The only trouble is that as Number 6 stands upon the Town Hall steps, his arm raised in recognition of the electorate, no-one is cheering. No-one is applauding the new Number 2. Instead they look upon him with suspicion. And playing mutedly in the background, the quintessential English “For he’s a jolly good fellow.” There seems irony in the song being played, as no-one standing there in the street joins in.
“For he's a jolly good fellow, for he's a jolly good fellow
For he's a jolly good fellow (pause), and so say all of us
And so say all of us, and so say all of us
For he's a jolly good fellow, for he's a jolly good fellow
For he's a jolly good fellow (pause), and so say all of us!”
Number 6 may have apparently won the election, but The Village is a Rotten Borough, one in which Number 1 controls the electorate, the electorate who is told who to vote for. And Number 6 is not a “jolly good fellow” because in all probability he’s only looking out for himself. Like all good politicians Number 6’s promises appeared to ring richly in the ears of The Village electorate. But in the end the election was nothing but a façade, another of Number 2’s games. And the English like playing games, and like so many games it’s not the winning that’s important, it’s the taking part, and how you play the game that really counts. Number 6 takes part alright, but he’s not yet learned how to “play the game.” Until he does he can never win!
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