"but who will challenge his squint-eyed looks
in kitchen, bathroom, under floorboards,rules of thumb which were often wrong"
How did Mr. Hubbard stay in business for so long if he was so poor at his craft? Seventy years of shoddy plumbing! But even after seventy years of sub-par work Mr. Hubbard still had people knocking on his door looking for his services. This alone speaks volumes for the character of the man that was once known as Alfred Hubbard. Mr. Hubbard must have had quite the personality and charm to stay in business for so long.
"Seventy years of gossip muttered"
This is a good indicator of why people liked him so much. Humans are nosy creatures. People would like to know what is going on in their neighborhood, especially if spoken behind closed doors. Knowing one's neighbors personal affairs or business may be advantageous to the right individual. I believe that most people love hearing gossip, especially bad gossip, is because it makes one feel better about his or her own life to know that people they know are doing worse. It is a sad trait, but a human trait none the less. I am not saying that people revel in the misery of others, but it is just something that you could look at and think to yourself, "Hey, at least I'm not that guy."
There is great irony in this poem. At the beginning I had assumed that Alfred was a superb plumber.
"No other like him"
This line made me think that he was top-notch. However, later in the poem, you realize that perhaps this was not the way it was meant to be taken. There was no other like Mr. Hubbard because it would seem that no other person could be so poor at his craft yet still have clients.
It makes me wonder, how shall this town fare without its town crier? Will the residents take to the other plumber, Thwaite, the way they enjoyed Mr. Hubbard's work/company?
"and the housewife banging his front-door knocker
is not surprised to find him gone,
and runs for Thwaite, who's a better worker,
and sticks at a job until it's done."
Yes, Thwaite may be a better worker, and may also finish the entire job. But will this be enough to satisfy the townspeople? Will the townspeople grow tired of the mechanically working Thwaite and long for the slow murmur of Alfred Hubbard? Or will the citizens be pleasantly surprised at the deftness and skill which Thwaite plumbs? Will the memory of Alfred Hubbard fade into the grave his body is now buried in, or will it be seared into the brain as a loose-lipped confidant that people yearn to have back? Only time shall tell.
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