Clarence Clark, M.P E-Book

Edgar Wallace

• Herausgeber: Al-Mashreq eBookstore
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Seitenzahl: 132

Beschreibung

Clarence Clark, M.P. by Edgar Wallace is a riveting political thriller that delves into the murky world of power, influence, and corruption. Clarence Clark, a rising star in Parliament, is known for his charm and political savvy. But when a scandal threatens to ruin his career and reputation, he is forced to navigate a treacherous maze of deceit, blackmail, and betrayal. With enemies on all sides and allies who may not be trustworthy, Clark must use every trick in the book to survive the political storm. Can he outmaneuver his opponents and hold on to his seat, or will the truth bring him down?

Leseprobe

Clarence Clark, M.P.

Author: Edgar Wallace

Edited by: Seif Moawad

Copyright © 2024 by Al-Mashreq eBookstore

As published in

Ideas, Hulton & Co., London, Dec 29, 1909-Mar 23, 1910

No part of this publication may be reproduced whole or in part in any form without the prior written permission of the author

All rights reserved.

Table of Contents

Clarence Clark, M.P.

I. — NOBBYNATION

II. — THE MASS MEETING

III. — A RADICAL CHANGE

IV. — THE POLL

V. — CLARK'S POLL PRODUCER

VI. — CLARK, M.P., CABINET MINISTER

VII. — A CABINET CRISIS

VIII. — "HOME RULE"

IX. — SETTLING THE LORDS

X. — CLARENCE CLARK'S BUDGET

XI. — "QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS"

A SCENE.

XII. — THE DEBATE

HOUSE OF COMMONS.

QUESTIONS.

AN AMUSIN' SPEECH.

IMPUDENT QUESTIONS.

VETO DEBATE.

DIVISION.

XIII. — THE LAST PHASE

Landmarks

Cover

I. — NOBBYNATION

First published in Ideas, Hulton & Co., London, Dec 29, 1909

For the next few weeks the General Election will absorb the attention of our hundreds of thousands of readers. In these circumstances, Mr. Clarence Clark's experience in connection with elections, and his views on a grave political crisis, may be, if not helpful, at least entertaining.—Editor, Ideas.

"ME father," sald Nobby Clark, thoughtfully, "in a manner of speakin' was one of the practicalest chaps you could imagine. He was one of them keen, grey-eyed men with business ability that you read about nowadays when the Tariff Reform candidate is bein' described by his favourite reporter. He had the country at heart; he used to carry a bit of it about in his pocket to chuck at any stray policeman he happened to see.

"When he saw our trade dwindlin', an' foreign-made goods comin' in to compete with British-made goods, he used to cry like a child.

"'Tariff Reform,' he used to say, 'means work for all—who want it. It means More Hands Wanted. I can see the day a-comin',' he sez, enthusiastic, 'when I shall be wearin' me boots out gettin' out of the way of work. An' what will that mean? More work for the shoemaker, more work for the pavement maker, more work for the manufacturer of police whistles. O England!' he sez, with tears in his eyes, 'oh, me country—as far as I know.'

"That's how elections always took father. I remember the last election. He was very bitter.

"'What!' he sez, tremblin' with emotion, 'what!' he sez, 'can I sleep in me bed at night with the thought of them poor Javanese fellers a-slavin' in the mines of Johannysburg? Is this what I might have died for, if I'd been a soldier—only I had more sense—is this what I squandered me blood an' treasure for?' he sez, horrow-stricken; 'is this the miners' war that me right honourable friend the member for Birmingham spoke of? Mr. Speaker, in the name of Humanity—whose address for the moment escapes me memory—in the name of our sacred Liberty! In the name of Wilberforce, and them other famous cocoa merchants—I protest!'

"I can see him now," said Nobby reflectively, "a little the worse for drink, but patriotic, holdin' on to a lamp-post an' addressin' his constituents.

"'Will you tax the people's food?' he sez, sternly. 'Will you take the bread out of the mouths of babes an' sucklin's? Will you rob the young an' the innercent of their beer? What did me right honourable friend, Mr. Gladstone, say in 1879? He sez, gentlemen of the jury, that your food will cost you more! 'Oh England,' he sez, anguishedly, 'Oh Ireland, Scotland, Wales, an' the Isle of Man! Is it for this brave Cobden fell gloriously fightin'?—if I'm wrong I will ask you to correct me—was it for this—'

"Then a copper would come an' shift him, an' father would return home very hurried.

"Father had these here moments of poetical feelln', if I may use the expression, because he was naturally of a poetical turn of mind. I never knew a feller who could turn out poetry like me Father—that was why he was such a popular feller at elections.

"There wasn't any subject me father couldn't write poetry about. He'd write poetry to the landlord when he was asked for his rent; he'd write kind poetry, an' hard-hearted poetry.

"I shall never forget the poem he wrote to the landlady at the 'Star an' Mitre'' when he was falsely accused of pinchin' pots. It was in all the papers:

"'Oh woman with the serpent's tongue!

Oh blonmin' clever Mrs. Bung!'

"it started. I can only remember little bits of it:

"'Thy lies would put me in the dock;

Thy face would nearly stop a clock;

Thy evidence would get me hung,

Oh woman with the serpent's tongue!'

"Oh woman with the serpent's tongue."

"It created a rare sensation that poem. The landlady was goin' to summon me father for defamation of character, an' our local paper took it up, an' a young poet named Cornelius Ox (that's as unlikely a name as I can think of) wrote a reply:

"'Oh poet with a funny face,

It's nearly time you knew your place,

Oh poet with the coward's pen,

Retire into your loathsome den.'

"The history of that controversy—if you will forgive the vulgar word,"—said Nobby, solemnly, "will be remembered for many years. Poem follered poem in rapid succession. Me father took up a position on the enemy's flank, an' sent verse after verse from his famous quick-firin' fountain pen, an' the enemy retorted briskly. On the Monday mornin' me father got the range an' dropped a sonnet into the trenches, but Cornelius Ox, rapidly takin' cover, sniped me father with a little trifle entitled 'An Ode to a Piece of Dirt.' Though sorely harassed, me father replied gallantly, an' a limerick which began 'There once was a dud named Ox, Who never changed his sox,' was aimed with deadly precision.

"I forget how the battle ended, but you can be sure of one thing: Me father won.

"But it wasn't only because he was a great poet that me father was, in a manner of speakin', in such demand. He was, to use a foreign expression, an orator. He was the feller to move an audience! If you turned the hose on 'em, you couldn't move 'em quicker than me father did. There was his famous speech at Limehouse—you've heard of that? Never mind about anybody else, it was me father that made Limehouse famous.

"'What!' he sez, 'shall we groan under the tyranny of the turnip-headed lords? (Cries of No, no!) Shall we put back the clock of progress to closin' time?—(cheers)—or shall we march triumphant to glory or thereabouts, over the mangled remains of the enemies of the people?'"

(The speaker resumed his seat amidst loud an' continued cheerin', the right hon. gentleman havin' spoken for an hour an' twenty-three minutes by Greenwich time).

"Somebody ought to make a collection of me father's speeches; he'd look well in a nice red cover, an' gilt edges—the speeches I mean."

"One of the first signs of a general election is the rush they make for him. Both sides have a cut. For a day or two all is suspense. Which side will Clark go on? People walk about the streets scarcely darin' to hope. Little groups stand at the street corners. Will me father sign on for the Millwall Tariff Reform Team, or will he throw in his lot with the Manchester United Lord Lamers? The newspaper bills come out every half hour: 'Has Clark joined the M.U.L.L.?' 'Sinister Rumours about Clark.' At eleven o'clook at night the news is out! 'Clark signs on for the M.T.R.!'

"The feelin' is too tense for cheerin'; strong men shake hands not trustin' theirselves—or each other—to speak. A great sigh goes up. The spell of suspense is broken; the traffic is resumed.

"'It has been an anxious time (writes our special correspondent).

 First one side, then the other, seemed to gain an advantage, but the strong man standin' with one hand

 gracefully restin' on the zinc counter of the private bar an' his other leg crossed, stood emotionless.

 Ever an' anon, he would, in the absent-minded manner of the truly great, attempt to drink out of an empty glass, an' one of those present would immediately order the glass to be refilled,

 Mr. Clark thankin' him with a gentle smile; this amusin' lapse on the part of the honoured gentleman

 occurred twenty or thirty tines durin' the evenin'—truly, even the Great Ones of the Earth have human weaknesses!'

"The deed is done, me father is adopted, there's a last despairin' effort by the cursed opposition. Can they get him transferred to their team? Can he be disqualified for foul tactics an' warned off the field? No, the die is cast, he's burnt his boots, he's crossed the what-d'-ye-call-it.

"North an' south, east an' west, the message is flashed. The gold miner on the Gold Coast, sittin' on a nugget, reads the news an' wipes his horny brow; the Arctic explorer sittin' on the North Pole reads the news an' buries his face in his hands. Clark is standin'! Clark has been nominated for Millwall!

"An' now begins what I might call the stern business of the campaign. The first thing me father does is to borrow a bit on account. The next thing is to find out what the election's about. He buys a newspaper. Horrow! 'Jerry M. fell at the last fence but two'—no, that isn't it. He looks in another part of the paper! 'A farthin' damages'—no, that can't be it. Ah! here it is. 'Tariff Reform means hard labour for all.' Me father grasps the deadly significance an' hesitates. Is it worth the sacrifice? Will they make him work! Can they, any way? I think not.

"An' now the newspapers are pourin' forth their scurrilous abuse, or just appreciation.

"What does the Milwall Kicker say?

"Mr. Clark embodies all the virtues of John Bright, Joseph Chamberlain, and Mr. Barnum. He is one of England's brightest hopes—we're the other one. When we gaze upon his classic face—whether high classic or no classic, we leave our readers to judge—we are reminded of Julius Caesar's well-known remark:

"The Elliman's was so rubbed in him

That naturally you say to all the world

Is this a man?"'

"But all the comments ain't quite as favourable. There's the Tottenham Hotspur Tidin's, an' the Chelsea Wonders Globe.

"Says the Tidin's:

"'We congratulate Millwall upon its purchase. Ha, he—excuse us laughin'—ha, ha! Who is the disreputable dog with the funny face who has escaped from Wandsworth Goal an' offers himself as a candidate for Millwall? We will open our readers' eyes.

"Carence Clark was convicted at the Middlesex Sessions...' (here follows a list of convictions); 'turn over the page an' begin at the top of the third column. We have shown enough, we hope, to prove that the impudent...' (two columns of low abuse).

"What does the Globe say? The Globe is Independent:

"'We think,' sez the "Globe," 'that it is quite possible that Millwall has chosen wisely. On the other hand it is quite possible that it hasn't. You never can tell. We have nothin' to say against Mr. Clark. At the same time we've nothin' to say in his favour. Let us leave the question there, desirin', as we do, to maintain a statesman-like attitude.'

"The campaign begins in earnest. Wherever me father goes he is follered by a cheerin' crowd throwin' bokays, some of 'em tastefully got up to look like bricks, an' weighin' as much as seven pounds.

"Wherever me father goes he is follered by a cheerin' crowd."

"On all walls an' hoardin's bills appear by magic:

"'VOTE FOR CLARENCE CLARK, THE FRIEND OF THE PEOPLE.'

"an' in little letters underneath:

"'Who Vote For Him.'

"Will Clark win? That is the question on every tongue. Will he pull down the Government majority an' give a line to the country?

'Interviewed by our special political correspondent, Mr. Clark said:

"'We are winnin' all along the line: Everywhere I meet with encouragement in me arduous an' difficult campaign. I am fightin' a fight for England. I am fightin' for clean finance—an' even dirty finance as long as it's money. Will I abolish prisons? You may tell your readers that that is the first plank in me bed: Am I in favour of blokes for women? I am. What's my opinion about the Navy? It's a splendid idea. I wonder nobody thought of it before. Yes," sez Mr. Clark in conclusion, "I am a supporter of the House of Lords. I believe in it havin' a free hand: I don't approve of the tied-house system—you never know whether you're talkin' to the Bung or the Barman."'

"Pop'lar feelin' runs higher an' higher: the Milwall Kicker publishes me father's oughtto-be-ography.

"'Our fearless candidate is the son (we hope) of the late Sir Swaffer Clark, of Clark Hall, Clerkenwell, E.C. Born at a very early age, the brilliant politician grew with such rapidity that he was 21 before his elder brother had reached 16. His record of public service is a splendid one. Inspector of Pavements 1880-1890. Inspector of Prisons 1890-'91 (six months), '92 (three months), '93 (twelve months)—an' honourably mentioned at the Assizes, an' so forth.'

"In this brief an' hurried way," said Nobby Clark, "I sketch, if I may say so, the beginnin' of me father's campaign, a campaign that shook, so to speak, the political world to its foundations.

"Of how me father held his first big meetin' with me right honourable friend Arthur Balfour in the chair, of how he scotched the old-age pension lie, an' what he said about Lloyd George we will tell next week."

II. — THE MASS MEETING

First published in Ideas, Hulton & Co., London, Jan 5, 1910

Here is the second of the election stories, as told by Nobby Clark, of his unspeakable parent.

 Our readers will observe that in relating the adventures of his father,

 Nobby keeps very close in touch with current politics, 

and those who follow the series cannot fail to observe the sly reference

 of the author to the speeches and policies of the contemporary situation

, and incidentally the amusing parodies of the "journalistic touch" which fill these stories.—Editor, Ideas.

"WHEN we left me father last week," said Nobby Clark, "he was havin' a drink with his agent. So I didn't happen to mention the fact: it's true, all the same. Whenever I don't tell you what me father was doin', you can put him down in the private bar of 'The Bald-Headed Stag.'

"The campaign had commenced. Millwall was stirred to its dep's; it was announced that a mass meetin' would be held addressed by me Right Honourable friend Smith. Have you ever seen Smith? He looks like eighteen an' talks like eighty.* He's the boy for the Socialists.

[* Can this be F. E. Smith?]

"'A gentleman in the audience sez, "Rot!" he sez. (Laughter.) 'Would he mind obligin' us with his address as well as his name?' (Loud laughter, in which the Right Honourable gentleman joined.)

"That's the sort of feller Smith is. Balfour is another feller. What a man! What a memory!

"'Me hon. an' gallant friend with the false teeth,' he sez, 'asks me to define me position. (Cheers.) I wouldn't if I could an' I couldn't if I would;' an' whilst the audience is thinkin' the answer out, the Right Honourable gentleman slid down the rain pipe into the street.

"It's useless for me," explained Nobby, "to go through the list of me father's leaders. You've probably heard of 'em. There's the Right Honourable Austen.