side of the vicar and of the neighbouring
gentry.
But in spite of his extreme views and opposition to old cherished ideas
and conventions, he was so liberal-minded, so genial in temper, so
human, that he was very much liked even by those who were his enemies
on principle; and they were occasionally glad to have his help and to
work with him in any matter that concerned the welfare of the very poor
in the village.
After the first bitterness between him and the important inhabitants
had been outlived and a modus vivendi established, the vicar
ventured one day to remonstrate with the good but mistaken man on the
subject of curtseying, which had always been strictly observed in the
village. The complaint was that the parishioner's wife did not curtsey
to the vicaress, but on the contrary, when she met or passed her on the
road she maintained an exceedingly stiff, erect attitude, which was not
right, and far from pleasant to the other.
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