Tales of the Five Towns, by 
Arnold Bennett 
 
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Title: Tales of the Five Towns 
Author: Arnold Bennett 
Release Date: August 25, 2004 [EBook #13293] 
Language: English 
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES OF 
THE FIVE TOWNS *** 
 
Produced by Jonathan Ingram and PG Distributed Proofreaders 
 
TALES 
OF THE FIVE TOWNS 
By
ARNOLD BENNETT 
* * * * * 
First published January 1905 
* * * * * 
TO 
MARCEL SCHWOB 
MY LITERARY GODFATHER IN FRANCE 
* * * * * 
 
CONTENTS 
 
PART I 
AT HOME 
HIS WORSHIP THE GOOSEDRIVER THE ELIXIR OF YOUTH 
MARY WITH THE HIGH HAND THE DOG A FEUD PHANTOM 
TIDDY-FOL-LOL THE IDIOT 
 
PART II 
ABROAD 
THE HUNGARIAN RHAPSODY THE SISTERS QITA NOCTURNE 
AT THE MAJESTIC CLARICE OF THE AUTUMN CONCERTS A
LETTER HOME 
* * * * * 
 
 
PART I 
AT HOME 
* * * * * 
 
HIS WORSHIP THE GOOSEDRIVER 
I 
It was an amiable but deceitful afternoon in the third week of 
December. Snow fell heavily in the windows of confectioners' shops, 
and Father Christmas smiled in Keats's Bazaar the fawning smile of a 
myth who knows himself to be exploded; but beyond these and similar 
efforts to remedy the forgetfulness of a careless climate, there was no 
sign anywhere in the Five Towns, and especially in Bursley, of the 
immediate approach of the season of peace, goodwill, and gluttony on 
earth. 
At the Tiger, next door to Keats's in the market-place, Mr. Josiah 
Topham Curtenty had put down his glass (the port was kept specially 
for him), and told his boon companion, Mr. Gordon, that he must be 
going. These two men had one powerful sentiment in common: they 
loved the same woman. Mr. Curtenty, aged twenty-six in heart, 
thirty-six in mind, and forty-six in looks, was fifty-six only in years. He 
was a rich man; he had made money as an earthenware manufacturer in 
the good old times before Satan was ingenious enough to invent 
German competition, American tariffs, and the price of coal; he was 
still making money with the aid of his son Harry, who now managed
the works, but he never admitted that he was making it. No one has yet 
succeeded, and no one ever will succeed, in catching an earthenware 
manufacturer in the act of making money; he may confess with a sigh 
that he has performed the feat in the past, he may give utterance to a 
vague, preposterous hope that he will perform it again in the remote 
future, but as for surprising him in the very act, you would as easily 
surprise a hen laying an egg. Nowadays Mr. Curtenty, commercially 
secure, spent most of his energy in helping to shape and control the 
high destinies of the town. He was Deputy-Mayor, and Chairman of the 
General Purposes Committee of the Town Council; he was also a 
Guardian of the Poor, a Justice of the Peace, President of the Society 
for the Prosecution of Felons, a sidesman, an Oddfellow, and several 
other things that meant dining, shrewdness, and good-nature. He was a 
short, stiff, stout, red-faced man, jolly with the jollity that springs from 
a kind heart, a humorous disposition, a perfect digestion, and the 
respectful deference of one's bank-manager. Without being a member 
of the Browning Society, he held firmly to the belief that all's right with 
the world. 
Mr. Gordon, who has but a sorry part in the drama, was a younger, 
quieter, less forceful person, rather shy; a municipal mediocrity, 
perhaps a little inflated that day by reason of his having been elected to 
the Chairmanship of the Gas and Lighting Committee. 
Both men had sat on their committees at the Town Hall across the way 
that deceitful afternoon, and we see them now, after refreshment well 
earned and consumed, about to separate and sink into private life. But 
as they came out into the portico of the Tiger, the famous Calypso-like 
barmaid of the Tiger a hovering enchantment in the background, it 
occurred that a flock of geese were meditating, as geese will, in the 
middle of the road. The gooseherd, a shabby middle-aged man, looked 
as though he had recently lost the Battle of Marathon, and was asking 
himself whether the path of his retreat might not lie through the 
bar-parlour of the Tiger. 
'Business pretty good?' Mr. Curtenty inquired of him cheerfully. 
In the Five Towns business takes the    
    
		
	
	
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