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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 19:53:59 -0700 |
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diff --git a/30551-h/30551-h.htm b/30551-h/30551-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..faf0e62 --- /dev/null +++ b/30551-h/30551-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,12926 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII" /> +<title>The Humourous Story of Farmer Bumpkin's Lawsuit, by Richard Harris</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + P.gutsumm { margin-left: 5%;} + P.poetry {margin-left: 3%; } + H1, H2 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + } + H3, H4, H5 { + text-align: left; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + table { border-collapse: collapse; } +table {margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto;} + td { vertical-align: top; border: 1px solid black;} + td p { margin: 0.2em; } + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .pagenum {position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + color: gray; + } + + div.gapspace { height: 0.8em; } + div.gapline { height: 0.8em; width: 30%; } + div.gapdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 50%; + margin-left: 25%; border-top: 1px solid; + border-bottom: 1px solid;} + div.gapshortline { height: 0.3em; width: 20%; margin-left:40%; + border-top: 1px solid; } + .citation {vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: none;} + img.floatleft { float: left; + margin-right: 1em; + margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; } + img.floatright { float: right; + margin-left: 1em; margin-top: 0.5em; + margin-bottom: 0.5em; } + img.clearcenter {display: block; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0.5em; + margin-bottom: 0.5em} + --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Humourous Story of Farmer Bumpkin's +Lawsuit, by Richard Harris + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Humourous Story of Farmer Bumpkin's Lawsuit + + +Author: Richard Harris + + + +Release Date: November 27, 2009 [eBook #30551] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HUMOUROUS STORY OF FARMER +BUMPKIN'S LAWSUIT*** +</pre> +<p>Transcribed from the 1883 Stevens and Sons edition by David +Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org</p> +<h1><span class="smcap">the</span><br /> +HUMOUROUS STORY<br /> +<span class="smcap">of</span><br /> +FARMER BUMPKIN’S LAWSUIT:</h1> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">by</span><br /> +RICHARD HARRIS,</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">barrister-at-law</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">author of</span> “<span +class="smcap">hints on advocacy</span>,” <span +class="smcap">etc.</span>, <span class="smcap">etc.</span></p> +<p style="text-align: center">SECOND EDITION.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center">LONDON:<br /> +STEVENS AND SONS, 119, CHANCERY LANE,<br /> +Law Publishers and Booksellers.<br /> +1883.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><!-- page iv--><a +name="pageiv"></a><span class="pagenum">p. iv</span><span +class="smcap">london</span>:<br /> +<span class="smcap">bradbury</span>, <span +class="smcap">agnew</span>, & <span class="smcap">co.</span>, +<span class="smcap">printers</span>, <span +class="smcap">whitefriars</span>.</p> +<h2><!-- page v--><a name="pagev"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +v</span>PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION.</h2> +<p>Considering the enormous interest which the Public have in +“a more efficient and speedy administration of +justice,” I am not surprised that a Second Edition of +“Mr. Bumpkin’s Lawsuit” should be called for so +soon after the publication of the first. If any proof were +wanting that I had not overstated the evils attendant on the +present system, it would be found in the case of +<i>Smitherman</i> v. <i>The South Eastern Railway Company</i>, +which came before the House of Lords recently; and judgment in +which was delivered on the 16th of July, 1883. The facts of +the case were extremely simple, and were as follow:—A man +of the name of Smitherman was killed on a level crossing of <!-- +page vi--><a name="pagevi"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +vi</span>the South Eastern Railway Company at East Farleigh, in +December, 1878. His widow, on behalf of herself and four +children, brought an action against the Company on the ground of +negligence on the part of the defendants. The case in due +course was tried at the Maidstone Assizes, and the plaintiff +obtained a verdict for £400 for herself and £125 for +each of the children. A rule for a new trial was granted by +the Divisional Court: the rule for the new trial was discharged +by the Court of Appeal. The Lords reversed the decision of +the Court of Appeal, and ordered a new trial. New trial +took place at Guildhall, City of London, before Mr. Baron +Pollock; jury again found for the plaintiff, with £700 +<i>agreed</i> damages: Company thereby saving £200. +Once more rule for new trial granted by Divisional Court: once +more rule discharged by Court of Appeal: once more House of Lords +reverse decision of Court of Appeal, and order <i>second new +trial</i>. So <!-- page vii--><a name="pagevii"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. vii</span>that after more than four years of +harassing litigation, this poor widow and her children are left +in the same position that they were in immediately after the +accident—except that they are so much the worse as being +liable for an amount of costs which need not be calculated. +The case was tried by competent judges and special juries; and +yet, by the subtleties of the doctrine of contributory +negligence, questions of such extreme nicety are raised that a +third jury are required to give an opinion <i>upon the same state +of facts</i> upon which two juries have already decided in favour +of the plaintiff and her children.</p> +<p>Such is the power placed by our complicated, bewildering, and +inartistic mode of procedure, in the hands of a rich Company.</p> +<p>No one can call in question the wisdom or the learning of the +House of Lords: it is above criticism, and beyond censure; but +the <!-- page viii--><a name="pageviii"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. viii</span>House of Lords itself works upon +the basis of our system of Procedure, and as that is neither +beyond criticism nor censure, I unhesitatingly ask, <i>Can Old +Fogeyism and Pettifoggism further go</i>?</p> +<p style="text-align: right">RICHARD HARRIS.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Lamb Building</span>, <span +class="smcap">Temple</span>,<br /> + <i>October</i>, 1883.</p> +<h2><!-- page ix--><a name="pageix"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +ix</span>PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.</h2> +<p>When Old Fogeyism is being lowered to his last resting place, +Pettifoggism, being his chief mourner, will be so overwhelmed +with grief that he will tumble into the same grave. How +then to hasten the demise of this venerable Humbug is the +question. Some are for letting him die a natural death, +others for reducing him gradually by a system of slow starvation: +for myself, I confess, I am for knocking him on the head at +once. Until this event, so long wished for by all the +friends of Enlightenment and Progress, shall have happened, there +will be no possibility of a Reform which will lessen the needless +expense and shorten the unjustifiable delay which our present +system of legal procedure occasions; a system which gives to the +rich immeasurable <!-- page x--><a name="pagex"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. x</span>advantages over poor litigants; and +amounts in many cases not only to a perversion of justice but to +a denial of it altogether.</p> +<p>Old Fogeyism only tinkers at reform, and is so nervous and +incompetent that in attempting to mend one hole he almost +invariably makes two. The Public, doubtless, will, before +long, undertake the much needed reform and abolish some of the +unnecessary business of “judges’ chambers,” +where the ingenuity of the Pettifogging Pleader is so +marvellously displayed. How many righteous claims are +smothered in their infancy at this stage of their existence!</p> +<p>I have endeavoured to bring the evils of our system before the +Public in the story of Mr. Bumpkin. The solicitors, equally +with their clients, as a body, would welcome a change which would +enable actions to be carried to a legitimate conclusion instead +of being stifled by the “Priggs” and +“Locusts” who will crawl into an honorable +profession. It is impossible to keep them out, but it is +not impossible to prevent their using the profession to the +injury of their clients. All respectable solicitors would +<!-- page xi--><a name="pagexi"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +xi</span>be glad to see the powers of these unscrupulous +gentlemen curtailed.</p> +<p>The verses at the end of the story have been so often +favourably received at the Circuit Mess, that I thought an +amplified version of them in prose would not be unacceptable to +the general reader, and might ultimately awaken in the public +mind a desire for the long-needed reform of our legal +procedure.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">RICHARD HARRIS.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Lamb Building</span>, <span +class="smcap">Temple</span>,<br /> + <i>July</i>, 1883.</p> +<h2><!-- page xiii--><a name="pagexiii"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. xiii</span>ADVERTISEMENT.</h2> +<p>On the 4th of December, 1882, Our Gracious Queen, on the +occasion of the opening of the Royal Courts of Justice, +said:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“I trust that the uniting together in one +place of the various branches of Judicature in this my Supreme +Court, will conduce to the <i>more efficient</i> and +<i>speedy</i> administration of justice to my +subjects.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>On April 20th, 1883, in the House of Commons, Mr. H. H. Fowler +asked the Attorney-General whether he was aware of the large +number of causes waiting for trial in the Chancery Division of +the High Court, and in the Court of Appeal; and whether the +Government proposed to take any steps to remedy the delay and +increased cost occasioned to the suitors by the present +administration of the Judicature Acts.</p> +<p>The Attorney-General said the number of cases of all +descriptions then waiting for trial in the Chancery Division was +848, and in the Court of Appeal 270. The House would be +aware that a committee of Judges had been engaged for some time +in framing rules in the <!-- page xiv--><a +name="pagexiv"></a><span class="pagenum">p. xiv</span>hope of +getting rid of some of the delay that now existed in the hearing +of cases; and until those rules were prepared, which would be +shortly, the Government were not desirous of interfering with a +matter over which the Judges had jurisdiction. The +Government were now considering the introduction of a short +Judicature Act for the purpose of lessening the +delay.—<i>Morning Post</i>.</p> +<p>[No rules or short Judicature Act at present!] <a +name="citation0a"></a><a href="#footnote0a" +class="citation">[0a]</a></p> +<p>On the 13th April, 1883, Mr. Glasse, Q.C., thus referred to a +statement made by Mr. Justice Pearson of the Chancery Division: +“The citizens of this great country, of which your Lordship +is one of the representatives, will look at the statement you +have made with respectful amazement.” The statement +appears to <!-- page xv--><a name="pagexv"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. xv</span>have been, that his Lordship had +intended to continue the business of the Court in exactly the +same way in which it had been conducted by Mr. Justice Fry; but +he had been informed that he would have to take the interlocutory +business of Mr. Justice Kay’s Court whilst his Lordship +<i>was on Circuit</i>; and, as it was requisite that he should +take his own interlocutory business <i>before the causes set down +for hearing</i>, “<span class="smcap">all the Causes in the +two Courts must go to the wall</span>”!!! His +Lordship added, that it would be necessary for him to rise at 3 +o’clock every day (not at 3 o’clock in the +<i>morning</i>, gentle reader), because he understood he should +have to conduct the business of Mr. Justice Kay’s Chambers +as well as his own.—<i>Morning Post</i>.</p> +<p>On the 16th April, 1883, Mr. Justice Day, in charging the +Grand Jury at the Manchester Spring Assizes, expressed his +disagreement with the opinion of the other Judges in favour of +the Commission being so altered that the Judge would have to +“<i>deliver all the prisoners detained in gaol</i>,” +and regarded it as “a waste of the Judge’s time that +he should have to try a case in which a woman was indicted for +<i>stealing a shawl worth</i> 3<i>s.</i> 9<i>d.</i>; or a +prisoner charged with stealing <i>two mutton pies</i> and <i>two +ounces of bacon</i>.”—<i>Evening Standard</i>.</p> +<table> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><h2><!-- page xvii--><a name="pagexvii"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. xvii</span>CONTENTS.</h2> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER I.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Shows the Beauty of a Farm Yard on a Sabbath-Day, and what +a difference a single letter will sometimes make in the legal +signification of a Sentence</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page1">1</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER II.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Simplicity and Enjoyments of a Country life +depicted</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page11">11</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER III.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Showing how true it is that it takes at least Two to make +a Bargain or a Quarrel</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page17">17</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER IV.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>On the extreme Simplicity of Going to Law</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page27">27</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER V.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>In which it appears that the Sting of Slander is not +always in the Head</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page35">35</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER VI.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Showing how the greatest Wisdom of Parliament may be +thrown away on Ungrateful People</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page45">45</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER VII.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Showing that Appropriateness of Time and Place should be +studied in our Pastimes</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page55">55</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center"><!-- page +xviii--><a name="pagexviii"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +xviii</span>CHAPTER VIII.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Pleasure of a Country Drive on a Summer Evening +described as enhanced by a Pious Mind</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page63">63</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER IX.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>A Farm-house Winter Fire-side—A morning Drive and a +mutual interchange of Ideas between Town and Country, showing how +we may all learn something from one another</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page71">71</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER X.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The last Night before the first London Expedition, which +gives occasion to recall pleasant reminiscences</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page87">87</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XI.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Commencement of London Life and Adventures</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page97">97</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XII.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>How the great Don O’Rapley became an Usher of the +Court of Queen’s Bench, and explained the Ingenious +Invention of the Round Square—How Mr. Bumpkin took the +water and studied Character from a Penny Steamboat</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page105">105</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XIII.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>An interesting Gentleman—showing how true it is that +one half the World does not know how the other half lives</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page111">111</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XIV.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Old Bailey—Advantages of the New System +illustrated</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page119">119</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XV.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Mr. Bumpkin’s Experience of London Life enlarged</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page133">133</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center"><!-- page xix--><a +name="pagexix"></a><span class="pagenum">p. xix</span>CHAPTER +XVI.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The coarse mode of Procedure in Ahab <i>versus</i> Naboth +ruthlessly exposed and carefully contrasted with the humane and +enlightened form of the Present Day</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page143">143</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XVII.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Showing that Lay Tribunals are not exactly Punch and Judy +Shows where the Puppet is moved by the Man underneath</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page151">151</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XVIII.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>A comfortable Evening at the “Goose”</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page165">165</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XIX.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Subject continued</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page175">175</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XX.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Mr. Bumpkin sings a good old Song—The Sergeant +becomes quite a convivial Companion and plays Dominoes</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page179">179</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XXI.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Joe electrifies the Company and surprises the Reader</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page191">191</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XXII.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Sergeant makes a loyal Speech and sings a Song, both +of which are well received by the Company</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page203">203</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XXIII.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The famous Don O’Rapley and Mr. Bumpkin spend a +social Evening at the “Goose”</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page213">213</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center"><!-- page xx--><a +name="pagexx"></a><span class="pagenum">p. xx</span>CHAPTER +XXIV.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Don O’Rapley expresses his views of the Policy of +the Legislature in not permitting Dominoes to be played in +Public-houses</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page221">221</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XXV.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>In spite of all warnings, Joe takes his own part, not to +be persuaded on one side or the other—Affecting Scene +between Mr. Bumpkin and his old Servant</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page227">227</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XXVI.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Morning Reflections—Mrs. Oldtimes proves herself to +be a great Philosopher—The Departure of the Recruits to be +sworn in</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page239">239</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XXVII.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>A Letter from Home</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page245">245</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XXVIII.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Mr. Bumpkin determines to maintain a discreet silence +about his Case at the Old Bailey—Mr. Prigg confers with him +thereon</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page255">255</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XXIX.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Trial at the Old Bailey of Mr. Simple Simonman for +Highway Robbery with violence—Mr. Alibi introduces himself +to Mr. Bumpkin</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page261">261</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XXX.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Mr. Alibi is stricken with a Thunderbolt—Interview +with Horatio and Mr. Prigg</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page283">283</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XXXI.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Mr. Bumpkin at Home again</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page295">295</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center"><!-- page xxi--><a +name="pagexxi"></a><span class="pagenum">p. xxi</span>CHAPTER +XXXII.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Joe’s Return to Southwood—An Invitation from +the Vicar—What the Old Oak saw</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page303">303</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XXXIII.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>A Consultation as to new Lodgings—Also a +Consultation with Counsel</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page317">317</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XXXIV.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Mr. Bumpkin receives Compliments from distinguished +Persons</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page325">325</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XXXV.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Trial</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page335">335</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XXXVI.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Motion for Rule <i>Nisi</i>, in which is displayed much +Learning, Ancient and Modern</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page351">351</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XXXVII.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Mr. Bumpkin is congratulated by his Neighbours and Friends +in the Market Place and sells his Corn</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page359">359</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER +XXXVIII.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Farewell</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page375">375</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p><span class="smcap">The Lawsuit</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page381">381</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<blockquote><p><!-- page xxiii--><a name="pagexxiii"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. xxiii</span>“<i>He never suffered his +private partiality to intrude into the conduct of publick +business</i>. <i>Nor in appointing to employments did he +permit solicitation to supply the place of merit</i>; <i>wisely +sensible</i>, <i>that a proper choice of officers is almost the +whole of Government</i>.”—<span +class="smcap">Burke</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p><!-- page xxiv--><a name="pagexxiv"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. xxiv</span><i>Extract from Notice of the Work +in</i> <span class="smcap">The Saturday Review</span>, +<i>September</i> 15<i>th</i>, 1883:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“He was obviously quite as eager for a good +battle in Court as ever was Dandy Dinmont.”</p> +</blockquote> +<h2><!-- page 1--><a name="page1"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +1</span>CHAPTER I.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">The beauty of a farm yard on a Sabbath day, +and what a difference a single letter will sometimes make in the +legal signification of a sentence.</p> +<p>It was during the Long Vacation—that period which is +Paradise to the Rich and Purgatory to the Poor Lawyer—to +say nothing of the client, who simply exists as a necessary evil +in the economy of our enlightened system of Legal Procedure: it +was during this delightful or dismal period that I returned one +day to my old Farm-house in Devonshire, from a long and +interesting ramble. My excellent thirst and appetite having +been temperately appeased, I seated myself cosily by the huge +chimney, where the log was always burning; and, having lighted my +pipe, surrendered my whole being to the luxurious enjoyment of so +charming a situation. I had scarcely finished smoking, when +I fell into a sound and delicious sleep. And behold! I +dreamed a dream; and methought:</p> +<p>It was a beautiful Sabbath morning, in the early part of May, +18--, when two men might have been seen leaning over a +pigstye. The pigstye was situated in a <!-- page 2--><a +name="page2"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 2</span>farm-yard in +the lovely village of Yokelton, in the county of Somerset. +Both men had evidently passed what is called the “prime of +life,” as was manifest from their white hair, wrinkled +brows, and stooping shoulders. It was obvious that they +were contemplating some object with great interest and thoughtful +attention.</p> +<p>And I perceived that in quiet and respectful conversation with +them was a fine, well-formed, well-educated sow of the Chichester +breed. It was plain from the number of her rings that she +was a sow of great distinction, and, indeed, as I afterwards +learned, was the most famous for miles around: her progeny (all +of whom I suppose were honourables) were esteemed and sought by +squire and farmer. How that sow was bred up to become so +polite a creature, was a mystery to all; because there were +gentlemen’s homesteads all around, where no such +thoroughbred could be found. But I suppose it’s the +same with pigs as it is with men: a well-bred gentleman may work +in the fields for his living, and a cad may occupy the +manor-house or the nobleman’s hall.</p> +<p>The Chichester sow looked up with an air of easy nonchalance +into the faces of the two men who smoked their short pipes, and +uttered ever and anon some short ejaculation, such as, +“Hem!” “Ah!” “Zounds!” and so +forth, while the sow exhibited a familiarity with her superiors +only to be acquired by mixing in the best society. There +was a respectful deference which, while it betrayed no sign of +servility, was in pleasing contrast with the boisterous and +somewhat unbecoming levity of the other inhabitants of the +stye. These people were the last progeny of this +illustrious Chichester, and numbered <!-- page 3--><a +name="page3"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 3</span>in all +eleven—seven sons and four daughters—honourables +all. It was impossible not to admire the high spirit of +this well-descended family. That they had as yet received +no education was due to the fact that their existence dated only +from the 21st of January last. Hence their somewhat erratic +conduct, such as jumping, running, diving into the straw, boring +their heads into one another’s sides, and other +unceremonious proceedings in the presence of the two gentlemen +whom it is necessary now more particularly to describe.</p> +<p>Mr. Thomas Bumpkin, the elder of the two, was a man of about +seventy summers, as tall and stalwart a specimen of Anglo-Saxon +peasantry as you could wish to behold. And while I use the +word “peasantry” let it be clearly understood that I +do so in no sense as expressing Mr. Bumpkin’s present +condition. He had risen from the English peasantry, and was +what is usually termed a “self-made man.” He +was born in a little hut consisting of “wattle and +dab,” and as soon as he could make himself heard was sent +into the fields to “mind the birds.” Early in +the November mornings, immediately after the winter sowings, he +would be seen with his little bag of brown bread round his neck, +trudging along with a merry whistle, as happy as if he had been +going home to a bright fire and a plentiful breakfast of ham, +eggs, and coffee. By degrees he had raised himself to the +position of ploughman, and never ploughman drove a straighter or +leveller furrow. He had won prizes at the annual ploughing +and harrowing matches: and upon the strength of ten and sixpence +a week had married Nancy Tugby, to whom he had been engaged off +and on for eleven years. Nancy was a frugal housewife, and +worked hard, morning, noon and night. She was quite a +treasure <!-- page 4--><a name="page4"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 4</span>to Bumpkin; and, what with taking in a +little washing, and what with going out to do a little charing, +and what with Tom’s skill in mending cart-harness (nearly +all the cart-harness in the neighbourhood was in a perpetual +state of “mendin’”), they had managed to put +together in a year or two enough money to buy a sow. This, +Tom always said, was “his first start.” And +mighty proud they both were as they stood together of a Sunday +morning looking at this wonderful treasure. The sow soon +had pigs, and the pigs got on and were sold, and then the money +was expended in other things, which in their turn proved equally +remunerative. Then Tom got a piece of land, and next a pet +ewe-lamb, and so on, until little by little wealth accumulated, +and he rented at last, after a long course of laborious years, +from the Squire, a small homestead called “Southwood +Farm,” consisting of some fifty acres. Let it not be +supposed that the accession of an extra head of live stock was a +small matter. Everything is great or little by +relation. I believe the statesman himself knows no greater +pleasure when he first obtains admission to the Cabinet, than Tom +did when he took possession of his little farm. And he +certainly experienced as great a joy when he got a fresh pig as +any young barrister does when he secures a new client.</p> +<p>Southwood Farm was a lovely homestead, situated near a very +pretty river, and in the midst of the most picturesque +scenery. The little rivulet (for it was scarcely more) +twisted about in the quaintest conceivable manner, almost +encircling the cosy farm; while on the further side rose abruptly +from the water’s edge high embankments studded thickly with +oak, ash, and an undergrowth of saplings of almost every +variety. The old house was spacious for <!-- page 5--><a +name="page5"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 5</span>the size of the +farm, and consisted of a large living-room, ceiled with massive +oak beams and oak boards, which were duly whitewashed, and looked +as white as the sugar on a wedding cake. The fireplace was +a huge space with seats on either side cut in the wall; while +from one corner rose a rude ladder leading to a bacon loft. +Dog-irons of at least a century old graced the brick hearth, +while the chimney-back was adorned with a huge slab of iron +wrought with divers quaint designs, and supposed to have been in +some way or other connected with the Roman invasion, as it had +been dug up somewhere in the neighbourhood, by whom or when no +one ever knew. There was an inner chamber besides the one +we are now in, which was used as a kitchen; while on the opposite +side was a little parlour with red-tiled floor and a +comparatively modern grate. This was the reception room, +used chiefly when any of the ladies from +“t’Squoire’s” did Mrs. Bumpkin the honour +to call and taste her tea-cakes or her gooseberry wine. The +thatched roof was gabled, and the four low-ceiled bedrooms had +each of them a window in a gable. The house stood in a +well-stocked garden, beyond which was a lovely green meadow +sloping to the river side. In front was the little +farm-yard, with its double-bayed barn, its lean-to cow-houses, +its stables for five horses, and its cosy loft. Then there +were the pigstyes and the henhouses: all forming together a very +convenient and compact homestead. Adjoining the home meadow +was a pretty orchard, full of apple, pear, cherry and plum trees; +and if any one could imagine that Mr. and Mrs. Bumpkin had no eye +or taste for the beautiful, I would have advised that +ill-conditioned person to visit those good people of a Sunday +morning after “brakfast” when <!-- page 6--><a +name="page6"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 6</span>the orchard was +in full blossom. This beautiful picture it was not only Mr. +and Mrs. Bumpkin’s special joy to behold, but their great +and proud delight to show; and if they had painted the blossoms +themselves they could not have felt more intense enjoyment and +satisfaction.</p> +<p>There was one other feature about the little farm which I must +mention, because it is one of the grandest and most beautiful +things in nature, and that is the magnificent “Old +Oak” that stood in the corner of one of the home fields, +and marked the boundary of the farm in that direction. If +the measure of its girth would be interesting to the reader to +know, it was just twenty-seven feet: not the largest in England +certainly, notwithstanding which the tree was one of the grandest +and most beautiful. It towered high into the air and spread +its stalwart branches like giant trees in all directions. +It was said to be a thousand years old, and to be inhabited by +owls and ghosts. Whether the ghosts lived there or not I am +unable to say, but from generation to generation the tradition +was handed down and believed to be true. Such was Mr. +Bumpkin’s home, in my dream: the home of Peace and Plenty, +Happiness and Love.</p> +<p>The man who was contemplating Mr. Bumpkin’s pigs on this +same Sunday morning was also a “self-made man,” whose +name was Josiah <span class="smcap">Snooks</span>. He was +not made so well as Bumpkin, I should say, by a great deal, but +nevertheless was a man who, as things go, was tolerably well put +together. He was the village coal-merchant, not a Cockerell +by any means, but a merchant who would have a couple of trucks of +“Derby Brights” down at a time, and sell them round +the village by the hundredweight. No doubt he was a very +thrifty man, and to the extent, so some people said, of nipping +the poor <!-- page 7--><a name="page7"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 7</span>in their weight. And once he +nearly lost the contract for supplying the coal-gifts at +Christmas on that account. But he made it a rule to attend +church very regularly as the season came round, and so did Mrs. +Josiah Snooks; and it will require a great deal of +“nipping” to get over that in a country village, I +promise you. I did not think Snooks a nice looking man, by +any means; for he had a low forehead, a scowling brow, a nobbly +fat nose, small eyes, one of which had a cast, a large mouth +always awry and distorted with a sneer, straight hair that hung +over his forehead, and a large scar on his right cheek. His +teeth were large and yellow, and the top ones protruded more, I +thought, than was at all necessary. Nor was he generally +beliked. In fact, so unpopular was this man with the poor, +that it was a common thing for mothers to say to their children +when they could not get them in of a summer’s evening, +“You, Betsy,” or “You, Jane, come in directly, +or old Snooks will have you!” A warning which always +produced the desired effect.</p> +<p>No one could actually tell whether Snooks had made money or +merely pretended to possess it. Some said they knew he had, +for he lived so niggardly; others said the coal trade was not +what it was; and there were not wanting people who hinted that +old Betty Bodger’s house and garden—which had been +given to her years ago by the old squire, what for, nobody +knew—had been first mortgaged to Josiah and then sold to +him and “taken out in coals.” A very cunning +man was Snooks; kept his own counsel—I don’t mean a +barrister in wig and gown on his premises—but in the sense +of never divulging what was in his sagacious mind. He was +known as a universal buyer of everything that he could turn a +penny out of; and he sold everybody whenever <!-- page 8--><a +name="page8"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 8</span>he got the +chance. Such was the character of old Snooks.</p> +<p>How then came our good guileless friend Bumpkin to be +associated with such a man on this beautiful Sunday +morning? I can only answer: there are things in this world +which admit of no explanation. This, so far as I am +concerned, was one.</p> +<p>“They be pooty pork,” said Mr. Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“Middlin’,” rejoined the artful Snooks.</p> +<p>“They be a mighty dale more an middlin’, if you +come to thic,” said the farmer.</p> +<p>“I’ve seen a good deal better,” remarked +Snooks. This was always his line of bargaining.</p> +<p>“Well, I aint,” returned Bumpkin, +emphatically. “Look at that un—why, he be fit +for anything—a regler pictur.”</p> +<p>“What’s he worth?” said Snooks. +“Three arf crowns?” That was Snooks’ way +of dealing.</p> +<p>“Whisht!” exclaimed Bumpkin; “and four +arf-crowns wouldn’t buy un.” That was +Bumpkin’s way.</p> +<p>Snooks expectorated and gave a roar, which he intended for a +laugh, but which made every pig jump off its feet and dive into +the straw.</p> +<p>“I tell ’ee what, maister Bumpkin, I doant want +un”—that was his way again; “but I doant mind +giving o’ thee nine shillings for that un.”</p> +<p>“Thee wunt ’ave un—not a farden less nor ten +if I knows it; ye doant ’ave we loike that, nuther—ye +beant sellin’ coals, maister Snooks—no, nor +buyin’ pigs if I knows un.”</p> +<p>How far this conversation would have proceeded, and whether +any serious altercation would have arisen, I know not; but at +this moment a combination of <!-- page 9--><a +name="page9"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 9</span>circumstances +occurred to interrupt the would-be contracting parties. +First, Mrs. Bumpkin, who had been preparing the Sunday dinner, +came across the yard with her apron full of cabbage-leaves and +potato-peelings, followed by an immense number of chickens, while +the ducks in the pond clapped their wings, and flew and ran with +as much eagerness as though they were so many lawyers seeking +some judicial appointment, and Mrs. Bumpkin were Lord High +Chancellor of Great Britain; and they made as much row as a flock +of Chancery Barristers arguing about costs. Then came +along, with many a grunt and squeak, a pig or two, who seemed to +be enjoying a Sunday holiday in their best clothes, for they had +just come out of a puddle of mud; then came slouching along, a +young man whose name was Joe (or, more correctly speaking, Joseph +Wurzel), a young man of about seventeen, well built, tall and +straight, with a pleasant country farm-house face, a roguish +black eye, even teeth, and a head of brown straight hair, that +looked as if the only attention it ever received was an +occasional trimming with a reap-hook, and a brush with a +bush-harrow.</p> +<p>It was just feeding time; that was why Joe came up at this +moment; and in addition to all these circumstances, there came +faintly booming through the trees the ding of the old church +bell, reminding Mr. Bumpkin that he must “goo and smarten +oop a bit” for church. He already had on his purple +cord trousers, and, as Joe termed it, his hell-fire waistcoat +with the flames coming out of it in all directions; but he had to +put on his drab “cooat” and white smock-frock, and +then walk half a mile before service commenced. He always +liked to be there before the Squire, and see him and his +daughters, Miss Judith and Miss Mary, come in.</p> +<p><!-- page 10--><a name="page10"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +10</span>So he had to leave the question of the +“walley” of the pig and attend to the more important +interests of his immortal soul. But now as he was going +comes the point to which the reader’s special attention is +directed. He had got about six yards from the stye, or it +may have been a little more, when Snooks cried out:</p> +<p>“I’ve bought un for nine and six.”</p> +<p>To which Mr. Bumpkin replied, without so much as turning his +head—</p> +<p>“’Ave ur.”</p> +<p>Now this expression, according to Chitty on Contracts, would +mean, “Have you, indeed? Mr. Snooks.” But the +extreme cunning of Josiah converted it into “’Ave +un,” which, by the same learned authority would signify, +“Very well, Mr. Snooks, you can have him.”</p> +<h2><!-- page 11--><a name="page11"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +11</span>CHAPTER II.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">The simplicity and enjoyments of a country +life depicted.</p> +<p>A quiet day was Sunday on Southwood Farm. Joe used to +slumber in the meadows among the buttercups, or in the loft, or +near the kitchen-fire, as the season and weather invited. +That is to say, until such time as, coming out of Sunday School +(for to Sunday School he sometimes went) he saw one of the +fairest creatures he had ever read about either in the Bible or +elsewhere! It was a very strange thing she should be so +different from everybody else: not even the clergyman’s +daughters—no, nor the Squire’s daughters, for the +matter of that—looked half so nice as pretty Polly +Sweetlove, the housemaid at the Vicar’s.</p> +<p>“Now look at that,” said Joe, as he went along the +lane on that Sunday when he first beheld this divine +creature. “I’m danged if she beant about the +smartest lookin o’ any on ’em. Miss Mary beant +nothing to her: it’s a dandelion to a toolup.”</p> +<p>So ever since that time Joe had slept less frequently in the +hay-loft on a Sunday afternoon; and, be it said to his credit, +had attended his church with greater punctuality. The vicar +took great notice of the lad’s religious tendencies, and +had him to his night-school at the vicarage, in consequence; and +certainly no vicar ever <!-- page 12--><a name="page12"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 12</span>knew a boy more regular in his +attendance. He was there waiting to go in ever so long +before the school began, and was always the very last to leave +the premises.</p> +<p>Often he would peep over the quick-set hedge into the +kitchen-window, just to catch a glance of this lovely +angel. And yet, so far as he could tell, she had never +looked at him. When she opened the door, Joe always felt a +thrill run through him as if some extraordinary thing had +happened. It was a kind of jump; and yet he had jumped many +times before that: “it wasn’t the sort of +jump,” he said, “as a chap gits either from +bein’ frit or bein’ pleased.” And what to +make of it he didn’t know. Then Polly’s cap was +about the loveliest thing, next to Polly herself, he had ever +seen. It was more like a May blossom than anything else, or +a beautiful butterfly on the top of a water-lily. In fact, +all the rural images of a rude but not inartistic mind came and +went as this country boy thought of his beautiful Polly. As +he ploughed the field, if he saw a May-blossom in the hedgerow, +it reminded him of Polly’s cap; and even the little gentle +daisy was like Polly herself. Pretty Polly was +everywhere!</p> +<p>Mr. and Mrs. Bumpkin, on a fine Sabbath afternoon, would take +their pastime in the open air. First Mr. Bumpkin would take +down his long churchwarden pipe from its rack on the ceiling, +where it lay in close companionship with an ancient flint-gun; +then he would fill it tightly, so as to make it last the longer, +with tobacco from his leaden jar; and then, having lighted it, he +and his wife would go out of the back door, through the garden +and the orchard, and along by the side of the quiet river. +By their side, as a matter of course, came <!-- page 13--><a +name="page13"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 13</span>Tim the +Collie (named after Mrs. Bumpkin’s grandfather Timothy), +who knew as well as possible every word that was being +said. If Mrs. Bumpkin only asked, “Where is +Betsy?” (that was the head Alderney cow) Tim would bark and +fly across to the meadow where she was; and then, having said to +her and to the five other Alderney cows and four heifers, +“Why, here’s master and missus coming round to look +at you, why on earth don’t you come and see them?” up +the whole herd would come, straggling one after the other, to the +meadow where Mr. and Mrs. Bumpkin were waiting for them; and all +would look over the hedge, as much as to say, “How +d’ye do, master, and how d’ye do, missus; what a nice +day, isn’t it?” exactly in the same manner as men and +women greet one another as often as they meet. And then +there was the old donkey, Jack, whom Tim would chaff no matter +when or where he saw him. I believe if Tim had got him in +church, he would have chaffed him. It was very amusing to +see Jack duck his head and describe a circle as Tim swept round +him, barking with all his might, and yet only laughing all the +while. Sometimes Jack, miscalculating distances—he +wasn’t very great at mathematics—and having no eye +for situations, would kick out vigorously with his hind legs, +thinking Tim was in close proximity to his heels; whereas the +sagacious and jocular Tim was leaning on his outstretched +fore-feet immediately in front of Jack’s head.</p> +<p>Then there was another sight, not the least interesting on +these afternoon rambles: in the far meadow, right under +“the lids,” as they were called, lived the famous +Bull of Southwood Farm. He was Mrs. Bumpkin’s +pet. She had had him from a baby, and used to feed him in +<!-- page 14--><a name="page14"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +14</span>his infant days from a bottle by the kitchen fire. +And so docile was he that, although few strangers would be safe +in intruding into his presence, he would follow Mrs. Bumpkin +about, as she said, “just like a Christian.” +The merits of this bull were the theme, on all appropriate +occasions, of Mrs. Bumpkin’s unqualified praise. If +the Vicar’s wife called, as she sometimes did, to see how +Mrs. Bumpkin was getting on, Mrs. Bumpkin’s +“baby” (that is the bull) was sure to be brought +up—I don’t mean by the nurse, but in +conversation. No matter how long she waited her +opportunity, Mrs. Goodheart never left without hearing something +of the exploits of this remarkable bull. In truth, he was a +handsome, well-bred fellow. He had come from the +Squire’s—so you may be sure his breed was gentlemanly +in the extreme; and his grandmother, on the maternal side, had +belonged to the Bishop of Winchester; so you have a sufficient +guarantee, I hope, for his moral character and orthodox +principles. Indeed, it had been said that no dissenter +dared pass through the meadow where he was, in consequence of his +connection with the Establishment. Now, on the occasions +when Mr. and Mrs. Bumpkin took their walks abroad through the +meadows to see their lambkins and their bull skip, this is what +would invariably happen. First, Mrs. Bumpkin would go +through the little cosy-looking gate in the corner of the meadow, +right down by the side of the old boat-house; then Mr. Bumpkin +would follow, holding his long pipe in one hand and his ash-stick +in the other. Then, away in the long distance, at the far +end of the meadow (he was always up there on these occasions), +stood “Sampson” (that was the bull), with his head +turned right round towards his master and mistress, as <!-- page +15--><a name="page15"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 15</span>if he +were having his photograph taken. Thus he stood for a +moment; then down went his huge forehead to the ground; up went +his tail to the sky; then he sent a bellow along the earth which +would have frightened anybody but his “mother,” and +started off towards his master and mistress like a ship in a +heavy sea; sometimes with his keel up in the air, and sometimes +with his prow under water: it not only was playful, it was +magnificent, and anybody unaccustomed to oxen might have been a +little terrified by the furious glare of his eyes and the +terrible snort of his nostrils as he approached.</p> +<p>Not so Mrs. Bumpkin, who held out her hand, and +ejaculated,</p> +<p>“My pretty baby; my sweet pet; good Sampson!” and +many other expressions of an endearing character.</p> +<p>“Good Sampson” looked, snorted, danced, plunged +and careered; and then came up and let Mrs. Bumpkin stroke and +pat him; while Bumpkin looked on, smoking his pipe peacefully, +and thinking what a fine fellow he, the bull, was, and what a +great man he, Bumpkin, must be to be the possessor of +“sich!”</p> +<p>Thus the peaceful afternoon would glide quietly and sweetly +away, and so would the bull, after the interesting interview was +over.</p> +<p>They always returned in time for tea, and then Mrs. Bumpkin +would go to evening service, while Mr. Bumpkin would wait for her +on the little piece of green near the church, where neighbours +used to meet and chat of a Sunday evening; such as old Mr. +Gosling, the market gardener, and old Master Mott, the head +gardener to the Squire, and Master Cole, the farmer, and various +others, the original inhabitants of Yokelton; discussing <!-- +page 16--><a name="page16"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +16</span>the weather and the crops, the probability of Mr. Tomson +getting in again at the vestry as waywarden; what kind of a +highway rate there would be for the coming year; how that horse +got on that Mr. Sooby bought at the fair; and various other +matters of importance to a village community. They would +also pass remarks upon any striking personage who passed them on +his way to church. Mr. Prigg, for instance, the village +lawyer, who, they said, was a remarkably upright and +down-straight sort of man; although his wife, they thought, was +“a little bit stuck up like” and gave herself airs a +little different from Mrs. Goodheart, who would “always +talk to ’em jist the same as if she was one o’ +th’ people.” So that, on the whole, they +entertained themselves very amicably until such time as the +“organ played the people out of church.” Then +every one looked for his wife or daughter, as the case might be, +and wished one another good night: most of them having been to +church in the morning, they did not think it necessary to repeat +the performance in the evening.</p> +<h2><!-- page 17--><a name="page17"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +17</span>CHAPTER III.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Showing how true it is that it takes at least +two to make a bargain or a quarrel.</p> +<p>The day after the events which I have recorded, while the good +farmer and his wife were at breakfast, which was about seven +o’clock, Joe presented himself in the sitting-room, and +said:</p> +<p>“Plase, maister, here be t’ money for t’ +pig.”</p> +<p>“Money for t’ pig,” exclaimed Mr. Bumpkin; +“what’s thee mean, lad? what pig?”</p> +<p>“Maister Snooks!” said Joe, “there ur be, +gwine wi’ t’ pig in t’ barrer.”</p> +<p>Nothing shall induce me to repeat the language of Mr. Bumpkin, +as he jumped up from the table, and without hat or cap rushed out +of the room, followed by Joe, and watched by Mrs. Bumpkin from +the door. Just as he got to the farmyard by one gate, there +was Snooks leaving it by another with Mr. Bumpkin’s pig in +a sack in the box barrow which he was wheeling.</p> +<p>“Hulloa!” shouted the farmer; “hulloa +here! Thee put un down—dang thee, what be this? +I said thee shouldn’t ave un, no more thee +sha’n’t. I beant gwine to breed Chichster pigs +for such as thee at thy own price, nuther.” Snooks +grinned and went on his way, saying;</p> +<p>“I bought un and I’ll ’ave un.”</p> +<p>“An I’ll ’ave thee, dang’d if I doant, +afore jussices; t’ Squoire’ll tell thee.”</p> +<p><!-- page 18--><a name="page18"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +18</span>“I doant keer for t’ Squire no more nor I do +for thee, old Bumpkin; thee be a cunnin’ man, but thee sold +I t’ pig and I’ll ’ave un, and I got un too: +haw! haw! haw! an thee got t’ +money—nine-and-six—haw! haw! haw!”</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin by this time came up to him, but was so much out +of breath, or “winded,” that he was unable to carry +on the conversation, so he just tapped the bag with his stick as +if to be certain the pig was there, and sure enough it was, if +you might judge by the extraordinary wriggling that went on +inside the bag.</p> +<p>The indomitable Snooks, however, with the largest and most +hideous grin I ever saw, pushed on with his barrow, and Mr. +Bumpkin having now sufficiently recovered his breath, said,</p> +<p>“Thee see ur tak un, didn’t thee, Joe?”</p> +<p>“Sure did ur,” answered the lad. “I +seed un took un clane out o’ the stye, and put un in the +sack, and wheeled un away.”</p> +<p>“Ha! so ur did, Joe; stick to that, lad—stick to +un.”</p> +<p>“And thee seed I pay th’ money for un, Joe, +didn’t thee?” laughed Snooks. “Seed I put +un on t’ poast, and thee took un oop—haw! haw! +haw! I got t’ pig and thee got t’ +money—haw! haw! haw! Thee thowt thee’d done I, +and I done thee—haw! haw! haw!”</p> +<p>And away went Snooks and away went pig; but Snooks’ +laugh remained, and every now and then Snooks turned his head and +showed his large yellow teeth and roared again.</p> +<p>The rage of Mr. Bumpkin knew no bounds. There are some +things in life which are utterly unendurable; and one is the +having your pig taken from you against your will and without your +consent—an act which would be described legally as <i>the +rape of the pig</i>. This offence, <!-- page 19--><a +name="page19"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 19</span>in Mr. +Bumpkin’s judgment, Snooks was guilty of; and therefore he +resolved to do that which is considered usually a wise thing, +namely, to consult a solicitor.</p> +<p>Now, if I were giving advice—which I do not presume to +do—I should say that in all matters of difficulty a man +should consult his wife, his priest, or his solicitor, and in the +order in which I have named them. In the event of +consulting a solicitor the next important question arises, +“What solicitor?” I could write a book on this +subject. There are numerous solicitors, within my +acquaintance, to whom I would entrust my life and my character; +there are some, not of my acquaintance, but of my knowledge, into +whose hands, if I had one spark of Christian feeling left, I +would not see my enemy delivered. There is little +difference between one class of men and another as to natural +disposition; and whether you take one or another, you must find +the shady character. But where the opportunities for +mischief are so great as they are in the practice of the Law, it +is necessary that the utmost care should be exercised in +committing one’s interests to the keeping of another. +Had Mr. Bumpkin been a man of the world he would have suspected +that under the most ostentatious piety very often lurked the most +subtle fraud. Good easy man, had he been going to buy a +hay-stack, he would not have judged by the outside but have put +his “iron” into it; he could not put his iron into +Mr. Prigg, I know, but he need not have taken him by his +appearance alone. I may observe that if Mr. Bumpkin had +consulted his sensible and affectionate spouse, or a really +respectable solicitor, this book would not have been +written. If he had consulted the Vicar, possibly another +book might have been written; but, as it was, he resolved to +consult <!-- page 20--><a name="page20"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 20</span>Mr. Prigg in the first +instance. Now Mrs. Bumpkin, except as the mother of the +illustrious Bull, has very little to do with this story. +Mr. Prigg is one of its leading characters; but in my description +of that gentleman I am obliged to be concise: I must minimize +Prigg, great as he is, and I trust that in doing so I shall +prospectively minimize all future Priggs that may ever appear on +the world’s stage. I do not attempt to pulverize him, +that would require the crushing pestle of the legislature; but +merely to make him as little as I can, with due consideration for +the requirements of my story.</p> +<p>I should be thought premature in mentioning Prigg, but that he +was a gentleman of great pretensions in the little village of +Yokelton. Gentleman by Act of Parliament, and in his own +estimation, you may be sure he was respected by all around +him. That was not many, it is true, for his house was the +last of the straggling village. He was a man of great piety +and an extremely white neck-cloth; attended the parish church +regularly, and kept his white hair well brushed upwards—as +though, like the church steeple, it was to point the way at all +times. He was the most amiable of persons in regard to the +distribution of the parish gifts; and, being a lawyer it was not +considered by the churchwardens, a blacksmith and a builder, safe +to refuse his kind and generous assistance. He involved the +parish in a law-suit once, in a question relating to the duty to +repair the parish pump; and since that time everyone knew better +than to ignore Mr. Prigg. I have heard that the money spent +in that action would have repaired all the parish pumps in +England for a century, but have no means of ascertaining the +truth of this statement.</p> +<p>Mr. Prigg was a man whose merits were not appreciated <!-- +page 21--><a name="page21"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +21</span>by the local gentry, who never asked him to +dinner. Virtue is thus sometimes ill-rewarded in this +world. And Mrs. Prigg’s virtue had also been equally +ignored when she had sought, almost with tears, to obtain tickets +for the County Ball.</p> +<p>Mr. Prigg was about sixty years old, methodical in his habits, +punctilious in his dress, polite in his demeanour, and precise in +his language. He wore a high collar of such remarkable +stiffness that his shoulders had to turn with his head whenever +it was necessary to alter his position. This gave an +appearance of respectability to the head, not to be acquired by +any other means. It was, indeed, the most respectable head +I ever saw either in the flesh or in marble.</p> +<p>Mr. Prigg had descended from the well-known family of Prigg, +and he prided himself on the circumstance. How often was he +seen in the little churchyard of Yokelton of a Sunday morning, +both before and after service, pointing with family pride to the +tombstone of a relative which bore this beautiful and touching +inscription:—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">here</span><br +/> +<span class="smcap">lie the ashes of</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Mr. John Prigg</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">of smith street</span>, <span +class="smcap">bristol</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">originally of duck green</span>, <span +class="smcap">yokelton</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">who under peculiar disadvantages</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">which to common minds</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">would have been a bar to any +exertions</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">raised himself from all obscure +situations</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">of birth and fortune</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">by his own industry and frugality</span><br +/> +<span class="smcap">to the enjoyment of a </span><span +class="smcap"><i>moderate competency</i></span>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">he attained a peculiar excellence</span><br +/> +<span class="smcap">in penmanship and drawing</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">without the instructions of a +master</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">and to eminence in arithmetic</span>,<br /> +<!-- page 22--><a name="page22"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +22</span><span class="smcap">the useful and the higher branches +of</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">the mathematics</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">by going to school only a year and eight +months</span>.</p> +<div class="gapshortline"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">he</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">died a bachelor</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">on the 24th day of october</span>, 1807,<br +/> +<span class="smcap">in the 55th year of his age</span>;<br /> +<span class="smcap">and without forgetting</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">relations friends and acquaintances</span><br +/> +<span class="smcap">bequeathed one fifth of his +property</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">to public charity</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">reader</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">the world is open to thee</span>.<br /> +“<span class="smcap">go thou and do likewise</span>.” +<a name="citation22"></a><a href="#footnote22" +class="citation">[22]</a></p> +<p>It was generally supposed that this beautiful composition was +from the pen of Mr. Prigg himself, who, sitting as he did so high +on his branch of the Family Tree,</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">could +look</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">with pride and sympathy</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">on</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">the manly struggles</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">of a humbler member</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">lower down</span>!</p> +<p>High Birth, like Great Wealth, can afford to condescend!</p> +<p>Mrs. Prigg was worthy of her illustrious consort. She +was of the noble family of the Snobs, and in every way did honour +to her progenitors. As the reader is aware, there is what +is known as a “cultivated voice,” the result of +education—it is absolutely without affectation: there is +also the voice which, in imitation of the well-trained one, is +little more than a burlesque, and is <!-- page 23--><a +name="page23"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 23</span>affected in +the highest degree: this was the only fault in Mrs. Prigg’s +voice.</p> +<p>Mr. Prigg’s home was charmingly small, but had all the +pretensions of a stately country house—its conservatory, +its drawing-room, its study, and a dining-room which told you as +plainly as any dining-room could speak, “I am related to +Donkey Hall, where the Squire lives: I belong to the same +aristocratic family.”</p> +<p>Then there was the great heavy-headed clock in the +passage. He did not appear at all to know that he had come +down in the world through being sold by auction for two pounds +ten. He said with great plausibility, “My worth is +not to be measured by the amount of money I can command; I am the +same personage as before.” And I thought it a very +true observation, but the philosophy thereof was a little +discounted by his haughty demeanour, which had certainly gone up +as he himself had come down; and that is a reason why I +don’t as a rule like people who have come down in the +world—they are sure to be so stuck up. But I do like +a person who has come down in the world and doesn’t at all +mind it—much better than any man who has got up in the +world from the half-crown, and does mind it upon all +occasions.</p> +<p>Mrs. Prigg, apart from her high descent, was a very +aristocratic person: as the presence of the grand piano in the +drawing-room would testify. She could no more live without +a grand piano than ordinary people could exist without food: the +grand piano, albeit a very dilapidated one, was a necessity of +her well-descended condition. It was no matter that it +displaced more useful furniture; in that it only imitated a good +many other persons, and it told you whenever you entered the +room: “You see <!-- page 24--><a name="page24"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 24</span>me here in a comparatively small way, +but understand, I have been in far different circumstances: I +have been courted by the great, and listened to by the +aristocracy of England. I follow Mrs. Prigg wherever she +goes: she is a lady; her connections are high, and she never yet +associated with any but the best families. You could not +diminish from her very high breeding: put her in the workhouse, +and with me to accompany her, it would be transformed into a +palace.”</p> +<p>Mr. Prigg was by no means a rich man as the world counts +richness. No one ever heard of his having a +“<i>practice</i>,” although it was believed he did a +great deal in the way of “lending his name” <i>and +profession</i> to impecunious and uneducated men; who could turn +many a six-and-eightpence under its prestige. So great is +the moral “power of attorney,” as contradistinguished +from the legal “power of attorney.”</p> +<p>But Prigg, as I have hinted, was not only respectable, he was +<i>good</i>: he was more than that even, he was +<i>notoriously</i> good: so much so, that he was called, in +contradistinction to all other lawyers, “<i>Honest Lawyer +Prigg</i>”; and he had further acquired, almost as a +universal title, the sobriquet of “Nice.” +Everybody said, “What a very nice man Mr. Prigg +is!” Then, in addition to all this, he was considered +<i>clever</i>—why, I do not know; but I have often observed +that men can obtain the reputation of being clever at very little +cost, and without the least foundation. The cheapest of all +ways is to abuse men who really are clever, and if your abuse be +pungently and not too coarsely worded, it will be accepted by the +ignorant as <i>criticism</i>. Nothing goes down with +shallow minds like criticism, and the severest criticism is +generally based on envy and jealousy.</p> +<p><!-- page 25--><a name="page25"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +25</span>Mr. Prigg, then, was clever, respectable, good, and +nice, remarkably potent qualities for success in this world.</p> +<p>So I saw in my dream that Mr. Bumpkin, whose feelings were +duly aroused, turned his eye upon Honest Lawyer Prigg, and +resolved to consult him upon the grievous outrage to which he had +been subjected at the hands of the cunning Snooks: and without +more ado he resolved to call on that very worthy and extremely +nice gentleman.</p> +<h2><!-- page 27--><a name="page27"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +27</span>CHAPTER IV.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">On the extreme simplicity of going to law.</p> +<p>With his right leg resting on his left, with his two thumbs +nicely adjusted, and with the four points of his right fingers in +delicate contact with the fingers of his left hand, sat Honest +Lawyer Prigg, listening to the tale of unutterable woe, as +recounted by Farmer Bumpkin.</p> +<p>Sometimes the good man’s eyes looked keenly at the +farmer, and sometimes they scanned vacantly the ceiling, where a +wandering fly seemed, like Mr. Bumpkin, in search of consolation +or redress. Sometimes Mr. Prigg nodded his respectable head +and shoulders in token of his comprehension of Mr. +Bumpkin’s lucid statement: then he nodded two or three +times in succession, implying that the Court was with Mr. +Bumpkin, and occasionally he would utter with a soft soothing +voice,</p> +<p>“Quite so!”</p> +<p>When he said “quite so,” he parted his fingers, +and reunited them with great precision; then he softly tapped +them together, closed his eyes, and seemed lost in profound +meditation.</p> +<p>Here Mr. Bumpkin paused and stared. Was Mr. Prigg +listening?</p> +<p>“Pray proceed,” said the lawyer, “I quite +follow you;—never mind about what anybody else had offered +you for the pig—the question really is whether you actually +sold this pig to Snooks or not—whether the bargain was +complete or inchoate.”</p> +<p><!-- page 28--><a name="page28"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +28</span>Mr. Bumpkin stared again. “I beant much of a +scollard, sir,” he observed; “but I’ll take my +oath I never sold un t’pig.”</p> +<p>“That is the question,” remarked the lawyer. +“You say you did not? Quite so; had this Joe of yours +any authority to receive money on your behalf?”</p> +<p>“Devil a bit,” answered Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“Excuse me,” said Mr. Prigg, “I have to put +these questions: it is necessary that I should understand where +we are: of course, if you did not sell the pig, he had no right +whatever to come and take it out of the sty—it was a +trespass?”</p> +<p>“That’s what I says,” said Bumpkin; and down +went his fist on Mr. Prigg’s table with such vehemence that +the solicitor started as though aroused by a shock of +dynamite.</p> +<p>“Let us be calm,” said the lawyer, taking some +paper from his desk, and carefully examining the nib of a quill +pen, “Let me see, I think you said your name was +Thomas?”</p> +<p>“That’s it, sir; and so was my father’s +afore me.”</p> +<p>“Thomas Bumpkin?”</p> +<p>“I beant ashamed on him.”</p> +<p>And then Mr. Prigg wrote out a document and read it aloud; and +Mr. Bumpkin agreeing with it, scratched his name at the +bottom—very badly scratched it was, but well enough for Mr. +Prigg. This was simply to retain Mr. Prigg as his solicitor +in the cause of <i>Bumpkin</i> v. <i>Snooks</i>.</p> +<p>“Quite so, quite so; now let me see; be calm, Mr. +Bumpkin, be calm; in all these matters we must never lose our +self-possession. You see, I am not excited.”</p> +<p><!-- page 29--><a name="page29"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +29</span>“Noa,” said Bumpkin; “but then ur dint +tak thy pig.”</p> +<p>“Quite true, I can appreciate the position, it was no +doubt a gross outrage. Now tell me—this Snooks, as I +understand, is the coal-merchant down the village?”</p> +<p>“That’s ur,” said Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“I suppose he’s a man of some property, +eh?”</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin looked for a few moments without speaking, and +then said:</p> +<p>“He wur allays a close-fisted un, and I should reckon +have a goodish bit o’ property.”</p> +<p>“Because you know,” remarked the solicitor, +“it is highly important, when one wins a case and obtains +damages, that the defendant should be in a position to pay +them.”</p> +<p>This was the first time that ever the flavour of damages had +got into Bumpkin’s mouth; and a very nice flavour it +was. To beat Snooks was one thing, a satisfaction; to make +him pay was another, a luxury.</p> +<p>“Yes, sir,” he repeated; “I bleeve he ave, I +bleeve he ave.”</p> +<p>“What makes you think so?”</p> +<p>“Wull, fust and foremust, I knows he lent a party a +matter of a hundred pound, for I witnessed un.”</p> +<p>“Then he hasn’t got that,” said the +lawyer.</p> +<p>“Yes ur ave, sir, or how so be as good; for it wur a +morgage like, and since then he’ve got the +house.”</p> +<p>Mr. Prigg made a note, and asked where the house was.</p> +<p>“It be widder Jackson’s.”</p> +<p>“Indeed; very well.”</p> +<p>“An then there be the bisness.”</p> +<p>“Exactly,” said the lawyer, “horses and +carts, weighing machines, and so on?”</p> +<p><!-- page 30--><a name="page30"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +30</span>“And the house he live in,” said Bumpkin, +“I know as ow that longs to him.”</p> +<p>“Very well; I think that will be enough to start +with.” Now, Mr. Prigg knew pretty well the position +of the respective parties himself; so it was not so much for his +own information that he made these inquiries as to infuse into +Bumpkin’s mind a notion of the importance of the case.</p> +<p>“Now,” said he, throwing down the pen, “this +is a very serious matter, Mr. Bumpkin.”</p> +<p>This was a comfort, and Bumpkin looked agreeably surprised and +vastly important.</p> +<p>“A very serious case,” and again the tips of the +fingers were brought in contact.</p> +<p>“I spoase we can’t bring un afore jusseses, +sir?”</p> +<p>“Well, you see the criminal law is dangerous; you +can’t get damages, and you may get an action for malicious +prosecution.”</p> +<p>“I think we ought to mak un pay for ’t.”</p> +<p>“That is precisely my own view, but I am totally at a +loss to understand the reason of such outrageous conduct on the +part of this Snooks. Now don’t be offended, Mr. +Bumpkin, if I put a question to you. You know, we lawyers +like to search to the bottom of things. I can understand, +if you had owed him any money—”</p> +<p>“Owe un money!” exclaimed Bumpkin contemptuously; +“why I could buy un out and out.”</p> +<p>“Ah, quite so, quite so; so I should have supposed from +what I know of you, Mr. Bumpkin.”</p> +<p>“Lookee ere, sir,” said the farmer; “I bin a +ard workin man all my life, paid my way, twenty shillins in the +pound, and doant owe a penny as fur as I knows.”</p> +<p><!-- page 31--><a name="page31"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +31</span>“And if you did, Mr. Bumpkin,” said the +lawyer with a good-natured laugh, “I dare say you could +pay.”</p> +<p>“Wull, I bleeve there’s no man can axe me for +nothing; and thank God, what I’ve got’s my own; and +there aint many as got pootier stock nor mine—all good bred +uns, Mr. Prigg.”</p> +<p>“Yes, I’ve often heard your cattle +praised.”</p> +<p>“He be a blagard if ur says I owed un money.”</p> +<p>“O, dear, Mr. Bumpkin, pray don’t misunderstand +me; he did not, that I am aware, allege that he took the pig +because you owed him money; and even if you did, he could not +legally have done so. Now this is not a mere matter of +debt; it’s a very serious case of trespass.”</p> +<p>“Ay; zo ’t be sir; that was my bleef, might jist +as wull a tooked baacon out o’ baacon loft.”</p> +<p>“Just the same. Quite so—quite +so!”</p> +<p>“And I want thee, Mr. Prigg, to mak un pay +for’t—mak un pay, sir; it beant so much th’ +pig.”</p> +<p>“Quite so: quite so: that were a very trifling affair, +and might be settled in the County Court; but, in fact, +it’s not the pig at all, it’s trespass, and you want +to make him answerable in damages.”</p> +<p>“That’s it, sir; you’ve got un.”</p> +<p>“I suppose an apology and a return of the pig would not +be enough.”</p> +<p>“I’ll make un know he beant everybody,” said +Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“Quite so; now what shall we lay the damages +at?”</p> +<p>“Wull, sir, as for that, I doant rightly know; if so be +he’d pay down, that’s one thing, but it’s my +bleef as you might jist as wull try to dror blood out of a stoane +as git thic feller to do what’s right.”</p> +<p><!-- page 32--><a name="page32"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +32</span>“Shall we say a hundred pounds and +costs?”</p> +<p>Never did man look more astonished than Bumpkin. A +hundred pounds! What a capital thing going to law must +be! But, as the reader knows, he was a remarkably discreet +man, and never in the course of his dealing committed himself +till the final moment. Whenever anybody made him a +“bid,” he invariably met the offer with one form of +refusal. “Nay, nay; it beant good enough: I bin +offered moore.” And this had answered so well, that +it came natural to Bumpkin to refuse on all occasions the first +offer. It was not to be wondered at then that the question +should be regarded in the light of an offer from Snooks +himself. Now he could hardly say “I bin <i>bid +moore</i> money,” because the case wasn’t in the +market; but he could and did say the next best thing to it, +namely:—</p> +<p>“I wunt let un goo for that—’t be wuth +moore!”</p> +<p>“Very well,” observed Prigg; “so long as we +know: we can lay our damages at what we please.”</p> +<p>Now there was great consolation in that. The plaintiff +paused and rubbed his chin. “What do thee think, +sir?”</p> +<p>“I think if he pays something handsome, and gives us an +apology, and pays the costs, I should advise you to take +it.”</p> +<p>“As you please, sir; I leaves it to you; I beant a hard +man, I hope.”</p> +<p>“Very good; we will see what can be done. I shall +bring this action in the Chancery Division.”</p> +<p>“Hem! I’ve eerd tell, sir, that if ever a case +gets into that ere Coourt he niver comes out agin.”</p> +<p>“O, that’s all nonsense; there used to be a good +deal of truth in that; but the procedure is now so altered <!-- +page 33--><a name="page33"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +33</span>that you can do pretty much what you like: this is an +age of despatch; you bring your action, and your writ is almost +like a cheque payable on demand!”</p> +<p>“Wull, I beant no lawyer, never had nothing to do wi un +in my life; but I should like to axe, sir, why thee’ll +bring this ere case in Chancery?”</p> +<p>“Good; well, come now, I like to be frank; we shall get +more costs?”</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin again rubbed his chin. “And do I get +em?” he asked.</p> +<p>“Well, they go towards expenses; the other side always +pays.”</p> +<p>This was a stroke of reasoning not to be gainsaid. But +Mr. Prigg had a further observation to make on the subject, and +it was this:</p> +<p>“After the case has gone on up to being ready for trial, +and the Judges find that it is a case more fitting to be tried in +the Common Law Courts, then an order is made transferring it, +that is, sending it out of Chancery to be tried by one of the +other Judges.”</p> +<p>“Can’t see un,” said Bumpkin, “I beant +much of a scollard, but I tak it thee knows best.”</p> +<p>Mr. Prigg smiled: a beneficent, sympathizing smile.</p> +<p>“I dare say,” he said, “it looks a little +mysterious, but we lawyers understand it; so, if you don’t +mind, I shall bring it in the Chancery Division in the first +instance; and nice and wild the other side will be. I fancy +I see the countenance of Snooks’ lawyer.”</p> +<p>This was a good argument, and perfectly satisfactory to the +unsophisticated mind of Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“And when,” he asked, “will ur come on, +think’ee?”</p> +<p>“O, in due time; everything is done very quickly +now—not like it used to be—you’d be surprised, +we <!-- page 34--><a name="page34"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +34</span>used to have to wait years—yes, years, sir, before +an action could be tried; and now, why bless my soul, you get +judgment before you know where you are.”</p> +<p>How true this turned out to be may hereafter appear; but in a +dream you never anticipate.</p> +<p>“I shall write at once,” said “Honest +Prigg,” “for compensation and an apology; I think I +would have an apology.”</p> +<p>“Make un pay—I doant so much keer for the +t’other thing; that beant much quonsequence.”</p> +<p>“Quite so—quite so.” And with this +observation Mr. Prigg escorted his client to the door.</p> +<h2><!-- page 35--><a name="page35"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +35</span>CHAPTER V.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">In which it appears that the sting of slander +is not always in the head.</p> +<p>Mr. Prigg lost no time in addressing a letter to the +ill-advised Josiah Snooks with the familiar and affectionate +commencement of “Dear Sir,’” asking for +compensation for the “gross outrage” he had committed +upon “his client;” and an apology to be printed in +such papers as he, the client, should select.</p> +<p>The “Dear Sir” replied, not in writing, for he was +too artful for that, but by returning, as became his vulgar +nature, Mr. Prigg’s letter in a very torn and disgusting +condition.</p> +<p>To a gentleman of cultivated mind and sensitive nature, this +was intolerable; and Mr. Prigg knew that even the golden bridge +of compromise was now destroyed. He no longer felt as a +mere lawyer, anxious in the interests of his client, which was a +sufficient number of horse-power for anything, but like an +outraged and insulted gentleman, which was more after the force +of hydraulic pressure than any calculable amount of +horse-power. It was clear to his upright and sensitive mind +that Snooks was a low creature. Consequently all +professional courtesies were at an end: the writ was issued and +duly served upon the uncompromising Snooks. Now a writ is +not a matter to grin at and to treat with <!-- page 36--><a +name="page36"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 36</span>contempt or +levity. Mr. Snooks could not return that document to Mr. +Prigg, so he had to consider. And first he consulted his +wife: this consultation led to a domestic brawl and then to his +kicking one of his horses in the stomach. Then he threw a +shovel at his dog, and next the thought occurred to him that he +had better go and see Mr. Locust. This gentleman was a +solicitor who practised at petty sessions. He did not +practise much, but that was, perhaps, his misfortune rather than +his fault. He was a small, fiery haired man, with a close +cut tuft of beard; small eyes, and a pimply nose, which showed an +ostentatious disdain for everything beneath it.</p> +<p>Mr. Locust was not at home, but would return about nine. +At nine, therefore, the impatient Snooks appeared.</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Mr. Locust, as he looked at the writ, +“I see this writ is issued by Mr. Prigg.”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> +<p>“Did he not write to you before issuing it?—dear +me, this is very sharp practice—very sharp practice: the +sharpest thing I ever heard of in all my life.”</p> +<p>“Wull, he did write, but I giv un as good as he +sent.”</p> +<p>“Dear me!” exclaimed Mr. Locust; “I am +afraid you have committed yourself.”</p> +<p>“No I beant, sir,” said the cunning Snooks, with a +grin, “no I beant.”</p> +<p>“You should never write without consulting a +solicitor—bear that in mind, Mr. Snooks; it will be an +invaluable lesson—hem!”</p> +<p>“I never writ, sir—I ony sent un his letter +back.”</p> +<p>“Ah!” said Locust, “come now, that is +better; but still you should have consulted me. I see this +claim is for three hundred and fifty pounds—it’s for +trespass. Now sit down quietly and calmly, and tell me the +facts.” <!-- page 37--><a name="page37"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 37</span>And then he took pen and paper and +placed himself in position to take his retainer and +instructions.</p> +<p>“Wull, sir, it is as this: a Sunday mornin—no, a +Sunday mornin week—I won’t tell no lie if I knows +it—a Sunday mornin week—”</p> +<p>“Sunday morning week,” writes Locust.</p> +<p>“I buyd a pig off this ere man for nine and six: well, +o’ the Monday mornin I goes with my barrer and a sack and I +fetches the pig and gies the money to his man Joe Wurzel; +leastways I puts it on the poast and he takes it up. Then +out comes Bumpkin and swears I never bought un at all, gets in a +rage and hits the bag wi’ a stick—”</p> +<p>“Now stop,” said the Lawyer; “are you quite +sure he did not strike <i>you</i>? That’s the +point.”</p> +<p>“Well, sir, he would a’ done if I adn’t a +bobbed.”</p> +<p>“Good: that’s an assault in law. You are +sure he would have struck you if you hadn’t ducked or +bobbed your head?”</p> +<p>“In course it would, else why should I bob?”</p> +<p>“Just so—just so. Now then, we’ve got +him there—we’ve got him nicely.”</p> +<p>Snooks’ eyes gleamed.</p> +<p>“Next I want to know: I suppose you didn’t owe him +anything?”</p> +<p>“No, nor no other man,” said Snooks, with an air +of triumph. “I worked hard for what I got, and no man +can’t ax me for a farden. I allays paid twenty +shillings in the pound.”</p> +<p>The reader will observe how virtuous both parties were on this +point.</p> +<p>“So!” said Locust. “Now you +haven’t told me all that took place.”</p> +<p><!-- page 38--><a name="page38"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +38</span>“That be about all, sir.”</p> +<p>“Yes, yes; but I suppose there was something said +between you—did you have any words—was he +angry—did he call you any names or say anything in an angry +way?”</p> +<p>“Well, not partickler—”</p> +<p>“Not particular: I will judge of that. Just tell +me what was said.”</p> +<p>“When, sir?”</p> +<p>“Well, begin on the Sunday morning. What was first +said?”</p> +<p>Then Snooks told the Solicitor all that took place, with +sundry additions which his imagination supplied when his memory +failed.</p> +<p>“And I member the price wull, becos he said ‘You +beant sellin coals, recollect, so you doant ave me.”</p> +<p>“Ho! ho!” exclaimed Locust rubbing his hands, +“You are sure he said that?” writing down the words +carefully.</p> +<p>“I be.”</p> +<p>“That will do, we’ve got him: we’ve got him +nicely. Was anybody present when he said this?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir. Joe were there, and t’ best +o’ my belief, Mrs. Bumpkin.”</p> +<p>“Never mind Mrs. Bumpkin. I don’t suppose +she was there, if you come to recollect; it’s quite enough +if Joe was present and could hear what was said. I suppose +he could hear it?”</p> +<p>“Stood cloase by.”</p> +<p>“Very well—that is slander—and slander of a +very gross kind. We’ve got him.”</p> +<p>“Be it?” said Snooks.</p> +<p>“I’ll show you,” said Locust; “in law +a man slanders you if he insinuates that you are dishonest; now +what <!-- page 39--><a name="page39"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +39</span>does this Bumpkin do? he says ‘you don’t +have me,’ meaning thereby that you don’t trick him +out of his pig; and, ‘you are not selling coals,’ +meaning that when you do sell coals you do trick people. Do +you see?—that you cheat them, in fact rob them.”</p> +<p>Snooks thought Mr. Locust the most wonderful man he had ever +come across. This was quite a new way of putting it.</p> +<p>“But ur didn’t say as much,” he said, +wondering whether that made any difference.</p> +<p>“Perfectly immaterial in law,” said Mr. Locust: +“it isn’t what a man says, it’s what he +<i>means</i>: you put that in by an innuendo—”</p> +<p>“A what, sir? begging pardon—”</p> +<p>“It’s what we lawyers call an innuendo: that is to +say, making out that a man says so and so when he +doesn’t.”</p> +<p>“I zee,” said the artful Snooks, quick at +apprehending every point. “Then if he called a chap a +devilish honest man and the innu—what d’ye call it, +meant he were a thief, you got him?”</p> +<p>“Well,” said Mr. Locust, smiling, “that is +going rather far, Mr. Snooks, but I see you understand what I +mean.”</p> +<p>“I thinks so, sir. I thinks I has your +meanin.”</p> +<p>“It’s a very gross slander,” observed Mr. +Locust, “and especially upon a tradesman in your +position. I suppose now you have lived in the neighbourhood +a considerable time?”</p> +<p>“All my life, sir.”</p> +<p>“Ah! just so, just so—now let me see; and, if I +remember rightly, you have a vote for the County.”</p> +<p>“I ave, sir, and allus votes blue, and that’s +moore.”</p> +<p><!-- page 40--><a name="page40"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +40</span>“Then you’re on our side. I’m +very glad indeed to hear that; a vote’s a vote, you know, +now-a-days.”</p> +<p>Any one would have thought, to hear Mr. Locust, that votes +were scarce commodities, whereas we know that they are among the +most plentiful articles of commerce as well as the cheapest.</p> +<p>“And you have, I think, a family, Mr. Snooks.”</p> +<p>“Four on em, sir.”</p> +<p>“Ah! how very nice, how laudable to make a little +provision for them: as I often say, if a man can only leave his +children a few hundreds apiece, it’s something.”</p> +<p>The solicitor watched his client’s face as he uttered +this profound truism, and the face being as open and genuine as +was Snooks’ character, it said plainly enough “Yes, I +have a few hundreds.”</p> +<p>“Well then,” continued Mr. Locust, “having +been in business all these years, and being, as times go, +tolerably successful, being a careful man, and having got +together by honest industry a nice little +independency—”</p> +<p>Here the learned gentleman paused, and here, unfortunately, +Snooks’ open and candid heart revealed itself through his +open and candid countenance.</p> +<p>“I <i>believe</i>,” said Mr. Locust, “I am +right?”</p> +<p>“You’re about right, sir.”</p> +<p>“Very charming, very gratifying to one’s +feelings,” continued Mr. Locust; “and then, just as +you are beginning to get comfortable and getting your family +placed in the world, here comes this what shall I call him, I +never like to use strong language, this intolerable blackguard, +and calls you a thief—a detestable thief.”</p> +<p>“Well, he didn’t use that air word, sir—I +wool say that,” said Mr. Snooks.</p> +<p>“In law he did, my good man—he meant it and said +<!-- page 41--><a name="page41"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +41</span>it—he insinuated that you cheated the +poor—you serve a good many of the poor, I think?”</p> +<p>“I do, sir.”</p> +<p>“Well, he insinuated that you cheated them by giving +short weight and bad coals—that is worse than being a +thief, to my mind—such a man deserves hanging.”</p> +<p>“Damn him,” said Snooks, “that’s it, +is it?”</p> +<p>“That’s it, my dear sir, smooth it over as you +will. I don’t want to make more of it than necessary, +but we must look at it fairly and study the consequences. +Now I want to ask you particularly, because we must claim special +damage for this, if possible—have you lost any customers +through this outrageous slander?”</p> +<p>“Can’t say I have, rightly, sir.”</p> +<p>“No, but you will—mark my words, as soon as people +hear of this they will cease to deal with you. They +can’t deal with you.”</p> +<p>“I hope not, sir.”</p> +<p>“So do I; but let me tell Mr. Bumpkin” (here the +learned man shook his forefinger as though it had been the often +quoted finger of scorn) “that for every customer you lose +we’ll make him answerable in damages. He’ll +repeat this slander: take my advice and get some one to look out, +and make a note of it—be on your guard!”</p> +<p>Snooks wiped the perspiration from his forehead and then threw +his large coloured handkerchief into his hat, which he held by +both hands between his knees,</p> +<p>“It be a bad case then, sir?”</p> +<p>“A very bad case for Bumpkin!” replied Mr. Locust; +“let me have a list of your customers as soon as you can, +and we shall see who leaves you in consequence of this +slander. Does my friend, Mr. Overrighteous, deal with +you? I think he does?”</p> +<p><!-- page 42--><a name="page42"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +42</span>“He do, sir, and have for five or six +years—and a good customer he be.”</p> +<p>“Ah! now, there’s a man! Whatever you do +don’t let Mr. Overrighteous know of it: he would leave you +directly: a more particular man than that can’t be. +Then again, there is my friend Flythekite, does he deal with +you? Of course he does!”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> +<p>“And you’ll lose him—sure to lose +him.”</p> +<p>Judging from Mr. Snooks’ countenance it would have been +small damage if he did.</p> +<p>“Ve-ry well,” continued Locust, after a pause, +“ve-ry well—just so.” Then he looked at +the copy of the writ and perceived that it was dated eighteen +hundred and ninety something instead of eighteen hundred and +seventy something. So he said that the writ was wrong and +they ought not to appear; “by which means,” said he, +“we shall let them in at the start for a lot of +costs—we shall let them in.”</p> +<p>“And will that stash the action?” asked +Snooks.</p> +<p>“It will not stash ours,” said Locust. +“I suppose you mean to go on whether he does or not? +Your claim is for assault and slander.”</p> +<p>“As you please, sir.”</p> +<p>“No, no, as you please. I have not been called a +thief—they haven’t said that I sell short weight and +cheat and defraud the poor: <i>my</i> business will not be +ruined—<i>my</i> character is not at stake.”</p> +<p>“Let un have it, sir; he be a bad un,” and here he +rose to depart. Mr. Locust gave him a professional shake of +the hand and wished him good day. But as the door was just +about to be closed on his client, he remembered <!-- page 43--><a +name="page43"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 43</span>something +which he desired to ask, so he called, “Mr. +Snooks!”</p> +<p>“Sir,” said the client.</p> +<p>“Is there any truth in the statement that this Bumpkin +beats his wife?”</p> +<p>“I doant rightly know,” said Snooks, in a +hesitating voice; “it may be true. I shouldn’t +wonder—he’s just the sort o’ man.”</p> +<p>“Just enquire about that, will you?”</p> +<p>“I wool, sir,” said Snooks; and thus his interview +with his Solicitor terminated.</p> +<p>Now the result of the enquiries as to the domestic happiness +of Bumpkin was this; first, the question floated about in a vague +sort of form, “<i>Does Bumpkin beat his wife</i>?” +then it grew into “<i>Have you heard that Bumpkin beats his +wife</i>?” and lastly, it was affirmed that Bumpkin +“<i>really did beat his wife</i>.” And the +scandal spread so rapidly that it soon reached the ears of +plaintiff himself, who would have treated it with the contempt it +deserved, knowing the quarter whence it came, but that it was so +gross a calumny that he determined to give the lying Snooks no +quarter, and to press his action with all the energy at his +command.</p> +<p>After this there could be no compromise.</p> +<p>“I wish,” said Snooks to himself, as he smoked his +pipe that evening, “I could a worked one o’ them +there innerenders in my trade—I could a made summut on +him.”</p> +<h2><!-- page 45--><a name="page45"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +45</span>CHAPTER VI.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Showing how the greatest wisdom of Parliament +may be thrown away on ungrateful people.</p> +<p>The first skirmish between the two doughty champions of the +hostile forces took place over the misdated writ. Judgment +was signed for want of appearance; and then came a summons to set +it aside. The Judge set it aside, and the Divisional Court +set aside the Judge, and the Court of Appeal set aside the +Divisional Court upon the terms of the defendant paying the +costs, and the writ being amended, &c. &c. And I +saw that when the Judge in Chambers had hesitatingly and +“not without grave doubt” set aside the judgment, Mr. +Prigg said to Mr. Locust, “What a very nice +point!” And Mr. Locust replied:</p> +<p>“A very nice point, indeed! Of course you’ll +appeal?” And Mr. Quibbler, Mr. Locust’s +pleader, said, “A very neat point!”</p> +<p>“Oh dear, yes,” answered Mr. Prigg.</p> +<p>And then Mr. Prigg’s clerk said to Mr. Locust’s +clerk—“What a very nice point!” And Mr. +Locust’s clerk rejoined that it was indeed a very nice +point! And then Mr. Locust’s boy in the office said +to Mr. Prigg’s boy in the office, “What a very nice +point!” And Mr. Prigg’s boy, a pale tall lad of +about five feet six, and of remarkably quiet demeanour, +replied—</p> +<p>“A dam nice point!”</p> +<p><!-- page 46--><a name="page46"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +46</span>Next came letters from the respective Solicitors, +suggesting a compromise in such terms that compromise became +impossible; each affirming that he was so averse from litigation +that almost any amicable arrangement that could be come to would +be most welcome. Each required a sum of two hundred pounds +and an apology in six morning papers. And I saw at the foot +of one of Mr. Prigg’s letters, when the hope of compromise +was nearly at an end, these touching words:</p> +<p>“Bumpkin’s blood’s up!”</p> +<p>And at the end of the answer thereto, this very expressive +retort:</p> +<p>“You say Bumpkin’s blood is up; so is +Snooks’—do your worst!”</p> +<p>As I desire to inform the lay reader as to the interesting +course an action may take under the present expeditious mode of +procedure, I must now state what I saw in my dream. The +course is sinuosity itself in appearance, but that only renders +it the more beautiful. The reader will be able to judge for +himself of the simple method by which we try actions nowadays, +and how very delightful the procedure is. The first +skirmish cost Snooks seventeen pounds six shillings and +eight-pence. It cost Bumpkin only three pounds seventeen +shillings, or <i>one heifer</i>. Now commenced that +wonderful process called “Pleading,” which has been +the delight and the pride of so many ages; developing gradually +century by century, until at last it has perfected itself into +the most beautiful system of evasion and duplicity that the world +has ever seen. It ranks as one of the fine Arts with Poetry +and Painting. A great Pleader is truly a great Artist, and +more imaginative than any other. The number of summonses at +Chambers is only <!-- page 47--><a name="page47"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 47</span>limited by his capacity to invent +them. Ask any respectable solicitor how many honest claims +are stifled by proceedings at Chambers. And if I may +digress in all sincerity for the purpose of usefulness, I may +state that while recording my dream for the Press, Solicitors +have begged of me to bring this matter forward, so that the +Public may know how their interests are played with, and their +rights stifled by the iniquitous system of proceedings at +Chambers.</p> +<p>The Victorian age will be surely known as the Age of Pleading, +Poetry, and Painting.</p> +<p>First, the Statement of Claim. Summons at Chambers to +plead and demur; summons to strike out; summons to let in; +summons to answer, summons not to answer; summonses for all sorts +of conceivable and inconceivable objects; summonses for no +objects at all except costs. And let me here say Mr. Prigg +and Mr. Locust are not alone blameable for this: Mr. Quibbler, +Mr. Locust’s Pleader, had more to do with this than the +Solicitor himself. And so had Mr. Wrangler, the Pleader of +Mr. Prigg. But without repeating what I saw, let the reader +take this as the line of proceeding throughout, repeated in at +least a dozen instances:—</p> +<p class="poetry">The Judge at Chambers reversed the Master;</p> +<p class="poetry">The Divisional Court reversed the Judge;</p> +<p class="poetry">And the Court of Appeal reversed the Divisional +Court.</p> +<p>And let this be the chorus:—</p> +<p class="poetry">“What a very nice point!” said +Prigg;</p> +<p class="poetry">“What a very nice point!” said +Locust;</p> +<p class="poetry">“What a very nice point!” said +Gride (Prigg’s clerk);</p> +<p class="poetry">“What a d--- nice point!” said +Horatio! (the pale boy).</p> +<p class="poetry"><!-- page 48--><a name="page48"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 48</span>Summons for +particulars.—Chorus.</p> +<p class="poetry">Further and better +particulars.—Chorus.</p> +<p class="poetry">Interrogatories—Summons to strike +out.—Chorus.</p> +<p class="poetry">Summons for further and better +answers.—Chorus.</p> +<p class="poetry">More summonses for more, further, better, and +all sorts of things.—Chorus.</p> +<p>All this repeated by the other side, of course; because each +has his proper innings. There is great fairness and +impartiality in the game. Something was always going up +from the foot of this Jacob’s ladder called “the +Master” to the higher regions called the Court of +Appeal. The simplest possible matter, which any old +laundress of the Temple ought to have been competent to decide by +giving both the parties a box on the ear, was taken before the +Master, from the Master to the Judge, from the Judge to the +Divisional Court, and from the Divisional Court to the Court of +Appeal, at the expense of the unfortunate litigants; while +Judges, who ought to have been engaged in disposing of the +business of the country, were occupied in deciding legal quibbles +and miserable technicalities. All this I saw in my +dream. Up and down this ladder Bumpkin and Snooks were +driven—one going up the front while the other was coming +down the back. And I heard Bumpkin ask if he wasn’t +entitled to the costs which the Court gave when he won. But +the answer of Mr. Prigg was, “No, my dear sir, the labourer +is worthy of his hire.” And I saw a great many more +ups and downs on the ladder which I should weary the reader by +repeating: they are all alike equally useless and equally +contemptible. Then I thought that poor Bumpkin went up the +ladder with a great bundle on his back; and his face seemed quite +<!-- page 49--><a name="page49"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +49</span>changed, so that I hardly knew him, and I said to +Horatio, the pale boy—</p> +<p>“Who is that going up now? It looks like Christian +in the Pilgrim’s Progress.”</p> +<p>“Oh, no,” said Horatio, “that’s old +Bumpkin—it’s a regler sweater for him, ain’t +it?”</p> +<p>I said, “Whatever can it be? will he ever reach the +top?”</p> +<p>Here Bumpkin seemed to slip, and it almost took my breath +away; whereat the pale boy laughed, stooping down as he laughed, +and thrusting his hands into his breeches pockets,</p> +<p>“By George!” he exclaimed, “what a jolly +lark!”</p> +<p>“I hope he won’t fall,” I exclaimed. +“What has he got on his back?”</p> +<p>“A <span class="smcap">demurrer</span>,” said +Horatio, laughing. “Look at him! That there +ladder’s the Judicatur Act: don’t it reach a +height? There’s as many rounds in that there ladder +as would take a man a lifetime to go up if it was all spread out; +it’s just like them fire escapes in reaching up, but nobody +ever escapes by it.”</p> +<p>“It will break the poor man’s back,” said I, +as he was a few feet from the top. And then in my dream I +thought he fell; and the fright was so great that I awoke, and +found I was sitting in my easy chair by the fire, and the pipe I +had been smoking had fallen out of my hand.</p> +<p style="text-align: center">* * * * *</p> +<p>“You’ve been dreaming,” said my wife; +“and I fear have had a nightmare.” When I was +thoroughly aroused, and had refilled my pipe, I told her all my +dream.</p> +<p><!-- page 50--><a name="page50"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +50</span>Then cried she, “I hope good Mr. Bumpkin will get +up safely with that great bundle.”</p> +<p>“It doesn’t matter,” said I, “whether +he do or not; he will have to bear its burden, whether he take it +up or bring it back. He will have to bring it down again +after showing it to the gentlemen at the top.”</p> +<p>“What do they want to see it for?” cried she.</p> +<p>“They have no wish to see it,” I replied; +“on the contrary, they would rather not. They will +simply say he is a very foolish man for his pains to clamber up +so high with so useless a burden.”</p> +<p>“But why don’t they check him?”</p> +<p>“Because they have no power; they look and wonder at the +folly of mankind, who can devise no better scheme of amusement +for getting rid of their money.”</p> +<p>“But the lawyers are wise people, and they should know +better.”</p> +<p>“The lawyers,” said I, “do know better; and +all respectable lawyers detest the complicated system which +brings them more abuse than fees. They see men, permitted +by the law, without character and conscience, bring disgrace on +an honourable body of practitioners.”</p> +<p>“But do they not remonstrate?”</p> +<p>“They do, but with little effect; no one knows who is +responsible for the mischief or how to cure it.”</p> +<p>“That is strange.”</p> +<p>“Yes, but the time will come when the people will insist +on a cheaper and more expeditious system. Half-a-dozen +solicitors and members of the junior bar could devise such a +system in a week.”</p> +<p>“Then why are they not permitted to take it in +hand?”</p> +<p><!-- page 51--><a name="page51"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +51</span>“Because,” said I, “Old Fogeyism has, +at present, only got the gout in one leg; wait till he has it in +both, and then Common Sense will rise to the occasion.”</p> +<p>“But what,” quoth she, “is this fine art you +spoke of?”</p> +<p>“Pleading!”</p> +<p>“Yes; in what consists its great art?”</p> +<p>“In artfulness,” quoth I.</p> +<p>Then there was a pause, and at length I said, “I will +endeavour to give you an illustration of the process of pleading +from ancient history: you have heard, I doubt not, of Joseph and +his Brethren.”</p> +<p>“O, to be sure,” cried she; “did they not +put him in the pit?”</p> +<p>“Well, I believe they put him in the pit, but I am not +referring to that. The corn in Egypt is what I +mean.”</p> +<p>“When they found all their money in their sacks’ +mouths?”</p> +<p>“Exactly. Now if Joseph had prosecuted those men +for stealing the money, they would simply have pleaded not +guilty, and the case would have been tried without any bother, +and the defendants have been acquitted or convicted according to +the wisdom of the judge, the skill of the counsel, and the common +sense of the jury. But now suppose instead thereof, Joseph +had brought an action for the price of the corn.”</p> +<p>“Would it not have been as simple?”</p> +<p>“You shall see. The facts would have been stated +with some accuracy and a good deal of inaccuracy, and a good many +things which were not facts would have been introduced. +Then the defendants in their statement of defence would have +denied that there was any such place <!-- page 52--><a +name="page52"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 52</span>as Egypt as +alleged; <a name="citation52"></a><a href="#footnote52" +class="citation">[52]</a> denied that Pharaoh was King thereof; +denied that he had any corn to sell; denied that the said Joseph +had any authority to sell; denied that they or any of them went +into Egypt; denied that they ever saw the said Joseph or had any +communication with him whatever, either by means of an +interpreter or otherwise; denied, in fact, everything except +their own existence; but in the alternative they would go on to +say, if it should be proved that there was a place called Egypt, +a man called Pharaoh, an agent of his called Joseph, and that the +defendants actually did go to Egypt, all of which they one and +all absolutely deny (as becomes men of honour), then they say, +that being large corn-merchants and well known to the said +Joseph, the factor of the said Pharaoh, as purchasers only of +corn for domestic purposes, and requiring therefore a good sound +merchantable article, the said Joseph, by falsely and +fraudulently representing that certain corn of which he, the said +Joseph, was possessed, was at that time of a good sound and +merchantable quality and fit for seed and domestic purposes, by +the said false and fraudulent representations he, the said +Joseph, induced the defendants to purchase a large quantity +thereof, to wit, five thousand sacks; whereas the said corn was +not of a good sound and merchantable quality and fit for seed and +domestic purposes, but was maggoty from damp, and infected with +smut and altogether worthless, as he, the said Joseph, well knew +at the time he made the said false representations. The +defendants would also further allege <!-- page 53--><a +name="page53"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 53</span>that, relying +on the said Joseph’s word, they took away the said corn, +but having occasion at the inn to look into the said sacks, they +found that the said wheat was worthless, and immediately +communicated with the said Joseph by sending their younger +brother Simeon down to demand a return of the price of the said +corn. But when the said Simeon came to the said Joseph the +said Joseph caught him, and kicked him, and beat him with a great +stick, and had him to prison, and would not restore him to his +brethren, the defendants. Whereupon the defendants sent +other messengers, and at length, after being detained a long time +at the said inn, the said Joseph came down, and on being shown +the said corn, admitted that it was in bad condition. +Whereupon the defendants, fearing to trust the said Joseph with +the said sacks until they had got a return of their said money, +demanded that he, the said Joseph, should put the full tale of +every man’s money in the sack of the said man; which thing +the said Joseph agreed to, and placed every man’s money in +the mouth of his said sack. And when the said man was about +to reach forth his hand to take his said money, the said Joseph +seized the said hand and held him fast—.”</p> +<p>“Stop, stop!” cried my wife; “the said +Joseph had not ten hands. You must surely draw the line +somewhere.”</p> +<p>“No, no,” said I, “that is good pleading; if +the other side should omit to deny it, it will be taken by the +rules of pleading to be admitted.”</p> +<p>“But surely you can’t admit +impossibilities!”</p> +<p>“Can’t you, though!” cried I. +“You can do almost anything in pleading.”</p> +<p>“Except, it seems to me, tell the truth.”</p> +<p><!-- page 54--><a name="page54"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +54</span>“You mustn’t be too hard upon us poor +juniors,” cried I. “I haven’t come to the +Counterclaim yet.”</p> +<p>“O don’t let us have Counterclaims,” quoth +she; “they can have no claim against Joseph?”</p> +<p>“What, not for selling them smutty wheat?”</p> +<p>“Nonsense.”</p> +<p>“I say yes; and he’ll have to call a number of +witnesses to prove the contrary—nor do I think he will be +able to do it.”</p> +<p>“I fail now,” said my wife, “to see how this +pleading is a fine art. Really, without joking, what is the +art?”</p> +<p>“The art of pleading,” said I, “consists in +denying what is, and inducing your adversary to admit what +isn’t.”</p> +<h2><!-- page 55--><a name="page55"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +55</span>CHAPTER VII.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Showing that appropriateness of time and place +should be studied in our pastimes.</p> +<p>The next night, sitting over the cheerful fire and comfortably +resting after the labours of the day, I dreamed again, and I saw +that Horatio Snigger was “the Office Boy” of Mr. +Prigg. He had been in the employment of that gentleman +about two years. He was tall for his money, standing, in +his shoes, at least five feet six, and receiving for his +services, five shillings and sixpence a week, (that is, a +shilling for every foot and a penny for every odd inch), his last +rise (I mean in money,) having taken place about a month ago.</p> +<p>Horatio was a lad of as much spirit as any boy I ever +saw. I do not believe he had any liking for the profession, +but had entered it simply as his first step in life, utterly in +the dark as to whither it would lead him. It was, I +believe, some disappointment to his father that on no occasion +when he interrogated him as to his “getting on,” +could he elicit any more cheering reply than “very +well.” And yet Horatio, during the time he had been +with Mr. Prigg, had had opportunities of studying character in +its ever-varying phases as presented by Courts of Justice and +kindred places.</p> +<p>“Kindred places!” Yes, I mean +“Judges’ Chambers,” where any boy may speedily +be impressed with the <!-- page 56--><a name="page56"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 56</span>dignity and simplicity of the +practice of the Law, especially since the passing of the +Judicature Act. To my lay readers who may wish to know what +“Judges’ Chambers” means, I may observe that it +is a place where innumerable proceedings may be taken for +lengthening a case, embarrassing the clients, and spending +money. It is, to put it in another form, a sort of Grands +Mulets in the Mont Blanc of litigation, whence, if by the time +you get there you are not thoroughly “pumped out,” +you may go on farther and in due time reach the top, whence, I am +told, there is a most magnificent view.</p> +<p>But even the beauty of the proceedings at Judges’ +Chambers failed to impress Horatio with the dignity of the +profession. He lounged among the crowds of chattering boys +and youths who “cheeked” one another before that +august personage “the Master,” declaring that +“Master” couldn’t do this and +“Master” couldn’t do that; that the other side +was too late or too soon; that his particulars were too meagre or +too full; or his answers to interrogatories too evasive or not +sufficiently diffuse, and went on generally as if the whole +object of the law were to raise as many difficulties as possible +in the way of its application. As if, in fact, it had +fenced itself in with such an undergrowth of brambles that no +amount of ability and perseverance could arrive at it.</p> +<p>From what I perceived of the character of Horatio, I should +say that he was a scoffer. He was a mild, good-tempered, +well-behaved boy enough, but ridiculed many proceedings which he +ought to have reverenced. He was a great favourite with Mr. +Prigg, because, if anything in the world attracted the +boy’s admiration, it was <!-- page 57--><a +name="page57"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 57</span>that +gentleman’s pious demeanour and profound knowledge. +But the exuberance of the lad’s spirits when away from his +employer was in exact proportion to the moral pressure brought to +bear upon him while in that gentleman’s presence. As +an illustration of this remark and proof of the twofold character +of Horatio, I will relate what I saw after the +“Master” had determined that the tail of the 9 was a +very nice point, but that there was nothing in it. They had +all waited a long time at Judge’s Chambers, and their +spirits were, no doubt, somewhat elated by at last getting the +matter disposed of.</p> +<p>Horatio heard Mr. Prigg say to Mr. Locust, “What a very +nice point!” and had heard Mr. Locust reply, “A very +nice point, indeed!” And Mr. Gride, the clerk, say, +“What, a very nice point!” and somebody else’s +clerk say, “What a very nice point!” And +Horatio felt, as a humble member of the profession, he must chime +in with the rest of the firm. So, having said to +Locust’s boy, “What a dam nice point!” he went +back to his lonely den in Bedford Row and then, as he termed it, +“let himself out.” He accomplished this +proceeding by first taking off his coat and throwing it on to a +chair; he next threw but his arms, with his fists firmly +clenched, as though he had hardly yet to its fullest extent +realized the “<i>niceness</i>” of the point which the +Master had determined. The next step which Horatio took was +what is called “The double shuffle,” which, I may +inform my readers, is the step usually practised by the gentleman +who imitates the sailor in the hornpipe on the stage. Being +a slim and agile youth, Horatio’s performance was by no +means contemptible, except that it was no part of his +professional duty to dance a Hornpipe. <!-- page 58--><a +name="page58"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 58</span>Then I saw +that this young gentleman in the exuberance of his youthful +spirits prepared for another exhibition of his talent. He +cleared his throat, once more threw out his arms, stamped his +right foot loudly on the floor, after the manner of the Ethiopian +dancer with the long shoe, and then to my astonishment poured +forth the following words in a very agreeable, and, as it seemed +to me, melodious voice,—</p> +<blockquote><p>“What a very nice point, said +Prigg.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Then came what I suppose would be called a few bars of the +hornpipe; then he gave another line,—</p> +<blockquote><p>“What a very nice point, said +Gride.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>(Another part of the hornpipe.) Then he sang the third +and fourth lines, dancing vigorously the while:</p> +<blockquote><p>“It will take a dozen lawyers with their +everlasting jaw:<br /> +It will take a dozen judges with their ever changing +law”—</p> +</blockquote> +<p>(Vigorous dancing for some moments), and then a pause, during +which Horatio, slightly stooping, placed two fingers of his left +hand to the side of his nose, and turning his eyes to the right, +sang—</p> +<blockquote><p>“And”—</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Paused again, and finished vehemently as follows:</p> +<blockquote><p>“Twenty golden guineas to decide!”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Then came the most enthusiastic hornpipe that ever was seen, +and Horatio was in the seventh Heaven of delight, when the door +suddenly opened, and Mr. Prigg entered!</p> +<p><!-- page 59--><a name="page59"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +59</span>It was unfortunate for Horatio that his back being +towards the door he could not see his master enter; and it need +scarcely be said that the noise produced by the dance prevented +him from hearing his approach.</p> +<p>Mr. Prigg looked astounded at the sight that presented +itself. The whole verse was repeated, and the whole dance +gone through again in the sight and hearing of that +gentleman. Was the boy mad? Had the strain of +business been too much for him?</p> +<p>As if by instinct Horatio at last became aware of his +master’s presence. A change more rapid, +transformation more complete I never saw. The lad hung his +head, and wandered to the chair where his coat was lying. +It took him some time to put it on, for the sleeves seemed +somehow to be twisted; at length, once more arrayed, and +apparently in his right mind, he stood with three-quarter face +towards his astonished master.</p> +<p>Mr. Prigg did not turn his head even on this occasion. +He preserved a dignified silence for some time, and then spoke in +a deep tragic tone:</p> +<p>“Horatio!”</p> +<p>Horatio did hot answer.</p> +<p>“What is the meaning of this exhibition, +Horatio?”</p> +<p>“I was only having a little fun, sir,” said the +youthful clerk.</p> +<p>“I am not averse to youth enjoying itself,” said +Mr. Prigg; “but it must be at proper seasons, and in +appropriate places; there is also to be exercised a certain +discretion in the choice of those amusements in which youth +should indulge. I am not aware what category of recreation +your present exhibition may belong to, but I may inform you that +in my humble judgment—I may be mistaken, and you may know +far better than I—but <!-- page 60--><a +name="page60"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 60</span>as at present +advised, I do not see that your late performance is consistent +with the duties of a solicitor’s clerk.” And +then he muttered to himself, “Quite so.”</p> +<p>After this magnificent rebuke, Mr. Prigg drew out his cambric +handkerchief, and most gently applied it to his stately nose.</p> +<p>“Again,” said Mr. Prigg, “I heard language, +or thought I heard language, which I should construe as decidedly +derogatory to the Profession which you serve and to which I have +the honour to belong.”</p> +<p>“I was only in fun, sir,” said Horatio, gathering +confidence as Mr. Prigg proceeded.</p> +<p>“Quite so, quite so; that may be, I sincerely hope you +were; but never make fun of that by which you live; you derive +what I may call a very competent, not to say handsome, salary +from the proceedings which you make fun of. This is sad, +and manifests a spirit of levity.”</p> +<p>“I didn’t mean it like that, sir.”</p> +<p>“Very well,” said the good man, “I am glad +to perceive that you are brought to a proper sense of the +impropriety of your conduct. I will not discharge you on +this occasion, for the sake of your father, whom I have known for +so many years: but never let this occur again. Dancing is +at all times, to my mind, a very questionable amusement; but when +it is accompanied, as I perceived it was on this occasion, with +gestures which I cannot characterize by any other term than +disgusting; and when further you take the liberty of using my +name in what I presume you intended for a comic song, I must +confess that I can hardly repress my feelings of +indignation. I hope you are penitent.”</p> +<p>Horatio hung down his head, and said he was very <!-- page +61--><a name="page61"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 61</span>sorry +Mr. Prigg had heard it, for he only intended it for his own +amusement.</p> +<p>“I shall take care,” said Mr. Prigg, “that +you have less opportunity for such exercises as I have +unfortunately witnessed.” And having thus admonished +the repentant youth, Mr. Prigg left him to his reflections. +I am glad Mr. Prigg did not return while the pale boy was +reflecting.</p> +<h2><!-- page 63--><a name="page63"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +63</span>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">The pleasure of a country drive on a summer +evening described as enhanced by a pious mind.</p> +<p>It is only fair to the very able solicitors on both sides in +the memorable case of <i>Bumpkin</i> v. <i>Snooks</i> to state +that the greatest possible despatch was exercised on all +occasions. Scarcely a day passed without something being +done, as Prigg expressed it, “to expedite +matters.” Month after month may have passed away +without any apparent advance; but this in reality was not the +case. Many appeals on what seemed trifling matters had been +heard; so many indeed that <i>Bumpkin</i> v. <i>Snooks</i> had +become a household word with the Court of Appeal, and a bye-word +among the innumerable loafers about Judge’s Chambers.</p> +<p>“What! <i>Bumpkin</i> v. <i>Snooks</i> +again!” the President would say. “What is it +now? It’s a pity the parties to this case can’t +agree: it seems a very trifling matter.”</p> +<p>“Not so, my lord, as your lordship will quickly +apprehend when the new point is brought before your notice. +A question of principle is here which may form a precedent for +the guidance of future Judges, as did the famous case of +<i>Perryman</i> v. <i>Lister</i>, which went to the House of +Lords about prosecuting a man for stealing a <!-- page 64--><a +name="page64"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 64</span>gun. +This is about a pig, my lord—a little pig, no doubt, and +although there is not much in the pig, there is a good deal +outside it.”</p> +<p>And often did Prigg say to Locust:</p> +<p>“I say, Locust, whenever <i>shall</i> we be ready to set +this case down for trial?”</p> +<p>“Really, my dear Prigg,” Locust would reply, +“it seems interminable—come and dine with +me.” So the gentle and innocent reader will at once +perceive that there was great impatience on all sides to get this +case ready for trial. Meanwhile it may not be uninteresting +to describe shortly some of the many changes that had taken place +in the few short months since the action commenced.</p> +<p>First it was clearly observable by the inhabitants of Yokelton +that Mr. Prigg’s position had considerably improved. +I say nothing of his new hat; that was a small matter, but not so +his style of living—so great an advance had that made that +it attracted the attention of the neighbours, who often remarked +that Mr. Prigg seemed to be getting a large practice. He +was often seen with his lady on a summer afternoon taking the air +in a nice open carriage—hired, it is true, for the +occasion. And everybody remarked how uncommonly ladylike +Mrs. Prigg lay back in the vehicle, and how very gracefully she +held her new æsthetic parasol. And what a proud +moment it was for Bumpkin, when he saw this good and respectable +gentleman pass with the ladylike creature beside him; and Mr. +Bumpkin would say to his neighbours, lifting his hat at the same +moment,</p> +<p>“That be my loryer, that air be!”</p> +<p>And then Mr. Prigg would gracefully raise his hat, and Mrs. +Prigg would lie back perfectly motionless as <!-- page 65--><a +name="page65"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 65</span>became a very +languid lady of her exalted position. And when Mr. Prigg +said to Mrs. Prigg, “My dear, that is our new +client;” Mrs. Prigg would elevate her arched eyebrows and +expand her delicate nostrils as she answered,—</p> +<p>“Really, my love, what a very vulgar-looking +creechar!”</p> +<p>“Not nearly so vulgar as Locust’s client,” +rejoined her husband. “You should see him.”</p> +<p>“Thank you, my love, it is quite enough to catch a +glimpse of the superior person of the two.”</p> +<p>Mr. Prigg seemed to think it a qualifying circumstance that +Snooks was a more vulgar-looking man than Bumpkin, whereas a +moment’s consideration showed Mrs. Prigg how illogical that +was. It is the intrinsic and personal value that one has to +measure things by. This value could not be heightened by +contrast. Mrs. Prigg’s curiosity, however, naturally +led her to inquire who the other creechar was? As if she +had never heard of <i>Bumpkin</i> v. <i>Snooks</i>, although she +had actually got the case on four wheels and was riding in it at +that very moment; as if in fact she was not practically all +Bumpkin, as a silkworm may be said to be all mulberry +leaves. As if she knew nothing of her husband’s +business! Her ideas were not of this world. Give her +a church to build, she’d harass people for subscriptions; +or let it be a meeting to clothe the naked savage, Mrs. Prigg +would be there. She knew nothing of clothing Bumpkin! +But she did interest herself sufficiently in her husband’s +conversation to ask, in answer to his reference to Locust’s +disreputable client,</p> +<p>“And who is he, pray?”</p> +<p><!-- page 66--><a name="page66"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +66</span>“My darling,” said Prigg, “you must +have heard of Snooks?”</p> +<p>“Oh,” drawled Mrs. Prigg, “do you mean the +creechar who sells coals?”</p> +<p>“The same, my dear.”</p> +<p>“And are you engaged against <i>that</i> man? How +very dreadful!”</p> +<p>“My darling,” observed Mr. Prigg, “it is not +for us to choose our opponents; nor indeed, for the matter of +that, our clients.”</p> +<p>“I can quite perceive that,” returned the lady, +“or you would never have chosen such men—dear +me!”</p> +<p>“We are like physicians,” returned Mr. Prigg, +“called in in case of need.”</p> +<p>“And the healing virtues of your profession must not be +confined to rich patients,” said Mrs. Prigg, in her jocular +manner.</p> +<p>“By no means,” was the good man’s reply; +“justice is as much the right of the poor as the +rich—so is the air we breathe—so is +everything.” And he put his fingers together again, +as was his wont whenever he uttered a philosophical or moral +platitude.</p> +<p>So I saw in my dream that the good man and his ladylike wife +rode through the beautiful lanes, and over the breezy common on +that lovely summer afternoon, and as they drew up on the summit +of a hill which gave a view of the distant landscape, there was a +serenity in the scene which could only be compared to the +serenity of Mr. Prigg’s benevolent countenance; and there +was a calm, deeply, sweetly impressive, which could only be +appreciated by a mind at peace with itself in particular, and +with the world in general. Then came from a neighbouring +wood the clear voice of the cuckoo. It <!-- page 67--><a +name="page67"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 67</span>seemed to +sing purposely in honour of the good man; and I fancied I could +see a ravenous hawk upon a tree, abashed at Mr. Prigg’s +presence and superior ability; and a fluttering timid lark seemed +to shriek, “Wicked bird, live and let live;” but it +was the last word the silly lark uttered, for the hawk was upon +him in a moment, and the little innocent songster was crushed in +its ravenous beak. Still the cuckoo sang on in praise of +Mr. Prigg, with now and then a little note for Mrs. Prigg; for +the cuckoo is a very gallant little bird, and Mrs. Prigg was such +a heavenly creature that no cuckoo could be conscious of her +presence without hymning her praise.</p> +<p>“Listen,” said Mrs. Prigg, “isn’t it +beautiful? I wonder where cuckoos go to?”</p> +<p>“Ah, my dear!” said Prigg, enraptured with the +clear notes and the beautiful scene; but neither of them seemed +to wonder where hawks go to.</p> +<p>“Do you hear the echo, love? Isn’t it +beautiful?”</p> +<p>O, yes, it was beautiful! Nature does indeed lift the +soul on a quiet evening from the grovelling occupations of earth +to bask in the genial sunshine of a more spiritual +existence. What was Bumpkin? What was Snooks to a +scene like this? Suddenly the cuckoo ceased. +Wonderful bird! I don’t know whether it was the +presence of the hawk that hushed its voice or the sight of Mr. +Prigg as he stood up in the carriage to take a more extended view +of the prospect; but the familiar note was hushed, and the +evening hymn in praise of the Priggs was over.</p> +<p>So the journey was continued by the beautiful wood of oaks and +chestnuts, along by the hillside from which you could perceive in +the far distance the little stream <!-- page 68--><a +name="page68"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 68</span>as it wound +along by meadow and wood and then lost itself beneath the hill +that rose abruptly on the left.</p> +<p>The stream was the symbol of life—probably +Bumpkin’s life; all nature presents similes to a religious +mind. And so the evening journey was continued with ever +awakening feelings of delight and gratitude until they once more +entered their peaceful home. And this brings me to another +consideration which ought not to be passed over with +indifference.</p> +<p>I saw in my dream that a great change had taken place in the +home of the Priggs. The furniture had undergone a +metamorphosis almost so striking that I thought Mr. Prigg must be +a wizard. The gentle reader knows all about Cinderella; but +here was a transformation more surprising. I saw that one +of Mr. Bumpkin’s pigs had been turned into a very pretty +walnut-wood whatnot, and stood in the drawing-room, and on it +stood several of the ducks and geese that used to swim in the +pond of Southwood farm. They were not ducks and geese now, +but pretty silent ornaments. An old rough-looking stack of +oats had been turned into a very nice Turkey carpet for the +dining-room. Poor old Jack the donkey had been changed into +a musical box that stood on a little table made out of a +calf. One day Mr. Bumpkin called to see how his case was +going on, and by mistake got into this room among his cows and +pigs; but not one of them did the farmer know, and when the maid +invited him to sit down he was afraid of spoiling something.</p> +<p>Now summonses at Chambers, and appeals, and demurrers, are not +at all bad conjuring wands, if you only know how to use +them. Two clever men like Prigg and Locust, not only +surprise the profession, but alarm the <!-- page 69--><a +name="page69"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 69</span>public, since +no one knows what will take place next, and Justice herself is +startled from her propriety. Let no clamorous law reformer +say that interrogatories or any other multitudinous proceedings +at Judge’s Chambers are useless. It is astonishing +how many changes you can ring upon them with a little ingenuity, +and a very little scrupulosity. Mr. Prigg turned two sides +of bacon into an Indian vase, and performed many other feats +truly astonishing to persons who look on as mere spectators, and +wonder how it is done. Wave your magic wand, good Prigg, +and you shall see a hayrick turn into a chestnut mare; and a +four-wheeled waggon into a Victoria.</p> +<p>But the greatest change he had effected was in Mr. Bumpkin +himself, who loved to hear his wife read the interrogatories and +answers. The almanac was nothing to this. He had no +idea law was so interesting. I dare say there were two +guiding influences working within him, in addition to the many +influences working without; one being that inherent British +pluck, which once aroused, “doesn’t care, sir, if it +costs me a thousand pound, I’ll have it out wi’ +un;” the other was the delicious thought that all his +present outlay would be repaid by the cunning and covetous +Snooks. So much was Bumpkin’s heart in the work of +crushing his opponent, that expense was treated with +ridicule. I heard him one day say jocularly to Mr. Prigg, +who had come for an affidavit:</p> +<p>“Be it a pig, sir, or a heifer?”</p> +<p>“O,” said the worthy Prigg, “we want a +pretty good one; I think it must be a heifer.”</p> +<p>All this was very pleasant, and made the business, dull and +prosaic in itself, a cheerful recreation.</p> +<p>Then, again, there was a feeling of self-importance <!-- page +70--><a name="page70"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +70</span>whenever these affidavits came to be sworn. Mr. +Bumpkin would put down his ash-stick by the side of the +fireplace, and bidding his visitor be seated, would compose +himself with satisfaction to listen to the oft-repeated +words:</p> +<p>“I, Thomas Bumpkin, make oath, and say—”</p> +<p>Fancy, “<i>I</i>, <i>Bumpkin</i>!” Just let +the reader pause over that for a moment! What must +“I, Bumpkin,” be whose statement is required on oath +before my Lord Judge?</p> +<p>Always, at these words, he would shout. “That be +it—now then, sir, would you please begin that +agin?”—while, if Mrs. Bumpkin were not too busy, he +would call her in to hear them too.</p> +<p>So there was no wonder that the action went merrily +along. Once get up enthusiasm in a cause, and it is half +won. Without enthusiasm, few causes can succeed against +opposition. Then, again, the affidavit described Bumpkin as +a Yeoman. What, I wonder, would Snooks the coal-merchant +think of that?</p> +<p>So everything proceeded satisfactorily, and the months rolled +away; the seasons came in their turn, so did the crops, so did +the farrows of pigs, so did the spring chickens, and young ducks +(prettiest little golden things in the world, on the water); so +did Mr. Prigg, and so did a gentleman (hereafter to be called +“the man,”) with whom a very convenient arrangement +was made, by which Mr. Bumpkin preserved the whole of his +remaining stock intact; had not in fact to advance a single penny +piece more; all advances necessary for the prosecution of the +action being made by the strange gentleman (whose name I did not +catch) under that most convenient of all legal forms, “a +Bill of Sale.”</p> +<h2><!-- page 71--><a name="page71"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +71</span>CHAPTER IX.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">A farmhouse winter fireside—a morning +drive and a mutual interchange of ideas between town and country: +showing how we may all learn something from one another.</p> +<p>I never saw the home of Farmer Bumpkin without thinking what a +happy and comfortable home it was. The old elm tree that +waved over the thatched roof, seemed to bless and protect +it. On a winter’s evening, when Bumpkin was sitting +in one corner smoking his long pipe, Mrs. Bumpkin darning her +stockings, and Joe on the other side looking into the blazing +fire, while the old Collie stretched himself in a snug corner +beside his master, it represented a scene of comfort almost as +perfect as rustic human nature was capable of enjoying. And +when the wind blew through the branches of the elm over the roof, +it was like music, played on purpose to heighten the +enjoyment. Comfort, thou art at the evening fireside of a +farm-house, if anywhere!</p> +<p>You should have seen Tim, when an unusual sound disturbed the +harmony of this peaceful fireside. He growled first as he +lay with his head resting between his paws, and just turned up +his eyes to his master for approval. Then, if that warning +was not sufficient, he rose and barked vociferously. +Possessed, I believe, of <!-- page 72--><a +name="page72"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 72</span>more insight +than Bumpkin, he got into the most tremendous state of excitement +whensoever anyone came from Prigg’s, and he cordially hated +Prigg. But most of all was he angry when “the +man” came. There was no keeping him quiet. I +wonder if dogs know more about Bills of Sale than farmers. +I am aware that some farmers know a good deal about them; and +when they read this story, many of them will accuse me of being +too personal; but Tim was a dog of strong prejudices, and I am +sure he had a prejudice against money-lenders.</p> +<p>As the persons I have mentioned were thus sitting on this +dreary evening in the month of November, suddenly, Tim sprang +from his recumbent position, and barked furiously.</p> +<p>“Down, Tim! down, Tim!” said the farmer; +“what be this, I wonder!”</p> +<p>“Tim, Tim,” said Mrs. Bumpkin, “down, Tim! +hold thee noise, I tell ee.”</p> +<p>“Good Tim!” said Joe; he also had an instinct.</p> +<p>“I’ll goo and see what it be,” said Mrs. +Bumpkin; “whoever can come here at this time o’ +night! it be summat, Tom.” And she put down her +stockings, and lighting a candle went to the front door, whereat +there was a loud knocking. Tim jumped and flew and thrust +his nose down to the bottom of the door long before Mrs. Bumpkin +could get there.</p> +<p>“Quiet, Tim! I tell thee; who be there?”</p> +<p>“From Mr. Prigg’s,” answered a voice.</p> +<p>This was enough for Tim; the name of Prigg made him +furious.</p> +<p>“Somebody from Mr. Prigg, Tom.”</p> +<p>“Wull, let un in, Nance; bless thee soul, let un in; may +be the case be settled. I hope they ain’t took less +<!-- page 73--><a name="page73"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +73</span>nor a hundred pound. I told un not +to.” The door was unbolted and unbarred, and a long +time it took, and then stood before Mrs. Bumpkin a tall pale +youth.</p> +<p>“I’ve come from Mr. Prigg.”</p> +<p>“Will er plase to walk in, sir?” said Mrs. +Bumpkin.</p> +<p>By this time the master had got up from his seat, and +advancing towards the youth said:—</p> +<p>“How do, sir; how do, sir; wark in, wark in, tak a seat, +I be glad to see thee.”</p> +<p>“I come from Mr. Prigg,” said the youth, +“and we want another affidavit.”</p> +<p>“Hem!” said Bumpkin, “be it a pig or a +eifer, sir?” He couldn’t forget the old +joke.</p> +<p>“We want an affidavit of documents,” said the +youth.</p> +<p>“And what be the manin o’ that?—affiday +o’ what?”</p> +<p>“Documents, sir,” said the mild youth; “here +it is.”</p> +<p>“Oh,” said Bumpkin, “I got to swear un, I +spoase, that’s all.”</p> +<p>“That’s it, sir,” said Horatio.</p> +<p>“Well, thee can’t take oaths, I spoase.”</p> +<p>“No, sir, not exactly.”</p> +<p>“Wull then I spoase I must goo to --- in the +marnin. And thee’ll stop here the night and mak +thyself comfortable. We can gie un a bed, can’t us, +Nancy?”</p> +<p>“Two, if ur wishes it,” answered Mrs. Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“Devil’s in it, ur doan’t want two beds, +I’ll warrant? Now then, sir, sitten doon and mak +theeself comfortable. What’ll thee drink?”</p> +<p>“I’m too young to drink,” said Horatio, with +a smile.</p> +<p>Bumpkin smiled too. “I’ll warrant thee +be.”</p> +<p>“I’m always too young,” said Horatio, +“for every thing that’s nice. Mr. Prigg says +I’m too young to <!-- page 74--><a name="page74"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 74</span>enjoy myself; but if you don’t +mind, sir, I’m not too young to be hungry. I’ve +walked a long distance.”</p> +<p>“Have ur now?” said Mrs. Bumpkin. “We +ain’t got anything wery grand, sir; but there be a nice +piece o’ pickle pork and pease-puddin, if thee doan’t +mind thic.”</p> +<p>“Bring un out,” said Bumpkin; and accordingly a +nice clean cloth was soon spread, and the table was groaning (as +the saying is), with a large leg of pork and pease-pudding and +home-made bread; to which Horatio did ample justice.</p> +<p>“Bain’t bad pooark,” said Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“Best I ever tasted,” replied Horatio; “we +don’t get this sort of pork in London—pork there +doesn’t seem like pork.”</p> +<p>“Now look at that,” said Joe; “I fed that +air pig.”</p> +<p>“So ur did, Joe,” said the farmer; +“I’ll gie thee credit, Joe, thee fed un +well.”</p> +<p>“Ah!” said Joe; “and that air pig knowed I +as well as I knows thee.”</p> +<p>When Horatio had supped, and the things were removed, Mr. +Bumpkin assured the youth that a little drop of gin-and-water +would not hurt him after his journey; and accordingly mixed him a +tumbler. “Thee doan’t smoke, I spoase?” +he said; to which Mrs. Bumpkin added that she “spoased he +wur too young like.”</p> +<p>“I’ll try,” answered the courageous youth, +nothing daunted by his youngness.</p> +<p>“So thee shall—dang if thee shan’t,” +rejoined Mr. Bumpkin; and produced a long churchwarden pipe, and +a big leaden jar of tobacco of a very dark character, called +“shag.”</p> +<p>Horatio filled his pipe, and puffed away as if he had been a +veteran smoker; cloud after cloud came forth, <!-- page 75--><a +name="page75"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 75</span>and when Mr. +and Mrs. Bumpkin and Joe looked, expecting that the boy should be +ill, there was not the least sign; so Joe observed with great +sagacity:</p> +<p>“Look at that now, maister; I bleeve he’ve smoked +afoore.”</p> +<p>“Have ur, sir?” asked Mr. Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“A little,” said Horatio.</p> +<p>“Why, I never smoked afoore I wur turned twenty,” +said the farmer.</p> +<p>“I believe the right time now is fourteen,” +observed the youth; “it used to be twenty, I have heard +father say; but everything has been altered by the Judicature +Act.”</p> +<p>“Look at that air,” said Joe, “he’ve +eeard father say. You knows a thing or two, I’ll +warrant, Mr. —.”</p> +<p>Here Joe was baffled, and coming so abruptly to an end of his +address, Mr. Bumpkin took the matter up, and asked, if he might +make so bold, what the youth’s name might be.</p> +<p>“Horatio Snigger,” answered that gentleman.</p> +<p>“When will this ere case be on, think’ee, +sir?” inquired Mr. Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“We expect it to be in the paper every day now,” +said the youth; “they’ve tried to dodge us a good +deal, but they can’t dodge us much longer—we’re +a little too downy for em.”</p> +<p>“It have been a mighty long time about, surely,” +said Mr. Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“O, that’s nothing,” said Horatio; +“time’s nothing in Law! Why, a suit to +administer a Will sometimes takes ’ears; and Bankruptcy, O +my eye, ain’t there dodging about that, and jockeying too, +eh! Crikey!”</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin here winked at his wife, as much as to <!-- page +76--><a name="page76"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 76</span>say, +“Now you hold your tongue, and see me dror un out. +I’ll have un.”</p> +<p>“Will ee tak a little more gin-and-water, +sir?”</p> +<p>“No, thankee,” said the youth.</p> +<p>“A little more won’t hurt ee—it’ll do +thee good.” And again he filled the tumbler; while +the pale boy refilled his pipe.</p> +<p>“Now, who’s my counsellor gwine to be?” +asked the farmer.</p> +<p>“Oh,” said Horatio, “a regular +cruncher—Mr. Catapult.”</p> +<p>“He be a cruncher, be he?”</p> +<p>“I believe you; he turned a man inside out the other +day; a money-lender he was.”</p> +<p>“Did ur now?”</p> +<p>“Look at that,” said Joe.</p> +<p>“And we’re going to have Mr. Dynamite for junior; +my eye, don’t he make a row!”</p> +<p>“Two an em!” exclaimed Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“Must have two for the plaintiff,” said Horatio; +“that’s the law. Why, a Queen’s Counsel +ain’t allowed to open a case without a junior starts +him—it’s jist like the engine-driver and the +guard. You have the junior to shove the leader.”</p> +<p>“Look at that,” said Joe; expectorating into the +fire.</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin looked again at Nancy, and gave another wink that +you might have heard.</p> +<p>“And the tother side?” he asked.</p> +<p>“Ah! I don’t know about them,” said +the boy. “They’re artful dodgers, they +are.”</p> +<p>“Is ’em now? but artfulness don’t allays +win, do ur?”</p> +<p><!-- page 77--><a name="page77"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +77</span>“No,” said Horatio; “but it goes a +long way, and sometimes when it’s gone a long way it beats +itself.”</p> +<p>“Look at that,” said Joe; “that’s like +that ere—”</p> +<p>“Be quiet, Joe,” said Bumpkin; “let I talk, +will ur? You said it beats itself, sir?”</p> +<p>“If the judge gets ’old of him, it’s sure +to,” said Horatio. “There ain’t no judge +on the Bench as will let artfulness win if he knows it. +I’ve sin em watchin like a cat watches a mouse; and +directly it comes out o’ the ’ole, down he is on +em—like that:” and he slapped his hand on the table +with startling effect.</p> +<p>“Good!” said Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“And don’t they know who the solicitor is, +eh—that’s all! My word, if he’s a shady +one—the judge is down on the case like winkin.”</p> +<p>“And be this ere Locust a shady un?” +(Another wink at Mrs. Bumpkin.)</p> +<p>“Ah! I’m too young to know.”</p> +<p>“Thee beest too old, thee meanest,” said Mrs. +Bumpkin, laughing.</p> +<p>“Now hold thee tongue, Nancy; I wur gwine to say that +myself—dang if I warnt!”</p> +<p>“Now look at thic,” said Joe; “maister were +gwine to say thic.”</p> +<p>“So I wur,” repeated Bumpkin. “Jist +got the word o’ th’ tip o’ th’ +tongue.”</p> +<p>“And be these Queen’s Counsellors,” he +asked, “summat grand?”</p> +<p>“I believe you,” said Horatio; “they wears +silk gowns.”</p> +<p>“Do em?” said Mrs. Bumpkin, laughing. +“Silk gowns—and what kind o’ +petticoats?”</p> +<p>“Shut up,” said Bumpkin; “thee be as igorant +as a <!-- page 78--><a name="page78"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +78</span>donkey; these Queen’s Counsellors be made for +their larnin and cleverness, beant em, sir?”</p> +<p>“Well,” said Horatio, “nobody ever could +make out—some of em are pretty good, and some of em +ain’t much—not near so good as the others.”</p> +<p>“But this ere Mr. Catapult be a good un, bean’t +he—a regler crunsher?”</p> +<p>“O, I believe you, my boy: his look’s enough for +some of em.”</p> +<p>“I spoase he be dear?” (Another wink at Mrs. +Bumpkin.)</p> +<p>“They’re all dear,” said Horatio; +“some of em are dear because their fees are high; and some +of em would be dear at a gift, but I’m too young to know +much about it.”</p> +<p>“Now hark at that,” said Joe; “like that air +old horse o’ Morris’.”</p> +<p>“Hold thee tongue, Joe, I tell ee, putten thy spoke in; +does thee think the Queen ’as old ’orses in her +stable? It’s merit, I tell ee—ain’t it, +Mr. Jigger?”</p> +<p>“Merit, sir; I believe it’s merit.” +And thus in pleasant conversation the evening passed merrily +away, until the clock striking nine warned the company that it +was time to retire.</p> +<p>A bright, brisk frosty morning succeeded, and a substantial +breakfast of bacon, eggs, fresh butter, and home-made bread, at +seven o’clock, somewhat astonished and delighted the +youthful Horatio; and then the old horse, with plenty of hair +about his heels, was brought round with the gig. And Mr. +Bumpkin and his guest got up and took their seats. The old +Market Town was about seven miles off, and the road lay through +the most picturesque scenery of the county. To ride on such +<!-- page 79--><a name="page79"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +79</span>a pleasant morning through such a country almost made +one think that swearing affidavits was the most pleasing +occupation of life. It was the first time Horatio had ever +ridden in a gig: the horse went a good old market pace, and the +beautiful sunshine, lovely scenery, and crisp air produced in his +youthful bosom a peculiarly charming and delightful sense of +exhilaration. He praised the country and the weather and +the horse, and asked if it was what they called a +thoroughbred.</p> +<p>“Chit!” said Bumpkin, “thoroughbred! +So be I thoroughbred—did thee ever see thoroughbred +wi’ ’air on his ’eels?’</p> +<p>“Well, he goes well,” said Horatio.</p> +<p>“Gooes well enough for I,” said Bumpkin.</p> +<p>This answer somewhat abashed Horatio, who was unlearned in +horses; for some time he remained silent. Then it became +Mr. Bumpkin’s turn to renew the conversation:</p> +<p>“I spoase,” said he, “thee be gwine to be a +loryer?”</p> +<p>“Not if I know it,” answered Horatio.</p> +<p>“Why not, then?”</p> +<p>“Don’t care for it; I like the country.”</p> +<p>“What wouldst thee like to be then, a farmer?”</p> +<p>“I should—that’s the life for me!”</p> +<p>“Thee likes plenty o’ fresh air?” said the +farmer.</p> +<p>“Yes,” answered Horatio, “and fresh butter +and fresh eggs.”</p> +<p>“I’ll go to ---, if thee doen’t know +what’s good for thee, anyhow. Thee’d ha’ +to work ’ard to keep straaight, I can tell thee; +thee’d had to plough, and danged if I believe thee could +hold plough! What’s thee say to that, lad?”</p> +<p>“I think I could.”</p> +<p><!-- page 80--><a name="page80"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +80</span>“Devil a bit! now spoase thee’st got +plough-handles under thy arms, and the cord in the ’ands, +and thee wanted to keep t’colter from jibbin into t’ +soil, wouldst thee press down wi’ might and main, or +how?”</p> +<p>“Press down with might and main,” said +Horatio.</p> +<p>“Right!” exclaimed Bumpkin; “danged if I +doant think thee’d make a ploughman now. Dost know +what th’ manin o’ mither woiy be?”</p> +<p>This was rather a startling question for the unsophisticated +London youth. He had never heard such an expression in his +life; and although he might have puzzled his agricultural +interrogator by a good many questions in return, yet that +possibility was no answer to “mither woiy.”</p> +<p>“I don’t know that, Mr. Bumpkin,” he +ingenuously replied.</p> +<p>“No? well, there ain’t a commoner word down ere +nor ‘mither woiy,’ and there ain’t a boy arf +your age as doan’t know the manin o’t, so thee see +thee got summat to larn. Now it mane this—spoase thee +got a team o’ horses at dung cart or gravel cart, and thee +wants em to come to ee; thee jest holds whip up over to the ed +o’ th’ leadin orse like this ere, and says +‘mither woiy,’ and round er comes as natteral as +possible.”</p> +<p>“O, that’s it!” said Horatio; “I +see.”</p> +<p>“Ah!” said Bumpkin, “I can teach ee summat, +can’t I, though thee comes from town, and I be only a +country clown farmer?”</p> +<p>“I should just like to come down a month on trial, +that’s all, when I have my holiday,” said the youth; +“I think it would do me good: ‘mither +woiy,’” he said, mimicking his instructor.</p> +<p>“Thee shall come if thee likes,” replied the +good-natured <!-- page 81--><a name="page81"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 81</span>Bumpkin; “Nancy’ll be +proud to see thee—thee’s got ‘mither +woiy’ to rights.”</p> +<p>“What a very nice public-house!” exclaimed +Horatio, as they approached a village green where an old Inn that +had flourished in the coaching days still stood, the decaying +monument of a past age, and an almost forgotten style of +locomotion.</p> +<p>“Be a good house. I often pulls up there on way +from market.”</p> +<p>“Did you ever try rum and milk for your cough?” +inquired the pale youth.</p> +<p>“Never had no cough,” said Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“What a good thing! But it’s capital, they +say, in case you should have one; they say there’s nothing +beats rum and milk.”</p> +<p>“Hem!” muttered Bumpkin, giving his horse a +tremendous jerk with the reins. “I spoase +thee’d like a glass, Mr. Jigger.”</p> +<p>“I don’t care about it for myself,” answered +the youth; “but if you like to have one I’ll join you +with pleasure.”</p> +<p>“So us wool then;” and up they pulled at the sign +of the “Merry-go-round” on Addlehead Green.</p> +<p>“Bain’t bad tackle!” said Mr. Bumpkin, +tossing off his glass.</p> +<p>“No,” responded Horatio, “I’ve tasted +worse medicine. I quite enjoy my ride, Mr. Bumpkin; I wish +we had a dozen more affidavits to swear.”</p> +<p>“I doan’t,” said the client; “I sworn +a goodish many on em as it be. I doan’t think that +air Snooks can bate un.”</p> +<p>“I don’t think he can,” said Horatio, as +they once more climbed into the old-fashioned gig; “but +talk <!-- page 82--><a name="page82"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +82</span>about paper, you should see your brief: that’s a +caution and no mistake!”</p> +<p>“Is ur now? In what way, sir?”</p> +<p>“Lor, how I should like a cigar, Mr. Bumpkin, if +I’d only got my case with me, but +unfortunately—”</p> +<p>“Would ur—then thee shall ’ave one; here, +Mr. Ostler, jest goo and fetch one o’ them there what +d’ye call ems.”</p> +<p>“O, do they sell them down here? +Cigars—cigars,” said Horatio, “I wasn’t +aware of that.”</p> +<p>“Now then, sir; what about this ere what d’ye call +un—beef?”</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin, being a very artful man, was inwardly chuckling +at the successful manœuvring by which he was drawing out +this pale unsophisticated London youth, and hoped by dint of a +little strategy to learn a good deal before they parted +company.</p> +<p>“Brief! brief!” said Horatio, laughing.</p> +<p>“Ah! so it wur; thee said he wur a hell of a big +un.”</p> +<p>“Yes, and I wrote him myself.”</p> +<p>“Did ur now; then thee knows all about un?”</p> +<p>“From beginning to end—he is a clipper, I can tell +you; a regular whacker.”</p> +<p>“I hope he’ll whack thic Snooks then.”</p> +<p>“He’s a beauty!” rejoined Horatio, much to +his companion’s surprise; for here was this young man +speaking of a brief in the same terms that he (Bumpkin) would use +with reference to a prize wurzel or swede. A brief being a +<i>beauty</i> sounded somewhat strange in the ears of a farmer +who could associate the term with nothing that didn’t grow +on the farm.</p> +<p>“I dare say you’ve heard of Macaulay’s +England?” asked the lad.</p> +<p><!-- page 83--><a name="page83"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +83</span>“Whose England?”</p> +<p>“Macaulay’s.”</p> +<p>“I’ve eerd o’ England, if you mean this ere +country, sartainly.”</p> +<p>“You’ve heard of Macaulay’s History, I +mean?”</p> +<p>“Can’t say as ever I eerd tell on un.”</p> +<p>“Well, there’s as much in your brief as there is +in that book, and that’s saying something, ain’t +it?”</p> +<p>“Zo’t be; but what th’ devil be ’t all +about?”</p> +<p>“Well, I’ll tell you,” said Horatio, holding +out his hands and putting the point of his right forefinger on to +the point of the forefinger of his left hand. “First: +biography of the plaintiff.”</p> +<p>“There now,” said Bumpkin, shaking the reins; +“thee med jist as well talk Greek—it’s the same +wally (value) to me, for I doan’t understan’ a +word—bography, indade!”</p> +<p>“Well then, Mr. Bumpkin, there is first a history of +your life.”</p> +<p>“Good lord, what be that for?”</p> +<p>“I’ll tell you presently—then there’s +the history of Mrs. Bumpkin from the cradle.” (Mr. +Bumpkin uttered an exclamation which nothing shall induce me to +put on paper.) “Then”—and here the young +man had reached the third finger of the left +hand—“then comes a history of the defendant +Snooks.”</p> +<p>“Ah!” said Bumpkin, as though they were getting +nearer the mark; “that be summut like—that’ll +do un—have you put in about the gal?”</p> +<p>“What’s that?” asked the youth.</p> +<p>“Oh! didn’t thee ’ear? Why, thee +’st left out the best part o’ Snooks’ life; he +were keepin company wi’ a gal and left her in t’ +lurch: but I ’ope thee ’st shown <!-- page 84--><a +name="page84"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 84</span>up ur carater +well in other ways—he be the worst man as ever lived in +this ’ere country.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said Horatio, travelling towards his +little finger; “then there’s the history of the +pig.”</p> +<p>“Zounds!” laughed the farmer, “if ever I +eerd tell o’ such a thing in my bornd days. What the +devil be the good o’ thic?”</p> +<p>“O, a good deal; the longer you make the brief the more +money you get—you are paid by the yard. They +don’t pay lawyers accordin’ to the value of their +services, but the length of ’em.”</p> +<p>“Well, look ee ’ere, if I sells a pig it +ain’t wallied by its length, but by its weight.”</p> +<p>“It ain’t so with lawyers then,” rejoined +Horatio; “the taxing master takes the length of the pig, +and his tail counts, and the longer the tail the better the +taxing master likes it; then comes,”—(as the young +lad had only four fingers he was obliged to have recourse to his +thumb, placing his forefinger thereon)—“then comes +about ten pages on the immortality of the soul.”</p> +<p>“That be the tail, I spoase.”</p> +<p>“You got it,” said Horatio, laughing. +“O, he’s a stunner on the immortality of the +soul.”</p> +<p>“Who be?—Snooks?”</p> +<p>“No—Prigg—he goes into it like +winkin’.”</p> +<p>“But what be it to do with thic case?”</p> +<p>“Well, if you only put in a brief what had got to do +with the case it would be a poor thing.”</p> +<p>And I saw in my dream that the young man was speaking +truthfully: it was a beautifully drawn essay on the immortality +of the soul, especially Bumpkin’s.</p> +<p>“By George!” continued the youth, +“it’ll cost something—that brief.”</p> +<p><!-- page 85--><a name="page85"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +85</span>Mr. Bumpkin twitched as if he had touched with ice a +nerve of his hollow tooth.</p> +<p>“If I had the money that case’ll cost I +wouldn’t do any more work,” said the youth.</p> +<p>“What would’st thee be then?”</p> +<p>“Well, I should try and get an Associate’s place +in one of the Courts.”</p> +<p>“Hem! but this ere Snooks ull have to pay, won’t +he?”</p> +<p>“Ah!” said Horatio, breathing deeply and +indignantly, “I hope so; he’s a mean cuss—what +d’ye think? never give Locust’s boy so much as a +half-sovereign! Now don’t such a feller deserve to +lose? And do you think Locust’s boy will interest +himself in his behalf?”</p> +<p>Bumpkin looked slily out of the corners of his eyes at the +young man, but the young man was impassive as stone, and pale as +if made of the best Carrara marble.</p> +<p>“But tell I, sir—for here we be at the plaace of +Mr. Commissioner to take oaths—what need be there o’ +this ere thing I be gwine to swear, for I’ll be danged if I +understand a word of un, so I tell ee.”</p> +<p>“Costs, my dear sir, costs!”</p> +<p style="text-align: center">* * * * *</p> +<p>And I heard Bumpkin mutter to himself that “he’d +he danged if this ’ere feller wur so young as he made +out—his ’ead wur a mighty dale older nor his +body.”</p> +<h2><!-- page 87--><a name="page87"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +87</span>CHAPTER X.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">The last night before the first London +expedition, which gives occasion to recall pleasant +reminiscences.</p> +<p>“I, Bumpkin, make oath and say,” having been duly +presented, and the Commissioner having duly placed the Testament +in Mr. Bumpkin’s hands, and said to him that to the best of +his knowledge and belief the contents of the “I +Bumpkin” paper were true, the matter was over, and Mr. +Snigger, with the valuable document in his possession, might have +returned to London by the next train. But as Horatio +afterwards observed to a friend, he “was not quite so +green.” It was market day; Mr. Bumpkin was a genial +companion, and had asked him to partake of the Market +Ordinary. So thither at one o’clock they repaired, +and a very fine dinner the pale youth disposed of. It +seemed in proportion to the wonderful brief whose merits they had +previously discussed. More and more did Horatio think that +a farmer’s life was the life for him. He had never +seen such “feeding;” more and more would he like that +month on trial in the country; more and more inclined was he to +throw up the whole blessed law at once and for ever. This +partly-formed resolution he communicated to Mr. Bumpkin, and +assured him that, but for the case of <i>Bumpkin</i> v. +<i>Snooks</i>, he would do so on that very afternoon, and wash +his hands of it.</p> +<p><!-- page 88--><a name="page88"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +88</span>“I don’t want,” said he, “to +leave you in the lurch, Mr. Bumpkin, or else I’d cut it at +once, and throw this affidavit into the fire.”</p> +<p>“Come, come,” said the farmer, “thee beest a +young man, don’t do nowt that be wrong—stick to thy +employer like a man, and when thee leaves, leave like a +man.”</p> +<p>“As soon as your case is over, I shall hook it, Mr. +Bumpkin. And now let me see—you’ll have to come +to London in a week or two, for I am pretty nigh sure we shall be +in the paper by that time. I shall see you when you come +up—where shall you stay?”</p> +<p>“Danged if I know; I be a straanger in +Lunnun.”</p> +<p>“Well, now, look ’ere, Mr. Bumpkin, I can tell you +of a very nice quiet public-house in Westminster where +you’ll be at home; the woman, I believe, comes from your +part of the country, and so does the landlord.”</p> +<p>“What be the naame o’ the public +’ouse?” asked Mr. Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“It’s the sign of the ‘Goose,’ and +stands just a little way off from the water-side.”</p> +<p>“The Goose” sounded countryfied and homelike, and +being near the water would be pleasant, and the landlord and +landlady being Somersetshire people would also be pleasant.</p> +<p>“Be it a dear plaace?” he inquired.</p> +<p>“Oh, no; dirt cheap.”</p> +<p>“Ah, that air <i>dirt</i> cheap I doan’t +like—I likes it a bit clean like.”</p> +<p>“Oh, yes, clean as a smelt—clean as ever it can +be; and I’ll bespeak your lodgings for you if you like, and +all.”</p> +<p>“Well, thankee, sir, thankee,” said the farmer, +shaking hands with the youth, and giving him a +half-sovereign. <!-- page 89--><a name="page89"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 89</span>“I be proud to know +thee.” And thus they parted: Horatio returning to his +office, and Mr. Bumpkin driving home at what is called a +“shig-shog” pace, reflecting upon all the events that +had transpired during that memorable day.</p> +<p>Pretty much the same as ever went on the things at the farm, +and the weeks passed by, and the autumn was over, and Christmas +Day came and went, and the Assizes came and went, and +<i>Bumpkin</i> v. <i>Snooks</i> alone in all the world seemed to +stand still. One day in the autumn a friend of Mr. +Prigg’s came and asked the favour of a day’s fishing, +which was granted with Mr. Bumpkin’s usual +cordiality. He was not only to fish on that day, but to +come whenever he liked, and make the house his “hoame, +like.” So he came and fished, and partook of the +hospitality of the homely but plentiful table, and enjoyed +himself as often as he pleased. He was a most agreeable +man, and knew how to talk. Understood a good deal about +agriculture and sheep breeding, and quite enjoyed a walk with Mr. +Bumpkin round the farm. This happened five or six times +during the autumn. He was reticent when Mr. Bumpkin +mentioned the lawsuit, because he knew so little about legal +proceedings. Nor could Mr. Bumpkin “draw him +out” on any point. Nothing could be ascertained +concerning him except that he had a place in Yorkshire, and was +in London on a visit; that he had known Mr. Prigg for a good many +years, and always “found him the same.” At +last, the month of February came, and the long expected letter +from Mr. Prigg. Bumpkin and Joe were to be in London on the +following day, for it was expected they would be in the +paper. What a flutter of preparation there was at the +farm! Bumpkin was eager, Mrs. Bumpkin anxious. <!-- +page 90--><a name="page90"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +90</span>She had never liked the lawsuit, but had never once +murmured; now she seemed to have a presentiment which she was too +wise to express. And she went about her preparations for +her husband’s leaving with all the courage she could +command. It was, however, impossible entirely to repress +her feelings, and now and again as she was packing the flannels +and worsted stockings, a tear would force its way in spite of all +she could do.</p> +<p>Night came, and the fireside was as cosy as ever. But +there was a sense of sadness nevertheless. Tim seemed to +understand that something was not quite as it should be, for he +was restless, and looked up plaintively in his master’s +face, and went to Joe and put his head in his lap; then turned +away and stretched himself out on the hearth, winking his eyes at +the fire.</p> +<p>It is always a melancholy effort to “keep up the +spirits” when the moment of separation is at hand. +One longs for the last shake of the hand and the final +good-bye. This was the case at Southwood Farm on this +memorable evening. Nothing in the room looked as +usual. The pewter plates on the shelf shone indeed, but it +was like the smile of a winter sun; it lacked the usual cheery +warmth. Even the old clock seemed to feel sad as he ticked +out with melancholy monotony the parting moments; and the wind, +as it came in heavy gusts and howled round the old chimney, +seemed more melancholy than need be under the circumstances.</p> +<p>“Thee must be careful, Tom,” said Mrs. Bumpkin; +“that Lunnun, as I hear, be a terrible plaace.”</p> +<p>“How be un a terrible plaace?” said Bumpkin, +sarcastically. “I bean’t a child, +Nancy.”</p> +<p>“No, thee bean’t a child, Tom; but thee +bean’t up to <!-- page 91--><a name="page91"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 91</span>Lunnun ways: there be thieves and +murderers, and what not.”</p> +<p>“Thieves and murderers!”</p> +<p>“And Joe, doan’t ee git out o’ nights; if +anything ’appened to thee, thy old mother ’ud brak +her ’art.”</p> +<p>“Look ee ’ere,” said Joe, “I +bean’t got nuthin’ to lose, so I bean’t afeared +o’ thieves.”</p> +<p>“No, but thee might git into trouble, thee might be led +away.”</p> +<p>“So might thic bull,” said Joe; “but +I’d like to zee what ’ud become o’ the chap as +led un.”</p> +<p>“Chap as led un!” said Mrs. Bumpkin, laughing.</p> +<p>“I’d gie un a crack o’ the canister,” +said Joe.</p> +<p>“Don’t thee git knockin’ down, Joe, unless +thee be ’bliged,” said Mrs. Bumpkin; “keep out +o’ bad company, and don’t stay out o’ +nights.”</p> +<p>“And lookee ’ere, Joe,” said Bumpkin, +“when thee comes afore th’ Counsellor wi’ wig +on, hold up thee head; look un straight in t’ face and spak +oop. Thee needn’t be afeared t’ spak t’ +truth.”</p> +<p>“I bean’t afeard,” said Joe; “I mind +me when old Morris wur at plough, and I was leadin’ +th’ ’orses, Morris says, says he, ‘Now then, +cock, let’s see if we can’t git a eend this +time;’ so on we goes, and jist afore I gits the +’orses to eend o’ t’ field, Dobbin turns, and +then, dash my bootons, the tother turns after un, and me +tryin’ to keep em oop, Dobbin gits his legs over the +trace. Well, Morris wur that wild, he says, says he, +‘Damme, if yer doan’t look sharp, I’ll gie thee +a crack o’ t’ canister wi’ this ’ere +whippense presny’” (presently).</p> +<p>“Crack o’ the canister!” laughed Mrs. +Bumpkin, “and that’s what Morris called thy head, +eh?”</p> +<p>This was a capital hit on Joe’s part, for it set them +<!-- page 92--><a name="page92"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +92</span>thinking of the events of old times, and Joe, seeing the +effect of it, ventured upon another anecdote relating to the old +carter.</p> +<p>“Thee recollect, master, when that there Mr. Gearns come +down to shoot; lor, lor, what a queer un he wur, +surely!”</p> +<p>“Couldn’t shoot a hit,” said Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“Not he. Wall, we was carrying wheat, and Morris +wur loadin, and jest as we gits the last pitch on t’ load, +right through th’ ’orses legs runds a rat. +Gearns wi’out more ado oops wi’ his loaded gun and +bangs her off right under t’ ’orses legs; up jumps +th’ ’orse, and Morris wur wery nigh tossed head fust +into th’ yard. Wall, he makes no moore ado, for he +didn’t keer, gemman or no gemman—didn’t +Morris—”</p> +<p>“No more ur didn’t, Joe,” said Mrs. +Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“He makes no moore ado, but he up and said, +‘damme,’ he says, ‘sir, you might as well a +said you was gwine to shoot; you might a had me off and broked my +neck.’”</p> +<p>“Haw! haw! haw!” laughed Mr. Bumpkin, and +“Well done, Morris,” said Mrs. Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“Wall,” said Joe, “this ere gemman says, +‘It wouldn’t er bin much loss,’ he says, +‘if he had!’ ‘Damme,’ roars Morris, +‘it had a bin as much wally to me as yourn, +anyhow.’”</p> +<p>They all remembered the story, and even Tim seemed to remember +it too, for when they laughed he wagged his tail and laughed with +them.</p> +<p>And thus the evening dragged along and bed time came.</p> +<p>In the morning all was in readiness, and the plaintiff with +his witness drove away in the gig to the station, where Morris +waited to bring the old horse back.</p> +<p><!-- page 93--><a name="page93"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +93</span>And as the train came into the little country station I +awoke.</p> +<p style="text-align: center">* * * * *</p> +<p>“I hope,” cried my wife, “that Mr. Prigg is +a respectable man.”</p> +<p>“Respectable,” I answered, “I know he is; +but whether he is honest is another matter.”</p> +<p>“But don’t you know?”</p> +<p>“I only know what I dream.”</p> +<p>“I have no opinion of him,” said she; “nor +of that Locust; I believe they are a couple of rogues.”</p> +<p>“I should be very sorry to suggest such a thing as +that,” I answered, “without some proof. +Everybody should give credit for the best of motives.”</p> +<p>“But what are all these summonses you speak +of?”</p> +<p>“O, they are summonses in the action. You may have +as many of them as you can invent occasion for. You may go +up to the Court of Appeal about twenty times before you try the +action, which means about eighty different hearings before Master +and Judges.”</p> +<p>“But how can a poor man endure that? It’s a +great shame.”</p> +<p>“He can’t—he may have a perfectly good cause +of action against a rich man or a rich company, and they can +utterly ruin him before ever his case can come into +Court.”</p> +<p>“But will no solicitor take it up for the poor +man?”</p> +<p>“Yes, some will, and the only reward they usually get +for their pains is to be stigmatized as having brought a +speculative action—accused of doing it for the sake of +costs; although I have known the most honourable men do it out of +pure sympathy for the poor man.”</p> +<p>“And so they ought,” cried she.</p> +<p><!-- page 94--><a name="page94"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +94</span>“And I trust,” said I, “that hereafter +it will be considered honourable to do so. It is quite as +honourable, in my judgment, to bring an action when you may never +be paid as to bring it when you know you will be.”</p> +<p>“Who was the person referred to as ‘the +man?’”</p> +<p>“I don’t know,” said I, “but I +strongly suspect he is, in reality, a nominee of +Prigg’s.”</p> +<p>“That is exactly my opinion,” said my wife. +“And if so, between them, they will ruin that poor +man.”</p> +<p>“I can’t tell,” said I, lighting my +pipe. “I know no more about the future of my dream +than you do; maybe when I sleep again something else will +transpire.”</p> +<p>“But can no one do anything to alter this state of +things? I plainly perceive that they are all against this +poor Bumpkin.”</p> +<p>“Well, you see, in a tinkering sort of way, a good many +try their hands at reforming the law; but it’s to no +one’s interest, that I can see, to reform it.”</p> +<p>“I hope you’ll write this dream and publish it, so +that someone’s eyes may be opened.”</p> +<p>“It may make me enemies.”</p> +<p>“Not among honest people; they will all be on your side, +and the dishonest ones, who seem to me to be the only persons +benefited by such a dilatory and shocking mode of procedure, are +the very persons whose enmity you need not fear. But can +the Judges do nothing?”</p> +<p>“No; their duty is merely to administer the law, not to +change it. But if the people would only give them full +power and fair play, Old Fogeyism would be buried +to-morrow. They struggle might and main to break through +the fetters, but to no purpose while they are hampered by musty +old precedents, ridiculous forms and bad statutes. They are +not masters of the situation. I <!-- page 95--><a +name="page95"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 95</span>wish they +were for the sake of suitors. I would only make one +condition with regard to them. If they were to set about +the task of reform, I would not let the Equity Judges reform the +Common Law nor the Common Law Judges the Equity.”</p> +<p>“I thought they were fused.”</p> +<p>“No, only transposed.”</p> +<h2><!-- page 97--><a name="page97"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +97</span>CHAPTER XI.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Commencement of London life and +adventures.</p> +<p>And I dreamt again, and methought there were three things with +reference to London that Joe had learnt at school. First, +that there was a Bridge, chiefly remarkable for the fact that +Captain Cook, the Navigator, shot his servant because he said he +was under London Bridge when he was in the South Pacific Ocean; +secondly, that there was a famous Tower, where the Queen’s +Crown was kept; thirdly, that there was a Monument built to show +where the Great Fire began, and intimately connected in its cause +with Guy Faux, whom Joe had helped to carry on the Fifth of +November. Now when the young man woke in the morning at +“The Goose,” in Millbank Street, Westminster, his +attention was immediately attracted by these three historic +objects; and it was not till after he had made inquiries that he +found that it was not London Bridge that crossed the water in a +line with the Horseferry Road, but a very inferior structure +called Lambeth Suspension Bridge. Nor was the Tower on the +left the Tower of London, but the Lollards’ tower of +Lambeth Palace; while the supposed Monument was only the handsome +column of Messrs. Doulton’s Pottery.</p> +<p>But they were all interesting objects nevertheless; and so +were the huge cranes that were at work opposite the <!-- page +98--><a name="page98"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 98</span>house +lifting the most tremendous loads of goods from the lighters to +the wharves. The “Shipping,” too, with its +black and copper-coloured sails, gave some idea of the extent of +England’s mercantile marine. At all events, it +excited the country lad’s wonder and astonishment. +But there was another matter that gave quite an agricultural and +countrified look to the busy scene, and that was the prodigious +quantity of straw that was being unloaded from the barges +alongside. While Mr. Bumpkin went to see his solicitor at +Westminster Hall, Joe wandered about the wharves looking at the +boats and barges, the cranes and busy workmen who drove their +barrows from barge to wharf, and ran along with loads on their +backs over narrow planks, in the most lively manner. But +looking on, even at sights like these, day by day, becomes a +wearisome task, and Joe, being by no means an idle lad, +occasionally “lent a hand” where he saw an +opportunity. London, no doubt, was a very interesting +place, but when he had seen Page Street, and Wood Street, and +Church Street, and Abingdon Street, and Millbank Prison, and the +other interesting objects referred to, his curiosity was +gratified, and he began to grow tired of the sameness of the +place. Occasionally he saw a soldier or two and the +military sight fired his rustic imagination. Not that Joe +had the remotest intention of entering the army; it was the last +thing he would ever dream of; but, in common with all mankind he +liked to look at the smart bearing and brilliant uniform of the +sergeant, who seemed to have little else to do than walk about +with his cane under his arm, or tap the stone parapet with it as +he looked carelessly at some interesting object on the river.</p> +<p><!-- page 99--><a name="page99"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +99</span>The evenings in the taproom at “The Goose” +were among the most enjoyable periods of the lad’s London +existence. A select party usually gathered there, +consisting chiefly of a young man who never apparently had had +anything to do in his life. His name was Harry Highlow, a +clever sort of wild young scapegrace who played well at +“shove-ha’penny,” and sang a good comic +song. Another of the party was a youth who earned a +precarious livelihood by carrying two boards on his shoulders +advertising a great pickle, or a great singer, as the case might +be. Another of the company was a young man who was either a +discharged or a retired groom; I should presume the former, as he +complained bitterly that the authorities at Scotland Yard would +not grant him a licence to drive a cab. He appeared to be a +striking instance of how every kind of patronage in this country +is distributed by favouritism. There were several others, +all equally candidates for remunerative situations, but equally +unfortunate in obtaining them: proving conclusively that life is +indeed a lottery in which there may be a few prizes, usually +going, by the caprice of Fortune, to the undeserving, while the +blanks went indiscriminately to all the rest.</p> +<p>Bound together by the sympathy which a common misfortune +engenders, these young men were happy in the pursuit of their +innocent amusements at “The Goose.” And while, +at first, they were a little inclined to chaff the rustic youth +on account of his apparent simplicity, they soon learned to +respect him on account of his exceedingly good temper and his +willingness to fall in with the general views of the company on +all occasions. They learnt all about Joe’s business +in London, and it was a common greeting when they met <!-- page +100--><a name="page100"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 100</span>in +the evening to ask “how the pig was?” And they +would enquire what the Lord Chancellor thought about the case, +and whether it wouldn’t be as well to grease the +pig’s tail and have a pig-hunt. To all which jocular +observations Joe would reply with excellent temper and sometimes +with no inappropriate wit. And then they said they would +like to see Joe tackle Mr. Orkins, and believed he would shut him +up. But chaff never roused his temper, and he laughed at +the case as much as any man there. Fine tales he would have +to tell when he got back to Yokelton; and pleasant, no doubt, +would be in after-life, his recollections of the evenings at +“The Goose.”</p> +<p>As a great general surveys the field where the intended action +is to be fought, so Mr. Bumpkin was conducted by Horatio to +Westminster Hall, and shown the various Courts of Justice, and +some of the judges.</p> +<p>“Be this Chancery?” he enquired.</p> +<p>“O my eye, no!” said Horatio; “the cause has +been transferred from Chancery to these ’ere Common Law +Courts. It was only brought in Chancery because the costs +there are upon a higher scale; we didn’t mean to try her +there.”</p> +<p>“Where will she be tried then?”</p> +<p>“In one of these Courts.”</p> +<p>“Who be the judge?” whispered Bumpkin.</p> +<p>At this moment there was a loud shout of +“Silence!” and although Mr. Bumpkin was making no +noise whatever, a gentleman approached him, looking very angry, +and enquired if Mr. Bumpkin desired to be committed for contempt +of Court.</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin thought the most prudent answer was silence; so he +remained speechless, looking the gentleman <!-- page 101--><a +name="page101"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 101</span>full in the +face; while the gentleman looked him full in the face for at +least a minute and a half, as if he were wondering whether he +should take him off to prison there and then, or give him another +chance, as the judge sometimes does a prisoner when he sentences +him to two years imprisonment with hard labour.</p> +<p>Now the gentleman was a very amiable man of about forty, with +large brown mutton-chop whiskers, and a very well trained +moustache; good-looking and, I should think, with some humour, +that is for a person connected with the Courts. He was +something about the Court, but in what capacity he held up his +official head, I am unable to say. He was evidently +regarded with great respect by the crowd of visitors. It +was some time before he took his gaze off Mr. Bumpkin; even when +he had taken his eyes off, he seemed looking at him as if he +feared that the moment he went away Bumpkin would do it +again.</p> +<p>And then methought I heard someone whisper near me: “His +lordship is going to give judgment in the case of <i>Starling</i> +v. <i>Nightingale</i>,” and all at once there was a great +peace. I lost sight of Bumpkin, I lost sight of the +gentleman, I lost sight of the crowd; an indefinable sensation of +delight overpowered my senses. Where was I? I had but +a moment before been in a Court of Justice, with crowds of gaping +idlers; with prosaic-looking gentlemen in horsehair wigs; with +gentlemen in a pew with papers before them ready to take down the +proceedings. Now it seemed as if I must be far away in the +distant country, where all was calm and heavenly peace.</p> +<p>Surely I must be among the water-lilies! What a lullaby +sound as of rippling waters and of distant music <!-- page +102--><a name="page102"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 102</span>in +the evening air; of the eddying and swirl of the mingling +currents; of the chime of bells on the evening breeze; of the +zephyrs through fir-tops; of woodland whispers; of the cadence of +the cathedral organ; of the soft sweet melody of the +maiden’s laugh; of her gentlest accents in her sweetest +mood; of—but similitudes fail me. In this delicious +retreat, which may be compared to the Garden of Eden before the +tempter entered, are the choicest flowers of rhetoric. I +hear a voice as from the far-off past, and I wonder will that be +the voice which will utter the “last syllable of recorded +time?”</p> +<p>Then methought the scene changed, and I heard the +question—</p> +<p>“Do you move, Mr. Jones?”</p> +<p>O the prosaic Jones!—“don’t you +move?”</p> +<p>Yes, he does; he partly rises, ducks his head, and elevates +the hinder portion of his person, and his movement ceases. +And the question is repeated to Mr. Quick. “Do you +move, Mr. Quick?”</p> +<p>Then I saw Mr. Bumpkin again, just as Mr. Quick ducked his +head and elevated his back.</p> +<p>And then some gentleman actually moved in real earnest upon +these interesting facts:—A farmer’s bull—just +the very case for Mr. Bumpkin—had strayed from the road and +gone into another man’s yard, and upset a tub of meal; was +then driven into a shed and locked up. The owner of the +bull came up and demanded that the animal should be +released. “Not without paying two pounds,” said +the meal-owner. The bull owner paid it under protest, and +summoned the meal-owner to the County Court for one pound +seventeen shillings and sixpence, the difference between the +damage done (which was really about twopence) and the money paid +to redeem <!-- page 103--><a name="page103"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 103</span>the bull. Judgment for the +plaintiff. Motion for new trial, or to enter verdict for +the defendant, on the ground that the meal man could charge what +he liked.</p> +<p>One of the learned Judges asked:</p> +<p>“Do you mean to tell me, Mr. Smiles, that if a man has a +bull, and that bull goes into a yard and eats some meal out of a +meal-tub, and the damage amounts to twopence, and the owner of +the bull says ‘here’s your twopence,’ that the +owner of the meal can say, “No, I want a hundred pounds, +and shall take your bull damage feasant,” and then takes +him and locks him up, and the owner of the bull pays the hundred +pounds, he cannot afterwards get the money back?”</p> +<p>“That is so,” says the learned counsel, +“such is the law.” And then he cited cases +innumerable to prove that it was the law.</p> +<p>“Well,” said the Judge, “unless you show me +a case of a bull and a meal-tub, I shall not pay attention to any +case—must be a meal-tub.”</p> +<p>Second Judge: “It is extortion, and done for the purpose +of extortion; and I should say he could be indicted for obtaining +money by false pretences.”</p> +<p>“I am not sure he could not, my lord,” said the +counsel; “but he can’t recover the money +back.”</p> +<p>“Then,” said the Judge, “if he obtains money +by an indictable fraud cannot he get it back?”</p> +<p>“Well,” said Bumpkin, “that be rum law; if +it had bin my bull, he’d a gin ’em summat afore they +runned him in.”</p> +<p>It was interesting to see how the judges struggled against +this ridiculous law; and it was manifest even to the unlettered +Bumpkin, that a good deal of old law is very much like old +clothes, the worse for wear, and <!-- page 104--><a +name="page104"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 104</span>totally +inapplicable to the present day. A struggle against old +authorities is often a struggle of Judges to free themselves from +the fetters of antiquated dicta and decisions no longer +appropriate to or necessary for the modern requirements of +civilisation.</p> +<p>In this case precedents running over <i>one hundred and eight +years</i> were quoted, and so far from impressing the Court with +respect, they simply evoked a smile of contempt.</p> +<p>The learned Judges, after patiently listening to the +arguments, decided that extortion and fraud give no title, and +thus were the mists and vapours that arose from the accumulated +mudbanks of centuries dispelled by the clear shining of common +sense. In spite of arguments by the hour, and the +pettifogging of one hundred and eight years, justice prevailed, +and the amazed appellant was far more damaged by his legal +proceedings than he was by the bull. The moral surely is, +that however wise ancient judges were in their day, their wisdom +ought not to be allowed to work injustice. He may be a wise +Judge who makes a precedent, but he is often a much wiser who +sweeps it away.</p> +<h2><!-- page 105--><a name="page105"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 105</span>CHAPTER XII.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">How the great Don O’Rapley became an +usher of the Court of Queen’s Bench and explained the +ingenious invention of the round square—how Mr. Bumpkin +took the water and studied character from a penny steamboat.</p> +<p>Some years ago there lived in a little village near +Bridgewater a young man who was the bowler of his village +eleven—one of the first roundhand bowlers in point of time, +and by no means the last in point of merit. Indeed, so +great was the local fame of this young man that it produced a +sensation for miles around when it was announced that Don +O’Rapley (such was his name) was going to bowl. All +the boys of the village where the match was to take place were in +a state of the utmost excitement to see the Don. At times +it was even suggested that he was unfairly “smugged +in” to play for a village to which he had no pretensions to +belong. In process of time the youth became a man, and by +virtue of his cricket reputation he obtained a post in the Court +of Queen’s Bench. The gentleman whom I have referred +to as looking with such austerity at Mr. Bumpkin is that very Don +O’Rapley; the requirements of a large family necessitated +his abandonment of a profession which, although more to his +taste, was not sufficiently remunerative to admit of his +indulging it <!-- page 106--><a name="page106"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 106</span>after the birth of his sixth +child. But it was certain that he never lost his love for +the relinquished pursuit, as was manifest from his habit when +alone of frequently going through a kind of dumb motion with his +arm as if he were delivering one of his celebrated +“twisters.” He had even been seen in a quiet +corner of the Court to go through the same performance in a +somewhat modified form. He was once caught by the Judge in +the very act of delivering a ball, but found a ready apology in +the explanation that he had a touch of “rheumatiz” in +his right shoulder.</p> +<p>Now I saw in my dream that Don O’Rapley was in earnest +conversation with Horatio, and it was clear Mr. Bumpkin was the +subject of it, from the very marked manner in which the Don and +the youth turned occasionally to look at him. It may be +stated that Horatio was the nephew of Don O’Rapley, and, +perhaps, it was partly in consequence of this relationship, and +partly in consequence of what Horatio told him, that the latter +gentleman rose from his seat under the witness-box and came +towards Mr. Bumpkin, shouting as he did so in a very solemn and +prolonged tone, “Si-lence!”</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin saw him, and, conscious that he was innocent this +time of any offence for which he could be committed, stood his +ground with a bold front, and firmly held his white beaver with +both hands. O’Rapley contemplated him for a few +minutes with an almost affectionate interest. Bumpkin felt +much as a pigeon would under the gaze of an admiring owl.</p> +<p>At last O’Rapley spoke:—</p> +<p>“Why, it’s never Mr. Bumpkin, is it?”</p> +<p>“It be a good imitation, sir,” said Bumpkin, +“and I bean’t asheamed of un.”</p> +<p><!-- page 107--><a name="page107"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +107</span>“Silence!” cried the Don. “You +don’t remember me, I s’pose?”</p> +<p>“Wall, not rightly, I doan’t.”</p> +<p>“I dissay you recollect Don O’Rapley, the demon +bowler of Bridgewater?”</p> +<p>“I’ve ’eered tell on ’im,” said +Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“I’m that man!” said the Don, “and +this is my nephew, Mr. Snigger. He tells me you’ve +got a case comin’ on?”</p> +<p>“I be.”</p> +<p>“Just step outside,” said the Don, “we +mustn’t talk ’ere.” So they went into +Westminster Hall, and the good-natured O’Rapley asked if +Mr. Bumpkin would like to look round, and if so he said he would +be happy to show him, for he was very pleased to see anyone from +the scene of his youthful exploits.</p> +<p>“Thankee, sir—thankee, sir,” answered +Bumpkin, delighted to find another “native” among +“furriners.” “And this ’ere +genleman be thy nevvy, sir?”</p> +<p>“He is, and very proud of him I am; he’s my +sister’s son.”</p> +<p>“Seems a nice quiet boy,” said Mr. Bumpkin. +“Now how old might he be?”</p> +<p>“Old,” said Mr. O’Rapley, looking deedily at +the floor and pressing his hand to his forehead, “why +he’ll be seventeen come March.”</p> +<p>“Hem! his ’ed be a good deal older nor thic: his +’ed be forty—it’s my way o’ +thinkin’.”</p> +<p>The Don laughed.</p> +<p>“Yes, he has his head screwed on the right way, I +think.”</p> +<p>“Why that air lad,” said Bumpkin, “might +make a judge.”</p> +<p><!-- page 108--><a name="page108"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +108</span>O’Rapley laughed and shook his head.</p> +<p>“In old times,” said he, “he might ha’ +made a Lord Chancellor; a man as was clever had a chance then, +but lor’ blesh you, Mr. Bumpkin, now-a-days it’s so +very different; the raw material is that plentiful in the law +that you can find fifty men as would make rattlin good Lord +Chancellors for one as you could pick out to make a +rattlin’ good bowler. But come, we’ll have a +look round.”</p> +<p>So round they looked again, and Mr. Bumpkin was duly impressed +with the array of wigs and the number of books and the solemnity +of the judges and the arguments of counsel, not one word of which +was intelligible to him. Mr. O’Rapley explained +everything and pointed out where a judge and jury tried a case, +and then took him into another court where two judges tried the +judge and jury, and very often set them both aside and gave new +trials and altered verdicts and judgments or refused to do so +notwithstanding the elaborate arguments of the most eloquent and +long-winded of learned counsel.</p> +<p>Then the Don asked if Mr. Bumpkin would like to see the +Chancery Judges—to which Mr. Bumpkin answered that +“he hadn’t much opinion o’ Chancery from all +he’d ’eeard, and that when a man got into them there +Cooarts maybe he’d never coome out agin, but he +shouldn’t mind seein’ a Chancery Judge.”</p> +<p>“Well, then,” said the distinguished bowler, +“now-a-days we needn’t go to Chancery, for +they’ve invented the ‘Round Square.’”</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin stared. Could so great a man as the +O’Rapley be joking? No; the Don seldom laughed. +He was a great admirer of everything relating to the law, but had +a marked prejudice against the new system; <!-- page 109--><a +name="page109"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 109</span>and when he +spoke of the “Round Square” he meant, as he +afterwards explained, that confusion of Law and Equity which +consists in putting Chancery Judges to try common law cases and +Common Law Judges to unravel the nice twistings of the elaborate +system of Equity; “as though,” said he, “you +should fuse the butcher and the baker by getting the former to +make bread and the latter to dress a calf.”</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin could only stare by way of reply.</p> +<p>“If you want to see Chancery Judges,” added the +Don, “come to the Old Bailey!”</p> +<h2><!-- page 111--><a name="page111"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 111</span>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">An interesting gentleman—showing how +true it is that one half the world does not know how the other +half lives.</p> +<p>“The Old Bailey,” said Mr. Bumpkin, as they +crossed Palace Yard on their way to the steamboat pier, +“bean’t that where all these ’ere chaps be +tried for ship stealin’?” (sheep stealing).</p> +<p>“I don’t know about ship stealing,” said +O’Rapley, “but it’s a place where they can cure +all sorts of diseases.”</p> +<p>“Zounds!” exclaimed Bumpkin, “I’ve +’eeard tell of un. A horsepital you +means—dooan’t want to goo there.”</p> +<p>“Horse or donkey, it don’t matter what,” +said Don O’Rapley. “They’ve got a stuff +that’s so strong a single drop will cure any disease +you’ve got.”</p> +<p>“I wonder if it ’ud cure my old +’ooman’s roomatiz. It ’ud be wuth +tryin’, maybe.”</p> +<p>“I’ll warrant it,” replied the Don. +“She’d never feel ’em after takin’ one +drop,” and he drew his hand across his mouth and +coughed.</p> +<p>“I’d like to try un,” said the farmer, +“for she be a terrible suffrer in these ’ere east +winds. ’As ’em like all up the +grine.”</p> +<p>“Ah,” said the Don, “it don’t matter +where she ’as ’em, it will cure her.”</p> +<p>“How do ’em sell it—in bottles?”</p> +<p><!-- page 112--><a name="page112"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +112</span>“No, it isn’t in bottles—you take it +by the foot; about nine feet’s considered a goodish +dose.”</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin looked straight before him, somewhat puzzled at +this extraordinary description of a medicine. At length he +got a glimmering of the Don’s meaning, and, looking +towards, but not quite at him, said:—</p> +<p>“I be up to ’ee, sir!” and the Don laughed, +and asked whether his description wasn’t right?</p> +<p>“That be right enough. Zounds! it be right +enough. Haw! haw! haw!”</p> +<p>“You never want a second dose,” said the Don, +“do you?”</p> +<p>“No, sir—never wants moore ’an one dose; but +’ow comes it, if you please, sir, that these ’ere +Chancery chaps have changed their tack; be it they’ve tried +’onest men so long that they be gwine to ’ave a slap +at the thieves for a change?”</p> +<p>“Look ’ere,” said the worthy O’Rapley, +“you will certainly see the inside of a jail before you set +eyes on the outside of a haystack, if you go on like that. +It’s contempt of court to speak of Her Majesty’s +Judges as ‘chaps’.”</p> +<p>“Beg pardon, sir,” said Bumpkin, “but we +must all ’ave a larnin’. I didn’t mane no +disruspect to the Lord Judge; but I wur only a axin’ jist +the same as you might ax me about anythink on my farm.”</p> +<p>And I saw that they proceeded thus in edifying conversation +until they came to the Thames embankment. It was somewhat +difficult to preserve his presence of mind as Mr. Bumpkin +descended the gangway and stepped on board the boat, which was +belching forth its volumes of black smoke and rocking under the +influence of the wash of a steamer that had just left the +pier.</p> +<p><!-- page 113--><a name="page113"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +113</span>“I doant much like these ’ere +booats,” said he. “Doant mind my old punt, but +dang these ’ere ships.”</p> +<p>“There’s no danger,” said the +O’Rapley, springing on board as though he had been a pilot: +and then making a motion with his arm as if he was delivering a +regular “length ball,” his fist unfortunately came +down on Mr. Bumpkin’s white hat, in consequence of a sudden +jerk of the vessel; a rocking boat not being the best of places +for the delivery of length balls.</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin looked round quite in the wrong direction for +ascertaining what was the cause of the sudden shock to his +nervous system and his hat.</p> +<p>“Zounds!” said he, “what were +thic?”</p> +<p>“What was what?” asked O’Rapley.</p> +<p>“Summut gie me a crack o’ the top o’ my +’ead like a thunderbolt.”</p> +<p>“I didn’t see anything fall,” said the +Don.</p> +<p>“Noa; but I felt un, which I allows wur more’n +seein’—lookee ’ere.”</p> +<p>And taking off his huge beaver he showed the dent of Mr. +O’Rapley’s fist.</p> +<p>“Bless me,” said the roundhand bowler, +“it’s like a crack with a cricket ball.”</p> +<p>But there was no time for further examination of the +extraordinary circumstance, for the crowd of passengers poured +along and pushed this way and that, so that the two friends were +fairly driven to the fore part of the boat, where they took their +seats. It was quite a new world to Mr. Bumpkin, and more +like a dream than a reality. As he stared at the different +buildings he was too much amazed even to enquire what was this or +what was that. But when they passed under the Suspension +Bridge, and the chimney ducked her head and the smoke <!-- page +114--><a name="page114"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +114</span>came out of the “stump,” as Mr. Bumpkin +termed it, he thought she had struck and broken short off. +Mr. O’Rapley explained this phenomenon, as he did many +others on their route; and when they came to Cleopatra’s +Needle he gave such information as he possessed concerning that +ancient work. Mr. Bumpkin looked as though he were not to +be taken in.</p> +<p>“I be up to ’ee, sir,” said he. +“I s’pose that air thing the t’other side were +the needle-case?”</p> +<p>The O’Rapley informed him that it was a shot tower where +they made shot.</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin laughed heartily at this; he was not to be taken +in by any manner of means; was far too sharp for that.</p> +<p>“And I spoase,” said he, “they makes the +guns—”</p> +<p>“In Gunnersbury,” said Mr. O’Rapley; it was +no use to be serious.</p> +<p>“I thought thee were gwine to say in a gun pit, but I +don’t mind thy chaff, Master Rapley, and shall be mighty +proud to see thee down at Southood for a day’s +shoot-in’: and mind thee bring some o’ these ere shot +with thee that be made at yon tower, haw! haw! haw! +Thee’ll kill a white-tailed crow then, I shouldn’t +wonder; thee knows a white-tailed crow, doan’t thee, Master +Rapley, when thee sees un—and danged if I doan’t gie +thee a quart bottle o’ pigeon’s milk to tak’ +wi’ thee; haw! haw! haw!”</p> +<p>The O’Rapley laughed heartily at these witty sallies, +for Bumpkin was so jolly, and took everything in such good part, +that he could not but enjoy his somewhat misplaced sarcasms.</p> +<p>“Now you’ve heard of Waterloo, I dare say,” +said Mr. O’Rapley.</p> +<p><!-- page 115--><a name="page115"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +115</span>“Yes, I’ve ’eeard tell on un, and +furder, my grand-feather wur out theer.”</p> +<p>“Well, this that we are coming to is Waterloo +Bridge.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Bumpkin, “it be a bridge, but it +bean’t Worterloo more ’an I be my +grandfearther—what de think o’ that—haw! haw! +haw!”</p> +<p>“Good,” said O’Rapley; “that’s +quite right, but this is the bridge named after the +battle.”</p> +<p>“Zo’t be neamed artur un because it worn’t +named afore un, haw! haw! haw! Good agin, Maister Rapley, +thee got it.”</p> +<p>Mr. O’Rapley found that any attempt to convey +instruction was useless, so he said:—</p> +<p>“Joking apart, Mr. Bumpkin, you see that man sitting +over there with the wideawake hat?”</p> +<p>“D’ye mane near the noase o’ the +ship?”</p> +<p>“Well, the nose if you like.”</p> +<p>“I zee un—chap wi’ red faace, blue +’ankercher, and white spots?”</p> +<p>“That’s the man. Well, now, you’d +never guess who he is?”</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin certainly would have been a sharp man if he +could.</p> +<p>“Well,” continued the Don, “that man gets +his living by bringing actions. No matter who it is or +what, out comes the writ and down he comes for +damages.”</p> +<p>“Hem! that be rum, too, bean’t it?”</p> +<p>“Yes, he’s always looking out for accidents; if he +hears o’ one, down he comes with his pocket-book, gets +’old o’ some chap that’s injured, or thinks he +is, and out comes the writ.”</p> +<p><!-- page 116--><a name="page116"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +116</span>“What be he then?”</p> +<p>“A scamp—works in the name of some broken-down +attorney, and pays him for the use of it.”</p> +<p>“So he can work the lor like wirout being a +loryer?”</p> +<p>“That’s it—and, lor’ bless you, +he’s got such a way with him that if he was to come and +talk to you for five minutes, he’d have a writ out against +you in the morning.”</p> +<p>“Ain’t it rayther cold at this eend o’ the +booat,” asked Mr. Bumpkin, “I feel a little chilly +loike.”</p> +<p>“No,” said the Don, “we just caught the wind +at that corner, that was all.”</p> +<p>But Mr. Bumpkin kept his eye on the artful man, with a full +determination to “have no truck wi’ un.”</p> +<p>“As I was saying, this Ananias never misses a chance: +he’s on the look-out at this moment; if they was to push +that gangway against his toe, down he’d go and be laid up +with an injured spine and concussion of the brain, till he got +damages from the company.”</p> +<p>“Must be a reg’ler rogue, I allows; I should like +to push un overboard.”</p> +<p>“Just what he would like; he isn’t born to be +drowned, that man; he’d soon have a writ out against +you. There was a railway accident once miles away in the +country; ever so many people were injured and some of ’em +killed. Well, down he goes to see if he could get hold of +anybody—no, nobody would have him—so what does he do +but bring an action himself.”</p> +<p>“What for?”</p> +<p>“Why, just the same as if he’d been in the +accident.”</p> +<p>“Ought to be hanged.”</p> +<p>“Well, the doctors were very pleased to find that no +bones were broken, and, although there were no bruises, <!-- page +117--><a name="page117"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +117</span>they discovered that there were internal injuries: the +spine was wrong, and there was concussion of the brain, and so +on.”</p> +<p>“If ever I ’eerd tell o’ sich a thing in my +borned days.”</p> +<p>“No, but it’s true. Well, he was laid up a +long time under medical treatment, and it was months before he +could get about, and then he brings his action: but before it +came on he prosecutes his servant for stealing some trumpery +thing or other—a very pretty girl she was too—and the +trial came on at Quarter Sessions.”</p> +<p>“Where Squoire Stooky sits.”</p> +<p>“I never laughed so in all my life; there was the +railway company with the red light, and there was Fireaway, the +counsel for the girl, and then in hobbled the prosecutor, with a +great white bandage round his head. He was so feeble +through the injuries he had received that he could hardly +walk. ‘Now then,’ says the counsel, ‘is +he sworn?’ ‘Yes,’ says the crier.</p> +<p>“‘He must be sworn on the Koran,’ says +Fireaway; ‘he’s a Mommadon.’</p> +<p>“‘Where’s the Jorum?’ says the +crier. ‘Must be swore on the Jorum.’</p> +<p>“O dear, dear, you should ha’ heard ’em +laugh—it was more like a theayter than a court. It +was not only roars, but continnerus roars for several +minutes. And all the time the larfter was going on there +was this man throwin’ out his arms over the witness-box at +the counsel like a madman; and the more he raved the more they +laughed. He was changed from a hobblin’ invalid, as +the counsel said, into a hathletic pugilist.”</p> +<p>“I ’ope she got off.”</p> +<p>“Got off with flying colours—we’re +magnanimous said the jury, ‘not guilty.’”</p> +<p><!-- page 118--><a name="page118"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +118</span>“Well, I likes upright and down-straight,” +said Bumpkin, “it’ll goo furdest in th’ long +run.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said O’Rapley, “and the longer +the run the furder it’ll go.”</p> +<p>“So ’t wool; but if you doan’t mind, sir, +I’d like to get nearer that ’ere +fireplace.”</p> +<p>“The funnel—very well.” And as they +moved Mr. O’Rapley, in the exuberance of his spirits, +delivered another ball at the chimney, which apparently took the +middle stump, for the chimney again broke in half.</p> +<p>“Got him!” said he. “I quite agree, +and I’ll tell you for why. You can play a straight +ball if you mind what you are about—just take your bat so, +and bring your left elbow well round so, and keep your bat, as +you say, upright and down-straight, so—and there you +are. And there, indeed, Mr. Bumpkin was, on his back, for +the boat at that moment bumped so violently against the side of +the pier that many persons were staggering about as if they were +in a storm.</p> +<p>“Zounds!” said the farmer, as he was being picked +up—“these ’ere booats, I doan’t like +’em—gie me the ole-fashioned uns.”</p> +<p>Now came the usual hullabaloo, “Stand back!—pass +on!—out of the way! now, then, look sharp there!” and +the pushing of the gangway against people’s shins as though +they were so many skittles to be knocked over, and then came the +slow process of “passing out.”</p> +<p>“There’s one thing,” whispered +O’Rapley, “if you do break your leg the +company’s liable—that’s one comfort.”</p> +<p>“Thankee, sir,” answered Bumpkin, “but I +bean’t a gwine to break my leg for the sake o’ a +haction—and mebbee ha’ to pay the costs.”</p> +<h2><!-- page 119--><a name="page119"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 119</span>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">THE OLD BAILEY—ADVANTAGES OF THE NEW +SYSTEM ILLUSTRATED.</p> +<p>And I saw in my dream that Don O’Rapley and worthy +Master Bumpkin proceeded together until they came to the Old +Bailey; that delightful place which will ever impress me with the +belief that the Satanic Personage is not a homeless +wanderer. As they journeyed together O’Rapley asked +whether there was any particular kind of case which he would +prefer—much the same as he would enquire what he would like +for lunch.</p> +<p>“Well, thankee, sir,” said Bumpkin, “what he +there?”—just the same as a hungry guest would ask the +waiter for the bill of fare.</p> +<p>“Well,” said Mr. O’Rapley, +“there’s no murder to-day, but there’s sure to +be highway robberies, burglaries, rapes, and so on.”</p> +<p>“Wall, I thinks one o’ them air as good as +anything,” said Bumpkin. “I wur on the jury +once when a chap were tried.”</p> +<p>“Did he get off?”</p> +<p>“Got off as clane as a whusle. Not guilty, we all +said: sarved her right.”</p> +<p>“It’s rather early in the morning, +p’r’aps,” said O’Rapley; “but +there’s sure to be something interesting <!-- page 120--><a +name="page120"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 120</span>before +lunch—crimes are very pop’lar, and for my own part, I +think they’re as nice as anything: divorces, +p’r’aps, are as good, and the female intellect +prefers ’em as a more digestable food for their +minds.”</p> +<p>“As a what, sir!”</p> +<p>“Well, since they did away with <i>crim. cons</i>, +there’s nothing left for females but murders and divorces, +worth speaking of.”</p> +<p>“Why, how’s that, then?”</p> +<p>“O, they’re not considered sufficiently moral, +that’s all. You see, Master Bumpkin, we’re +getting to be a very moral and good people. They’re +doin’ away with all that’s naughty, such as music and +dancing, peep-shows and country fairs. This is a religious +age. No pictur galleries on a Sunday, but as many +public-houses as you like; it’s wicked to look at picturs +on a Sunday. And now I’ll tell you another thing, +Master Bumpkin, although p’r’aps I ought to keep my +mouth closed; but ’ere you’ll see a Chancery Judge as +knows everything about land and titles to property, and all that, +and never had any training in Criminal Courts, and may be never +been inside of one before, you’ll see ’im down +’ere tryin’ burglaries and robberies, and down at the +Assizes you’ll see ’im tryin’ men and women for +stealing mutton pies and a couple of ounces of bacon; +that’s the way the Round Square’s worked, Master +Bumpkin; and very well it acts. There’s a moral +atmosphere, too, about the Courts which is very curious. It +seems to make every crime look bigger than it really is. +But as I say, where’s the human natur of a Chancery +barrister? How can you get it in Chancery? They only +sees human natur in a haffidavit, and although I don’t say +you can’t <!-- page 121--><a name="page121"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 121</span>put a lot of it into a haffidavit, +such as perjury and such like, yet it’s so done up by the +skill of the profession that you can hardly see it. +Learning from haffidavits isn’t like learning from the +witness-box, mark my words, Mr. Bumpkin; and so you’ll find +when you come to hear a case or two.”</p> +<p>Having thus eloquently delivered himself, Mr. O’Rapley +paused to see its effect: but there was no answer. There +was no doubt the Don could talk a-bit, and took especial pride in +expressing his views on law reform, which, to his idea, would +best be effected by returning to the “old style.”</p> +<p>And I saw that they pushed their way through a crowd of people +of all sorts and degrees of unwashedness and crime, and proceeded +up a winding stair, through other crowds of the most evil-looking +indictable persons you could meet with out of the Bottomless +Pit.</p> +<p>And amongst them were pushing, with eager, hungry, dirty +faces, men who called themselves clerks, evil-disposed persons +who traded under such names as their owners could use no longer +on their own account. These prowlers amongst thieves, under +the protection of the Law, were permitted to extort what they +could from the friends of miserable prisoners under pretence of +engaging counsel to defend them. Counsel they would engage +after a fashion—sometimes: but not unfrequently they +cheated counsel, client and the law at the same time, which is +rather better than killing two birds with one stone.</p> +<p>And the two friends, after threading their way through the +obnoxious crowd, came to the principal Court of the Old Bailey, +called the “Old Court,” and a very evil-looking <!-- +page 122--><a name="page122"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +122</span>place it was. All the ghosts of past criminals +seemed floating in the dingy atmosphere. Crowds of men, +women and children were heaped together in all directions, except +on the bench and in a kind of pew which was reserved for such +ladies as desired to witness the last degradation of human +nature.</p> +<p>Presently came in, announced with a loud cry of +“Silence!” and “Be uncovered in Court!” a +gorgeous array of stout and berobed gentlemen, with massive +chains and purple faces. These, I learned, were the noble +Aldermen of the Corporation. What a contrast to the meagre +wretches who composed the crowd! Here was a picture of what +well-fed honesty and virtue could accomplish for human nature on +the one part, as opposed to what hungry crime could effect, on +the other. Blessings, say I, on good victuals! It is +a great promoter of innocence. And I thought how many of +the poor, half-starved, cadaverous wretches who crowded into the +dock in all their emaciated wretchedness and rags would, under +other conditions, have become as portly and rubicund and as moral +as the row of worthy aldermen who sat looking at them with +contempt from their exalted position.</p> +<p>The rich man doesn’t steal a loaf of bread; he has no +temptation to do so: the uneducated thief doesn’t get up +sham companies, because <i>he</i> has no temptation to do +so. Temptation and Opportunity have much to answer for in +the destinies of men. Honesty is the best policy, but it is +not always the most expedient or practicable.</p> +<p>Now there was much arraignment of prisoners, and much swearing +of jurymen, and proclamations about “informing my Lords +Justices and the Queen’s Attorney-General of any crimes, +misdemeanours, felonies, &c., committed <!-- page 123--><a +name="page123"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 123</span>by any of +the prisoners,” and “if anybody could so inform my +Lords Justices,” &c, he was to come forward and do so, +and he would be heard. And then the crowd of prisoners, +except the one about to be tried, were told to stand down. +And down they all swarmed, some laughing and some crying, to the +depths below. And the stout warders took their stand beside +the remaining prisoner.</p> +<p>“Now,” said Mr. O’Rapley, “this Judge +is quite fresh to the work, and I’ll warrant he’ll +take a moral view of the law, which is about the worst view a +Judge <i>can</i> take.”</p> +<p>The man left in the dock was a singular specimen of humanity: +he was a thin, wizen-looking man of about seventy, with a wooden +leg: and as he stood up to plead, leant on two crutches, while +his head shook a good deal, as if he had got the palsy. A +smile went round the bar, and in some places broke out into a +laugh: the situation was, indeed, ridiculous; and before any but +a Chancery Judge, methought, there must be an acquittal on the +view. However, I saw that the man pleaded not guilty, and +then Mr. Makebelieve opened the case for the Crown. He put +it very clearly, and, as he said, fairly before the jury; and +then called a tall, large-boned woman of about forty into the +witness-box. This was the “afflicted widow,” as +Makebelieve had called her; and the way she gave her evidence +made a visible impression on the mind of the learned Judge. +His Lordship looked up occasionally from his note-book and fixed +his eyes on the prisoner, whose appearance was that of one +trembling with a consciousness of guilt—that is, to one not +versed in human nature outside an affidavit.</p> +<p><!-- page 124--><a name="page124"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +124</span>Mr. Nimble, the prisoner’s counsel, asked if the +prisoner might sit down as he was very “infirm.”</p> +<p>“Have you an affidavit of that fact, Mr. Nimble?” +asked the Judge.</p> +<p>“No, my lord; it is not usual on such an application to +have an affidavit.”</p> +<p>“It is not usual,” said his lordship, “to +take notice of any fact not upon affidavit; but in this case the +prisoner may sit down.”</p> +<p>The prosecutrix gave her evidence very flippantly, and did not +seem in the least concerned that her virtue had had so narrow an +escape.</p> +<p>“Now,” asked Mr. Nimble, “what are +you?”</p> +<p>The learned Judge said he could not see what that had to do +with the question. Could Mr. Nimble resist the facts?</p> +<p>“Yes, my lord,” answered the learned counsel; +“and I intend, in the first place, to resist them by +showing that this woman is entirely unworthy of +credit.”</p> +<p>“Are you really going to suggest perjury, Mr. +Nimble?”</p> +<p>“Assuredly, my lord! I am going to show that there +is not a word of truth in this woman’s statement. I +have a right to cross-examine as to her credit. If your +lordship will allow me, I will—”</p> +<p>“Cross-examination, Mr. Nimble, cannot be allowed, in +order to make a witness contradict all that she has said in her +examination-in-chief; it would be a strange state of the law, if +it could.”</p> +<p>Mr. Nimble looked about the desk, and then under it, and felt +in his bag, and at last exclaimed in a somewhat petulant +tone:</p> +<p>“Where’s my Taylor?”</p> +<p><!-- page 125--><a name="page125"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +125</span>“What do you want your tailor for?” asked +the Judge.</p> +<p>“I wish to point out to your lordship that my +proposition is correct, and that I can cross-examine to the +credit of a witness.”</p> +<p>Here the clerk of arraigns, who sat just under the learned +Judge, and was always consulted on matters of practice when there +was any difficulty, was seen whispering to his lordship: after +which his lordship looked very blank and red.</p> +<p>“We always consult him, my lord,” said Mr. Nimble, +with a smile, “in suits at Common Law.”</p> +<p>Everybody tried not to laugh, and everybody failed. Even +the Judge, being a very good-tempered man, laughed too, and +said:</p> +<p>“O yes, Taylor on Evidence, Mr. Nimble.”</p> +<p>At last the book, about the size of a London Directory, was +handed up by a tall man who was Mr. Nimble’s clerk.</p> +<p>“Now, my lord, at page nineteen hundred and seventy-two +your lordship will find that when the credibility of a witness is +attacked—”</p> +<p>Judge: “That will be near the end of the +book.”</p> +<p>Mr. Nimble: “No, my lord, near the beginning.”</p> +<p>“I shall not stop you,” said the learned Judge; +“your question may be put for what it is worth: but now, +suppose in answer to your question she says she is an ironer, +what then?”</p> +<p>“That’s what I am, my lordship,” said the +woman, with an obsequious curtsey.</p> +<p>“There, now you have it,” said the Judge, +“she is an ironer; stop, let me take that down, ‘I am +an ironer.’”</p> +<p>The cross-examination continued, somewhat in an <!-- page +126--><a name="page126"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +126</span>angry tone no doubt, and amid frequent interruptions; +but Mr. Nimble always thumped down the ponderous Taylor upon any +objection of the learned Judge, and crushed it as though it were +a butterfly.</p> +<p>Next the policeman gave his evidence, and was duly +cross-examined. Mr. Nimble called no witnesses; there were +none to call: but addressed the jury in a forcible and eloquent +speech, stigmatizing the charge as an utterly preposterous one, +and dealing with every fact in a straightforward and manly +manner. After he had finished, the jury would undoubtedly +have acquitted; but the learned Judge had to sum up, which in +this, as in many cases at Quarter Sessions, was no more a summing +up than counting ten on your fingers is a summing up. It +was a desultory speech, and if made by the counsel for the +prosecution, would have been a most unfair one for the Crown: +totally ignoring the fact that human nature was subject to +frailties, and testimony liable to be tainted with perjury. +It made so great an impression upon me in my dream that I +transcribed it when I awoke; and this is the manner in which it +dealt with the main points:—</p> +<p>“<span class="smcap">Gentlemen of the Jury</span>,</p> +<p>“This is a case of a very serious character (the nature +of the offence was then read from Roscoe), and I am bound to tell +you that the evidence is all one way: namely, on the side of the +prosecution. There is not a single affidavit to the +contrary. Now what are the facts?”</p> +<p>Mr. Nimble: “Would your lordship pardon me—whether +they are facts or not is for the jury.”</p> +<p>“I am coming to that, Mr. Nimble; unless contradicted +they are facts, or, at least, if you believe them, <!-- page +127--><a name="page127"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +127</span>gentlemen. If the evidence is uncontradicted, +what is the inference? The inference is for you, not for +me; I have simply to state the law: it is for you to find the +facts. You must exercise your common sense: if the prisoner +could have contradicted this evidence, is it reasonable to +suppose he would not have done so with so serious a charge +hanging over his head?”</p> +<p>“My lord, may I ask how could the prisoner have called +evidence? there was no one present.”</p> +<p>“Mr. Nimble,” said his Lordship solemnly, +“he might have shown he was elsewhere.”</p> +<p>“Yes, my lord; but the prisoner admits being present: he +doesn’t set up an <i>alibi</i>.”</p> +<p>“Gentlemen, you hear what the learned counsel says: he +admits that the prisoner was present; that is corroborative of +the story told by the prosecutrix. Now, if you find a +witness speaking truthfully about one part of a transaction, what +are you to infer with regard to the rest? Gentlemen, the +case is for you, and not for me: happily I have not to find the +facts: they are for you—and what are they? This +woman, who is an ironer, was going along a lonely lane, +proceeding to her home, as she states—and again I say there +is no contradiction—and she meets this man; he accosts her, +and then, according to her account, assaults her, and in a manner +which I think leaves no doubt of his intention—but that is +for you. I say he assaults her, if you believe her story: +of course, if you do not believe her story, then in the absence +of corroboration there would be an end of the case. But is +there an absence of corroboration? What do we find, +gentlemen? Now let me read to you the evidence of Police +Constable Swearhard. What does he say? ‘I was +coming along the Lover’s Lane at nine <!-- page 128--><a +name="page128"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +128</span>twenty-five, and I saw two persons, whom I afterwards +found to be the prosecutrix and the prisoner.’ +‘You will mark that, gentlemen, the prisoner himself does +not suggest an <i>alibi</i>, that is to say, that he was +elsewhere, when this event occurred. Then he was upon the +spot: and the policeman tells you—it is for you to say +whether you believe the policeman or not; there is no suggestion +that he is not a witness of truth—and he says that he heard +a scream, and caught the defendant in the act. Now, from +whom did that scream proceed? Not from the prisoner, for it +was the scream of a woman. From whom then could it proceed +but from the prosecutrix? Now, in all cases of this kind, +one very material point has always been relied on by the Judges, +and that point is this: What was the conduct of the woman? +Did she go about her ordinary business as usual, or did she make +a complaint? If she made no complaint, or made it a long +time after, it is some evidence—not conclusive by any +means—but it is some evidence against the truth of her +story. Let us test this case by that theory. What is +the evidence of the policeman? I will read his words: +‘The moment I got up,’ he says, now mark that, +gentlemen, ‘the woman complained of the conduct of the +prisoner: she screamed and threw herself in my arms and then +nearly fainted.’ Gentlemen, what does all that +mean? You will say by your verdict.”</p> +<p>“Consider your verdict,” said the Clerk of +Arraigns, and almost immediately the Jury said: “Guilty of +attempt.”</p> +<p>“Call upon him,” said the Judge: and he was called +upon accordingly, but only said “the prosecutrix was a +well-known bad woman.”</p> +<p>Then the Judge said very solemnly:—</p> +<p>“Prisoner at the bar, you have been convicted upon <!-- +page 129--><a name="page129"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +129</span>the clearest possible evidence of this crime: what you +say about the character of the prosecutrix the more convinces me +that you are a very bad man. You not only assail the virtue +of this woman, but, happily prevented in your design, you +endeavour to destroy it afterwards in this Court. No one +who has heard this case can doubt that you have been guilty of +this very grave offence; and in my judgment that offence is +aggravated by the fact that you committed it against her will and +without her consent. The sentence is that you be sent to +prison for eighteen calendar months.”</p> +<p>“Rather warm,” said Mr. O’Rapley.</p> +<p>“Never heeard such a thing in my life,” said +Master Bumpkin, “she wur a consentin’ party if ever +there wur one.”</p> +<p>“But that makes no difference now-a-days,” said +Mr. O’Rapley. “Chancery Judges studies the +equity of the thing more. But perhaps, Mr. Bumpkin, you +don’t know what that means?”</p> +<p>“No,” said Bumpkin, “I +doan’t.”</p> +<p>“You must be quiet,” said Mr. O’Rapley; +“recollect you are in a Court of Justice.”</p> +<p>“Be I! It ’ud take moore un thic case to +make I believe it; but lookee here: I be hanged if there +ain’t that Snooks feller down along there.”</p> +<p>“Who?” enquired O’Rapley.</p> +<p>“That there feller,” said Bumpkin, “be sure +to find his way where there’s anything gooin on o’ +this ere natur.”</p> +<p>Next an undefended prisoner was placed on trial, and as he was +supposed to know all the law of England, he was treated as if he +did.</p> +<p>“You can’t put that question, you know,” +said the learned Judge; “and now you are making a +statement; <!-- page 130--><a name="page130"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 130</span>it is not time to make your +statement yet; you will have ample opportunity by-and-by in your +speech to the jury.” And afterwards, when the Judge +was summing up, the unhappy prisoner called his lordship’s +attention to a mistake; but he was told that he had had his turn +and had made his speech to the jury, and must not now interrupt +the Court. So he had to be quite silent until he was +convicted. Then the two companions went into another court, +where a very stern-looking Common Law Judge was trying a +ferocious-looking prisoner. And Mr. O’Rapley was +delighted to explain that now his friend would see the +difference. They had entered the court just as the learned +Judge had begun to address the jury; and very careful his +lordship was to explain (not in technical language), but in +homely, common-place and common-sense English, the nature of the +crime with which the prisoner was charged. He was very +careful in explaining this, for fear the jury should improperly +come to the conclusion that, because they might believe the +prisoner had in fact committed the act, he must necessarily be +guilty. And they were told that the act was in that case +only one element of the crime, and that they must ascertain +whether there was the guilty intent or no. Now this old Mr. +Justice Common Sense, I thought, was very well worth listening +to, and I heartily wished Mr. Justice Technical from the Old +Court had been there to take a lesson; and I take the liberty of +setting down what I heard in my dream for the benefit of future +Justices Technical.</p> +<p>His lordship directed the jury’s attention to the +evidence, which he carefully avoided calling facts: not to the +verbatim report of it on his note-book as some Recorders do, and +think when they are reading it over <!-- page 131--><a +name="page131"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 131</span>they are +summing it up; but pointing out statements which, if believed, +become facts and if facts, lead to certain <i>inferences</i> of +guilt or innocence.</p> +<p>It was while the learned Mr. Justice Common Sense was thus +engaged, that the warder in the dock suddenly checked the +prisoner with these words:</p> +<p>“You mustn’t interrupt.”</p> +<p>“Why may he not interrupt?” asks Mr. Justice +Common Sense. “What do you want to say, +prisoner?”</p> +<p>“My lord,” answered the prisoner, “I wanted +to say as how that there witness as your lordship speaks on +didn’t say as he seen me there.”</p> +<p>“O, didn’t he?” said the Judge. +“I thought he did—now let us see,” turning over +his notes. “No, you are quite right, prisoner, he did +not see you at the spot but immediately after.”</p> +<p>Then his lordship proceeded until there was another +interruption of the same character, and the foolish warder again +told the prisoner to be quiet. This brought down Mr. +Justice Common Sense with a vengeance:</p> +<p>“Warder! how dare you stop the prisoner? he is on his +trial and is undefended. Who is to check me if I am +misstating the evidence if he does not? If you dare to +speak like that to him again I will commit you. Prisoner, +interrupt me as often as you think I am not correctly stating the +evidence.”</p> +<p>“Thankee, my lord.”</p> +<p>“That be the sort o’ Judge for me,” said +Bumpkin; “but I’ve ’ad enough on it, Maister +O’Rapley, so if you please, I’ll get back t’ +the ‘Goose.’ Why didn’t that air Judge +try t’other case, I wonder?”</p> +<p>“Because,” replied the Don, “the new system +is to work the ‘Round Square’.”</p> +<h2><!-- page 133--><a name="page133"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 133</span>CHAPTER XV.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Mr. Bumpkin’s experience of London life, +enlarged.</p> +<p>On leaving the Old Bailey the two friends proceeded to a +neighbouring public-house and partook of some light refreshment +at the counter. Now Mr. Bumpkin had never yet examined the +viands displayed on a counter. His idea of refreshment, +when from home, had always been a huge round of beef smoking at +one end of the table and a large leg of mutton smoking at the +other, with sundry dishes of similar pretensions between, and an +immense quantity of vegetables. When, therefore he saw some +stale-looking sandwiches under the ordinary glass cover, he +exclaimed: “Wittals must be mighty scarce to clap ’em +under a glass case.”</p> +<p>“It’s to keep the flies off;” said his +companion.</p> +<p>“They need well keep un off, for there bean’t +enough for a couple if they was ony wise ongry like.”</p> +<p>However, our friends made the best of what there was, and Mr. +O’Rapley, wishing success to his companion, enquired who +was to be his counsel.</p> +<p>“I doan’t rightly know, but I’ll warrant Mr. +Prigg’ll have a good un—he knows what he be about; +and all I hopes is, he’ll rattle it into that there Snooks, +for if ever there wur a bad un it be him.”</p> +<p>“He looks a bad un,” replied O’Rapley. +“When do you think the case is likely to come +on?”</p> +<p><!-- page 134--><a name="page134"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +134</span>“Well, it is supposed as it ull be on to-morrer; +but I bleeve there’s no sartinty about thic. Now +then, just give us a little moore, will ’ee sir?” +(this to the waiter).</p> +<p>“I’ll pay for the next,” said +O’Rapley, feeling in his pocket.</p> +<p>“Noa, noa, I’ll pay; and thankee, sir, for +comin’.”</p> +<p>And then O’Rapley drank his friend’s health again, +and wished further success to the case, and hoped Mr. Bumpkin +would be sure to come to him when he was at Westminster; and +expressed himself desirous to assist his friend in every way that +lay in his power—declaring that he really must be going for +he didn’t know what would happen if the Judge should find +he was away; and was not at all certain it would not lead to some +officious member of the House of Commons asking a question of the +Prime Minister about it.</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin drank his good health, again and again, declaring +he was “mighty proud to have met with un;” and that +when the case was over and he had returned to his farm, he should +be pleased if Mr. O’Rapley would come down and spend a few +days with him. “Nancy,” he said, +“’ll be rare and pleased to see thee. I got as +nice a little farm as any in the county, and as pooty pigs as +thee ever clapped eyes on.”</p> +<p>Mr. O’Rapley, without being too condescending, expressed +himself highly gratified with making Mr. Bumpkin’s +acquaintance, and observed that the finest pigs ever he saw were +those of the Lord Chief Justice.</p> +<p>“Dade, sir, now what sort be they?” Mr. +O’Rapley was not learned in pigs, and not knowing the name +of any breed whatever, was at a loss how to describe them. +Mr. Bumpkin came to his assistance.</p> +<p><!-- page 135--><a name="page135"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +135</span>“Be they smooth like and slim?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said the Don.</p> +<p>“Hardly any hair?”</p> +<p>“Scarce a bit.”</p> +<p>“They be Chichesters then—the werry best breed as +a man ever had in his stye.”</p> +<p>“I never see anything so pretty,” replied Mr. +O’Rapley.</p> +<p>“Ah! and they be the smallest-boned pigs as ever could +be—they bean’t got a bone bigger nor your little +finger.”</p> +<p>“Ha!” said the Don, finishing his glass, +“the smaller the bone the more the meat, that’s what +I always say; and the Lord Chief Justice don’t care for +bone, he likes meat.”</p> +<p>“An’ so do I—the Lud Judge be right, and if +he tries my case he’ll know the difference betwixt thic pig +as Snooks tooked away and one o’ them +there—”</p> +<p>“Jackass-looking pigs,” said O’Rapley, +seeing that his friend paused. “I hate them jackass +pigs.”</p> +<p>“So do I—they never puts on fat.”</p> +<p>“I must go, really,” said O’Rapley. +“What do you make the right time?”</p> +<p>Master Bumpkin pulled out his watch with great effort, and +said it was just a quarter past four by Yokelton time.</p> +<p>“Here’s your good health again, Mr. +Bumpkin.”</p> +<p>“And yours, sir; and now I think on it, if it’s a +fair question Mr. O’Rapley, and I med ax un wirout +contempt, when do you think this ’ere case o’ mine be +likely to come on, for you ought to know summut about +un?”</p> +<p>“Ha!” said the Don, partially closing one eye, and +looking profoundly into the glass as though he were <!-- page +136--><a name="page136"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +136</span>divining the future, “law, sir, is a mystery and +judges is a mystery; masters is a mystery and ’sociates is +a mystery; ushers is a mystery and counsel is a +mystery;—the whole of life (here he tipped the contents of +the glass down his throat) is a mystery.”</p> +<p>“So it be,” said Mr. Bumpkin, drawing the back of +his hand across his mouth. “So it be sir, but do +’ee think—”</p> +<p>“Well, really,” answered the Don, “I should +say in about a couple of years if you ask me.”</p> +<p>“How the h—”</p> +<p>“Excuse me, Master Bumpkin, but contempt follers us like +a shadder: if you had said that to a Judge it would have been a +year at least: it’s three months as it is if I liked to go +on with the case; but I’m not a wicious man, I +hope.”</p> +<p>“I didn’t mean no offence,” said the +farmer.</p> +<p>“No, no, I dare say not; but still there is a way of +doing things. Now if you had said to me, ‘Mr. +O’Rapley, you are a gentleman moving in judicial circles, +and are probably acquainted with the windings of the,’ +&c. &c. &c. ‘Can you inform me why my +case is being so unduly prolonged?’ Now if you had +put your question in that form I should in all probability have +answered: ‘I do not see that it is unduly prolonged, Master +Bumpkin—you must have patience. Judges are but human +and it’s a wonder to me they are as much as that, +seein’ what they have to go through.’”</p> +<p>“But if there be a Court why can’t us get in and +try un, Mr. Rapley?”</p> +<p>“Ah, now that is putting it pointedly;” and +O’Rapley closed one eye and looked into his tumbler with +the other before he answered:</p> +<p>“You see this is how it goes under the continerous <!-- +page 137--><a name="page137"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +137</span>sittings—off and on we sits continerously at Nisy +Prisy in London three months in the year. Now that +ain’t bad for London: but it’s nothing near so much +time as they gives to places like Aylesbury, Bedford, and many +others.”</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin looked like a terrier dog watching a hole out of +which he expected a rat: at present he saw no sign of one.</p> +<p>“Take Aylesbury; well now, if a Judge went there once in +seven years he’d find about every other assize enough work +to last him till lunch. But in course two Judges must go to +Aylesbury four times a year, to do nothing but admire the +building where the Courts are held; otherwise you’d soon +have Aylesbury marching on to London to know the reason +why. P’r’aps the Judges have left five hundred +cases untried in London to go to this Aylesbury.”</p> +<p>“Be it a big plaace, sir?”</p> +<p>“Not so big as a good-sized hotel,” said the +Don. “Then,” he continued, “there’s +Bedford ditto again—septennel would do for that; then comes +Northampton—they don’t want no law there at +all.” (I leave the obvious pun to anyone who likes to +make it). “Then Okeham again—did you ever hear +of anyone who came from Okeham? I never did.”</p> +<p>The Don paused, as though on the answer to this question +depended his future course.</p> +<p>“Noa,” said Bumpkin, “can’t rightly +say as ever I did.”</p> +<p>“And nobody ever did come from there except the +Judges. Well, to Okeham they go four times a year, whereas +if they was to go about once in every hundred years it +wouldn’t pay. Why raly, Mr. Bumpkin, the Judges goes +round like travellers arfter orders, and can’t <!-- page +138--><a name="page138"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +138</span>get none. I’m not talkin’, as you are +aware, about great centres like Liverpool, where if they had +about fifty-two assizes in the year it wouldn’t be one too +many; but I’m talking about circumfrences on the confines +of civilization.”</p> +<p>“Oh dear!” sighed Bumpkin. The hole seemed +to him too choked up with “larnin’” for the rat +ever to come out—he could glean nothing from this highly +wrought and highly polished enthusiasm.</p> +<p>“And, notwithstanding and accordingly,” continued +the Don, “they do say, goodness knows how true it is, that +they’re going to have two more assizes in the year. +All that I can say is, Mr. Bumpkin—and, mark my words, +there’ll be no stopping in London at all, but it will be +just a reg’ler Judge’s merry-go-round.” +<a name="citation138"></a><a href="#footnote138" +class="citation">[138]</a></p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin dropped a look into his glass, and the two +companions came out of the door and proceeded along under the +archway until they came to the corner of Bridge Street, +Blackfriars. Exactly at that point a young woman with a +baby in her arms came in contact with Mr. Bumpkin, and in a very +angry tone said,—</p> +<p>“I tell you what it is, don’t you take them +liberties with me or I’ll give you in charge.”</p> +<p>And the young woman passed on with her baby. <!-- page +139--><a name="page139"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +139</span>Just at that moment, and while Master Bumpkin was +meditating on this strange conduct of the young female, he felt a +smart tug at his watch, and, looking down, saw the broken chain +hanging from his pocket.</p> +<p>“Zounds!” he exclaimed, “I never zeed +anything claner than thic; did thee zee thic feller?”</p> +<p>“There he goes,” said O’Rapley.</p> +<p>“There ur gooes,” said Mr. Bumpkin, and, as fast +as he could, pursued the thief.</p> +<p>“Stop un!” he cried. “Stop thic there +thief; he got my watch.”</p> +<p>But it was a long time before Master Bumpkin’s mandate +was obeyed; the value of a policeman, like that of every other +commodity, depends upon his rarity. There was no policeman +to be found. There was a fire escape in the middle of the +street, but that was of no use to Master Bumpkin. Away went +thief, and away went Bumpkin, who could “foot it,” as +he said, “pooty well, old as he wur.” Nor did +either the thief or himself stop until they got nearly to the +bridge, when, to Bumpkin’s great astonishment, up came the +thief, walking coolly towards him. This was another +mystery, in addition to those mentioned by Mr. +O’Rapley. But the fact was, that the hue and cry was +now raised, and although Master Bumpkin did not perceive it, +about a hundred people, men, women, and boys, were in full chase; +and when that gentleman was, as Bumpkin thought, coolly coming +towards him, he was simply at bay, run down, without hope of +escape; and fully determined to face the matter out with all the +coolness he could command.</p> +<p>“Take un,” said Bumpkin; “take un oop; thee +dam scoundrel!”</p> +<p><!-- page 140--><a name="page140"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +140</span>“Take care what you’re saying,” said +the thief. “I’m a respectable man, and +there’s law in the land.”</p> +<p>“Yes, and thee shall have un, too, thee willin; thee +stole my watch, thee knows that.”</p> +<p>“You’re a liar,” said the captive.</p> +<p>“Why thee’s got un on, dang if thee bean’t, +and a wearin’ on un. Well, this bates all; take un +oop, pleeceman.”</p> +<p>At this moment, which is always the nick of time chosen by the +force, that is to say, when everything is done except the +handcuffs, a policeman with a great deal of authority in his +appearance came up, and plunged his hands under his heavy +coat-tails, as though he were about to deliver them of the bower +anchor of a ship.</p> +<p>“Do you give him in charge?”</p> +<p>“Sure enough do ur,” said Mr. Bumpkin.</p> +<p>So the handcuffs were put on, and the stalwart policeman, like +a hero with the captive of his bow and spear, marched him along +at a great rate, Bumpkin striding out manfully at the side, amid +a great crowd of small boys, with all their heads turned towards +the prisoner as they ran, in the highest state of delight and +excitement. Even Bumpkin looked as if he had made a good +thing of it, and seemed as pleased as the boys.</p> +<p>As they came again to the corner of Ludgate Hill, there stood +Mr. O’Rapley, looking very pompous and dignified, as became +so great a man.</p> +<p>“You’ve got him then,” said he.</p> +<p>“Ay; come on, Master Rapley, come on.”</p> +<p>“One moment,” said the official; “I must +here leave you for the present, Mr. Bumpkin; we are not allowed +to give evidence in Criminal Courts any more than Her +Majesty’s Judges themselves; we are a part of the +Court. <!-- page 141--><a name="page141"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 141</span>But, besides all that, I did not see +what happened; what was it?”</p> +<p>“Well,” said Mr. Bumpkin, “that be rum too, +sir; thee see thic feller steal my watch, surely.”</p> +<p>“Indeed, Mr. Bumpkin, it was so quickly done that I +really did <i>not</i> see it, if you ask me.”</p> +<p>“Why, he dragged un out o’ thic pocket.”</p> +<p>“No doubt, Master Bumpkin; but it does not follow that I +see it.”</p> +<p>“Thee can come and say I wur with thee, +anyhow.”</p> +<p>“I can’t give evidence, Mr. Bumpkin, as I told you +before; and, besides, I must not appear in this matter at +all. You know I was absent to oblige you, and it’s +possible I may be of some further service to you yet; but please +don’t mention me in this matter. I assure you it will +do harm, and perhaps I should lose my place.”</p> +<p>“Well, Master Rapley,” said Bumpkin, taking his +hand, “I won’t do thee no harm if I knows it, and +there be plenty of evidence.”</p> +<p>“Evidence! You say you found the watch upon +him?”</p> +<p>“Sartinly.”</p> +<p>“The case then is clear. You don’t want any +evidence besides that.”</p> +<p>“Well, sir, you’re a man o’ +larnin’. I bean’t much of a scollard, +I’ll tak’ thy advice; but I must get along; they be +waitin’ for I.”</p> +<p>“I will see you at Westminster to-morrow, Mr. +Bumpkin.”</p> +<p>“All right, zir, all right.”</p> +<p>And with that Mr. O’Rapley proceeded on his way down +Fleet Street, and Mr. Bumpkin proceeded on his up Ludgate Hill in +the midst of an excited crowd.</p> +<h2><!-- page 143--><a name="page143"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 143</span>CHAPTER XVI.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">The coarse mode of procedure in Ahab <i>v.</i> +Naboth ruthlessly exposed and carefully contrasted with the +humane and enlightened form of the present day.</p> +<p>Here I awoke, and my wife said unto me, “Dear, you have +been dreaming and talking in your sleep.”</p> +<p>Now fearing for what I may have said, although of a tolerably +clear conscience, I enquired if she could tell me what words I +had uttered. She replied that I had mentioned the names of +many eminent men: such as Mr. Justice Common Sense.</p> +<p>“Indeed,” quoth I; and then I told my dream. +Upon which she observed, that it seemed there must be much +exaggeration. To this I made answer that dreams do +generally magnify events, and impress them more vividly upon the +senses, inasmuch as the imagination was like a microscope: it +enabled you to see many things which would escape the naked +eye.</p> +<p>“But,” said my partner, “if they are +distorted?”</p> +<p>“If they are distorted, they are not reliable; but a +clear imagination, like a good lens, faithfully presents its +objects, although in a larger form, in order that those who have +no time for scientific observation, may see what the scientist +desires to direct their attention to. There are creatures +almost invisible to the naked eye, which, <!-- page 144--><a +name="page144"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +144</span>nevertheless, cause great irritation to the +nerves. So, also, there are matters affecting the body +corporate of these kingdoms which the public are blind to and +suffer from, but which, if thoroughly exposed, they may be +inclined to take a hand in removing.”</p> +<p>“I don’t believe that Mr. O’Rapley,” +said she: “he seems a cantankerous, conceited +fellow.”</p> +<p>“Why so he is; but cantankerous and conceited fellows +sometimes speak the truth. They’re like those +cobwebbed, unwholesome-looking bottles which have lain a long +time in cellars. You would hardly like to come in contact +with them, and yet they often contain a clear and beautiful +wine. This Mr. O’Rapley is a worthy man who knows a +great deal, and although a bit of a toady to his superiors, +expresses his opinions pretty freely behind their +backs.”</p> +<p>“And what of this Master Bumpkin—this worthy +Master Bumpkin I hear you speak of so often?”</p> +<p>“A very shrewd man in some respects and a silly one in +others.”</p> +<p>“Not an unusual combination.”</p> +<p>“By no means.”</p> +<p>And then I told her what I have already related; to which she +observed it was a pity some friend had not interposed and stopped +the business. I answered, that friends were no doubt +useful, but friends or no friends we must have law, and whether +for sixpence or a shilling it ought to be readily attainable: +that no one would be satisfied with having no other authority +than that of friendship to settle our disputes; and besides that, +friends themselves sometimes fell out and were generally the most +hard to reconcile without an appeal to our tribunals.</p> +<p><!-- page 145--><a name="page145"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +145</span>“Well, it does seem a pity,” said she, +“that judges cannot sit as they did in Moses’ time at +all seasons so as to decide expeditiously and promptly between +the claims of parties.”</p> +<p>“Why so they do sit ‘continuously,’” +quoth I, “but the whole difficulty consists in getting at +them. What is called procedure is so circuitous and +perplexing, that long before you get to your journey’s end +you may faint by the way.”</p> +<p>“Is there no one with good sense who will take this +matter up and help this poor man to come by his rights. It +must be very expensive for him to be kept away from his business +so long, and his poor wife left all alone to manage the +farm.”</p> +<p>“Why, so it is, but then going to law, which means +seeking to maintain your rights, is a very expensive thing: a +luxury fit only for rich men.”</p> +<p>“Why then do people in moderate circumstances indulge in +it?”</p> +<p>“Because they are obliged to defend themselves against +oppressive and unjust demands; although I think, under the +present system, if a man had a small estate, say a few acres, and +a rich man laid claim to it, it would be far better for the small +man to give up the land without any bother.”</p> +<p>“But no man of spirit would do that?”</p> +<p>“No, that is exactly where it is, it’s the spirit +of resistance that comes in.”</p> +<p>“Resistance! a man would be a coward to yield without a +fight.”</p> +<p>“Why so he would, and that is what makes law such a +beautiful science, and its administration so costly. Men +will fight to the last rather than give in. If Naboth had +lived in these times there would have been no need <!-- page +146--><a name="page146"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 146</span>of +his death in order to oust him from his vineyard. Ahab +could have done a much more sensible thing and walked in by +process of law.”</p> +<p>“In what way?”</p> +<p>“In the first place he could have laid claim to a right +of way, or easement as it is called, of some sort: or could have +alleged that Naboth had encroached on his land by means of a +fence or drain or ditch.”</p> +<p>“Well, but if he hadn’t?”</p> +<p>“If he hadn’t, so much the better for the +Plaintiff, and so much the worse for Naboth.”</p> +<p>“I don’t understand; if Naboth had done no wrong, +surely it would be far better for him than if he had.”</p> +<p>“Not in the long run, my dear: and for this reason, if +he had encroached it would have taken very little trouble to +ascertain the fact, and Naboth being a just and honest man, would +only require to have it pointed out to him to remedy the +evil. Maps and plans of the estate would doubtless have +shown him his mistake, and, like a wise man, he would have +avoided going to law.”</p> +<p>“I see clearly that the good man would have said, +‘Neighbour Ahab, we have been on neighbourly terms for a +long lime, and I do not wish in any way to alter that excellent +feeling which has always subsisted between us. I see +clearly by these maps and plans which worthy Master Metefield +hath shown me that my hedge hath encroached some six inches upon +thy domain, wherefore, Neighbour Ahab, take, I pray thee, as much +of the land as belongeth unto thee, according to just +admeasurement.”</p> +<p>“Why certainly, so would the honest Naboth have communed +with Ahab, and there would have been an end of the +business.”</p> +<p><!-- page 147--><a name="page147"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +147</span>“But show me, darling, how being in the wrong was +better for good Naboth than being in the right in this +business?”</p> +<p>“Most willingly,” said I; “you see, my dear, +there was quickly an end of the matter by Naboth yielding to the +just demands of neighbour Ahab. But now let us suppose +honest Naboth in the right concerning his vineyard, and neighbour +Ahab to be making an unjust demand. You have already most +justly observed that in that case it would be cowardly on the +part of Naboth to yield without a struggle?”</p> +<p>“Assuredly.”</p> +<p>“Well then, that means a lawsuit.”</p> +<p>“But surely,” said my wife, “it ought to be +soon seen who is in the wrong. Where is Master Metefield +who you said just now was so accurate a surveyor, and where are +those plans you spoke of which showed the situation of the +estates?”</p> +<p>“Ah, my dear, I see you know very little of the +intricacies of the law; that good Master Metefield, instead of +being a kind of judge to determine quickly as he did for Master +Naboth what were the boundaries of the vineyard, hath not now so +easy a task of it, because Ahab being in the wrong he is not +accepted by him as his judge.”</p> +<p>“But if the plans are correct, how can he alter +them?”</p> +<p>“He cannot alter them, but the question of correctness +of boundary as shown, is matter of disputation, and will have to +be discussed by surveyors on both sides, and supported and +disputed by witnesses innumerable on both sides: old men coming +up with ancient memories, hedgers and ditchers, farmers and +bailiffs and people of all <!-- page 148--><a +name="page148"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 148</span>sorts and +conditions, to prove and disprove where the boundary line really +divides Neighbour Naboth’s vineyard from Neighbour +Ahab’s park.”</p> +<p>“But surely Naboth will win?”</p> +<p>“All that depends upon a variety of things, such as, +first, the witnesses; secondly, the counsel; thirdly, the judge; +fourthly, the jury,”</p> +<p>“O,” said my wife, “pray don’t go on +to a fifthly—it seems to me poor Naboth is like to have a +sorry time of it before he establish his boundary +line.”</p> +<p>“Ay, if he ever do so: but he first is got into the +hands of his Lawyers, next into the hands of his Counsel, +thirdly, into Chancery, fourthly, into debt—”</p> +<p>“Pray, do not let us have a fifthly here either; I like +not these thirdlys and fourthlys, for they seem to bring poor +Naboth into bad case; but what said you about debt?”</p> +<p>“I say that Naboth, not being a wealthy man, but, as I +take it, somewhat in the position of neighbour Bumpkin, will soon +be forced to part with a good deal of his little property in +order to carry on the action.”</p> +<p>“But will not the action be tried in a reasonable time, +say a week or two?”</p> +<p>“I perceive,” cried I, “that you are yet in +the very springtide and babyhood of innocence in these +matters. There must be summonses for time and for further +time; there must be particulars and interrogatories and +discoveries and inspections and strikings out and puttings in and +appeals and demurrers and references and—”</p> +<p>“O, please don’t. I perceive that poor +Naboth is already ruined a long way back. I think when you +came to the interrogatories he was in want of funds to carry on +the action.”</p> +<p><!-- page 149--><a name="page149"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +149</span>“A Chancery action sometimes takes years,” +said I.</p> +<p>“Years! then shame to our Parliament.”</p> +<p>“I pray you do not take on so,” said I. +“Naboth, according to the decree of Fate, is to be +ruined. Jezebel did it in a wicked, clumsy and brutal +manner. Anyone could see she was wrong, and her name has +been handed down to us with infamy and execration. I now +desire to show how Ahab could have accomplished his purpose in a +gentle, manly and scientific manner and saved his wife’s +reputation. Naboth’s action, carried as it would be +from Court to Court upon every possible point upon which an +appeal can go, under our present system, would effectually ruin +him ages before the boundary line could be settled. It +would be all swallowed up in costs.”</p> +<p>“Poor Naboth!” said my wife.</p> +<p>“And,” continued I, “the law reports would +hand down the <i>cause celebre</i> of <i>Ahab</i> v. +<i>Naboth</i> as a most interesting leading case upon the subject +of goodness knows what: perhaps as to whether a man, under +certain circumstances, may not alter his neighbour’s +landmark in spite of the statute law of Moses.”</p> +<p>“And so you think poor Naboth would be sold +up?”</p> +<p>“That were about the only certain event in his case, +except that Ahab would take possession and so put an end for ever +to the question as to where the boundary line should +run.”</p> +<p>Here again I dozed.</p> +<h2><!-- page 151--><a name="page151"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 151</span>CHAPTER XVII.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Shewing that lay tribunals are not exactly +Punch and Judy shows where the puppet is moved by the man +underneath.</p> +<p>It was particularly fortunate for Mr. Bumpkin that his case +was not in the list of causes to be tried on the following +day. It may seem a curious circumstance to the general +reader that a great case like <i>Bumpkin</i> v. <i>Snooks</i>, +involving so much expense of time, trouble, and money should be +in the list one day and out the next; should be sometimes in the +list of one Court and sometimes in the list of another; flying +about like a butterfly from flower to flower and caught by no one +on the look-out for it. But this is not a phenomenon in our +method of procedure, which startles you from time to time with +its miraculous effects. You can calculate upon nothing in +the system but its uncertainty. Most gentle and innocent +reader, I saw that there was no Nisi Prius Court to sit on the +following day, so <i>Bumpkin</i> v. <i>Snooks</i> could not be +taken, list or no list. The lucky Plaintiff therefore found +himself at liberty to appear before that August Tribunal which +sits at the Mansion House in the City of London. A palatial +and imposing building it was on the outside, but within, so far +as was apparent to me, it was a narrow ill ventilated den, full +of all unclean people and unpleasant smells. I say full of +<!-- page 152--><a name="page152"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +152</span>unclean people, but I allude merely to that portion of +it which was appropriated to the British Public; for, exalted on +a high bench and in a huge and ponderous chair or throne sat the +Prince of Citizens and the King of the Corporation, proud in his +dignity, grand in his commercial position, and highly esteemed in +the opinion of the world. There he sat, the representative +of the Criminal Law, and impartial, as all will allow, in its +administration. Wonderful being is my Lord Mayor, thought +I, he must have the Law at his fingers’ ends. Yes, +there it is sitting under him in the shape and person of his +truly respectable clerk. The Common Law resides in the +breasts of the Judges, but it is here at my Lord Mayor’s +fingers’ ends. He has to deal with gigantic +commercial frauds; with petty swindlers, common thieves; mighty +combinations of conspirators; with extradition laws; with +elaborate bankruptcy delinquencies; with the niceties of the +criminal law in every form and shape. Surely, thought I, he +should be one of those tremendous geniuses who can learn the +criminal law before breakfast, or at least before dinner! +So he was. His lordship seemed to have learned it one +morning before he was awake. But it is not for me to +criticise tribunals or men: I have the simple duty to perform of +relating the story of the renowned Mr. Bumpkin.</p> +<p>After the night charges are disposed of up comes the man +through the floor, not Mr. Bumpkin, but Mr. Bumpkin’s +prisoner. He comes up through the floor like the imp in the +pantomime: and then the two tall warders prevent his going any +farther.</p> +<p>He was a pale, intelligent looking creature, fairly dressed in +frock coat, dark waistcoat and grey trousers, with a glove on his +left hand and another in his right; <!-- page 153--><a +name="page153"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 153</span>looked +meekly and modestly round, and then politely bowed to the Lord +Mayor. The charge was then read to him and with a smile he +indignantly repudiated the idea of theft.</p> +<p>And I saw in my dream that he was represented by a learned +Counsel, who at this moment entered the Court, shook hands with +the Lord Mayor, and saying, “I appear, my lord, for the +prisoner,” took his seat upon the bench, and entered for a +minute or so into some private and apparently jocular +conversation with his Lordship.</p> +<p>The name of the learned Counsel was Mr. Nimble, whom we have +before seen. He was a very goodly-shaped man, with a thin +face and brown hair. His eyes were bright, and always +seemed to look into a witness rather than at him. His +manner was jaunty, good-natured, easy, and gay; not remarkable +for courtesy, but at the same time, not unpleasantly rude. +I thought the learned Counsel could be disagreeable if he liked, +but might be a very pleasant, sociable fellow to spend an hour +with—not in the witness-box.</p> +<p>He was certainly a skilful and far-seeing Counsel, if I may +make so bold as to judge from this case. And methought that +nothing he did or said was said or done without a purpose. +Nor could I help thinking that a good many Counsel, young and +old, if their minds were free from prejudice, might learn many +lessons from this case. It is with this object that, in my +waking moments, I record the impressions of this dream. I +do not say Mr. Nimble was an example to follow on all points, for +he had that common failing of humanity, a want of absolute +perfection. But he was as near to perfection in defending a +prisoner as any man I ever saw, and the proceedings in <!-- page +154--><a name="page154"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +154</span>this very case, if carefully analysed, will go a long +way towards proving that assertion.</p> +<p>After the interchange of courtesies between his Lordship and +Mr. Nimble, the learned Counsel looked down from the Bench on to +the top of Mr. Keepimstraight’s bald head and nodded as if +he were patting it. Mr. Keepimstraight was the Lord +Mayor’s Clerk. He was very stout and seemed puffed up +with law: had an immense regard for himself and consequently very +little for anybody else: but that, so far as I have been able to +ascertain, is a somewhat common failing among official +personages. He ordered everybody about except the Lord +Mayor, and him he seemed to push about as though he were wheeling +him in a legal Bath-chair. His Lordship was indeed a great +invalid in respect to matters of law; I think he had overdone it, +if I may use the expression; his study must have been tremendous +to have acquired a knowledge of the laws of England in so short a +time. But being somewhat feeble, and in his modesty much +misdoubting his own judgment, he did nothing and said nothing, +except it was prescribed by his physician, Dr. +Keepimstraight. Even the solicitors stood in awe of Dr. +Keepimstraight.</p> +<p>And now we are all going to begin—Walk up!</p> +<p>The intelligent and decent-looking prisoner having been told +what the charge against him was, namely, Highway Robbery with +violence, declares that he is as “innercent as the unborn +babe, your lordship:” and then Mr. Keepimstraight asks, +where the Prosecutor is—“Prosecutor!” shout a +dozen voices at once—all round, everywhere is the cry of +“Prosecutor!” There was no answer, but in the +midst of the unsavoury crowd there was seen to be a severe +scuffle—whether it was a fight or <!-- page 155--><a +name="page155"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 155</span>a man in a +fit could not be ascertained for some time; at length Mr. Bumpkin +was observed struggling and tearing to escape from the +throng.</p> +<p>“Why don’t you come when you are called?” +asks the Junior Clerk, handing him the Testament, as Mr. Bumpkin +stood revealed in the witness-box.</p> +<p>And I saw that he was dressed in a light frock, not unlike a +pinafore, which was tastefully wrought with divers patterns of +needlework on the front and back thereof; at the openings thus +embroidered could be seen a waistcoat of many stripes, that +crossed and recrossed one another at various angles and were +formed of several colours. He wore a high calico shirt +collar, which on either side came close under the ear; and round +his neck a red handkerchief with yellow ends. His linen +certainly did credit to Mrs. Bumpkin’s love of +“tidiness,” and altogether the prosecutor wore a +clean and respectable appearance. His face was broad, round +and red, indicating a jovial disposition and a temperament not +easily disturbed, except when “whate” was down too +low to sell and he wanted to buy stock or pay the rent: a state +of circumstances which I believe has sometimes happened of late +years. A white short-clipped beard covered his chin, while +his cheeks were closely shaven. He had twinkling oval eyes, +which I should say, he invariably half-closed when he was making +a bargain. If you offered less than his price the first +refusal would come from them. His nose was inexpressive and +appeared to have been a dormant feature for many a year. It +said nothing for or against any thing or any body, and from its +tip sprouted a few white hairs. His mouth, without +utterance, said plainly enough that he owed “nobody +nothink” and was a thousand pound man every morning <!-- +page 156--><a name="page156"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +156</span>he rose. It was a mouth of good bore, and not by +any means intended for a silver spoon.</p> +<p>Such was the Prosecutor as he stood in the witness-box at the +Mansion House on this memorable occasion; and no one could doubt +that truth and justice would prevail.</p> +<p>“Name?” said Mr. Keepimstraight.</p> +<p>“Bumpkin.”</p> +<p>Down it goes.</p> +<p>“Where?”</p> +<p>After a pause, which Mr. Nimble makes a note of.</p> +<p>“Where?” repeats Keepimstraight.</p> +<p>“Westminister.”</p> +<p>“Where there?”</p> +<p>“‘Goose’ publichouse.”</p> +<p>Down it goes.</p> +<p>“Yes?” says Keepimstraight.</p> +<p>Bumpkin stares.</p> +<p>“Yes, go on,” says the clerk.</p> +<p>“Go on,” says the crier; “go on,” say +half-a-dozen voices all round.</p> +<p>“Can’t you go on?” says the clerk.</p> +<p>“Tell your story,” says his Lordship, putting his +arms on the elbows of the huge chair. “Tell it in +your own way, my man.”</p> +<p>“I wur gwine down thic place when—” +“my man” began.</p> +<p>“What time was this?” asks the clerk.</p> +<p>“Arf arter four, as near as I can tell.”</p> +<p>“How do you know?” asks the clerk.</p> +<p>“I heard—”</p> +<p>“I object,” says the +Counsel—“can’t tell us what he +heard.”</p> +<p>Then I perceived that the Lord Mayor leant forward <!-- page +157--><a name="page157"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +157</span>towards Mr. Keepimstraight, and the latter gentleman +turned his head and leaned towards the Lord Mayor, so that his +Lordship could obtain a full view of Mr. Keepimstraight’s +eyes.</p> +<p>Then I perceived that Mr. Keepimstraight winked his left eye +and immediately turned to his work again, and his Lordship +said:</p> +<p>“I don’t think what you heard, witness, is +evidence.”</p> +<p>“Can’t have that,” said Mr. Keepimstraight, +as though he took his instructions and the Law from his +Lordship.</p> +<p>“You said it was half-past four.”</p> +<p>“Heard the clock strike th’ arf hour.”</p> +<p>Here his Lordship leant again forward and Mr. Keepimstraight +turned round so as to bring his eyes into the same position as +heretofore. And I perceived that Mr. Keepimstraight winked +his right eye, upon which his Lordship said:</p> +<p>“I think that’s evidence.”</p> +<p>Clerk whispered, behind his hand, “Can hardly exclude +that.”</p> +<p>“Can hardly exclude that,” repeats his Lordship; +then—turning to the Learned +Counsel—“Can’t shut that out, Mr. +Nimble.”</p> +<p>“You seldom can shut a church clock out, my Lord,” +replies the Counsel.</p> +<p>At this answer his Lordship smiled and the Court was convulsed +with laughter for several minutes.</p> +<p>“Now, then,” said Mr. Keepimstraight, “we +must have order in Court.”</p> +<p>“We must have order in Court,” says his +Lordship.</p> +<p>“Order in Court,” says the Junior Clerk, and +“Order!” shouts the Policeman on duty.</p> +<p>Then Mr. Bumpkin stated in clear and intelligible <!-- page +158--><a name="page158"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +158</span>language how the man came up and took his watch and ran +away. Foolishly enough he said nothing about the woman with +the baby, and wisely enough Mr. Nimble asked nothing about +it. But what an opportunity this would have been for an +unskilful Counsel to lay the foundation for a conviction. +Knowing, as he probably would from the prisoner but from no other +possible source about the circumstance, he might have shown by a +question or two that it was a conspiracy between the prisoner and +the young woman. Not so Mr. Nimble, he knew how to make an +investment of this circumstance for future profit: indeed Mr. +Bumpkin had invested it for him by not mentioning it. +Beautiful is Advocacy if you do not mar it by unskilful +handling.</p> +<p>When, after describing the robbery, the prosecutor +continued:</p> +<p>“I ses to my companion, ses I—”</p> +<p>“I object,” says Mr. Nimble.</p> +<p>And I perceived that his Lordship leant forward once more +towards Mr. Keepimstraight, and Mr. Keepimstraight turned as +aforetime towards the Lord Mayor, but not quite, I thought, so +fully round as heretofore; the motion seemed to be performed with +less exactness than usual, and that probably was why the +operation miscarried. Mr. Keepimstraight having given the +correct signal, as he thought, and the Enginedriver on the Bench +having misunderstood it, an accident naturally would have taken +place but for the extreme caution and care of his Lordship, who, +if he had been a young Enginedriver, would in all probability +have dashed on neck or nothing through every obstacle. Not +so his Lordship. Not being sure whether he was on the up or +down line, he pulled up.</p> +<p><!-- page 159--><a name="page159"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +159</span>Mr. Keepimstraight sat pen in hand looking at his +paper, and waiting for the judicial voice which should convey to +his ear the announcement that “I ses, ses I,” is +evidence or no evidence. Judge then of Mr. +Keepimstraight’s disappointment when, after waiting in +breathless silence for some five minutes, he at last looks up and +sees his Lordship in deep anxiety to catch his eye without the +public observing it. His Lordship leant forward, blushing +with innocence, and whispered something behind his hand to Mr. +Keepimstraight. And in my dream I heard his Lordship +ask:</p> +<p>“<i>Which eye</i>?”</p> +<p>To which Mr. Keepimstraight as coolly as if nothing had +happened, whispered behind his hand:</p> +<p>“<i>Left</i>!” and then coughed.</p> +<p>“O then,” exclaimed his Lordship, “it is +clearly not evidence.”</p> +<p>“It’s not evidence,” repeated the clerk; and +then to the discomfiture of Mr. Nimble, he went on, “You +say you had a companion.”</p> +<p>This was more than the learned Counsel wanted, seeing as he +did that there was another investment to be made if he could only +manage it.</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin blushed now, but said nothing.</p> +<p>“Would you excuse me,” said Mr. Nimble; “I +shall not cross-examine this witness.”</p> +<p>“O, very good,” says Keepimstraight, thinking +probably it was to be a plea of guilty hereafter; “very +good. Then I think that is all—is that the +watch?”</p> +<p>“It be,” said the witness; “I ken swear to +un.”</p> +<p>It certainly would be from no want of metal if Mr. Bumpkin +could not identify the timepiece, for it was a ponderous-looking +watch, nearly as large as a tea-saucer.</p> +<p><!-- page 160--><a name="page160"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +160</span>Then said Mr. Nimble:</p> +<p>“You say that is your watch, do you?”</p> +<p>“It spakes for itself.”</p> +<p>“I don’t think that’s evidence,” says +Mr. Keepimstraight, with a smile.</p> +<p>“That’s clearly not evidence,” says the Lord +Mayor, gravely. Whereupon there was another burst of +laughter, in which the clerk seemed to take the lead. The +remarkable fact, however, was, that his Lordship was perfectly at +a loss to comprehend the joke. He was “as grave as a +Judge.”</p> +<p>After the laughter had subsided, the learned Keepimstraight +leaned backward, and the learned Lord Mayor leaned forward, and +it seemed to me they were conversing together about the cause of +the laughter; for suddenly a smile illuminated the rubicund face +of the cheery Lord Mayor, and at last he had a laugh to +himself—a solo, after the band had ceased. And then +his Lordship spoke:</p> +<p>“What your watch may say is not evidence, because it has +not been sworn.”</p> +<p>Then the band struck up again to a lively tune, his Lordship +playing the first Fiddle; and the whole scene terminated in the +most humorous and satisfactory manner for all +parties—<i>except</i>, perhaps, the prisoner—who was +duly committed for trial to the next sittings of the Central +Criminal Court, which were to take place in a fortnight.</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin naturally asked for his watch, but that request +was smilingly refused.</p> +<p>“Bin in our famly forty years,” exclaimed the +prisoner.</p> +<p>“Will you be quiet?” said Mr. Nimble petulantly, +for it was a foolish observation for the prisoner to make, +inasmuch <!-- page 161--><a name="page161"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 161</span>as, if Mr. Bumpkin had been +represented by professional skill, the remark would surely be met +at the trial with abundant evidence to disprove it. Mr. +Bumpkin at present, however, has no professional skill.</p> +<p style="text-align: center">* * * * *</p> +<p>Here something disturbed me, and I awoke. While +preparing to enjoy my pipe as was my custom in these intervals, +my wife remarked:</p> +<p>“I do not approve of that Master O’Rapley by any +means, with his cynicisms and sarcasms and round squares. +Did ever anyone hear of such a contradiction?”</p> +<p>“Have patience,” quoth I, “and we shall see +how worthy Master O’Rapley makes it out. I conjecture +that he means the same thing that we hear of under the term, +‘putting the round peg into the square +hole.’”</p> +<p>“But why should such a thing be done when it is easy +surely to find a square peg that would fit?”</p> +<p>“Granted; but the master-hand may be under obligations +to the round peg; or the round peg may be a disagreeable peg, or +a hundred things: one doesn’t know. I am but a humble +observer of human nature, and like not these ungracious +cavillings at Master O’Rapley. Let us calmly follow +this dream, and endeavour to profit by its lessons without +finding fault with its actors.”</p> +<p>“But I would like to have a better explanation of that +Round Square, nevertheless,” muttered my wife as she went +on with her knitting. So to appease her I discoursed as +follows:—</p> +<p>“The round square,” said I, “means the +inappropriate combination of opposites.”</p> +<p>“Now, not too long words,” said she, “and +not too much philosophy.”</p> +<p>“Very well, my dear,” I continued; “Don +O’Rapley <!-- page 162--><a name="page162"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 162</span>is right, not in his particular +instance, but in the general application of his meaning. +Look around upon the world, or so much of it as is comprised +within our own limited vision, and what do you find?”</p> +<p>“I find everything,” said my wife, +“beautifully ordered and arranged, from the Archbishop of +Canterbury to the Parish Beadle.”</p> +<p>“What do you find?” I repeated. “Mark +the O’Rapley’s knowledge of human nature, you not +only find Waterloos won in the Cricket-field of Eton, but +Bishopricks and Secretaryships and many other glorious victories; +so that you might—”</p> +<p>“Don’t be foolish; Trafalgar was not won in the +Cricket-field.”</p> +<p>“No, but it was fought on the Isis or the Cam, I forget +which. But carry the O’Rapley’s theory into +daily life, and test it by common observation, what do you +find? Why, that this round square is by no means a modern +invention. It has been worked in all periods of our +history. Here is a Vicar with a rich benefice, intended by +nature for a Jockey or a Whipper-in—”</p> +<p>“What, the benefice?”</p> +<p>“No, the Vicar! Here is a barrister who ought to +have been a curate, and become enthusiastic over worked slippers: +there is another thrust into a Government appointment, not out of +respect to him, the Minister doesn’t know him, but to serve +a political friend, or to place an investment in the hands of a +political rival, who will return it with interest on a future +day. The gentleman thus provided for at the country’s +expense would, if left to himself, have probably become an +excellent billiard-marker or pigeon-shooter. Here is +another, <!-- page 163--><a name="page163"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 163</span>who, although a member of +Parliament, was elected by no constituency under Heaven or above +it; and it is clear he was intended by Nature for a position +where obsequiousness and servility meet with their appropriate +reward. Another fills the post of some awful Commissioner +of something, drawing an immense salary, and doing an immense +amount of mischief for it, intended naturally for a secretary to +an Autocratic Nobleman, who would trample the rights of the +people under foot. Here is another—”</p> +<p>“O pray, my dear, do not let us have +another—”</p> +<p>“Only one more,” said I; “here is another, +thrust into the Cabinet for being so disagreeable a fellow, who +ought to have been engaged in making fireworks for Crystal Palace +fêtes.”</p> +<p>“But this is only an opinion of yours; how do you know +these gentlemen are not fitted for the posts they occupy? surely +if they do the work—”</p> +<p>“The public would have no right to grumble.”</p> +<p>“And as for obsequiousness and servility, I am afraid +those are epithets too often unjustly applied to those gentlemen +whose courteous demeanour wins them the respect of their +superiors.”</p> +<p>“Quite so,” said I; “and I don’t see +that it matters what is the distinguishing epithet you apply to +them: this courteous demeanour or obsequiousness is no doubt the +very best gift Nature can bestow upon an individual as an outfit +for the voyage of life.”</p> +<p>“Dear me, you were complaining but just now of its +placing men in positions for which they were not +qualified.”</p> +<p>“Not complaining, my love; only remarking. I go in +for obsequiousness, and trust I shall never be found <!-- page +164--><a name="page164"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +164</span>wanting in that courteous demeanour towards my +superiors which shall lead to my future profit.”</p> +<p>“But would you have men only courteous?”</p> +<p>“By no means, I would have them talented +also.”</p> +<p>“But in what proportion would you have the one to the +other?”</p> +<p>“I would have the same proportion maintained that exists +between the rudder and the ship: you want just enough tact to +steer your obsequiousness.”</p> +<p>Here again I dozed.</p> +<h2><!-- page 165--><a name="page165"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 165</span>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">A comfortable evening at the Goose</p> +<p>When Mr. Bumpkin left the Mansion House, he was in a state of +great triumph not to say ecstasy: for it seemed to him that he +had had everything his own way. He was not cross-examined; +no witnesses were called, and it had only been stated by the +prisoner himself, not proved, although he said he should prove it +at the trial, that the watch had been in the family for upwards +of forty years.</p> +<p>“The biggest lie,” muttered Master Bumpkin, +“that ever wur told.” And then he reasoned in +this wise: “how could it a bin in his family forty year +when he, Bumpkin, only lost it the day afore in the most +barefaced manner? He was a pooty feller as couldn’t +tell a better story than thic.”</p> +<p>And then methought in my dream, “Ah, Bumpkin, thou +may’st triumph now, but little dreamest thou what is in +store for thee at the trial. Wait till all those little +insignificant points, hardly visible at present, shall rise, like +spear-heads against thee at the Old Bailey and thrust thee +through and through and make thee curse the advocate’s +skill and the thief’s impudence and the inertness of the +so-called Public Prosecutor: and mayhap, I know not yet, show +thee how wrong and robbery may triumph over right and +innocence. Thou <!-- page 166--><a name="page166"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 166</span>hast raised thyself, good Bumpkin, +from the humblest poverty to comparative wealth and a lawsuit: +but boast not overmuch lest thou find Law a taskmaster instead of +a Protector!</p> +<p>Thus, moralizing in my dream I perceived that Mr. Bumpkin +after talking to some men betook himself to a Bus and proceeded +on his way to the “Goose” at Westminster, whither he +arrived in due time and in high spirits.</p> +<p>The Goose was a nice cosy public-house, situated, as I before +observed, near the river side and commanded a beautiful view of +the neighbouring wharves and the passing craft. It was a +favourite resort of waterside men, carters, carriers, labourers +on the wharf and men out of work. The Military also +patronized it:—And many were the jovial tales told around +the taproom hearth by members of Her Majesty’s troops to +admiring and astonished Ignorance.</p> +<p>It was a particularly cold and bleak day, this ninth of March +one thousand eight hundred and something. The wind was due +East and accompanied ever and anon with mighty thick clouds of +sleet and snow. The fireside therefore was particularly +comfortable, and the cheery faces around the hearth were pleasant +to behold.</p> +<p>Now Mr. Bumpkin, as the reader knows, was not alone in his +expedition. He had his witness, named Joseph Wurzel: called +in the village “Cocky,” inasmuch as it was generally +considered that he set much by his wisdom: and was possessed of +considerable attainments. For instance, he could snare a +hare as well as any man in the county: or whistle down pheasants +to partake of a Buckwheat refection which he was in the habit of +spreading for their repast.</p> +<p><!-- page 167--><a name="page167"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +167</span>A good many fellows who were envious of Joe’s +abilities avowed that “he was a regler cunnin’ +feller, as ud some day find out his mistake;” meaning +thereby that Joe would inevitably be sent to prison. Others +affirmed that he was a good deal too cunning for that; that he +was a regular artful dodger, and knew how to get round the vicar +and all in authority under him. The reader knows that he +was a regular attendant at Church, and by that means was in high +favour. Nor was his mother behind hand in this respect, +especially in the weeks before Christmas; and truly her religion +brought its reward even in this world in the shape of Parish +Gifts.</p> +<p>No doubt Joe was fond of the chase, but in this respect he but +imitated his superiors, except that I believe he occasionally +went beyond them in the means he employed.</p> +<p>Assembled in this common room at the Goose on the night in +question, were a number of persons of various callings and some +of no calling in particular. Most of them were acquainted, +and apparently regular customers. One man in particular +became a great favourite with Joe, and that was Jacob Wideawake +the Birdcatcher; and it was interesting to listen to his +conversation on the means of catching and transforming the London +Sparrow into an article of Commerce.</p> +<p>Joe’s dress no doubt attracted the attention of his +companions when he first made his appearance, for it was +something out of the ordinary style: and certainly one might say +that great care had been bestowed upon him to render his personal +appearance attractive in the witness-box. He wore a +wideawake hat thrown back on his head, thus displaying his brown +country-looking face to full advantage. His coat was a kind +of dark velveteen <!-- page 168--><a name="page168"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 168</span>which had probably seen better days +in the Squire’s family; so had the long drab +waistcoat. His corduroy trousers, of a light green colour, +were hitched up at the knees with a couple of straps as though he +wore his garters outside. His neckerchief was a bright red, +tied round his neck in a careless but not unpicturesque +manner. Take him for all in all he was as fine a specimen +of a country lad as one could wish to meet,—tall, well +built, healthy looking, and even handsome.</p> +<p>Now Mr. Bumpkin, being what is called “a close +man,” and prone to keep his own counsel on all occasions +when it was not absolutely necessary to reveal it, had said +nothing about his case before the Lord Mayor; not even Mrs. +Oldtimes had he taken into his confidence. It is difficult +to understand his motive for such secrecy, as it is impossible to +trace in nine instances out of ten any particular line of human +conduct to its source.</p> +<p>Acting probably on some vague information that he had +received, Mr. Bumpkin looked into the room, and told Joe that he +thought they should be “on” to-morrow. He had +learned the use of that legal term from frequent intercourse with +Mr. Prigg. He thought they should be on but “wur not +sartin.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said Joe, “the sooner the +better. I hates this ere hangin’ about.” +At this Jack Outofwork, Tom Lazyman, and Bill Saunter laughed; +while Dick Devilmecare said, “He hated hanging about too; +it was wus than work.”</p> +<p>“And that’s bad enough, Heaven knows,” said +Lazyman.</p> +<p>Then I saw that at this moment entered a fine tall handsome +soldier, who I afterwards learned was Sergeant Goodtale of the +One Hundred and twenty-fourth <!-- page 169--><a +name="page169"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +169</span>Hussars. A smarter or more compact looking fellow +it would be impossible to find: and he came in with such a +genial, good-natured smile, that to look at him would almost make +you believe there was no happiness or glory on this side the +grave except in Her Majesty’s service—especially the +Hussars!</p> +<p>I also perceived that fluttering from the side of Sergeant +Goodtale’s cap, placed carelessly and jauntily on the side +of his head, was a bunch of streamers of the most fascinating red +white and blue you ever could behold. Altogether, Sergeant +Goodtale was a splendid sight. Down went his cane on the +table with a crack, as much as to say “The Queen!” +and he marched up to the fire and rubbed his hands: apparently +taking no heed of any human being in the room.</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin’s heart leaped when he saw the military +sight: his eyes opened as if he were waking from a dream out of +which he had been disturbed by a cry of “fire:” and +giving Joe a wink and an obviously made-up look, beckoned him out +of the room. As they went out they met a young man, +shabbily clad and apparently poorly fed. He had an +intelligent face, though somewhat emaciated. He might be, +and probably was, a clerk out of employment, and he threw himself +on the seat in a listless manner that plainly said he was tired +of everything.</p> +<p>This was Harry Highlow. He had been brought up with +ideas beyond his means. It was through no fault of his that +he had not been taught a decent trade: those responsible for his +training having been possessed of the notion that manual labour +lowers one’s respectability: an error and a wickedness +which has been responsible for the ruin of many a promising youth +before to-day.</p> +<p><!-- page 170--><a name="page170"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +170</span>Harry was an intelligent, fairly educated youth, and +nothing more. What is to be done with raw material so +plentiful as that? The cheapest marketable commodity is an +average education, especially in a country where even our +Universities can supply you with candidates for employment at a +cheaper rate than you can obtain the services of a first-class +cook. This young man had tried everything that was genteel: +he had even aspired to literature: sought employment on the +Press, on the Stage, everywhere in fact where gentility seemed to +reign. Nor do I think he lacked ability for any of these +walks; it was not ability but opportunity that failed him.</p> +<p>“Lookee ere, Joe,” said Mr. Bumpkin; “harken +to me. Don’t thee ’ave nowt to say to that +there soger.”</p> +<p>“All right, maister,” said Joe, laughing; +“thee thinks I be gwine for a soger. Now lookee ere, +maister, I beant a fool.”</p> +<p>“No, thee beant, Joe. I knowed thee a good while, +and thee beant no fool.”</p> +<p>Joe laughed. It was a big laugh was Joe’s, for his +mouth was somewhat large, and a grin always seemed to twist +it. On this occasion, so great was his surprise that his +master should think he would be fool enough to enlist for a +“soger,” that his mouth assumed the most irregular +shape I ever saw, and bore a striking resemblance to a hole such +as might be made in the head of a drum by the heel of a boot.</p> +<p>“I be up to un, maister.”</p> +<p>“Have no truck wi’ un, I tell ee; don’t +speak to un. Thee be my head witness, and doant dare goo +away; no, no more un if—”</p> +<p>“No fear,” said Joe. “’Taint +likely I be gwine to <!-- page 171--><a name="page171"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 171</span>listen to ee. I knows what he +wants; he’s arter listin chaps.”</p> +<p>“Look ee ere, Joe, if ur speaks to thee, jist say I +beant sich a fool as I looks; that’ll ave un.”</p> +<p>“Right,” says Joe; “I beant sich a fool as I +looks; that’ll ave un straight.”</p> +<p>“Now, take heed; I’m gwine into the parlour +wi’ Landlord.”</p> +<p>Accordingly, into the little quiet snuggery of Mr. Oldtimes, +Mr. Bumpkin betook himself. And many and many an agreeable +evening was passed with Mr. and Mrs. Oldtimes during the period +when Mr. Bumpkin was waiting for his trial. For Mr. and +Mrs. Oldtimes being Somersetshire people knew many inhabitants of +the old days in the village of Yokelton, where Mr. Bumpkin +“were bred and born’d.”</p> +<p>Meanwhile the “head witness” had returned to the +cheerful scene in the taproom, and sat leering out of the corners +of his eyes upon the Sergeant, as though he expected every moment +that officer would make a spring at him and have him upon the +floor. But the Sergeant was not a bullying, blustering sort +of man at all; his demeanour was quiet in the extreme. He +scarcely looked at anyone. Simply engaged in warming his +hands at the cheerful fire, no one had cause to apprehend +anything from him.</p> +<p>But a man, Sergeant or no Sergeant, must, out of common +civility, exchange a word now and then, if only about the +weather; and so he said, carelessly,—</p> +<p>“Sharp weather, lads!”</p> +<p>Now, not even Joe could disagree with this; it was true, and +was assented to by all; Joe silently acquiescing. After the +Sergeant had warmed his hands and <!-- page 172--><a +name="page172"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 172</span>rubbed them +sufficiently, he took off his cap and placed it on a little shelf +or rack; and then took out a meerschaum pipe, which he exhibited +without appearing to do so to the whole company. Then he +filled it from his pouch, and rang the bell; and when the buxom +young waitress appeared, he said,—</p> +<p>“My dear, I think I’ll have a nice rump steak and +some onions, if you please.”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir,” said the maid.</p> +<p>Now I observed that two or three matters were noteworthy at +this point. First, Joe’s mouth so watered that he +actually went to the fireplace and expectorated. Secondly, +he was utterly amazed at the familiar manner in which the +Sergeant was permitted to address this beautiful young person, +who seemed to be quite a lady of quality. Thirdly, he was +duly impressed and astounded with the luxurious appetite of this +Sergeant of Hussars!</p> +<p>Then the young woman came back and said,—“Would +you like to have it in the parlour, sir?”</p> +<p>“O no, my dear,” said the Sergeant; “I would +rather have it here. I hate being alone.”</p> +<p>As he said this, he slightly glanced at Dick +Devilmecare. Dick, flattering himself that the observation +was addressed particularly to him, observed that he also hated +being alone.</p> +<p>Then the Sergeant lighted his pipe; and I suppose there was +not one in the company who did not think that tobacco +particularly nice.</p> +<p>Next, the Sergeant rang again, and once more the pretty maid +appeared.</p> +<p>“Lucy,” said he, “while my steak is getting +ready, I <!-- page 173--><a name="page173"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 173</span>think I’ll have three of +whiskey hot, with a little lemon in it.”</p> +<p>At this there was an involuntary smacking of lips all round, +although no one was conscious he had exhibited any emotion. +The Sergeant was perfectly easy and indifferent to +everything. He smoked, looked at the fire, sipped his grog, +spread out his legs, folded his arms; then rose and turned his +back to the fire, everyone thinking how thoroughly he enjoyed +himself.</p> +<p>“That smells very nice, Sergeant,” said Harry.</p> +<p>“Yes, it’s very good,” said the Sergeant; +“it’s some I got down at Yokelton, +Somersetshire.”</p> +<p>Here Joe looked up; he hadn’t been home for a week, and +began to feel some interest in the old place, and everything +belonging to it.</p> +<p>“I comes from that ere place, Mr. Sergeant,” said +he.</p> +<p>“Indeed, sir,” said the Sergeant, in an off-hand +manner.</p> +<p>“Did thee buy un at a shop by the Pond, sir?”</p> +<p>“That’s it,” replied the Sergeant, pointing +with his pipe, “to the right.”</p> +<p>“The seame plaace,” exclaimed Joe. +“Why my sister lives there sarvant wi that ooman as keeps +the shop.”</p> +<p>“Indeed!” said Sergeant Goodtale; “how very +curious!”</p> +<p>And Jack said, “What a rum thing!”</p> +<p>And Bill said, “That is a rum thing!”</p> +<p>And Harry said it was a strange coincidence. In short, +they all agreed that it was the most remarkable circumstance that +ever was.</p> +<h2><!-- page 175--><a name="page175"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 175</span>CHAPTER XIX.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">The subject continued.</p> +<p>As soon as the conversation on the remarkable circumstance +recorded in the last chapter had drifted into another subject no +less remarkable, and the Sergeant had finished his pipe, the +beautiful being appeared with the rump steak and onions, a snowy +white cloth having been previously spread at the end of one of +the tables. When all was ready, it looked as nice and +appetizing as could well be conceived. The most indifferent +man there seemed the Sergeant himself, who, instead of rushing to +the chair provided for him, walked as coolly up to the table as +though he were going into action. Then he took the knife, +and seeing it had not quite so sharp an edge as he liked, gave it +a touch or two on the stone hearth.</p> +<p>The smell of that tobacco from Yokelton had been sweet; so had +the perfume from the whiskey toddy and the lemon; but of all the +delicious and soul-refreshing odours that ever titilated human +nostrils, nothing surely could equal that which proceeded from +the rump steak and onions. The fragrance of new mown hay, +which Cowper has so beautifully mentioned, had palled on +Joe’s senses; but when would the fragrance of that dish +pall on the hungry soul?</p> +<p>The Sergeant took no notice of the hungry looks of <!-- page +176--><a name="page176"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +176</span>the company; he was a soldier, and concentrated his +mind upon the duties of the moment. Sentimentality was no +part of his nature. He was a man, and must eat; he was a +soldier, and must perform the work as a duty irrespective of +consequences.</p> +<p>“Do you mind my smoke?” asked Harry.</p> +<p>“Oh dear, no,” said the Sergeant; “I like +it.”</p> +<p>Joe stared and watched every bit as the Sergeant cut it. +He looked admiringly on the soldier and so lovingly at the steak, +that it almost seemed as if he wished he could be cut into such +delicious morsels and eaten by so happy a man. What +thoughts passed through his mind no one but a dreamer could tell; +and this is what I saw passing through the mind of Wurzel.</p> +<p>“O, what a life! what grub! what jollyness! no turmut +oeing; no dung-cart; no edgin and ditchin; no five o’clock +in the mornin; no master; no bein sweared at; no up afore the +magistrates; no ungriness; rump steaks and inguns; whiskey and +water and bacca; if I didn’t like that air Polly Sweetlove, +danged if I wouldn’t go for a soger to-morrer!”</p> +<p>Then said Joe, very deferentially and as if he were afraid of +being up afore the magistrate, “If you please, sir, med I +have a bit o’ that there bacca?”</p> +<p>“Of course,” said the Sergeant, tossing his pouch; +“certainly; help yourself.”</p> +<p>Joe’s heart was softened more and more towards the +military, which he had hitherto regarded, from all he could hear, +as a devil’s own trap to catch Sabbath breakers and +disobedient to parents.</p> +<p>And methought, in my dream, I never saw men who were not +partakers of a feast enjoy it more than the onlookers of that +military repast.</p> +<p><!-- page 177--><a name="page177"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +177</span>Then said Harry,—</p> +<p>“Well, Sergeant, I’m well-nigh tired of my life, +and I’ve come here to enlist.”</p> +<p>“Just wait a bit,” said the Sergeant; +“I’m not a man to do things in a hurry. I never +allow a man to enlist, if I know it, in Her Majesty’s +service, honourable and jolly as it is, without asking him to +think about it.”</p> +<p>“Hear, hear!” said Lazyman; “that’s +good, I likes that; don’t be in a hurry, lad.”</p> +<p>“Hear, hear!” says Outofwork, “don’t +jump into a job too soon, yer medn’t like it.”</p> +<p>“Hear, hear!” says the Boardman, “walk round +a-bit.”</p> +<p>“But,” said Harry, “I have considered +it. I’ve just had education enough to prevent my +getting a living, and not enough to make a man of me: I’ve +tried everything and nobody wants me.”</p> +<p>“Then,” said Sergeant Goodtale, “do you +think the Queen only wants them that nobody else’ll +have. I can tell you that ain’t the Queen of +England’s way. It might do for Rooshia or Germany, or +them countries, but not for Old England. It’s a free +country. I think, lads, I’m right—”</p> +<p>Here there was tremendous hammering on the table by way of +assent and applause; amidst which Joe could be observed thumping +his hard fist with as much vehemence as if he had got a County +Magistrate’s head under it.</p> +<p>“This is a free country, sir,” said the Sergeant, +“no man here is kidnapped into the Army, which is a +profession for men, not slaves.”</p> +<p>“I’m going to join,” said Harry, “say +what you like.”</p> +<p><!-- page 178--><a name="page178"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +178</span>“Wait till the morning;” said the Sergeant, +“and meanwhile we’ll have a song.”</p> +<p>At this moment Mr. Bumpkin put in an appearance; for although +he had been enjoying himself with Mr. and Mrs. Oldtimes, he +thought it prudent to have a peep and see how “thic Joe wur +gettin on.”</p> +<h2><!-- page 179--><a name="page179"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 179</span>CHAPTER XX.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Mr. Bumpkin sings a good old song—the +Sergeant becomes quite a convivial companion and plays +dominoes.</p> +<p>The Sergeant, having finished his repast, again had recourse +to his pipe, and was proceeding to light it when Mr. Bumpkin +appeared in the room.</p> +<p>“We be gwine to have a song, maister,” said +Joe.</p> +<p>“Give us a song, governor,” said half-a-dozen +voices.</p> +<p>“Ay, do, maister,” says Joe; “thee sings a +good un, I knows, for I ha eerd thee often enough at arvest +oames: gie us a song, maister.”</p> +<p>Now if there was one thing Mr. Bumpkin thought he was really +great at besides ploughing the straightest and levellest furrow, +it was singing the longest and levellest song. He had been +known to sing one, which, with its choruses, had lasted a full +half hour, and then had broken down for lack of memory.</p> +<p>On the present occasion he would have exhibited no reluctance, +having had a glass or two in the Bar Parlour had he not possessed +those misgivings about the Sergeant. He looked furtively at +that officer as though it were better to give him no +chance. Seeing, however, that he was smoking quietly, and +almost in a forlorn manner by himself, his apprehensions became +less oppressive.</p> +<p><!-- page 180--><a name="page180"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +180</span>Invitations were repeated again and again, and with +such friendly vehemence that resistance at last was out of the +question.</p> +<p>“I aint sung for a good while,” said he, +“but I wunt be disagreeable like, so here goes.”</p> +<p>But before he could start there was such a thundering on the +tables that several minutes elapsed. At length there was +sufficient silence to enable him to be heard.</p> +<p>“This is Church and Crown, lads.”</p> +<p class="poetry">“Gie me the man as loves the Squire,<br +/> +The Parson, and the Beak;<br /> +And labours twelve good hours a day<br /> +For thirteen bob a week!”</p> +<p>“Hooroar! hooroar! hooroar!” shouted +Lazyman. “What d’ye think ’o +that?”</p> +<p>“O, my eye,” said Outofwork, “aint it +jolly?”</p> +<p>“Well done! bravo!” shrieked the Boardman. +“I’ll carry that ere man through the streets on my +shoulders instead o’ the boards, that I will. Bravo! +he ought to be advertized—this style thirteen bob a +week!”</p> +<p>“Thirteen bob a week!” laughed Harry; +“who’d go for a soldier with such a prospect. +Can you give us a job, governor?”</p> +<p>“Wait a bit, lads,” said Mr. Bumpkin, “there +be another werse and then a chorus.”</p> +<p>“Hooray!” they shouted, “a chorus! +let’s have the chorus—there ought to be a +chorus—thirteen bob a week!”</p> +<p>“Now, gentlemen, the chorus if you please,” said +Harry; “give it mouth, sir!”</p> +<p>Then sang Bumpkin—</p> +<p class="poetry"><!-- page 181--><a name="page181"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 181</span>“O ’edgin, ditchin, +that’s the geaam,<br /> + All in the open air;<br /> +The poor man’s health is all his wealth,<br /> + But wealth without a care!</p> +<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry"><span +class="smcap">Chorus</span>.</p> +<p class="poetry">Then shout hurrah for Church and State<br /> + Though ’eretics may scoff,<br /> +The devil is our head Constable,<br /> + To take the willins off.</p> +<p class="poetry">Give me the man that’s poor and +strong,<br /> + Hard working and content;<br /> +Who looks on onger as his lot,<br /> + In Heaven’s wise purpose sent.<br /> +Who looks on riches as a snare<br /> + To ketch the worldly wise;<br /> +And good roast mutton as a dodge,<br /> + To blind rich people’s eyes.</p> +<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry"><span +class="smcap">Chorus</span>.</p> +<p class="poetry">Give me the man that labours hard<br /> + From mornin’ until night,<br /> +And looks at errins as a treat<br /> + And bacon a delight.<br /> +O ’edgin, ditchin, diggin drains,<br /> + And emptyin pool and dyke,<br /> +It beats your galloppin to ’ounds,<br /> + Your ball-rooms and the like.</p> +<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry"><span +class="smcap">Chorus</span>.</p> +<p class="poetry">Gi’ me the man that loves the Squire<br +/> + With all his might and main;<br /> +And with the taxes and the rates<br /> + As never racks his brain.<br /> +Who loves the Parson and the Beak<br /> + As Heaven born’d and sent,<br /> +And revels in that blessed balm<br /> + A hongry sweet content.</p> +<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry"><span +class="smcap">Chorus</span>.</p> +<p class="poetry"><!-- page 182--><a name="page182"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 182</span>Gie me the good Shaksperan man<br /> + As wants no other books,<br /> +But them as he no need to spell,<br /> + The ever runnin brooks:<br /> +As feeds the pigs and minds the flocks,<br /> + And rubs the orses down;<br /> +And like a regler lyal man,<br /> + Sticks up for Church and Crown.”</p> +<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry"><span +class="smcap">Chorus</span>.</p> +<p>At the termination of this pastoral song there was such a +hullabaloo of laughter, such a yelling, thumping, and, I grieve +to say, swearing, that Mr. Bumpkin wondered what on earth was the +occasion of it. At the Rent dinner at the Squire’s he +had always sung it with great success; and the Squire himself had +done him the honour to say it was the best song he had ever +heard, while the Clergyman had assured him that the sentiments +were so good that it ought to be played upon the organ when the +people were coming out of church. And Farmer Grinddown, who +was the largest gentleman farmer for miles around, had declared +that if men would only act up to that it would be a happy +country, and we should soon be able to defy America itself.</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin, hearing such shouts of laughter, thought perhaps +he might have a patch of black on his face, and put his hand up +to feel. Then he looked about him to see if his dress was +disarranged; but finding nothing amiss, he candidly told them he +“couldn’t zee what there wur to laugh at thic +fashion.”</p> +<p>They all said it was a capital song, and wondered if he had +any more of the same sort, and hoped he’d leave them a lock +of his hair—and otherwise manifested tokens of enthusiastic +approbation.</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin, however, could not quite see their <!-- page +183--><a name="page183"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +183</span>mirth in the same light, so he turned on his heel and, +beckoning to Joe, left the room in high dudgeon, not to say +disdain.</p> +<p>“Mind Joe—no truck wi un.”</p> +<p>“Why, maister, he knows my sister.”</p> +<p>“Damn thee sister, Joe; it be a lie.”</p> +<p>“Be it? here’s some o’ the bacca he brought +up from Okleton, I tell ee.”</p> +<p>“I tell thee, have nowt to do wi un; we shall be on +t’morrer, we be tenth in the list.”</p> +<p>“Ay,” said Joe, “we bin igher in list un +thic, we bin as near as eight; I shall be mighty glad when it be +over.”</p> +<p>“An get back to pigs, aye, Joe?”</p> +<p>“Aye, maister.”</p> +<p>“Nothin like oame, Joe, be there?” and Mr. Bumpkin +turned away.</p> +<p>“No,” said Joe; “no, maister, if so +be” (and this was spoken to himself) “if so be you +got a oame.”</p> +<p>Then I saw that Joe rejoined his companions, amongst whom a +conversation was going on as to the merits of the song. +Some said one thing and some another, but all condemned it as a +regular toading to the Parson and the Squire: and as for the +Beak, how any man could praise him whose only duty was to punish +the common people, no one could see. The company were +getting very comfortable. The Sergeant had called for +another glass of that delectable grog whose very perfume seemed +to inspire everyone with goodfellowship, and they all appeared to +enjoy the Sergeant’s liquor without tasting it.</p> +<p>“What do you say to a game of dominoes?” said +Harry.</p> +<p>“They won’t allow em ere,” said Lazyman.</p> +<p><!-- page 184--><a name="page184"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +184</span>“Won’t they,” answered +Outofwork. “I’ll warrant if the Sergeant likes +to play there’s no landlord’ll stop him, ay, +Sergeant?”</p> +<p>“Well, I believe,” said the Sergeant, “as +one of the Queen’s servants, I have the privilege of +playing when I like.”</p> +<p>“Good,” said Harry, “and I’ll be a +Queen’s man too, so out with the shilling, +Sergeant.”</p> +<p>“Wait till the morning,” said the Sergeant.</p> +<p>“No,” said Harry. “I’ve had +enough waiting. I’m on, give me the +shilling.”</p> +<p>The Sergeant said, “Well, let me see, what height are +you?” and he stood up beside him.</p> +<p>“Ah!” he said, “I think I can get you +in,” saying which he gave him a shilling; such a bright +coin, that it seemed to have come fresh from the Queen’s +hand.</p> +<p>Then the Sergeant took out some beautiful bright ribbons which +he was understood to say (but did <i>not</i> say) the Queen had +given him that morning. Then he rang the bell, and the +buxom waitress appearing he asked for the favour of a needle and +thread, which, the radiant damsel producing, with her own fair +fingers she sewed the ribbons on to Harry’s cap, smiling +with admiration all the while. Even this little incident +was not without its effect on the observant “head +witness,” and he felt an unaccountable fascination to have +the same office performed by the same fair hands on his own +hat.</p> +<p>Then, without saying more, a box of dominoes was produced, and +Joe soon found himself, he did not know how, the Sergeant’s +partner, while Lazyman and Outofwork were opposed to them.</p> +<p>“Is it pooty good livin in your trade, Mr. +Sergeant?” asked Joe.</p> +<p><!-- page 185--><a name="page185"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +185</span>“Not bad,” said the Sergeant; “that +is five-one, I think”—referring to the play.</p> +<p>“Rump steaks and ingons aint bad living,” said +Outofwork.</p> +<p>“No,” said the Sergeant, “and there’s +nothing I like better than a good thick mutton chop for +breakfast—let me see, what’s the game?”</p> +<p>“Ah!” said Joe, smacking his lips, “mutton +chops is the best thing out; I aint had one in my mouth, though, +for a doocid long time; I likes em with plenty o’ fat an +gravy loike.”</p> +<p>“You see,” said the Sergeant, “when +you’ve been out for a two or three mile ride before +breakfast in the fresh country air, a chap wants something good +for breakfast, and a mutton chop’s none too much for +him.”</p> +<p>“No,” answered Joe, “I could tackle +three.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Sergeant Goodtale, “but some are +much larger than others.”</p> +<p>“So em be,” agreed Joe.</p> +<p>“What’s the game,” enquired the +Sergeant.</p> +<p>“Two-one,” said Joe.</p> +<p>“One’s all,” said the soldier.</p> +<p>“I tell ee what,” remarked Joe, “if I was +going to list, there’s no man as I’d liefer list wi +than you, Mr. Sergeant.”</p> +<p>“Domino!” said the Sergeant, “that’s +one to us, partner!”</p> +<p>Then they shuffled the dominoes and commenced again. But +at this moment the full figure of Mr. Bumpkin again stood in the +doorway.</p> +<p>“Joe!” he exclaimed angrily, “I want thee, +come ere thirecly, I tell ee!”</p> +<p>“Yes, maister; I be comin.”</p> +<p><!-- page 186--><a name="page186"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +186</span>“You stoopid fool!” said Mr. Bumpkin in a +whisper, as Joe went up to him, “thee be playin with thic +feller.”</p> +<p>“Well, maister, if I be; what then?” Joe said this +somewhat angrily, and Mr. Bumpkin replied:—</p> +<p>“He’ll ha thee, Joe—he’ll ha +thee!”</p> +<p>“Nay, nay, maister; I be too old in the tooth for he; +but it beant thy business, maister.”</p> +<p>“No,” said Bumpkin, as he turned away, “it +beant.”</p> +<p>Then Joe resumed his play. Now it happened that as the +Sergeant smacked his lips when he took his occasional sip of the +fragrant grog, expressive of the highest relish, it awakened a +great curiosity in Wurzel’s mind as to its particular +flavour. The glass was never far from his nose and he had +long enjoyed the extremely tempting odour. At last, as he +was not invited to drink by Sergeant Goodtale, he could contain +himself no longer, but made so bold as to say:—</p> +<p>“Pardner, med I jist taste this ere? I never did +taste sich a thing.”</p> +<p>“Certainly, partner,” said the Sergeant, pushing +the tumbler, which was about three-parts full. +“What’s the game now?”</p> +<p>“Ten-one,” said Outofwork.</p> +<p>“One’s all, then,” said the Sergeant.</p> +<p>Joe took the tumbler, and after looking into it for a second +or two as though he were mentally apostrophizing it, placed the +glass to his lips.</p> +<p>“Don’t be afraid,” said the Sergeant.</p> +<p>No one seemed more courageous than Wurzel, in respect of the +act with which he was engaged, and before he took the glass from +his lips its contents had disappeared.</p> +<p>“I’m mighty glad thee spoke, Maister Sergeant, for +if <!-- page 187--><a name="page187"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +187</span>thee hadn’t I should a drunk un all wirout thy +leave. I never tasted sich tackle in my life; it’s +enough to make a man gie up everything for sogering.”</p> +<p>“Domino!” said the Sergeant. “I think +that’s the game!”</p> +<p style="text-align: center">* * * * *</p> +<p>“My dear,” said my wife, “you have been +talking again in your sleep.”</p> +<p>“Really,” said I, “I hope I have not +compromised myself.”</p> +<p>“I do not understand you,” cried she.</p> +<p>“No more do I, for I am hardly awake.”</p> +<p>“You have been talking of Joe Wurzel again.”</p> +<p>“O, to be sure. What about him?”</p> +<p>“Then you mentioned Mr. Outofwork and Mr. Lazyman and +Mr. Devilmecare, and another whose name I did not +catch.”</p> +<p>“Ah,” I asked, “did they go for +soldiers?”</p> +<p>“At present, no, except Harry, for whom I was heartily +sorry, he seemed such a nice disappointed lad. But pray who +is this Sergeant Goodtale?”</p> +<p>“He is on recruiting service, a very fine, persuasive +fellow.”</p> +<p>“But he didn’t seem to press these people or use +any arts to entice them: I like him for that. He rather +seemed to me to discourage them from enlisting. He might +have been sure poor Harry meant it, because, as I take it, he was +half-starved, and yet he desired him to wait till the +morning.”</p> +<p>“I think,” said I, “his conduct was artful +if you examine it with reference to its effect on the others; but +he is an extraordinary man, this Sergeant Goodtale—was +never known to persuade any one to enlist, I believe.”</p> +<p><!-- page 188--><a name="page188"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +188</span>“But he seemed to get along very well.”</p> +<p>“Very; I thought he got along very +comfortably.”</p> +<p>“Then there was one Lucy Prettyface!”</p> +<p>“Ah, I don’t remember her,” cried I, alarmed +lest I might have said anything in my dream for which I was not +responsible.</p> +<p>“Why she was the girl who sewed the colours on and +somebody called ‘my dear.’”</p> +<p>“I assure you,” I said, “it was not I: it +must have been the Sergeant; but I have no recollection—O +yes, to be sure, she was the waitress.”</p> +<p>“You remember her now?”</p> +<p>“Well,” said I, determined not to yield if I could +possibly help it, “I can’t say that I do. I +know there was a person who sewed colours on and whom the +Sergeant called ‘my dear,’ but further than that I +should not like to pledge myself. Yes—yes—to be +sure,” and here I went on talking, as it were, to myself, +for I find it is much better to talk to yourself if you find it +difficult to carry on a conversation with other persons.</p> +<p>“She was pretty, wasn’t she?” said my wife +with an arch look.</p> +<p>I gave her a look just as arch, as I replied,</p> +<p>“Really I hardly looked at her; but I should say +<i>not</i>.” I make a point of never saying any one +is pretty.</p> +<p>“Joe thought her so.”</p> +<p>“Did he? Well she may have been, but I never went +in for Beauty myself.”</p> +<p>“You shocking man,” said my wife, “do you +perceive what you are saying?”</p> +<p>“Why, of course; but you take me up so sharply: if you +had not cut me off in the flower of my speech you would have been +gratified at the finish of my sentence. <!-- page 189--><a +name="page189"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 189</span>I was going +to say, I never went in for Beauty, but once. That, I +think, gives the sentence a pretty turn.”</p> +<p>“Well, now, I think these dreams and this talking in +your sleep indicate that you require a change; what do you say to +Bournemouth?”</p> +<p>“You think I shall sleep better there?”</p> +<p>“I think it will do you good.”</p> +<p>“Then we’ll go to Bournemouth,” cried I, +“for I understand it’s a very dreamy +place.”</p> +<p>“But I should like to know what becomes of this action +of Mr. Bumpkin, and how all his people get on? You may +depend upon it that Sergeant will enlist those other +men.”</p> +<p>“I do not know,” I remarked, “what is in the +future.”</p> +<p>“But surely you know what you intend. You can make +your characters do anything.”</p> +<p>“Indeed not,” I said. “They will have +their own way whether I write their history or any one +else.”</p> +<p>“That Sergeant Goodtale will have every one of them, my +dear; you mark my words. He’s the most artful man I +ever heard of.”</p> +<p>Of course I could offer no contradiction to this statement as +I was not in the secrets of the future. How the matter will +work out depends upon a variety of circumstances over which I +have not the least control. For instance, if Bill were to +take the shilling, I believe Dick would follow: and if the +Sergeant were to sing a good song he might catch the rest. +But who can tell?</p> +<h2><!-- page 191--><a name="page191"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 191</span>CHAPTER XXI.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Joe electrifies the company and surprises the +reader.</p> +<p>“Suppose we have another song,” said Sergeant +Goodtale.</p> +<p>“And spoase we has some moore o’ that there +stuff,” answered Joe.</p> +<p>“Aye,” said Harry, “we will too. +I’ll spend my shilling like a man.”</p> +<p>Saying which he rang the bell and ordered a glass for himself +and one for Joe.</p> +<p>“Now, then,” said the latter, “I can’t +sing, but I’ll gie thee summut as I larned.”</p> +<p>“Hooray!” said Harry, “summut as he +larned!”</p> +<p>“Bravo!” said the Boardman, “summut as he +larned?”</p> +<p>“Here’s at un,” said Joe.</p> +<p>And then with a mighty provincialism he repeated without a +break:—</p> +<h3>DR. BRIMSTONE’S SERMON,<br /> +<span class="smcap">as put into verse by gaffer +ditcher</span>.</h3> +<p class="poetry">I bin to Church, I ha’, my boy,<br /> + And now conwarted be;<br /> +The last time I wur ever there<br /> + War eighteen farty-three!</p> +<p class="poetry"><!-- page 192--><a name="page192"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 192</span>And ’ow I knows it is as +this,<br /> + I didn’t goo to pray,<br /> +Nor ’ear the Word, but went becorse<br /> + It wur my weddin day!</p> +<p class="poetry">Zounds! wot a blessed sarmon twur<br /> + I ’eeard the Sabbath morn;<br /> +’Ow I a woful sinner wur<br /> + Or ever I wur born.</p> +<p class="poetry">You sees them wilful igorant pigs<br /> + In mud a wollorin;<br /> +Well, like them pigs, but ten times wus,<br /> + We wollers in our sin.</p> +<p class="poetry">We’re coated o’er wi’ sinful +mud,—<br /> + A dreadful sight we be;<br /> +And yet we doant despise ourselves—<br /> + For why?—We doant zee!</p> +<p class="poetry">I thinks I had yer there, my boy,<br /> + For all your sniggerin’ jeers;<br /> +Thee’re in t’ mud, I tell ’ee, lad,<br /> + Rightoover ’ed an’ ears.</p> +<p class="poetry">Zounds! what a orful thing it be<br /> + That love should blind us so!<br /> +Why, them there bloomin rosy cheeks<br /> + Be ony masks o’ woe!</p> +<p class="poetry">The reddest on ’em thee could kiss<br /> + Aint ’ardly wuth the pains;<br /> +At best it’s but the husk o’ bliss,<br /> + It’s nuther wuts nor banes.</p> +<p class="poetry">There aint a pleasure you can name,<br /> + From coourtin down to skittles,<br /> +But wot there’s mischief in the same,<br /> + Like pisen in your wittles.</p> +<p class="poetry">The Reverend Brimstone says, “Beloved,<br +/> + Be allays meek an umble;<br /> +A saint should never ax for moor,<br /> + An never larn to grumble.”</p> +<p class="poetry"><!-- page 193--><a name="page193"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 193</span>We ain’t to tork o’ +polleticks<br /> + An’ things as don’t consarn us,<br /> +And wot we wornts to know o’ lor<br /> + The madgistret will larn us.</p> +<p class="poetry">We ain’t to drink wi’ +Methodists,<br /> + No, not a friendly soop;<br /> +We ain’t to tork o’ genteel folks<br /> + Onless to praise un oop.</p> +<p class="poetry">We ain’t to ’ear a blessed word<br +/> + Agin our betters said;<br /> +We’re got to lay the butter thick<br /> + Becorse they’re sich ’igh bred!</p> +<p class="poetry">We got to say “Ha! look at he!<br /> + A gemman tooth and nail!”<br /> +You morn’t say, “What a harse he’d be<br /> + If he’d a got a tail!”</p> +<p class="poetry">For why? becorse these monied gents<br /> + Ha’ got sich birth an’ +breedin’;<br /> +An’ down we got to ’old our ’eads,<br /> + Like cattle, when they’re feedin’.</p> +<p class="poetry">The parson put it kindly like—<br /> + He sed, says he, as ’ow<br /> +We’re bean’t so good as them there grubs<br /> + We turns up wi’ the plow.</p> +<p class="poetry">There’s nowt more wretcheder an we,<br /> + Or worthier an the rich,<br /> +I praises ’em for bein’ born,<br /> + An’ ’eaven for makin’ sich.</p> +<p class="poetry">So wile we be, I daily stares<br /> + That earthquakes doan’t fall,<br /> +An’ swaller up this unconwinced<br /> + Owdashus earthly ball!</p> +<p class="poetry">An’ wen I thinks of all our +sins—<br /> + Lay down, says I, my boys,<br /> +We’re fittin’ only for manoor,<br /> + So don’t let’s make a noise.</p> +<p class="poetry"><!-- page 194--><a name="page194"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 194</span>Let’s spred us out upon the +ground<br /> + An’ make the turmuts grow,<br /> +It’s all we’re good for in this world<br /> + O’ wickedness an’ woe!</p> +<p class="poetry">And yet we’re ’llow’d to +brethe the air<br /> + The same as gents from town;<br /> +And ’llow’d to black their ’appy boots,<br /> + And rub their ’orses down!</p> +<p class="poetry">To think o’ blessins sich as these,<br /> + Is like ongrateful lust;<br /> +It stuffs us oop wi’ worldly pride,<br /> + As if our ’arts would bust!</p> +<p class="poetry">But no, we’re ’umble got to be,<br +/> + Though privileged so ’igh:<br /> +Why doan’t we feed on grass or grains,<br /> + Or leastways ’umbly die!</p> +<p class="poetry">We got to keep our wicked tongue<br /> + From disrespeckful speakin’,<br /> +We han’t a got to eat too much,<br /> + Nor yet goo pleasure seekin’.</p> +<p class="poetry">Nor kitch a rabbit or a aire,<br /> + Nor call the Bobby names,<br /> +Nor stand about, but goo to church,<br /> + And play no idle games:</p> +<p class="poetry">To love paroshial orficers,<br /> + The squire, and all that’s his,<br /> +And never goo wi’ idle chaps<br /> + As wants their wages riz.</p> +<p class="poetry">So now conwarted I ha’ bin<br /> + From igorance and wice;<br /> +It’s only ’appiness that’s sin,<br /> + And norty things that’s nice!</p> +<p class="poetry">Whereas I called them upstart gents<br /> + The wust o’ low bred snobs,<br /> +Wi’ contrite ’art I hollers out<br /> + “My heye, wot bloomin’ nobs!”</p> +<p class="poetry"><!-- page 195--><a name="page195"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 195</span>I sees the error o’ my +ways,<br /> + So, lads, this warnin’ take,<br /> +The Poor Man’s path, the parson says,<br /> + Winds round the Burnin’ Lake.</p> +<p class="poetry">They’ve changed it since the days +o’ yore,<br /> + Them Gospel preachers, drat un;<br /> +They used to preach it to the poor,<br /> + An’ now they preach it <i>at</i> un.</p> +<p>Every one was amazed at the astonishing memory of this country +lad: and the applause that greeted the reciter might well be +calculated to awaken his latent vanity. It was like being +called before the curtain after the first act by a young actor on +his first appearance. And I believe every one understood +the meaning of the verses, which seemed to imply that the hungry +prodigal, famishing for food, was fed with husks instead of +grain. Contentment with wretchedness is not good preaching, +and this was one lesson of Dr. Brimstone’s sermon. As +soon as Harry could make himself heard amidst the general hubbub, +which usually follows a great performance, he said:—</p> +<p>“Now, look here, lads, it’s all very well to be +converted with such preaching as that; but it’s my belie +it’s more calculated to make hypocrites than +Christians.”</p> +<p>“Hear! hear!” said Lazyman. “That +<i>is</i> right.” Anything but conversion for +Lazyman.</p> +<p>“Now,” continued Harry, “I’ve heard +that kind of preaching a hundred times: it’s a regular +old-fashioned country sermon; and, as for the poor being so near +hell, I put it in these four lines.”</p> +<p>“Hear, hear!” cried the company; +“order!”</p> +<p>And they prepared themselves for what was to come with as +great eagerness as, I venture to say, would <!-- page 196--><a +name="page196"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 196</span>always be +shown to catch the text, if it came at the end, instead of the +beginning, of a sermon.</p> +<p>“Shut up,” says Lazyman; “let’s +’ear this ’ere. I knows it’s summut good +by the look an him.”</p> +<p>“Don’t make a row,” retorts the Boardman; +“who can hear anything while you keeps on like +that?”</p> +<p>And there they stood, actually suspending the operation of +smoking as they waited the summing up of this remarkably orthodox +“preaching of the word.” The sergeant only was +a spectator of the scene, and much amused did he seem at the +faces that prepared for a grin or a sneer as the forthcoming +utterance should demand. Then said Harry solemnly and +dramatically:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“In <span class="smcap">Want</span> full +many a vice is born,<br /> + And Virtue in a <span +class="smcap">Dinner</span>;<br /> +A well-spread board makes many a <span +class="smcap">Saint</span>,<br /> + And <span class="smcap">Hunger</span> many a +sinner.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>From the explosion which followed this antidote to Mr. +Brimstone’s sermon, I should judge that the more part of +the company believed that Poverty was almost as ample a virtue as +Charity itself. They shook their heads in token of assent; +they thumped the table in recognition of the soundness of the +teaching; and several uttered an exclamation not to be committed +to paper, as an earnest of their admiration for the ability of +Mr. Highlow, who, instead of being a private soldier, ought, in +their judgment, to be Lord Mayor of London. After this +recital every one said he thought Mr. Highlow might oblige +them.</p> +<p>“Well, I’m no singer,” said Harry.</p> +<p>“Try, Harry!” exclaimed Lazyman: he was a rare one +to advise other people to try.</p> +<p><!-- page 197--><a name="page197"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +197</span>“Trying to sing when you can’t,” +answered Harry, “I should think is a rum sort of business; +but I’ll tell you what I’ll do if you like. +When I was down at Hearne Bay I heard an old fisherman tell a +story which—”</p> +<p>“That’s it!” thumped out Joe, “a +story. I likes a good story, specially if there be a goast +in it.”</p> +<p>“I don’t know what there is in it,” said +Harry, “I’ll leave you to make that out; but I tell +you what I did when I heard it, I made a ballad of it, and so if +you like I’ll try and recollect it.”</p> +<p>“Bravo!” they said, and Harry gave them the +following</p> +<h3>SONG OF THE WAVES.</h3> +<p class="poetry">Far away on the pebbly beach<br /> + That echoes the sound of the surge;<br /> +As if they were gifted with speech,<br /> + The breakers will sing you a dirge.</p> +<p class="poetry">The fishermen list to it oft,<br /> + And love the sweet charm of its spell,<br /> +For sometimes it wispers so soft,<br /> + It seems but the voice of the shell.</p> +<p class="poetry">It tells of a beautiful child<br /> + That used to come down there and play,<br /> +And shout to the surges so wild<br /> + That burst on the brink of the bay.</p> +<p class="poetry">She was but a child of the poor,<br /> + Whose father had perished at sea;<br /> +’Twas strange, that sweet psalm of the shore,<br /> + Whatever the story might be!</p> +<p class="poetry">Yes, strange, but so true in its tone<br /> + That no one could listen and doubt;<br /> +The heart must be calm and alone<br /> + To search its deep mystery out.</p> +<p class="poetry"><!-- page 198--><a name="page198"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 198</span>She came with a smaller than she<br +/> + That toddled along at her side;<br /> +Now ran to and fled from the sea,<br /> + Now paddled its feet in the tide.</p> +<p class="poetry">Afar o’er the waters so wild,<br /> + Grazed Effie with wondering eye;<br /> +What mystery grew on the child<br /> + In all that bright circle of sky?</p> +<p class="poetry">Her father—how sweet was the thought!<br +/> + Was linked with this childish delight;<br /> +’Twas strange what a vision it brought—<br /> + As though he still lingered in sight.</p> +<p class="poetry">Was it Heaven so near, so remote,<br /> + Across the blue line of the wave?<br /> +’Twas thither he sailed in his boat,<br /> + ’Twas there he went down in his grave!</p> +<p class="poetry">So the days and the hours flew along,<br /> + Like swallows that skim o’er the flood;<br /> +Like the sound of a beautiful song,<br /> + That echoes and dies in the wood!</p> +<p class="poetry">One day as they strayed on the strand,<br /> + And played with the shingle and shell,<br /> +A boat that just touched on the land<br /> + Was playfully rocked by the swell.</p> +<p class="poetry">O childhood, what joy in a ride!<br /> + What eagerness beams in their eyes!<br /> +What bliss as they climb o’er the side<br /> + And shout as they tumble and rise!</p> +<p class="poetry">O sea, with thy pitiful dirge,<br /> + Thou need’st to be mournful and moan!<br /> +The wrath of thy terrible surge<br /> + Omnipotence curbs it alone!</p> +<p class="poetry">The boat bore away from the shore,<br /> + The laughter of childhood so glad!<br /> +And the breakers bring back ever more<br /> + The dirge with its echo so sad!</p> +<p class="poetry"><!-- page 199--><a name="page199"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 199</span>A widow sits mute on the beach,<br +/> + And ever the tides as they flow,<br /> +As if they were gifted with speech,<br /> + Repeat the sad tale of her woe!</p> +<p>“That’s werry good,” said the +Boardman. “I’m afraid them there children was +washed away—it’s a terrible dangerous coast that ere +Ern Bay. I’ve ’eeard my father speak on +it.”</p> +<p>“Them there werses is rippin’!” said +Joe.</p> +<p>“Stunnin’!” exclaimed Bob.</p> +<p>And so they all agreed that it was a pretty song and +“well put together.”</p> +<p>“Capital,” said the sergeant, “I never heard +anything better, and as for Mr. Wurzel, a man with his memory +ought to do something better than feed pigs.”</p> +<p>“Ay, aye,” said the company to a man.</p> +<p>“Why don’t you follow my example?” said +Harry; “it’s the finest life in the world for a young +fellow.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said the sergeant, “that all +depends; its very good for some, for others not so +good—although there are very few who are not pleased when +they once join, especially in such a regiment as ours!”</p> +<p>“And would you mind telling me, sir,” asked +Outofwork, “what sort of chaps it don’t +suit?”</p> +<p>“Well, you see, chaps that have been brought up in the +country and tied to their mothers’ apron strings all their +life: they have such soft hearts, they are almost sure to +cry—and a crying soldier is a poor affair. I +wouldn’t enlist a chap of that sort, no, not if he gave me +ten pounds. Now, for instance, if Mr. Wurzel was to ask my +advice about being a soldier I should say +‘don’t!’”</p> +<p><!-- page 200--><a name="page200"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +200</span>“Why not, sir?” asked Joe; +“how’s that there, then? D’ye think I be +afeard?”</p> +<p>“I should say, go home first, my boy, and ask your +mother!”</p> +<p>“I be d---d if I be sich a molly-coddle as that, nuther; +and I’ll prove un, Mr. Sergeant; gie me thic bright +shillin’ and I be your man.”</p> +<p>“No,” said the sergeant, “think it over, and +come to me in a month’s time, if your mother will let +you. I don’t want men that will let their masters buy +them off the next day.”</p> +<p>“No; an lookee here, Maister Sergeant; I bean’t to +be bought off like thic, nuther. If I goes, I goes for good +an’ all.”</p> +<p>“Well, then,” said the sergeant, shaking him by +the hand, and pressing into it the bright shilling, “if you +insist on joining, you shall not say I prevented you: my business +is not to prevent men from entering Her Majesty’s +service.”</p> +<p>Then the ribbons were brought out, and Joe asked if the young +woman might sew them on as she had done Harry’s; and when +she came in, Joe looked at her, and tried to put on a military +bearing, in imitation of his great prototype; and actually went +so far as to address her as “My dear,” for which +liberty he almost expected a slap in the face. But Lucy +only smiled graciously, and said: “Bravo, Mr. Wurzel! +Bravo, sir; I’ve seen many a man inlisted, and sewed the +Queen’s colours on for him, but never for a smarter or a +finer fellow, there!” and she skipped from the room.</p> +<p>“Well done!” said several voices. And the +sergeant said:</p> +<p><!-- page 201--><a name="page201"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +201</span>“What do you think of that, Mr. Wurzel? +I’ll back she’s never said that to a soldier +before.”</p> +<p>Joe turned his hat about and drew the ribbons through his +fingers, as pleased as a child with a new toy, and as proud as if +he had helped to win a great battle.</p> +<p>Here I awoke.</p> +<h2><!-- page 203--><a name="page203"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 203</span>CHAPTER XXII.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">The Sergeant makes a loyal speech and sings a +song, both of which are well received by the company.</p> +<p>And when I got to Bournemouth I dreamed again; and a singular +thing during this history was, that always in my dream I began +where I had left off on the previous night. So I saw that +there, in the room at “The Goose,” were Sergeant +Goodtale, and Harry, and Joe, and the rest, just as I had left +them when I last awoke. But methought there was an air of +swagger on the part of the head witness which I had not observed +previously. His hat was placed on one side, in imitation of +the sergeant’s natty cap, and he seemed already to hold up +his head in a highly military manner; and when he stooped down to +get a light he tried to stoop in the same graceful and military +style as the sergeant himself; and after blowing it out, threw +down the spill in the most off-hand manner possible, as though he +said, “That’s how we chaps do it in the +Hussars!” Everyone noticed the difference in the +manner and bearing of the young recruit. There was a +certain swagger and boldness of demeanour that only comes after +you have enlisted. Nor was this change confined to outward +appearance alone. What now were pigs in the mind of +Joe? Merely the producers of pork chops for <!-- page +204--><a name="page204"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +204</span>breakfast. What was Dobbin that slowly dragged +the plough compared to the charger that Joe was destined to +bestride? And what about Polly Sweetlove and her saucy +looks? Perhaps she’d be rather sorry now that she did +not receive with more favour his many attentions. Such were +the thoughts that passed through the lad’s mind as he +gradually awakened to a sense of his new position. One +thought, however, strange to say, did not occur to him, and that +was as to what his poor old mother would think. Dutiful son +as Joe had always been, (though wild in some respects), he had +not given her a single thought. But his reflections, no +doubt, were transient and confused amid the companions by whom he +was surrounded.</p> +<p>“You’ll make a fine soldier,” said the +Boardman, as he saw him swagger across to his seat.</p> +<p>“Yes,” said the sergeant, “any man that has +got it in him, and is steady, and doesn’t eat too much and +drink too much, may get on in the army. It isn’t like +it used to be.”</p> +<p>“I believe that,” said Bob Lazyman.</p> +<p>“The only thing,” continued the sergeant, +“is, there is really so little to do—there’s +not work enough.”</p> +<p>“That ud suit me,” said Bob.</p> +<p>“Ah! but stop,” added the sergeant, “the +temptations are great—what with the +girls—.”</p> +<p>“Hooray!” exclaimed Dick; “that beats +all—I likes them better than mutton chops.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” replied the sergeant; “they are all +very well in their way; but you know, if a man wants to rise in +the army, he must be steady.”</p> +<p>“Steady, boys! stea—dy!” shouted Dick</p> +<p>I don’t know how far the sergeant was justified, <!-- +page 205--><a name="page205"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +205</span>morally, in thus holding out the prospect of riotous +living to these hungry men, but I think, all things considered, +it was an improvement on the old system of the pressgang, which +forced men into the navy. These lads were not bound to +believe the recruiting sergeant, and were not obliged to enter +into a contract with Her Majesty. At the same time, the +alluring prospects were such that if they had been represented as +facts in the commercial transactions of life, such is the purity +of the law that they would have given rise to much pleading, +multifarious points reserved, innumerable summonses at Chambers, +and, at least, one new trial.</p> +<p>“Now,” said Jack Outofwork, “I tell yer what +it is—I don’t take no Queen’s shilling, for +why? it ain’t the Queen’s—it belongs to the +people—I’m for a republic.”</p> +<p>‘“Well,” said the sergeant, “I always +like to meet a chap that calls himself a republican, and +I’ll tell you why. This country is a republic, say +what you like, and is presided over by our gracious Queen. +And I should like to ask any man in this country—now, just +listen, lads, for this is the real question, +whether—”</p> +<p>“Now, order,” said Lazyman, “I never +’eerd nothing put better.”</p> +<p>“Let’s have order, gentlemen,” said Harry; +“chair! chair!”</p> +<p>“All ’tention, sergeant,” said Dick.</p> +<p>“I say,” continued the sergeant; “let us +suppose we got a republic to-morrow; well, we should want a head, +or as they say, a president.”</p> +<p>“That’s good,” said half-a-dozen voices.</p> +<p><!-- page 206--><a name="page206"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +206</span>“Well, what then?” said the sergeant; +“Who would you choose? Why, the Queen, to be +sure.”</p> +<p>Everybody said “The Queen!” And there was +such a thumping on the table that all further discourse was +prevented for several minutes. At last everyone said it was +good, and the sergeant had put it straight.</p> +<p>“Well, look’ee ’ere, lads—I was born +among the poor and I don’t owe nothing to the upper +classes, not even a grudge!”</p> +<p>“Hear! hear! Bravo, Mr. Sergeant!” cried +all.</p> +<p>“Well, then; I’ve got on so far as well as I can, +and I’m satisfied; but I’ll tell you what I believe +our Queen to be—a thorough woman, and loves her people, +especially the poor, so much that d---d if I wouldn’t die +for her any day—now what d’ye think o’ +that?”</p> +<p>Everybody thought he was a capital fellow.</p> +<p>“Look, here,” he continued, “it isn’t +because she wears a gold crown, or anything of that sort, nor +because a word of her’s could make me a field marshal, or a +duke, or anything o’ that sort, nor because she’s +rich, but I’ll tell you why it is—and it’s +this—when we’re fighting we don’t fight for her +except as the Queen, and the Queen means the country.”</p> +<p>“Hear! hear! hear! hear!”</p> +<p>“Well, we fight for the country—but she loves the +soldiers as though they were not the country’s but her own +flesh and blood, and comes to see ’em in the hospital like +a mother, and talks to ’em the same as I do to you, and +comforts ’em, and prays for ’em, and acts like the +real mother of her people—that’s why I’d die +for her, and not because she’s the Queen of England +only.”</p> +<p><!-- page 207--><a name="page207"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +207</span>“Bravo!” said Joe. “Hope I +shall soon see her in th’ ’orsepittal. It be +out ’ere: beant it St. Thomas’s.”</p> +<p>“I hope you won’t, my brave lad,” said the +sergeant; “but don’t tell me about republicanism when +we’ve got such a good Queen; it’s a shame and a +disgrace to mention it.”</p> +<p>“So it be,” said Joe; “I’m darned if I +wouldn’t knock a feller into the middle o’ next week +as talked like thic. Hooroar for the Queen!”</p> +<p>“And now I’m going to say another thing,” +continued the sergeant, who really waxed warm with his subject, +and struck admiration into his audience by his manner of +delivery: may I say that to my mind he was even eloquent, and +ought to have been a sergeant-at-law, only that the country would +have been the loser by it: and the country, to my mind, has the +first right to the services of every citizen. “Just +look,” said the sergeant, “at the kindness of +that—what shall I call her? blessed!—yes, blessed +Princess of Wales! Was there ever such a woman? Talk +about Jael in the Bible being blessed above women—why I +don’t set no value upon her; she put a spike through a +feller it’s true, but it was precious cowardly; but the +Princess, she goes here and goes there visiting the sick and poor +and homeless, not like a princess, but like a real woman, and +that’s why the people love her. No man despises a +toady more than I do—I’d give him up to the tender +mercies of that wife of Heber the Keenite any day; but if the +Princess was to say to me, ‘Look ’ere, Sergeant, I +feel a little low, and should like some nice little excitement +just to keep up my spirits and cheer me up a bit’” +(several of them thought this style of conversation was a +familiar habit with the Princess and Sergeant Goodtale, and that +he <!-- page 208--><a name="page208"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +208</span>must be immensely popular with the Royal Family), +“well, if she was to say, ‘Look here, Sergeant +Goodtale, here’s a precipice, it ud do me good to see you +leap off that,’ I should just take off my coat and tuck up +my shirt sleeves, and away I should go.”</p> +<p>At such unheard of heroism and loyalty there was a general +exclamation of enthusiasm, and no one in that company could tell +whom he at that moment most admired, the Princess or the +Sergeant.</p> +<p>“That’s a stunner!” said Joe.</p> +<p>“Princess by name and Princess by nature,” replied +the sergeant; “and now look’ee here, in proof of what +I say, I’m going to give you a toast.”</p> +<p>“Hear, hear,” said everybody.</p> +<p>“But stop a minute,” said the sergeant, +“I’m not a man of words without deeds. Have we +got anything to drink to the toast?”</p> +<p>All looked in their respective cups and every one said, +“No, not a drop!”</p> +<p>Then said the sergeant “We’ll have one all rounded +for the last. You’ll find me as good as my +word. What’s it to be before we part?”</p> +<p>“Can’t beat this ’ere,” said Joe, +looking into the sergeant’s empty glass.</p> +<p>“So say all of us,” exclaimed Harry.</p> +<p>“That’s it,” said all.</p> +<p>“And a song from the sergeant,” added +Devilmecare.</p> +<p>“Ay, lads, I’ll give you a song.”</p> +<p>Then came in the pretty maid whom Joe leered at, and the +sergeant winked at; and then came in tumblers of the military +beverage, and then the sergeant said:</p> +<p>“In all companies this is drunk upstanding, and with +<!-- page 209--><a name="page209"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +209</span>hats off, except soldiers, whose privilege it is to +keep them on. You need not take yours off, Mr. Wurzel; you +are one of Her Majesty’s Hussars. Now then all say +after me: ‘Our gracious Queen; long may she live and +blessed be her reign—the mother and friend of her +people!’”</p> +<p>The enthusiasm was loud and general, and the toast was drunk +with as hearty a relish as ever it was at Lord Mayor’s +Banquet.</p> +<p>“And now,” said the sergeant, “once more +before we part—”</p> +<p>“Ah! but the song?” said the Boardman.</p> +<p>“Oh yes, I keep my word. A man, unless he’s +a man of his word, ought never to wear Her Majesty’s +uniform!” And then he said:</p> +<p>“The Prince and Princess of Wales and the rest of the +Royal Family.”</p> +<p>This also was responded to in the same unequivocal manner; and +then amid calls of “the sergeant,” that officer, +after getting his voice in tune, sang the following song:</p> +<h3>GOD BLESS OUR DEAR PRINCESS.</h3> +<p class="poetry">There’s not a grief the heart can bear<br +/> + But love can soothe its pain;<br /> +There’s not a sorrow or a care<br /> + It smiles upon in vain.<br /> +And <i>She</i> sends forth its brightest rays<br /> + Where darkest woes depress,<br /> +Where long wept Suffering silent prays—<br /> + God save our dear Princess!</p> +<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry"><span +class="smcap">chorus</span>.</p> +<p class="poetry">She soothes the breaking heart,<br /> + She comforts in distress;<br /> +She acts true woman’s noblest part.<br /> + God save our dear Princess<br /> +<!-- page 210--><a name="page210"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +210</span>She bringeth hope to weary lives<br /> + So worn by hopeless toil;<br /> +E’en Sorrow’s drooping form revives<br /> + Beneath her loving smile.<br /> +Where helpless Age reluctant seeks<br /> + Its refuge from distress,<br /> +E’en there <i>Her</i> name the prayer bespeaks<br /> + God save our dear Princess!</p> +<p class="poetry">It’s not in rank or princely show<br /> + True <i>Manhood’s</i> heart to win;<br /> +’Tis Love’s sweet sympathetic glow<br /> + That makes all hearts akin.<br /> +Though frequent storms the State must stir<br /> + While Freedom we possess,<br /> +Our hearts may all beat true to Her,<br /> + Our own beloved Princess.</p> +<p class="poetry">The violet gives its sweet perfume<br /> + Unconscious of its worth;<br /> +So Love unfolds her sacred bloom<br /> + And hallows sinful earth;<br /> +May God her gentle life prolong<br /> + And all her pathway bless;<br /> +Be this the nation’s fervent song—<br /> + God save our dear Princess!</p> +<p>Although the language of a song may not always be intelligible +to the unlettered hearer, the spirit and sentiment are; +especially when it appeals to the emotions through the charms of +music. The sergeant had a musical voice capable of deep +pathos; and as the note of a bird or the cry of an animal in +distress is always distinguishable from every other sound, so the +pathos of poetry finds its way where its words are not always +accurately understood. It was very observable, and much I +thought to the sergeant’s great power as a singer, that the +first chorus was sung with a tone which seemed to imply that the +audience was feeling its way: <!-- page 211--><a +name="page211"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 211</span>the second +was given with more enthusiasm and vehemence: the third was +thumped upon the table as though a drum were required to give +full effect to the feelings of the company; while the fourth was +shouted with such heartiness that mere singing seemed useless, +and it developed into loud hurrahs, repeated again and again; and +emphasized by the twirling of hats, the clapping of hands, and +stamping of feet.</p> +<p>“What d’ye think o’ that?” says the +Boardman.</p> +<p>“I’m on,” said Lazyman; “give me the +shilling, sergeant, if you please?”</p> +<p>“So’m I,” said Saunter.</p> +<p>“Hooroar!” shouted the stentorian voice that had +erstwhile charmed the audience with Brimstone’s sermon.</p> +<p>“Bravo!” said Harry.</p> +<p>“Look’ee here,” said Jack Outofwork, +“we’ve had a werry pleasant evenin’ together, +and I ain’t goin’ to part like this ’ere; no +more walkin’ about looking arter jobs for me, I’m +your man, sergeant.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said the sergeant, eyeing his company, +“I didn’t expect this; a pluckier lot o’ chaps +I never see; and I’m sure when the Queen sees you +it’ll be the proudest moment of her life. Why, how +tall do you stand, Mr. Lazyman?”</p> +<p>“Six foot one,” said he.</p> +<p>“Ha,” said the Sergeant, “I thought +so. And you, Mr. Outofwork?”</p> +<p>“I don’t rightly know,” said Jack.</p> +<p>“Well,” said the sergeant, “just stand up by +the side of me—ha, that will do,” he added, +pretending to take an accurate survey, “I think I can +squeeze you in—it will be a tight fit though.”</p> +<p><!-- page 212--><a name="page212"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +212</span>“I hope you can, Mr. Sergeant,” said +he.</p> +<p>“Look ’ere,” laughed Joe; “We’ll +kitch ’old of his legs and give him a stretch, won’t +us, Sergeant?”</p> +<p>And so the bright shillings were given, and the pretty +maid’s services were again called in; and she said +“she never see sich a lot o’ plucky fellows in her +born days;” and all were about to depart when, as the +sergeant was shaking hands with Dick Devilmecare in the most +pathetic and friendly manner, as though he were parting from a +brother whom he had not met for years, Devilmecare’s eyes +filled with tears, and he exclaimed,</p> +<p>“Danged if I’ll be left out of it, sergeant; give +me the shillin’?”</p> +<p>At this moment the portly figure of Mr. Bumpkin again appeared +in the doorway!</p> +<h2><!-- page 213--><a name="page213"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 213</span>CHAPTER XXIII.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">The famous Don O’Rapley and Mr. Bumpkin +spend a social evening at the “Goose.”</p> +<p>When Mr. Bumpkin, on this memorable evening, went into Mrs. +Oldtimes’ parlour to console himself after the fatigues and +troubles of the day there were a cheerful fire and a comfortable +meal prepared for him. Mr. O’Rapley had promised to +spend the evening with him, so that they might talk over the +business of the day and the prospects of the coming trial. +It was a very singular coincidence, and one that tended to cement +the friendship of these two gentlemen, that their tastes both +inclined to gin-and-water. And this very house, as appeared +from a notice on the outside, was the “noted house for +Foolman’s celebrated gin.”</p> +<p>But as yet Mr. O’Rapley had not arrived; so after his +meal Mr. Bumpkin looked into the other room to see how Joe was +getting on, for he was extremely anxious to keep his “head +witness” straight. “Joe was his +mainstay.”</p> +<p>I have already related what took place, and the song that +Bumpkin sang. The statement of the head witness that he was +all right, and that he was up to Mr. Sergeant, to a great extent +reassured Mr. Bumpkin: although he felt, keen man that he was, +that that soldier was there for the purpose of “ketchin +what <!-- page 214--><a name="page214"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 214</span>young men he could to make sogers on +’em; he had ’eerd o’ sich things afore:” +such were his thoughts as Mr. O’Rapley entered the +apartment.</p> +<p>“Dear me, Mr. Bumpkin,” said that official, +“how very cold it is! how are you, Mrs. Oldtimes? I +haven’t seen you for an age.”</p> +<p>The Don always made that observation when strangers were +present.</p> +<p>“Hope you’re quite well, sir,” said the +landlady, with much humility.</p> +<p>“What’ll thee please to take, sir?” asked +Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“Well, now, I daresay you’ll think me remarkable +strange, Mr. Bumpkin, but I’m going to say something which +I very very seldom indulge in, but it’s good, I believe, +for indigestion. I will take a little—just a very +small quantity—of gin, with some hot water, and a large +lump of sugar, to destroy the alcohol.”</p> +<p>“Ha!” said the knowing Bumpkin; +“that’s wot we call gin-and-water in our part of the +country. So’ll I, Mrs. Oldtimes, but not too much hot +water for I. What’ll thee smoke, sir?”</p> +<p>“Thank you, one of those cheroots that my lord praised +so much the last time we was ’ere.”</p> +<p>“If you please, sir,” said the landlady, with a +very good-natured smile.</p> +<p>“Well,” said the O’Rapley, in his +patronizing manner; “and how have we got on to-day? let us +hear all about it. Come, your good health, Mr. Bumkin, and +success to our lawsuit. I call it <i>ours</i> now, for I +really feel as interested in it as you do yourself; by-the-bye, +what’s it all about, Mr. Bumpkin?”</p> +<p>“Well, sir, you see,” replied the astute man, +“I hardly knows; it beginnd about a pig, but what +it’s <!-- page 215--><a name="page215"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 215</span>about now, be more un I can tell +thee. I think it be salt and trespass.”</p> +<p>“You have not enquired?”</p> +<p>“No, I beant; I left un all in the hands o’ my +lawyer, and I believe he’s a goodun, bean’t +he?”</p> +<p>“Let me see; O dear, yes, a capital man—a very +good man indeed, a close shaver.”</p> +<p>“Is ur? and that’s what I want. I wants thic +feller shaved as close to his chin as may be.”</p> +<p>“Ah!” said O’Rapley, “and Prigg will +shave him, and no mistake. Well, and how did we get on at +the Mansion House? First of all, who was against +you?—Mrs. Oldtimes, I <i>think</i> I’ll just take a +very small quantity more, it has quite removed my +indigestion—who was against you, sir?”</p> +<p>“Mr. Nimble; but, lor, he worn’t nowhere; I had un +to rights,—jest gi’e me a leetle more, +missus,—he couldn’t axe I a question I couldn’t +answer; and I believe he said as good, for I zeed un talking to +the Lord Mayor; it worn’t no use to question I.”</p> +<p>“You didn’t say anything about me?”</p> +<p>“No,” answered Bumpkin, in a loud whisper; +“I din’t; but I did say afore I could stop the word +from comin’ out o’ my mouth as I had a +<i>companion</i>, but they didn’t ketch it, except that the +gentleman under the lord mayor were gwine to ax about thee, and +blowed if the counsellor didn’t stop un; so that be all +right.”</p> +<p>“Capital!” exclaimed the great bowler, waving his +arm as if in the act of delivery; then, in a whisper, “Did +they ask about the woman?”</p> +<p>“Noa—they doan’t know nowt about +thic—not a word; I was mighty plased at un, for although, +as thee be aware, it be the biggest lie as ever wur heard, I <!-- +page 216--><a name="page216"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +216</span>wouldn’t have my wife hear o’ sich to save +my life. She be a good wife to I an’ allays have a +bin; but there I thee could clear me in a minute, if need be, +sir.”</p> +<p>“Yes, but you see,” said the artful Don, “if +I was to appear, it would make a sensational case of it in a +minute and fill all the papers.”</p> +<p>“Would ur now? Morn’t do that nuther; but, +wot d’ye think, sir? As I wur leavin’ the +Cooart, a gemman comes up and he says, says he, ‘I spoase, +sir, you don’t want this thing put in the +papers?’ How the dooce he knowed that, I can’t +make out, onless that I wouldn’t say where I lived, for the +sake o’ Nancy; no, nor thee couldn’t ha’ +dragged un out o’ me wi’ horses.”</p> +<p>“Yes?” said the Don, interrogatively.</p> +<p>“‘Well,’ says I, ‘no, I don’t +partickler want it in.’ I thought I’d say that, +don’t thee zee (with a wink), ’cos he shouldn’t +think I were eager like.”</p> +<p>“Exactly,”</p> +<p>“Well, this ’ere gemman says, says he, ‘It +don’t matter to me, sir, whether it’s in or not, but +if thee don’t want it in, I’ll keep it out, +that’s all. It will pay I better p’raps to put +un in.’</p> +<p>“‘And who med thee be, sir?’ I axed.</p> +<p>“‘Only the <i>Times</i>’, said the gemman, +‘that’s all.’ Then, turning to his +friend, he said, ‘Come on, Jack, the gemman wants it in, so +we’ll have it in, every word, and where he comes from too, +and all about the gal; we know all about it, don’t us, +Jack?’”</p> +<p>“Ha!” said the O’Rapley, blowing out a large +cloud, and fixing his eye on the middle stump.</p> +<p>“Well,” continued Bumpkin, “thee could +ha’ knocked I down wi’ a feather. How the doose +they knowed where I comed from I can’t make out; but here +wur I <!-- page 217--><a name="page217"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 217</span>as cloase to the man as writes the +<i>Times</i> as I be to thee.”</p> +<p>The O’Rapley nodded his head knowingly several +times.</p> +<p>“‘Well, and how much do thee charge to keep un +out?’ seys I. ‘Don’t be too hard upon me, +I be only a poor man.’</p> +<p>“‘We have only one charge,’ says the +<i>Times</i>, ‘and that is half a guinea.’</p> +<p>“‘Spoase we say seven and six,’ sess I.</p> +<p>“‘That,’ seys the <i>Times</i>, +‘wouldn’t keep your name out, and I suppose you +don’t want that in?’ ‘Very well,’ I +sess, takin’ out my leather bag and handin’ him the +money; ‘this’ll keep un out, wool ur?’</p> +<p>“‘Sartainly,’ says he; and then his friend +Jack says, ‘My fee be five shillings, sir.’ +‘And who be thee?’ says I. ‘I’m the +<i>Telegrarf</i>,’ seys he. ‘The devil thee +be?’ I sess, ‘I’ve eerd tell on +ee.’ ‘Largest calculation in the world,’ +he says; ‘and, if thee like,’ he says, ‘I can +take the <i>Daily Noos</i> and <i>Stanard</i> money, for I +don’t see ’em here jist now; it’ll be five +shillings apiece.’</p> +<p>“‘Well,’ I sess, ‘this be rum +business, this; if I takes a quantity like this, can’t it +be done a little cheaper?’</p> +<p>“‘No,’ he says; ‘we stands too high +for anything o’ that sort. Thee can ’ave it or +leave it.’</p> +<p>“‘Very well,’ I sess; ‘then, if +there’s no option, there’s the money.’ +And with that I handed un the fifteen shillings.</p> +<p>“‘Then,’ says the <i>Times</i>, +‘we’d better look sharp, Jack, or else we +shan’t be in time to keep it out.’ And +wi’ that they hurried off as fast as they could. I +will say’t they didn’t let the grass grow under their +feet.”</p> +<p><!-- page 218--><a name="page218"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +218</span>“And why,” enquired the Don, with an amused +smile, “were you so anxious to keep it out of the +<i>Times</i>? Mrs. Bumpkin doesn’t read the +<i>Times</i>, does she?”</p> +<p>“Why, no; but then the Squoire tak it in, and when eve +done wi un he lends un to the Doctor, Mr. Gossip; and when he +gets hold o’ anything, away it goes to the Parish Clerk, +Mr. Jeerum, and then thee med as well hire the town crier at +once.”</p> +<p>“I see; but if you’ll excuse me, Mr. Bumpkin, I +will give you a bit of information that may be of +service.”</p> +<p>“Thankee, sir; will thee jist tak a little more to wet +the tother eye like.”</p> +<p>“Well, really,” replied O’Rapley, “it +is long past my hour of nocturnal repose.”</p> +<p>“What, sir? I doant ondustand.”</p> +<p>“I mean to say that I generally hook it off to bed +before this.”</p> +<p>“Zackly; but we’ll ’ave another. Your +leave, sir, thee was going to tell I zummat.”</p> +<p>“O yes,” said Mr. O’Rapley, with a wave of +the hand in imitation of the Lord Chief Justice. “I +was going to say that those two men were a couple of +rogues.”</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin paused in the act of passing the tumbler to his +lips, like one who feels he has been artfully taken in.</p> +<p>“You’ve been done, sir!” said Mr. +O’Rapley emphatically, “that man who said he was the +<i>Times</i> was no more the <i>Times</i> than you’re +<i>Punch</i>.”</p> +<p>“Nor thic <i>Telegrarf</i> feller!”</p> +<p>“No. And you could prosecute them. And +I’ll tell you what you could prosecute them +for.” Mr. Bumpkin looked almost stupified.</p> +<p><!-- page 219--><a name="page219"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +219</span>“I’ll tell you what these villains have +been guilty of; they’ve been guilty of obtaining money by +false pretences, and conspiring to obtain money by false +pretences.”</p> +<p>“Have um?” said Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“And you can prosecute them. You’ve only got +to go and put the matter in the hands of the police, and then go +to some first-rate solicitor who attends police courts; now I can +recommend you one that will do you justice. I should like +to see these rascals well punished.”</p> +<p>“And will this fust-rate attorney do un for +nothin’?”</p> +<p>“Why, hardly; any more than you would sell him a pig for +nothing.”</p> +<p>“Then I shan’t prosekit,” said Mr. Bumpkin; +“the devil’s in’t, I be no sooner out o’ +one thing than I be into another—why I beant out o’ +thic watch job yet, for I got to ’pear at the Old Bailey on +the twenty-fourth.”</p> +<p>“O, committed for trial, was he?” exclaimed the +Don.</p> +<p>“Sure wur ur,” said Mr. Bumpkin +triumphantly—“guilty!”</p> +<p>Now I perceived that the wily Mr. O’Rapley did not +recommend Bumpkin to obtain the services of a solicitor to +conduct his prosecution in this case; and I apprehend for this +reason, that the said solicitor being conscientious, would +unquestionably recommend and insist that Mr. Bumpkin’s +evidence at the Old Bailey should be supported by that of the Don +himself. So Mr. Bumpkin was left to the tender mercies of +the Public Prosecutor or a criminal tout, or the most +inexperienced of “soup” instructed counsel, as the +case might be, but of which matters at present I have no +knowledge as I have no dreams of the future.</p> +<p><!-- page 220--><a name="page220"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +220</span>Then Mr. Bumpkin said, “By thy leave, worthy Mr. +O’Rapley, I will just see what my head witness be about: he +be a sharp lad enow, but wants a dale o’ lookin +arter.”</p> +<h2><!-- page 221--><a name="page221"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 221</span>CHAPTER XXIV.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Don O’Rapley expresses his views of the +policy of the legislature in not permitting dominoes to be played +in public houses.</p> +<p>When Mr. Bumpkin returned to the cosy parlour, his face was +red and his teeth were set. He was so much agitated indeed, +that instead of addressing Mr. O’Rapley, he spoke to Mrs. +Oldtimes, as though in her female tenderness he might find a more +sincere and sympathetic adviser.</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin was never what you would call an eloquent or +fluent speaker: his Somersetshire brogue was at times difficult +of comprehension. He certainly was not fluent when he said +to Mrs. Oldtimes: “Why thic—there—damn un Mrs. +Oldtimes if he beant gwine and never zeed zich a thing in my +bornd days—”</p> +<p>“Why what ever in the name of goodness gracious is the +matter?” asked the landlady.</p> +<p>“Why thic there head witness o’ mine: a +silly-brained—Gor forgive me that iver I should spake so +o’ un, for he wor allays a good chap; and I do +b’leeve he’ve got moore sense than do any thing +o’ that kind.”</p> +<p>“What’s the matter? what’s the +matter?” again enquired Mrs. Oldtimes.</p> +<p>“Why he be playin’ dominoes wi thic +Sergeant.”</p> +<p>“O,” said the landlady, “I was afraid +something had <!-- page 222--><a name="page222"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 222</span>happened. We’re not +allowed to know anything about dominoes or card-playing in our +house—the Law forbids our knowing it, Mr. Bumpkin; so, if +you please, we will not talk about it—I wish to conduct my +house as it always has been for the last five-and-twenty years, +in peace and quietness and respectability, Mr. Bumpkin, which +nobody can never say to the contrairy. It was only the last +licensing day Mr. Twiddletwaddle, the chairman of the Bench, said +as it were the best conducted house in Westminster.”</p> +<p>Now whether it was that the report of this domino playing was +made in the presence of so high a dignitary of the law as Mr. +O’Rapley, or from any other cause, I cannot say, but Mrs. +Oldtimes was really indignant, and positively refused to accept +any statement which involved the character of her +establishment.</p> +<p>“I think,” she continued, addressing Mr. +O’Rapley, “you have known this house for some time, +sir.”</p> +<p>“I have,” said O’Rapley. “I have +passed it every evening for the last ten years.”</p> +<p>“Ah now, to be sure—you hear that, Mr. +Bumpkin. What do you think of that?”</p> +<p>“Never saw anything wrong, I will say that.”</p> +<p>“Never a game in my house, if I knows it; and +what’s more, I won’t believe it until I sees +it.”</p> +<p>“Ockelar demonstration, that’s the law,” +said the Don.</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin’s excitement was absolutely merged in that +of the landlady, whom he had so innocently provoked. He +stared as the parties continued their wordy justification of this +well-ruled household like one dreaming with his eyes open. +No woman could have made more ado about her own character than +Mrs. Oldtimes did respecting that of her house. But then, +<!-- page 223--><a name="page223"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +223</span>the one could be estimated in money, while the other +possessed but an abstract value.</p> +<p>“I believe,” she repeated, “that cards or +dominoes has never been played in my house since here I’ve +been, or since the law has been what it is.”</p> +<p>“I be wery sorry,” said the penitent Bumpkin; +“I warn’t aweare I wur doing anythin’ +wrong.”</p> +<p>“It’s unlawful, you see, to play,” said the +Don; “and consequently they dursn’t play. Now, +why is it unlawful? Because Public Houses is for drinking, +not for amusement. Now, sir, Drink is the largest tax-payer +we’ve got—therefore Drink’s an important +Industry. Set people to work drinking and you get a good +Rewenue, which keeps up the Army and Navy—the Navy swims in +liquor, sir—but let these here Perducers of the Rewenue +pause for the sake o’ playing dominoes, or what not, and +what’s the consequence? You check this important +industry—therefore don’t by any manner of means +interrupt drinking. It’s an agreeable ockepation and +a paying one.”</p> +<p>“Well done, sir,” said Oldtimes, from the corner +of the fireplace, where he was doing his best with only one mouth +and one constitution to keep up the Army and Navy. A +patriotic man was Oldtimes.</p> +<p>“Drink,” continued O’Rapley, “is the +most powerful horgsilery the Government has.”</p> +<p>“Ah!” said Mr. Bumpkin, not knowing what a +horgsilery was; “now thee’ve gone a-head o’ me, +sir. Thee’re a larned man, Mr. O’Rapley, and I +beant much of a schollard; will thee please to tell I what a +horgs—what wur it?”</p> +<p>“Horgsilery,” said Mr. O’Rapley.</p> +<p>“Horsgilly—ah! so twur. Well, by thy leave, +<!-- page 224--><a name="page224"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +224</span>worthy sir, will thee be so kind as to tell I be it +anything like a hogshead?”</p> +<p>“Well,” said Mr. O’Rapley, “its more +like a corkscrew: the taxes of the country would be bottled up as +tight as champagne and you couldn’t get ’em out +without this corkscrew.”</p> +<p>“But I worn’t spakin’ about taxes when I +spak of dominoes; what I wur alludin’ to wur thic Joe been +drawed in to goo for a soger.”</p> +<p>“Lor, bless you,” said Mrs. Oldtimes, “many +a man as good as Joe have listed before now and will +again.”</p> +<p>“Mayhap,” said Bumpkin; “but he wurn’t +my ’ead witness and didn’t work for I. Joe be +my right hand man, although I keeps un down and tells un he beant +fit for nothin’.”</p> +<p>“Ha,” said the Don, “he’s not likely +to go for a soldier, I think, if it’s that good-looking +young chap I saw with the kicking-straps on.”</p> +<p>“Kickin’-straps,” said Bumpkin; “haw! +haw! haw! That be a good un. Well he told I he wur up +to un and I think ur be: he’ll be a clever feller if ur +gets our Joe. Why Nancy ud goo amost out o’ her +mind. And now, sir, will thee ’ave any +moore?”</p> +<p>Mr. O’Rapley, in the most decisive but polite manner, +refused. He had quite gone out of his way as it was in the +hope of serving Mr. Bumpkin. He was sure that the thief +would be convicted, and as he rose to depart seized his +friend’s hand in the most affectionate manner. +Anything he could do for him he was sure he would do cheerfully, +at any amount of self-sacrifice—he would get up in the +night to serve him.</p> +<p>“Thankee,” said Bumpkin; but he had hardly spoken +when he was startled by the most uproarious cheers from <!-- page +225--><a name="page225"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +225</span>the taproom. And then he began again about the +folly of young men getting into the company of recruiting +sergeants.</p> +<p>“Look here,” said the Don, confidentially, +“take my advice—say nothing—a still tongue +makes a wise head; to persuade a man not to enter the army is +tantamount to advising him to desert. If you don’t +mind, you may lay yourself open to a prosecution.”</p> +<p>“Zounds!” exclaimed Mr. Bumpkin, “it seem to +me a man in Lunnon be every minit liable to a prosecution for +zummat. I hope sayin’ that beant contempt o’ +Coourt, sir.”</p> +<p>Mr. O’Rapley was silent—his head drooped towards +Mr. Bumpkin in a semi-conscious manner, and he nodded three +consecutive times: called for another “seroot,” lit +it after many efforts, and again assuring Mr. Bumpkin that he +would do all he could towards facilitating his triumph over +Snooks, was about to depart, when his friend asked him, +confidentially, whether he had not better be at the Old Bailey +when the trial came on, in case of its being necessary to call +him.</p> +<p>“Shurel not!” hiccupped the Don. Then he +pointed his finger, and leering at Bumpkin, repeated, +“Shurel not;—jus swell cll Ch. +Jussiself”—which being interpreted meant, +“Certainly not, you might just as well call the Chief +Justice himself.”</p> +<p>“Pr’aps he’ll try un?” said +Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“Noer won’t—noer won’t: Chansy Juge +mos likel Massr Rolls.”</p> +<h2><!-- page 227--><a name="page227"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 227</span>CHAPTER XXV.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">In spite of all warnings, Joe takes his own +part, not to be persuaded on one side or the +other—affecting scene between Mr. Bumpkin and his old +servant.</p> +<p>“Whatever can that there shoutin’ be for, Mrs. +Oldtimes—they be terrible noisy.”</p> +<p>“O,” said the landlady, “somebody else has +listed.”</p> +<p>“I hope it beant that silly Joe. I warned un two +or three times agin thic feller.”</p> +<p>“There have been several to-night,” said the +landlady, who had scarcely yet recovered from the insinuations +against the character of her house.</p> +<p>“How does thee know thic, my dear lady?”</p> +<p>“O, because Miss Prettyface have been in and out +sewin’ the colours on all the evening, that’s +all. Sergeant Goodtale be the best recrootin’ +sergeant ever come into a town—he’d list his own +father!”</p> +<p>“Would ur, now?” said Bumpkin. “Beant +thee afeard o’ thy husband bein’ took?”</p> +<p>Mrs. Oldtimes shrieked with laughter, and said she wished he +would list Tom, for he wasn’t any good except to sit in the +chimney corner and smoke and drink from morning to night.</p> +<p>“And keep up th’ Army,” growled the +husband</p> +<p><!-- page 228--><a name="page228"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +228</span>“Ha, keep up the Army, indeed,” said Mrs. +Oldtimes; “you do your share in that way, I +grant.”</p> +<p>Now it was quite manifest that that last cheer from the +taproom was the herald of the company’s departure. +There was a great scuffling and stamping of feet as of a general +clearing out, and many “good nights.” Then the +big manly voice of the Sergeant said: “Nine o’clock, +lads; nine o’clock; don’t oversleep yourselves; we +shall have chops at eight. What d’ye say to that, +Mrs. Oldtimes?”</p> +<p>“As you please, Sergeant; but there’s a nice piece +of ham, if any would like that.”</p> +<p>“Ha!” said the Sergeant; “now, how many +would like ham?”</p> +<p>“I’se for a chop,” said Joe, working his +mouth as if he would get it in training.</p> +<p>“Right,” said the Sergeant, “we’ll see +about breakfast in the morning. But you know, Mrs. +Oldtimes, we like to start with a good foundation.”</p> +<p>And with three cheers for the Sergeant the recruits left the +house: all except Joe, who occupied his old room.</p> +<p>After they were gone, and while Mr. Bumpkin was confidentially +conversing with the landlord in the chimney corner, he was +suddenly aroused by the indomitable Joe bursting into the room +and performing a kind of dance or jig, the streamers, meanwhile, +in his hat, flowing and flaunting in the most audaciously +military manner.</p> +<p>“Halloa! halloa! zounds! What be th’ meaning +o’ all this? Why, Joe! Joe! thee’s never +done it, lad! O dear! dear!”</p> +<p>There were the colours as plain as possible in Joe’s +<!-- page 229--><a name="page229"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +229</span>hat, and there was a wild unmeaning look in his +eyes. It seemed already as if the old intimacy between him +and his master were at an end. His memory was more a thing +of the future than the past: he recollected the mutton chops that +were to come. And I verily believe it was brightened by the +dawn of new hopes and aspirations. There was an awakening +sense of individuality. Hitherto he had been the property +of another: he had now exercised the right of ownership over +himself; and although that act had transferred him to another +master, it had seemed to give him temporary freedom, and to have +conferred upon him a new existence.</p> +<p>Man is, I suppose, what his mind is, and Joe’s mind was +as completely changed as if he had been born into a different +sphere. The moth comes out of the grub, the gay Hussar out +of the dull ploughman.</p> +<p>“Why, Joe, Joe,” said his old master. +“Thee’s never gone an’ listed, has thee, +Joe?”</p> +<p>“Lookee ’ere, maister,” said the recruit, +taking off his hat and spreading out the +colours—“Thee sees these here, maister?”</p> +<p>“Thee beant such a fool, Joe, I knows thee +beant—thee’s been well brought oop—and I knows +thee beant gwine to leave I and goo for a soger!”</p> +<p>“I be listed, maister.”</p> +<p>“Never!” exclaimed Mr. Bumpkin. “I +wunt b’lieve it, Joe.”</p> +<p>“Then thee must do tother thing, maister. I tellee +I be listed; now, what’s thee think o’ +that?”</p> +<p>“That thee be a fool,” said Mr. Bumpkin, angrily; +“thee be a silly-brained—.”</p> +<p>“Stop a bit, maister, no moore o’ that. I +beant thy <!-- page 230--><a name="page230"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 230</span>sarvant now. I be a +Queen’s man—I be in the Queen’s +sarvice.”</p> +<p>“A pooty Queen’s man thee be, surely. Why +look at thic hair all down over thy face, and thee be as red as a +poppy.”</p> +<p>Now I perceived that although neither master nor man was in +such a state as could be described as “intoxicated,” +yet both were in that semi-beatific condition which may be called +sentimental.</p> +<p>“Lookee ’ere, maister,” continued Joe.</p> +<p>“And lookee here,” said Mr. Bumpkin, +“didn’t I come out to thee two or three times, and +call thee out and tell ’ee to tak’ heed to thic soger +feller, for he wur up to no good? Did I Joe, or did I +not?”</p> +<p>“Thee did, maister.”</p> +<p>“Well, an’ now look where thee be; he’ve +regler took thee in, thee silly fool.”</p> +<p>“No, he beant; for he wouldn’t ’ave I at +fust, and told I to goo and ax my mither. No ses I, +I’ll goo to the divil afore I be gwine to ax mither. +I beant a child, I ses.”</p> +<p>“But thee’s fond o’ thy poor old mither, +Joe; I knows thee be, and sends her a shillin’ a week out +o’ thy wages; don’t thee, Joe?”</p> +<p>This was an awkward thrust, and pricked the lad in his most +sensitive part. His under-lip drooped, his mouth twitched, +and his eyes glistened. He was silent.</p> +<p>“Where’ll thy poor old mither get a shilling a +week from noo, Joe? That’s what I wants to +know.”</p> +<p>Joe drew his sleeve over his face, but bore up bravely +withal. <i>He</i> wasn’t going to cry, not he.</p> +<p>“Thee beest a silly feller to leave a good ooame and +nine shillin’ a week to goo a sogerin; and when thee was +<!-- page 231--><a name="page231"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +231</span>out o’ work, there were allays a place for thee, +Joe, at the fireside: now, warnt there, Joe?”</p> +<p>“Lookee ’ere, maister, I be for betterin’ +myself.”</p> +<p>“Betterin’ thyself? who put that into thy silly +pate? thic sergeant, I bleeve.”</p> +<p>“So ur did; not by anything ur said, but to see un wi +beef steaks and ingons for supper, while I doan’t +’ave a mouthful o’ mate once a week, and work like a +oarse.”</p> +<p>“Poor silly feller—O dear, dear! whatever wool I +tell Nancy and thy poor mither. What redgimen be thee in, +Joe?”</p> +<p>“Hooroars!”</p> +<p>“Hooroars! hoo-devils!” and I perceived that Mr. +Bumpkin’s eyes began to glisten as he more and more +realized the fact that Joe was no more to him—“thee +manest the oosors, thee silly feller; a pooty oosor thee’ll +make!”</p> +<p>“I tellee what,” said Joe, whose pride was now +touched, “Maister Sergeant said I wur the finest made chap +he ever see.”</p> +<p>“That’s ow ur gulled thee, Joe.”</p> +<p>“Noa didn’t; I went o’ my own free +will. No man should persuade I—trust Joe for thic: +couldn’t persuade I to goo, nor yet not to goo.”</p> +<p>“That’s right,” chimed in Miss Prettyface, +with her sweet little voice.</p> +<p>“And thee sewed the colours on; didn’t thee, +Miss?”</p> +<p>“I did,” answered the young lady.</p> +<p>“Joe,” said Mr. Bumpkin, “I be mortal sorry +for thee; what’ll I do wirout thy evidence? Lawyer +Prigg say thee’s the most wallible witness for +I.”</p> +<p>“Lookee ’ere, maister, ere we bin ’anging +about for weeks and weeks and no forrerder so far as I can +see. <!-- page 232--><a name="page232"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 232</span>When thy case’ll come on I +don’t bleeve no man can tell; but whensomdever thee wants +Joe, all thee’ve got to do is to write to the Queen, and +she’ll gie I leave.”</p> +<p>“O thee silly, igerant ass!” said Mr. Bumpkin; +“I can’t help saying it, Joe—the Queen +doan’t gie leave, it be the kernel. I know zummut +o’ sogerin, thee see; I were in th’ militia farty +year agoo: but spoase thee be away—abraird? How be I +to get at thee then?”</p> +<p>“Ha! if I be away in furren parts, and thy case be in +the list, I doant zee—”</p> +<p>“Thee silly feller, thee’ll ha to goo +fightin’ may be.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said Joe, “I loikes +fightin’.”</p> +<p>“Thee loikes fightin’! what’s thee know +about fightin’? never fit anything in thy life but thic +boar-pig, when he got I down in the yard. O, Joe, I +can’t bear the thought o thee goin’.”</p> +<p>“Noa, but Maister Sergeant says thee jist snicks off the +’eads of the enemy like snickin’ off the tops +o’ beans.”</p> +<p>“Yes, but ow if thee gets thine snicked off?”</p> +<p>“Well, if mine be snicked off, it wunt be no use to I, +and I doan’t care who has un when I ha’ done wi un: +anybody’s welcome as thinks he can do better with un than +I, or ’as moore right to un.”</p> +<p>“Joe, Joe, whatever’ll them there pigs do wirout +thee, and thic there bull ’ll goo out of his mind—he +wur mighty fond o’ thee, Joe—thee couldst do anything +wi un: couldn’t ur, Joe?”</p> +<p>“Ha!” said the recruit; “that there bull ud +foller I about anywhere, and so ur would Missis.”</p> +<p>“Then there be Polly!”</p> +<p>“Ha, that there Polly, she cocked her noase at I, +maister, becos she thought I worn’t good enough; but <!-- +page 233--><a name="page233"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +233</span>wait till she sees me in my cloase; she wunt cock her +noase at I then, I’ll warrant.”</p> +<p>“Well, Joe, as thee maks thy bed so thee must lie on un, +lad. I wish thee well, Joe.”</p> +<p>“Never wronged thee, did I, maister?”</p> +<p>“Never; no, never.” And at this point master +and man shook hands affectionately.</p> +<p>“Gie my love to thic bull,” said Joe. +“I shall come down as soon as evir I can: I wish +they’d let me bring my oarse.”</p> +<p>“Joe, thee ha’ had too much to drink, I know thee +has; and didn’t I warn thee, Joe? Thee can’t +say I didn’t warn thee.”</p> +<p>“Thee did, maister, I’ll allays say it; thee +warned I well—but lor that there stuff as the Sergeant had, +it jist shoots through thee and livins thee oop for all the world +as if thee got a young ooman in thee arms in a dancin’ +booth at the fair.”</p> +<p>“Ha, Joe, it were drink done it.”</p> +<p>“Noa, noa, never!—good-night, maister, and God +bless thee—thee been a good maister, and I been a good +sarvant. I shall allays think o’ thee and Missis, +too.”</p> +<p>Here I saw that Mr. Bumpkin, what with his feelings and what +with his gin-and-water, was well nigh overcome with +emotion. Nor was it to be wondered at; he was in London a +stranger, waiting for a trial with a neighbour, with whom for +years he had been on friendly terms; his hard savings were fast +disappearing; his stock and furniture were mortgaged; some of it +had been sold, and his principal witness and faithful servant was +now gone for a soldier. In addition to all this, poor Mr. +Bumpkin could not help recalling the happiness of his past life, +his early struggles, his rigid self-denial, his <!-- page +234--><a name="page234"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +234</span>pleasure as the modest savings accumulated—not so +much occasioned by the sordid desire of wealth, as the nobler +wish to be independent. Then there was Mrs. Bumpkin, who +naturally crossed his mind at this miserable moment in his +existence—at home by herself—faithful, hardworking +woman, who believed not only in her husband’s wisdom, but +in his luck. She had never liked this going to law, and +would much rather have given Snooks the pig than it should have +come about; yet she could not help believing that her husband +must be right come what may. What would she think of +Joe’s leaving them in this way? All this passed +through the shallow mind of the farmer as he prepared for +bed. And there was no getting away from his thoughts, try +as he would. As he lay on his bed there passed before his +mind the old farm-house, with its elm tree; and the barnyard, +newly littered down with the sweet smelling fodder; the orchard +blossoms smiling in the morning sunshine; the pigs routing +through the straw; the excited ducks and the swifter fowls +rushing towards Mrs. Bumpkin as she came out to shake the +tablecloth; the sleek and shining cows; the meadows dotted all +over with yellow buttercups; the stately bull feeding in the +distance by himself; the lazy stream that pursued its even course +without a quarrel or a lawsuit; all these, and a thousand other +remembrances of home, passed before the excited and somewhat +distempered vision of the farmer on this unhappy night. Had +he been a criminal waiting his trial he could not have been more +wretched. At length he endeavoured to console himself by +thinking of Snooks: tried to believe that victory over that +ill-disposed person would repay the trouble and anxiety it cost +him to achieve. But no, not even revenge was sweet under +his <!-- page 235--><a name="page235"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 235</span>present circumstances. It is +always an apple of ashes at the best; but, weighed now against +the comforts and happiness of a peaceful life, it was worse than +ashes—it was poison.</p> +<p style="text-align: center">* * * * *</p> +<p>Here I awoke.</p> +<p>“Now,” said my wife, “is it not just as I +told you? I knew that artful Sergeant would enlist poor +stupid Joe?”</p> +<p>“O,” quoth I, “have I been talking +again?”</p> +<p>“More than ever; and I am very sorry Joe has deserted +his kind master. I am afraid now he will lose his +case.”</p> +<p>“I am not concerned about that at present; my work is +but to dream, not to prophesy events. I hope Mr. Bumpkin +will win, but nothing is so uncertain as the Law.”</p> +<p>“And why should that be? Law should be as certain +as the Multiplication Table.”</p> +<p>“Ah,” sighed I, “but—”</p> +<p>“A man who brings an action must be right or +wrong,” interrupted my wife.</p> +<p>“Yes,” said I, “and sometimes he’s +both; and one judge will take one view of his case—his +conduct out of Court, and his demeanour in—while another +judge will take another; why, I have known a man lose his case +through having a wart upon his nose.”</p> +<p>“Gracious!” exclaimed my wife, “is it +possible?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” quoth I; “and another through having +a twitch in his eye. Then you may have a foolish jury, who +take a prejudice against a man. For instance, if a lawyer +brings an action, he can seldom get justice before a common jury; +and so if he be sued. A blue ribbon <!-- page 236--><a +name="page236"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 236</span>man on the +jury will be almost sure to carry his extreme virtue to the +border of injustice against a publican. Masters decide +against workmen, and so on.”</p> +<p>“Well, Mr. Bumpkin is not a lawyer, or a publican, or a +blue ribbon man, so I hope he’ll win.”</p> +<p>“I don’t hope anything about it,” I +replied. “I shall note down what takes place; I +don’t care who wins.”</p> +<p>“When will his case at the Old Bailey come on? I +think that’s the term you use.”</p> +<p>“It will be tried next week.”</p> +<p>“He is sure to punish that wicked thief who stole his +watch.”</p> +<p>“One would think so: much will depend upon the way Mr. +Bumpkin gives his evidence; much on the way in which the thief is +defended; a good deal on the ability of the Counsel for the +Prosecution; and very much on the class of man they get in the +jury box.”</p> +<p>“But the case is so clear.”</p> +<p>“Yes, to us who know all about it; but you have to make +it clear to the jury.”</p> +<p>“There’s the watch found upon the man. Why, +dear me, what can be clearer or plainer than that?”</p> +<p>“True; that’s Mr. Bumpkin’s +evidence.”</p> +<p>“And Mr. Bumpkin saw him take it.”</p> +<p>“That’s Bumpkin again.”</p> +<p>“Then Mr. O’Rapley was with him.”</p> +<p>“Did you not hear that he is not to be called; the Don +doesn’t want to be seen in the affair.”</p> +<p>“Well, I feel certain he will win. I shall not +believe in trial by jury if they let that man off.”</p> +<p>“You don’t know what a trial at the Old Bailey or +Quarter Sessions is. I don’t mean at the Old Bailey +<!-- page 237--><a name="page237"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +237</span>before a real Common Law judge, but a Chancery +judge. I once heard a counsel, who was prosecuting a man +for passing bad money, interrupt a recorder in his summing up, +and ask him to tell the jury there was evidence of seven bad +florins having been found in the prisoner’s boot. As +guilty knowledge was the gist of the offence, this seemed +somewhat important. The learned young judge, turning to the +jury, said, in a hesitating manner, ‘Well, really, +gentlemen, I don’t know whether that will affect your +judgment in any way; there is the evidence, and you may consider +it if you please.’”</p> +<p>“One more thing I should like to ask.”</p> +<p>“By all means.”</p> +<p>“Why can’t they get Mr. Bumpkin’s case +tried?”</p> +<p>“Because there is no system. In the County Court, +where a judge tries three times as many cases in a day as any +Superior judge, cases are tried nearly always on the day they are +set down for. At the Criminal Courts, where every case is +at least as important as any Civil case, everyone gets tried +without unnecessary delay. In the Common Law Courts +it’s very much like hunt the slipper—you hardly ever +know which Court the case is in for five minutes together. +Then they sit one day and not another, to the incalculable +expense of the suitors, who may come up from Devonshire to-night, +and, after waiting a week, go back and return again to town at +the end of the following month.”</p> +<p>“But, now that O’Rapley has taken the matter up, +is there not some hope?”</p> +<p>“Well, he seems to have as much power as +anyone.”</p> +<p>“Then I hope he’ll exert it; for it’s a +shame that this poor man should be kept waiting about so +long. I <!-- page 238--><a name="page238"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 238</span>quite feel for him: there really +ought not to be so much delay in the administration of +justice.”</p> +<p>“A dilatory administration of justice amounts too often +to a denial of it altogether. It always increases the +expense, and often results in absolute ruin.”</p> +<p>“I wonder men don’t appoint someone when they fell +out to arbitrate between them.”</p> +<p>“They often do, and too frequently, after all the +expense of getting ready for trial has been incurred, the case is +at last sent to the still more costly tribunal called a +reference. Many matters cannot be tried by a jury, but many +can be that are not; one side clamouring for a reference in order +to postpone the inevitable result; the other often obliged to +submit and be defeated by mere lapse of time.”</p> +<p>“It seems an endless sort of business.”</p> +<p>“Not quite; the measure of it is too frequently the +length of the purse on the one side or the other. A Railway +Company, who has been cast in damages for £1,000, can soon +wear out a poor plaintiff. One of the greatest evils of +modern litigation is the frequency with which new trials are +granted.”</p> +<p>“Lawyers,” said my wife, “are not apparently +good men of business.”</p> +<p>“They are not organizers.”</p> +<p>“It wants such a man as General Wolseley.”</p> +<p>“Precisely.” And here I felt the usual +drowsiness which the subject invariably produces. So I +dreamed again.</p> +<h2><!-- page 239--><a name="page239"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 239</span>CHAPTER XXVI.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Morning reflections—Mrs. Oldtimes proves +herself to be a great philosopher—the departure of the +recruits to be sworn in.</p> +<p>And as I dreamed, methought what a strange paradox is human +nature. How often the night’s convivialities are +followed by despondent morning reflections! In the evening +we grow valiant over the inspiriting converse and the inspiring +glass; in the morning we are tame and calculating. The +artificial gaslight disappears, and the sober, grey morning +breaks in upon our reason. If the sunshine only ripened +one-half the good resolves and high purposes formed at night over +the social glass, what a harvest of good deeds there would +be! Yes, and if the evening dissipations did not obliterate +the good resolves of the morning, which we so often form as a +protection against sin and sorrow, what happy creatures we should +be!</p> +<p>Methought I looked into a piece of three-cornered glass, which +was resting on a ledge of the old wall in the room where Joe was +sleeping, and that I read therein the innermost thoughts of this +country lad. And I saw that he awoke to a very dreadful +sense of the realities of his new position; that, one after +another, visions of other days passed before his mind’s eye +as he lay gazing at the dormer window of his narrow +chamber. What a <!-- page 240--><a name="page240"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 240</span>profound stillness there was! +How different from the roystering glee of the previous +night! It was a stillness that seemed to whisper of home; +of his poor old mother; of the green sward lane that led to the +old farm; of the old oak tree, where the owls lived, and ghosts +were said to take up their quarters; of the stile where, of a +Sunday morning, he used to smoke his pipe with Jack, and Ned, and +Charley; where he had often stood to see Polly go by to church; +and he knew that, notwithstanding she would not so much as look +at him, he loved her down to the very sole of her boot; and would +stand and contemplate the print of her foot after she had passed; +he didn’t know why, for there was nothing in it, after +all. No, Joe, nothing in it—it was in you; that makes +all the difference. And the voice whispered to him of sunny +days in the bright fields, when he held the plough, and the sly +old rook would come bobbing and pecking behind him; and the +little field-mouse would flit away from its turned up nest, +frightened to death, as if it were smitten with an earthquake; +and the skylark would dart up over his head, letting fall a song +upon him, as though it were Heaven’s blessing. Then +the voice spoke of the noontide meal under the hedge in the warm +sunshine, or in the shade of the cool spreading tree; of the +horses feeding close up alongside the hedge; of the going home in +the evening, and the warm fireside, and the rustic song, and of +the thousand and one beloved associations that he was leaving and +casting behind him for ever. But then, again, he thought of +“bettering his condition,” of getting on in the +world, of the smart figure he should look in the eyes of Polly, +who would be sure now to like him better <!-- page 241--><a +name="page241"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 241</span>than she +liked the baker. He never could see what there was in the +baker that any girl should care for; and he thought of what the +Sergeant had said about asking his mother’s leave. +And then he pondered on the beef steaks and onions and mutton +chops, and other glories of a soldier’s life; so he got up +with a brave, resolute heart to face the world like a man, +although it was plainly visible that sorrow struggled in his +eyes.</p> +<p>There was just one tear for old times, the one tear that +showed how very human Joe was beneath all the rough incrustations +with which ignorance and poverty had enveloped him.</p> +<p>As he was sousing his head and neck in a pail of cold water in +the little backyard of the Inn, the thought occurred to +him,—</p> +<p>“I wonder whether or no we ’gins these ’ere +mutton chops for brakfast to-day or arter we’re sweared +in. I expects not till arter we’re sweared +in.”</p> +<p>Then his head went into the pail with a dash, as if that was +part of the swearing-in process. As it came out he was +conscious of a twofold sensation, which it may not be out of +place to describe: the sensation produced by the water, which was +refreshing in the highest degree, and the sensation produced by +what is called wind, which was also deliciously refreshing; and +it was in this wise. Borne along upon the current of air +which passed through the kitchen, there was the most odoriferous +savour of fried bacon that the most luxurious appetite could +enjoy. It was so beautifully and voluptuously fragrant that +Joe actually stopped while in the act of soaping his face that he +might enjoy it. No one, I think, will deny that it must +have been an <!-- page 242--><a name="page242"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 242</span>agreeable odour that kept a man +waiting with his eyes fall of soap for half a minute.</p> +<p>“That beant amiss,” thought Joe; “I wonder +whether it be for I.”</p> +<p>The problem was soon solved, for as he entered the kitchen +with a face as bright and ruddy almost as the sun when he comes +up through a mist, he saw the table was laid out for five, and +all the other recruits had already assembled. There was not +one who did not look well up to his resolution, and I must say a +better looking lot of recruits were never seen: they were tall, +well made, healthy, good-looking fellows.</p> +<p>Now Mrs. Oldtimes was busy at the kitchen fire; the frying-pan +was doing its best to show what could be done for Her +Majesty’s recruits. He was hissing bravely, and +seemed every now and then to give a louder and heartier welcome +to the company. As Joe came in I believe it fairly gave a +shout of enthusiasm, a kind of hooray. In addition to the +rashers that were frying, there was a large dish heaped up in +front of the fire, so that it was quite clear there would be no +lack, however hungry the company might be.</p> +<p>Then they sat down and every one was helped. Mrs. +Oldtimes was a woman of the world; let me also state she had a +deep insight into human nature. She knew the feelings of +her guests at this supreme moment, and how cheaply they could be +bought off at their present state of soldiering. She was +also aware that courage, fortitude, firmness, and the higher +qualities of the soul depend so much upon a contented stomach, +that she gave every one of her guests some nice gravy from the +pan.</p> +<p>It was a treat to see them eat. The Boardman was <!-- +page 243--><a name="page243"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +243</span>terrific, so was Jack. Harry seemed to have a +little more on his mind than the others, but this did not +interfere with his appetite; it simply affected his manner of +appeasing it. He seemed to be in love, for his manner was +somewhat reserved. At length the Sergeant came in, looking +so cheerful and radiant that one could hardly see him and not +wish to be a soldier. Then his cheery “Well, lads; +good morning, lads,” was so home-like that you almost +fancied soldiering consisted in sitting by a blazing kitchen fire +on a frosty morning and eating fried bacon. What a spirit +his presence infused into the company! He detected at a +glance the down-heartedness of Harry, and began a story about his +own enlistment years ago, when the chances for a young man of +education were nothing to what they are now. The story +seemed exactly to fit the circumstances of the case and cheered +Harry up wonderfully. Breakfast was nearly finished when +the Sergeant, after filling his pipe, said:</p> +<p>“Comrades, what do you say; shall I wait till +you’ve quite finished?”</p> +<p>“No, no, Sergeant; no, no,” said all.</p> +<p>Oh! the fragrance of that pipe! And the multiplied +fragrance of all the pipes! Then came smiling Miss +Prettyface to see if their ribbons were all right; and the +longing look of all the recruits was quite an affecting sight; +and the genial motherly good-natured best wishes of Mrs. Oldtimes +were very welcome. All these things were pleasant, and +proved Mrs. Oldtimes’ philosophy to be correct—if you +want to develop the higher virtues in a man, feed him.</p> +<p>Then came the word of command in the tone of an invitation to +a pleasure party: “Now, lads, what do you <!-- page +244--><a name="page244"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +244</span>say?” And off went Harry, upright as if he +had been drilled; off went Bill, trying to shake off the deal +boards in which he had been sandwiched for a year and a half; off +went Bob as though he had found an agreeable occupation at last; +off went Devilmecare as though the war was only just the other +side of the road; off went Jack as though it mattered nothing to +him whether it was the Army or the Church; and, just as Mr. +Bumpkin looked out of the parlour window, off went his +“head witness,” swaggering along in imitation of the +Sergeant, with the colours streaming from his hat as though any +honest employment was better than hanging about London for a case +to “come on.”</p> +<h2><!-- page 245--><a name="page245"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 245</span>CHAPTER XXVII.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">A letter from home.</p> +<p>“I wonder,” said Mrs. Oldtimes, “who this +letter be for; it have been ’ere now nigh upon a week, and +I’m tired o’ seein’ it.”</p> +<p>Miss Prettyface took the letter in her hand and began, as best +she could, for the twentieth time to endeavour to decipher the +address. It was very much blotted and besmeared, and +presented a very remarkable specimen of caligraphy. The +most legible word on it seemed “Gouse.”</p> +<p>“There’s nobody here of that name,” said the +young lady. “Do you know anybody, Mr. Bumpkin, of the +name of Gouse?”</p> +<p>“Devil a bit,” said he, taking the letter in his +hands, and turning it over as if it had been a skittle-ball.</p> +<p>“The postman said it belonged here,” said Mrs. +Oldtimes, “but I can’t make un out.”</p> +<p>“I can’t read the postmark,” said Miss +Prettyface.</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin put on a large pair of glasses and examined the +envelope with great care.</p> +<p>“I think you’ve got un upside down,” said +Mrs. Oldtimes.</p> +<p>“Ah! so ur be,” replied the farmer, turning it +over several times. “Why,” he continued, +“here be a <i>b</i>—<!-- page 246--><a +name="page246"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 246</span>and a +<i>u</i>, beant it? See if that beant a <i>u</i>, Miss, +your eyes be better un mine; they be younger.”</p> +<p>“O yes, that’s a <i>u</i>,” said Miss +Prettyface, “and an <i>m</i>.”</p> +<p>“And that spell <i>bum</i>.”</p> +<p>“But stop,” said Miss Prettyface, +“here’s a <i>p</i>.”</p> +<p>“That’s <i>bump</i>,” said Mrs. Oldtimes; +“we shall get at something presently.”</p> +<p>“Why,” exclaimed Bumpkin, “I be danged if I +doant think it be my old ’ooman’s writin’: but +I beant sure. That be the way ur twists the tail of ur +<i>y</i>’s and <i>g</i>’s, I’ll swear; and +lookee ’ere, beant this <i>k i n</i>?”</p> +<p>“I think it is,” said the maid.</p> +<p>“Ah, then, thee med be sure that be Bumpkin, and the +letter be for I.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said the young lady, “and that other +word which looks more like Grouse is meant for Goose, the sign of +the house.”</p> +<p>“Sure be un,” exclaimed Mr. Bumpkin, “and +Nancy ha put Bumpkin and Goose all in one line, when ur ought to +ha made two lines ov un. Now look at that, that letter +might ha been partickler.”</p> +<p>“So it may be as it is,” said Mrs. Oldtimes; +“it’s from Mrs. Bumpkin, no doubt. Aren’t +you going to open it?”</p> +<p>“I think I wool,” said Bumpkin, turning the letter +round and round, and over and over, as though there was some +special private entrance which could only be discovered by the +closest search. At length Mrs. Oldtimes’ curiosity +was gratified, for he found a way in, and drew out the many +folded letter of the most difficult penmanship that ever was +subjected to mortal gaze. It was not that the writing was +illegible, but that the spelling was so extraordinary, and the +terms of expression <!-- page 247--><a name="page247"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 247</span>so varied. Had I to interpret +this letter without the aid of a dream I should have a long and +difficult task before me. But it is the privilege of +dreamers to see things clearly and in a moment: to live a +lifetime in a few seconds, and to traverse oceans in the space of +a single respiration. So, in the present instance, that +which took Mr. Bumpkin, with the help of Mrs. Oldtimes and the +occasional assistance of Lucy an hour to decipher, flashed before +me in a single second. I ought perhaps to translate it into +a more civilized language, but that would be impossible without +spoiling the effect and disturbing the continuity of character +which is so essential in a work made up of various actors. +Mr. Bumpkin himself in his ordinary costume would be no more out +of place in my Lord Mayor’s state carriage than Mrs. +Bumpkin wielding the Queen’s English in its statelier and +more fashionable adornment. So I give it as it was +written. It began in a bold but irregular hand, and clearly +indicated a certain agitation of mind not altogether in keeping +with the even temperament of the writer’s daily life.</p> +<p>“Deer Tom” (the letter began), “I ope thee +be well for it be a long time agoo since thee left ere I +cant mak un out wot be all this bother about a pig but Tom +thee’ll be glad to ear as I be doin weel the lamin be over +and we got semteen as pooty lams as ever thee clapped eyes +on The weet be lookin well and so be the barly an wuts +thee’ll be glad Tom to ear wot good luck I been avin wi +sellin Mister Prigg have the kolt for twenty pun a pun more +an the Squoire ofered Sam broked er in and ur do look well +in Mrs. Prigg faten I met un the tother day Mr. Prigg wur +drivin un an he tooked off his at jist th’ sam as if +I’d been a lady <!-- page 248--><a +name="page248"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 248</span>Missis +Prigg din’t see me as her edd wur turned th’ tother +way I be glad to tell ee we sold the wuts ten quorter these +was bort by Mister Prigg and so wur the stror ten load as clane +and brite as ever thee seed Mr. Prigg be a rale good +custumer an a nice man I wish there was moore like im it ud +be the makin o’ th’ Parish we shal ave a nice lot o +monie to dror from un at Miklemes he be the best customer we ever +ad an I toold th’ Squoire wen ur corled about the wuts as +Mister Prigg ad orfered ten shillin a quorter for un more un +ee Ur dint seem to like un an rod away but we dooant o un +anythink Tom so I dont mind we must sell ware we ken mak moast +monie I spose Sampson be stronger an grander than ever +it’s my belief an I thinks we shal do well wi un this +Spring tell t’ Joe not to stop out o’ nites or keep +bad kumpany and to read evere nite wat the Wicker told un the +fust sarm an do thee read un Tom for its my bleef ur cant +’urt thee nuther.”</p> +<p>“Humph!” said Bumpkin, “fust sarms +indade. I got a lot o’ time for sarms, an’ as +for thic Joe—lor, lor, Nancy, whatever will thee say, I +wonder, when thee knows he’s gone for a soger—a sarm +beant much good to un now; he be done for.”</p> +<p>And then Mr. Bumpkin went and looked out of the window, and +thought over all the good news of Mrs. Bumpkin’s letter, +and mentally calculated that even up to this time Mr. +Prigg’s account would come to enough to pay the +year’s rent.</p> +<p>Going to law seemed truly a most advantageous business. +Here he had got two shillings a quarter more for the oats than +the Squire had offered, and a pound more for the colt. +Prigg was a famous customer, and no doubt would buy the +hay. And, strange to say, just as <!-- page 249--><a +name="page249"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 249</span>Mr. Bumpkin +thought this, he happened to turn over the last page of the +letter, and there he saw what was really a Postscript.</p> +<p>“Halloo!” says he, “my dear, here be moore +on’t; lookee ’ere.”</p> +<p>“So there is,” answered Lucy; “let’s +have a look.” And thus she read:—</p> +<p>“The klover cut out well it made six lode the little rik +an four pun nineteen The Squoire ony offered four pun ten +so in corse I let Mister Prigg ave un.”</p> +<p>“Well done, Nancy, thee be famous. Now, thic big +rik’ll fetch moore’n thic.”</p> +<p>Such cheering intelligence put Mr. Bumpkin in good heart in +spite of his witness’s desertion. Joe was a good +deal, but he wasn’t money, and if he liked to go for a +soger, he must go; but, in Mr. Bumpkin’s judgment, he would +very soon be tired of it, and wish himself back at his +fireside.</p> +<p>“Now, you must write to Mrs. Bumpkin,” said +Lucy.</p> +<p>“Thee’ll write for I, my dear; won’t +thee?”</p> +<p>“If you like,” said Lucy. And so, after +dinner, when she had changed her dress, she proceeded to write an +epistle for Mrs. Bumpkin’s edification. She had +<i>carte blanche</i> to put in what she liked, except that the +main facts were to be that Joe had gone for a horse soger; that +he expected “the case would come on every day;” and +that he had the highest opinion of the unquestioned ability of +honest Lawyer Prigg.</p> +<p>And now another surprise awaited the patient Bumpkin. As +he sat, later in the day, smoking his pipe, in company with Mrs. +Oldtimes, two men, somewhat <!-- page 250--><a +name="page250"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 250</span>shabbily +dressed, walked into the parlour and ordered refreshment.</p> +<p>“A fine day, sir,” said the elder of the two, a +man about thirty-five. This observation was addressed to +Mr. Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“It be,” said the farmer.</p> +<p>The other individual had seated himself near the fire, and was +apparently immersed in the study of the <i>Daily +Telegraph</i>. Suddenly he observed to his companion, as +though he had never seen it before,—</p> +<p>“Hallo! Ned, have you seen this?”</p> +<p>“What’s that?” asked the gentleman called +Ned.</p> +<p>“Never read such a thing in my life. Just +listen.”</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center">“‘A YOUNG +MAN FROM THE COUNTRY.’<br /> +“<span class="smcap">extraordinary story</span>.</p> +<p>“A man, apparently about sixty-eight, who gave the name +of Bumpkin, appeared as the prosecutor in a case under the +following extraordinary circumstances. He said he was from +the country, but declined to give any more particular address, +and had been taken by a friend to see the Old Bailey and to hear +the trials at that Court. After leaving the Central +Criminal Court, he deposed, that, walking with his friend, he was +accosted in the Street in the open daylight and robbed of his +watch; that he pursued the thief, and when near Blackfriars +Bridge met a man coming towards him; that he seized the supposed +thief, and found him wearing the watch which he affirmed had been +stolen. The manner and appearance of ‘the young man +from the country’ excited great laughter in Court, and the +Lord Mayor, in <!-- page 251--><a name="page251"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 251</span>the absence of any evidence to the +contrary, thought there was a <i>primâ facie</i> case under +the circumstances, and committed the accused for trial to the +Central Criminal Court. The prisoner, who was respectably +dressed, and against whom nothing appeared to be known, was most +ably defended by Mr. Nimble, who declined to put any questions in +cross-examination, and did not address his Lordship. The +case created great sensation, and it is expected that at the +trial some remarkable and astounding disclosures will be +made. ‘The young man from the country’ was very +remarkably dressed: he twirled in his hand a large old-fashioned +white-beaver hat with a black band round it; wore a very peculiar +frock, elaborately ornamented with needlework in front and +behind, while a yellow kerchief with red ends was twisted round +his neck. The countryman declined to give his town address; +but a remarkable incident occurred during the hearing, which did +not seem to strike either the Lord Mayor or the counsel for the +defence, and that was that no appearance of the +countryman’s companion was put in. Who he is and to +what region he belongs will probably transpire at the ensuing +trial, which is expected to be taken on the second day of the +next Sessions. It is obvious that while the case is <i>sub +judice</i> no comments can properly be made thereon, but we are +not prevented from saying that the evidence of this extraordinary +‘young man from the country’ will be subjected to the +most searching cross-examination of one of the ablest counsel of +the English Bar.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The two men looked at Mr. Bumpkin; while the latter coloured +until his complexion resembled beetroot. Miss Prettyface +giggled; and Mrs. Oldtimes winked at <!-- page 252--><a +name="page252"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 252</span>Mr. +Bumpkin, and shook her head in the most significant manner.</p> +<p>“That’s a rum case, sir,” said Ned.</p> +<p>Silence.</p> +<p>“I don’t believe a word of the story,” said +his companion.</p> +<p>Silence.</p> +<p>“Do you believe,” he continued, “that that +man could have been wearing that watch if he’d stole +it?”</p> +<p>“Not I.”</p> +<p>“Lor! won’t Jemmy Nimble make mincemeat of +’im!”</p> +<p>Mrs. Oldtimes looked frequently towards Mr. Bumpkin as she +continued her sewing, making the most unmistakeable signals that +under no circumstances was he to answer. It was apparent to +everyone, from Mr. Bumpkin’s manner, that the paragraph +referred to him.</p> +<p>“The best thing that chap can do,” said Ned, +“is not to appear at the trial. He can easily keep +away.”</p> +<p>“He won’t, you’re sure,” answered the +other man; “he knows a trick worth two of that. They +say the old chap deserted his poor old wife, after beating her +black and blue, and leaving her for dead.”</p> +<p>“It be a lie!” exclaimed Bumpkin, thumping his +fist on the table.</p> +<p>“Oh!” said Ned, “do you know anything about +it, sir? It’s no odds to me, only a man can’t +shut his ears.”</p> +<p>“P’r’aps I do and p’r’aps I +doant; but it beant no bi’niss o’ thine.”</p> +<p>“I didn’t mean no offence, but anybody can read +the paper, surely; it’s a free country. +P’r’aps you’re the man himself; I didn’t +think o’ that.”</p> +<p><!-- page 253--><a name="page253"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +253</span>“P’r’aps I be, and +p’r’aps I beant.”</p> +<p>“And p’r’aps your name is +Bumpkin?”</p> +<p>“And p’r’aps it beant, and what +then?”</p> +<p>“Why, you’ve nothing to do with it, that’s +all; and I don’t see why you should interfere.”</p> +<p>“I can’t have no quarrelling in my house,” +said the landlady. “This gentleman’s nothing to +do with it; he knows nothing at all about it; so, if you please, +gentlemen, we needn’t say any more.”</p> +<p>“Oh! I don’t want to talk about it,” +said Ned.</p> +<p>“No more do I,” chimed in his companion; +“but it’s a pity that he should take up our +conversation when he hasn’t anything to do with it, and his +name isn’t Bumpkin, and he hasn’t lost his +watch. It’s no odds to me; I don’t care, do +you, Ned?”</p> +<p>“Not I,” said Ned; “let’s be off; I +don’t want no row; anybody mustn’t open his mouth +now. Good day, sir.”</p> +<p>And the two young men went away.</p> +<h2><!-- page 255--><a name="page255"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 255</span>CHAPTER XXVIII.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Mr. Bumpkin determines to maintain a discreet +silence about his case at the Old Bailey—Mr. Prigg confers +with him thereon.</p> +<p>And I saw that Mr. Bumpkin’s case did not come on. +Day by day passed away, and still it was not in the paper. +The reason, however, is simple, and need not be told to any +except those of my readers who are under the impression that the +expeditious administration of justice is of any +consequence. It was obvious to the most simple-minded that +the case could not be taken for a day or two, because there was a +block in every one of the three Courts devoted to the trial of +Nisi Prius actions. And you know as well as anyone, Mr. +Bumpkin, that when you get a load of turnips, or what not, in the +market town blocked by innumerable other turnip carts, you must +wait. Patience, therefore, good Bumpkin. Justice may +be slow-footed, but she is sure handed; she may be blind and +deaf, but she is not dumb; as you shall see if you look into one +of the “blocked Courts” where a trial has been going +on for the last sixteen days. A case involving a dispute of +no consequence to any person in the world, and in which there is +absolutely nothing except—O rare phenomenon!—plenty +of money. It was interesting only on account of the +bickerings between the learned counsel, and the occasionally +friendly <!-- page 256--><a name="page256"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 256</span>altercations between the Bench and +the Bar. But the papers had written it into a <i>cause +célèbre</i>, and made it a dramatic entertainment +for the beauty and the chivalry of England. So Mr. Bumpkin +had still to wait; but it enabled him to attend comfortably the +February sittings of the Old Bailey, where his other case was to +be tried.</p> +<p>When Mr. Prigg read the account of the proceedings before the +Lord Mayor, he was very much concerned, not to say annoyed, +because he was under the impression that he ought to have been +consulted. Not knowing what to do under the circumstances, +he resolved, after due consideration, to get into a hansom and +drive down to the “Goose.” Mr. Prigg, as I have +before observed, was swift in decision and prompt in +action. He had no sooner resolved to see Bumpkin than to +Bumpkin he went. But his client was out; it was uncertain +when he would be in. Judge of Mr. Prigg’s +disappointment! He left word that he would call again; he +did call again, and, after much dodging on the part of the wily +Bumpkin, he was obliged to surrender himself a captive to honest +Prigg.</p> +<p>“My dear Mr. Bumpkin,” exclaimed he, taking both +the hands of his client into his own and yielding him a double +measure of friendship; “is it possible—have you been +robbed? Is it you in the paper this morning in this +<i>very</i> extraordinary case?”</p> +<p>Bumpkin looked and blushed. He was not a liar, but truth +is not always the most convenient thing, say what you will.</p> +<p>“I see,” said Mr. Prigg; “quite +so—quite so! Now <i>how</i> did this +happen?”</p> +<p>Bumpkin still looked and blushed.</p> +<p><!-- page 257--><a name="page257"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +257</span>“Ah!” said Mr. Prigg; “just so. +But who was this companion?”</p> +<p>Bumpkin muttered “A friend!”</p> +<p>“O! O! O!” said Mr. Prigg, drawing a long face and +placing the fore-finger of his left hand perpendicularly from the +tip of his nose to the top of his forehead.</p> +<p>“Noa,” said Bumpkin, “’taint none +o’ that nuther; I beant a man o’ that +sort.”</p> +<p>“Well, well,” said Mr. Prigg, “I only +thought I’d call, you know, in case there should be +anything which might in any way affect our action.”</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin, conscious of his moral rectitude, like all good +men, was fearless: he knew that nothing which he had done would +affect the merits of his case, and, therefore, instead of +replying to the subtle question of his adviser, he merely +enquired of that gentleman when he thought the case would be +on. The usual question.</p> +<p>Mr. Prigg rubbed his hands and glanced his eyes as though just +under his left elbow was a very deep well, at the bottom of which +lay that inestimable jewel, truth. “Really,” +Mr. Bumpkin, “I expect every hour to see us in the +paper. It’s very extraordinary; they have no less +than three Courts sitting, as I daresay you are aware. No +less than—let me see, my mind’s so full of business, +I have seven cases ready to come on. Where was I? O, +I know; I say there are no less than three Courts, under the +continuous sittings system, and yet we seem to make no progress +in the diminution of the tremendous and overwhelming mass of +business that pours in upon us.”</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin said “Hem!”</p> +<p><!-- page 258--><a name="page258"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +258</span>“You see,” continued Mr. Prigg, +“there’s one thing, we shall not last long when we do +come on.”</p> +<p>“Shan’t ur?”</p> +<p>“You see there’s only one witness, besides +yourself, on our side.”</p> +<p>“And ’eve gone for a soger,” said Mr. +Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“A soldier!” exclaimed Prigg. “A +soldier, my dear Bumpkin. No—no—you don’t +say so, really!”</p> +<p>“Ay, sure ’ave ur; and wot the devil I be to do +agin that there Snooks, as ’ll lie through a brick wall, I +beant able to say. I be pooty nigh off my chump wot +wi’ one thing and another.”</p> +<p>“Off what, sir?” enquired Mr. Prigg.</p> +<p>“Chump,” shouted Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“O, indeed, yes; dear me, you don’t say so. +Well, now I’m glad I called. I must see about +this. What regiment did you say he’d +joined?”</p> +<p>“Hoosors!”</p> +<p>“Ha! dear me, has he, indeed?” said Mr. Prigg, +noting it down in his pocket-book. “What a pity for a +young man like that to throw himself away—such an +intelligent young fellow, too, and might have done so well; dear +me!”</p> +<p>“Ha,” answered Bumpkin, “there worn’t +a better feller at plough nor thic there; and he could mend a +barrer or a ’arrer, and turn his ’and to pooty nigh +anything about t’ farm.”</p> +<p>“And is there any reason that can be assigned for this +extraordinary conduct? Wasn’t in debt, I +suppose?”</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin laughed one of his old big fireside laughs such as +he had not indulged in lately.</p> +<p>“Debt! why they wouldn’t trust un a +shoe-string. <!-- page 259--><a name="page259"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 259</span>Where the devil wur such a chap as +thic to get money to get into debt wi’?”</p> +<p>“My dear sir, we don’t want money to get into debt +with; we get into debt when we have none.”</p> +<p>“Do ur, sir. Then if I hadn’t ’ad any +money I’d like to know ’ow fur thee’d ha’ +trusted I.”</p> +<p>“Dear me,” said Mr. Prigg, “what a very +curious way of putting it! But, however, soldier or no +soldier, we must have his evidence. I must see about it: I +must go to the dépôt. Now, with regard to your +case at the Old Bailey.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said Mr. Bumpkin, rather testily; “I +be bound over to proserkit, and that be all I knows about +un. I got to give seam evidence as I guv afore the Lord +Mayor, and the Lord Mayor said as the case wur clear, and away it +went for trial.”</p> +<p>“Indeed! dear me!”</p> +<p>“And I got to tak no trouble at all about un, but to +keep my mouth shut till the case comes on, that’s what the +pleeceman told I. I bean’t to talk about un, or to +tak any money not to proserkit.”</p> +<p>“O dear, no,” said Mr. Prigg. “O dear, +dear, no; you would be compounding a felony.” (Here +Mr. Prigg made a note in his diary to this +effect:—“Attending you at ‘The Goose’ at +Westminster, when you informed me that you were the prosecutor in +a case at the Old Bailey, and in which I advised you not, under +any circumstances, to accept a compromise or money for the +purpose of withdrawing from the prosecution, and strongly +impressed upon you that such conduct would amount in law to a +misdemeanor. Long conference with you thereon, when you +promised to abide by my advice, £1 6<i>s.</i> +0<i>d.</i>”).</p> +<p><!-- page 260--><a name="page260"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +260</span>“Now,” said Bumpkin, “it seem to me +that turn which way I wool, there be too much law, too many +pitfalls; I be gettin’ sick on’t.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said Mr. Prigg, “we have only to do +our duty in that station of life in which we are called, and we +have no cause to fear. Now you know you would <i>not</i> +have liked that unprincipled man, Snooks, to have the laugh of +you, would you now?”</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin clenched his fist as he said, “Noa, +I’d sooner lose every penny I got than thic there feller +should ha’ the grin o’ me.”</p> +<p>“Quite so,” said the straightforward +moralist. “Quite so! dear me! Well, well, I +must wish you good morning, for really I am so overwhelmed with +work that I hardly know which way to turn—bye, bye. I +will take care to keep you posted up in—.” Here +Mr. Prigg’s cab drove off, and I could not ascertain +whether the posting up was to be in the state of the list or in +the lawyer’s ledger.</p> +<p>“What a nice man!” said the landlady.</p> +<p>Yes, that was Mr. Prigg’s character, go where he would: +“A nice man!”</p> +<h2><!-- page 261--><a name="page261"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 261</span>CHAPTER XXIX.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">The trial at the Old Bailey of Mr. Simple +Simonman for highway robbery with violence—Mr. Alibi +introduces himself to Mr. Bumpkin.</p> +<p>I next saw Mr. Bumpkin wandering about the precincts of that +Grand Institution, the Old Bailey, on a drizzly morning about the +middle of February, 187—, waiting to go before the Grand +Jury. As the famous prison in Scotland was called the +“Heart of Midlothian” so the Old Bailey may be +considered the Heart of Civilization. Its commanding +situation, in the very centre of a commercial population, +entitles it to this distinction; for nothing is supposed to have +so civilizing an influence as Commerce. I was always +impressed with its beautiful and picturesque appearance, +especially on a fine summer morning, during its sittings, when +the sun was pouring its brightest beams on its lively +portals. What a charming picture was presented to your +view, when the gates being open, the range of sheds on the left +met the eye, especially the centre one where the gallows is kept +packed up for future use. The gallows on the one side might +be seen and the stately carriages of my Lord Mayor and Sheriffs +on the other! Gorgeous coachmen and footmen in resplendent +liveries; magnificent civic dignitaries in elaborate liveries +too, rich with gold and bright with <!-- page 262--><a +name="page262"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 262</span>colour, +stepping forth from their carriages, amid loud cries of +“Make way!” holding in their white-gloved hands large +bouquets of the loveliest flowers, emblems of—what?</p> +<p>Crime truly has its magnificent accompaniments, and if it does +not dress itself, as of old, in the rich costumes of a Turpin or +a Duval, it is not without its beautiful surroundings. +Here, where the channels and gutters of crime converge, is built, +in the centre of the greatest commercial city in the world, the +Bailey. Mr. Bumpkin wandered about for hours through a +reeking unsavoury crowd of thieves and thieves’ companions, +idlers of every type of blackguardism, ruffians of every degree +of criminality; boys and girls receiving their finishing lessons +in crime under the dock, as they used to do only a few years ago +under the gallows. The public street is given over to the +enemies of Society; and Civilisation looks on without a shudder +or regret, as though crime were a necessity, and the Old Bailey, +in the heart of London, no disgrace.</p> +<p>And a little dirty, greasy hatted, black whiskered man, after +pushing hither and thither through this pestiferous crowd as +though he had business with everybody, but did not exactly know +what it was, at length approached Mr. Bumpkin; and after standing +a few minutes by his side eyeing him with keen hungry looks, +began that interesting conversation about the weather which seems +always so universally acceptable. Mr. Bumpkin was +tired. He had been wandering for hours in the street, and +was wondering when he should be called before the Grand +Jury. Mr. Alibi, that was the dark gentleman’s name, +knew all about Mr. Bumpkin’s case, his condition of mind, +and his impatience; and he said deferentially:</p> +<p><!-- page 263--><a name="page263"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +263</span>“You are waiting to go before the Grand Jury, I +suppose, sir?”</p> +<p>“I be,” answered Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“Where’s your policeman?” enquired +Alibi.</p> +<p>“I doant know,” said Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“What’s his number?”</p> +<p>“Sev’n hunderd and sev’nty.”</p> +<p>“O, I know,” said Alibi; “why not let me get +you before the Grand Jury at once, instead of waiting about here +all day, and perhaps to-morrow and the next day, and the day +after that; besides, the sooner you go before the Grand Jury, the +sooner your case will come on; that stands to common sense, I +think.”</p> +<p>“So ur do,” answered the farmer.</p> +<p>“You will be here a month if you don’t look +out. Have you got any counsel or solicitor?”</p> +<p>“Noa, I beant; my case be that plaain, it spaks for +itself.”</p> +<p>“Ah!” said Mr. Alibi; “they won’t +always let a case speak for itself—they very often stop +it—but if you can get a counsel for nothing, why not have +one; that stands to reason, I think?”</p> +<p>“For nothing? well that be the fust time I ever eeard +o’ a loryer as chape as thic.”</p> +<p>How it could pay was the wonder to Mr. Bumpkin. And what +a strange delusion it must seem to the mind of the general +reader! But wait, gentle peruser of this history, you shall +see this strange sight.</p> +<p>“If you like to have a counsel and a lawyer to conduct +your case, sir, it shall not cost you a farthing, I give you my +word of honour! What do you think of that?”</p> +<p>What could Mr. Bumpkin think of that? What a pity that +he had not met this gentleman before! Probably he <!-- page +264--><a name="page264"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +264</span>would have brought several actions if he had; for if +you could work the machinery of the law for nothing, you would +always stand to win.</p> +<p>“O,” said Mr. Alibi, “here is seven hundred +and seventy! This gentleman wants a counsel, and I’ve +been telling him he can have one, and it won’t cost him +anything.”</p> +<p>“That’s right enough,” said the Policeman; +“but it ain’t nothin’ to do with me!”</p> +<p>“Just step this way, sir, we’ll soon have this +case on,” said Alibi; and he led the way to the back room +of a public-house, which seemed to be used as a +“hedge” lawyer’s office.</p> +<p>“Med I mak so bold, sir; be thee a loryer?”</p> +<p>“No,” answered Alibi, “I am clerk to Mr. +Deadandgone.”</p> +<p>“And don’t Mr. Deadandam charge +nothin’?”</p> +<p>“O dear, no!”</p> +<p>What a very nice man Mr. Deadandam must be!</p> +<p>“You see,” said Alibi, “the Crown pays +us!”</p> +<p>“The Crown!”</p> +<p>And here Mr. Alibi slipped a crown-piece into the artfully +extended palm of the policeman, who said:</p> +<p>“It ain’t nothin’ to do wi’ me; but +the gentleman’s quite right, the Crown pays.” +And he dropped the money into his leather purse, which he rolled +up carefully and placed in his pocket.</p> +<p>“You see,” said Alibi, “I act as the Public +Prosecutor, who can’t be expected to do +everything—you can’t grind all the wheat in the +country in one mill, that stands to common sense.”</p> +<p>“That be right, that’s werry good,”</p> +<p>“And,” continued Mr. Alibi, “the Government +<!-- page 265--><a name="page265"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +265</span>allows two guineas for counsel, a guinea for the +solicitor, and so on, and the witnesses, don’t you +see?”</p> +<p>“Zactly!” said Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“And that’s quite enough,” continued Alibi; +“we don’t want anything from the +prosecutor—that’s right, policeman!”</p> +<p>“It ain’t nothink to do wi’ me,” said +the policeman; “but what this ’ere gentleman says is +the law.”</p> +<p>“There,” said Alibi, “I told you +so.”</p> +<p>“I spose,” said the policeman, “you +don’t want me, gentlemen; it ain’t nothink to do with +me?”</p> +<p>“Oh, no, Leary,” replied Alibi; “we +don’t want you; the case is pretty straight, I +suppose.”</p> +<p>“Oh, yes, sir; I expects it’ll be a plea of +guilty. There ain’t no defence, not as I’m +aware of.”</p> +<p>“Oh,” said Alibi, “that’s all +right—keep your witnesses together, Leary—don’t +be out of the way.”</p> +<p>“No, sir,” says Leary; “I thinks I knows my +dooty.”</p> +<p>And with this he slouched out of the room, and went and +refreshed himself at the bar.</p> +<p>In two or three minutes the policeman returned, and was in the +act of drawing the back of his hand across his mouth, when Alibi +said:</p> +<p>“Yes?”</p> +<p>“Beg pardin, sir; but there’s another gentleman +wants to see you—I thinks he wants you to defend ---; but +it ain’t nothink to do wi’ me, sir.”</p> +<p>“Very good,” answered Alibi, “very good; now +let me see—”</p> +<p>“You got the Baker’s case?” said Leary.</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Alibi; “O, +yes—embezzlement.”</p> +<p>Everything was thus far satisfactorily settled, and Mr. <!-- +page 266--><a name="page266"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +266</span>Bumpkin’s interests duly represented by Mr. +Deadandgone, an eminent practitioner. No doubt the services +of competent counsel would be procured, and the case fully +presented to the consideration of an intelligent jury.</p> +<p>Who shall say after this that the Old Bailey is <i>not</i> the +Heart of Civilization?</p> +<p>I pass over the preliminary canter of Mr. Bumpkin before the +Grand Jury; the decision of that judicial body, the finding of +the true bill, the return of the said bill in Court, the bringing +up of the prisoner for arraignment, and the fixing of the case to +be taken first on Thursday in deference to the wishes of Mr. +Nimble. I pass by all those preliminary proceedings which I +have before attempted to describe, and which, if I might employ a +racing simile, might be compared to the saddling of Mr. Bumpkin +in the paddock, where, unquestionably, he was first favourite for +the coming race, to be ridden by that excellent jockey, Alibi; +and come at once to the great and memorable trial of Regina on +the prosecution of Thomas Bumpkin against Simon Simpleman for +highway robbery with violence.</p> +<p>As the prisoner entered the dock there was a look of +unaffected innocence in his appearance that seemed to make an +impression on the learned Judge, Mr. Justice Technical, a +recently appointed Chancery barrister. I may be allowed to +mention that his Lordship had never had any experience in +Criminal Courts whatever: so he brought to the discharge of his +important duty a thoroughly unprejudiced and impartial +mind. He did not suspect that a man was guilty because he +was charged: and the respectable and harmless manner of the +accused was not interpreted by his Lordship as a piece of +consummate acting, as it would be by some Judges <!-- page +267--><a name="page267"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +267</span>who have seen much of the world as it is exhibited in +Criminal Courts.</p> +<p>Many ladies of rank were ushered in by the Sheriff, all +looking as smiling and happy as if they were about to witness the +performance of some celebrated actress for the first time; they +had fans and opera-glasses, and as they took their places in the +boxes allotted to rank and fashion, there was quite a pleasant +sensation produced in Court, and they attracted more notice for +the time being than the prisoners themselves.</p> +<p>Now these ladies were not there to witness the first piece, +the mere trial of Simpleman for highway robbery, although the +sentence might include the necessary brutality of flogging. +The afterpiece was what they had come to see—namely, a +fearful tragedy, in which two men at least were sure of being +sentenced to death. This is the nearest approach to +shedding human blood which ladies can now witness in this +country; for I do not regard pigeon slaughtering, brutal and +bloodthirsty as it is, as comparable to the sentencing of a +fellow-creature to be strangled. And no one can blame +ladies of rank if they slake their thirst for horrors in the only +way the law now leaves open to them. The Beauty of Spain is +better provided for. What a blessed thing is humanity!</p> +<p>It is due to Mr. Newboy, the counsel for the prosecution in +the great case of <i>Regina</i> v. <i>Simpleman</i>, to say that +he had only lately been called to the Bar, and only +“<i>instructed</i>,” as the prisoner was placed in +the dock. Consequently, he had not had time to read his +brief. I do not know that that was a disadvantage, inasmuch +as the brief consisted in what purported to be a copy of the +depositions so illegibly scrawled that it would have <!-- page +268--><a name="page268"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +268</span>required the most intense study to make out the meaning +of a single line.</p> +<p>Mr. Newboy was by no means devoid of ability; but no amount of +ability would give a man a knowledge of the facts of a case which +were never communicated to him. In its simplicity the +prosecution was beautifully commonplace, and five minutes’ +consideration would have been sufficient to enable counsel to +master the details and be prepared to meet the defence. +Alas, for the lack of those five minutes! The more Mr. +Newboy looked at the writing (?) the more confused he got. +All he could make out was his own name, and <i>Reg.</i> v. +<i>Somebody</i> on the back.</p> +<p>Now it happened that Mr. Alibi saw the difficulty in which Mr. +Newboy was, and knowing that his, Alibi’s, clerk, was not +remarkable for penmanship, handed to the learned counsel at the +last moment, when the last juryman was being bawled at with the +“well and truly try,” a copy of the depositions.</p> +<p>The first name at the top of the first page which caught the +eye of the learned counsel, was that of the prisoner; for the +depositions commence in such a way as to show the name of the +prisoner in close proximity to, if not among the names of +witnesses.</p> +<p>So Mr. Newboy, in his confusion, taking the name of the +prisoner as his first witness, shouted out in a bold voice, to +give himself courage, “<i>Simon Simpleman</i>.”</p> +<p>“’Ere!” answered the prisoner.</p> +<p>The learned Judge was a little astonished; and, although, he +had got his criminal law up with remarkable rapidity, his +lordship knew well enough that you cannot call the prisoner as a +witness either for or against himself. Mr. Newboy perceived +his mistake and apologised. <!-- page 269--><a +name="page269"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 269</span>The laugh, +of course, went round against him; and when it got to Mr. Nimble, +that merry gentleman slid it into the jury-box with a turn of his +eyes and a twist of his mouth. The counsel for the +prosecution being by this time pretty considerably confused, and +not being able to make out the name of a single witness on the +depositions (there were only two) called out, “The +Prosecutor.”</p> +<p>“Here, I be,” said a voice from the crowd in a +tone which provoked more laughter, all of which was turned into +the jury-box by Mr. Nimble. “Here I be” +struggled manfully with all his might and main to push through +the miscellaneous crowd of all sorts and conditions that hemmed +him in. All the arrangements at the Old Bailey, like the +arrangements at most Courts, are expressly devised for the +inconvenience of those who have business there.</p> +<p>All eyes were turned towards “<i>Here I be</i>,” +as, after much pushing and struggling as though he were in a +football match, he was thrust headlong forward by three policemen +and the crier into the body of the Court. There he stood +utterly confounded by the treatment he had undergone and the +sight that presented itself to his astonished gaze. +Opera-glasses were turned on him from the boxes, the gentlemen on +the grand tier strained their necks in order to catch a glimpse +of him; the pit, filled for the most part with young barristers, +was in suppressed ecstasies; while the gallery, packed to the +utmost limit of its capacity, broke out into unrestrained +laughter. I say, unrestrained; but as the Press truly +observed in the evening papers, “it was immediately +suppressed by the Usher.”</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin climbed into the witness-box (as though <!-- page +270--><a name="page270"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 270</span>he +were going up a rick), which was situated between the Judge and +the jury. His appearance again provoked a titter through +the Court; but it was not loud enough to call for any further +measure of suppression than the usual +“Si—lence!” loudly articulated in two widely +separated syllables by the crier, who had no sooner pronounced it +than he turned his face from the learned Judge and pressed his +hand tightly against his mouth, straining his eyes as if he had +swallowed a crown-piece. Mr. Bumpkin wore his long drab +frock overcoat, with the waist high up and its large flaps; his +hell-fire waistcoat, his trousers of corduroy, and his +shirt-collar, got up expressly for the occasion as though he had +been a prime minister. The ends of his neckerchief bore no +inconsiderable likeness to two well-grown carrots. In his +two hands he carefully nursed his large-brimmed well-shaped white +beaver hat; a useful article to hold in one’s hands when +there is any danger of nervousness, for nothing is so hard to get +rid of as one’s hands. I am not sure that Mr. Bumpkin +was nervous. He was a brave self-contained man, who had +fought the world and conquered. His maxim was, “right +is right,” and “wrong is no man’s +right.” He was of the upright and down-straight +character, and didn’t care “for all the counsellors +in the kingdom.” And why should he? His cause +was good, his conscience clear, and the story he had to tell +plain and “straightforrard” as himself. No +wonder then that his face beamed with a good old country smile, +such as he would wear at an exhibition where he could show the +largest “turmut as ever wur growed.” That was +the sort of smile he turned upon the audience. And as the +audience looked at the “turmut,” it felt that it was +indeed the most extraordinary <!-- page 271--><a +name="page271"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 271</span>specimen of +field culture it had ever beheld, and worthy of the first +prize.</p> +<p>“What is your name?” inquired Mr. Newboy; “I +mustn’t lead.”</p> +<p>“Bumpkin, and I bearned asheamed on ’im,” +answered the bold farmer.</p> +<p>“Never mind whether you are ashamed or not,” +interposed Mr. Nimble; “just answer the +question.”</p> +<p>“You must answer,” remarked the learned Judge, +“not make a speech.”</p> +<p>“Zackly, sir,” said Bumpkin, pulling at his +hair.</p> +<p>Another titter. The jury titter and hold down their +heads. Evidently there’s fun in the case.</p> +<p>Then Mr. Newboy questioned him about the occurrence; asked him +if he recollected such a day, and where he had been, and where he +was going, and a variety of other questions; the answer to every +one of which provoked fresh laughter; until, after much +floundering on the part of both himself and Mr. Newboy, as though +they were engaged in a wrestling match, he was asked by the +learned Judge “to tell them exactly what happened. +Let him tell his own story,” said the Judge.</p> +<p>“Ha!” said everybody; “now we shall hear +something!”</p> +<p>“I wur a gwine,” began Bumpkin, +“hoame—”</p> +<p>“That’s not evidence,” said Mr. Nimble.</p> +<p>“How so?” asks the Judge.</p> +<p>“It doesn’t matter where he was going to, my lord, +but where he was!”</p> +<p>“Well, that is so,” says the Judge; “you +mustn’t tell us, Mr. Bumpkin, whither you were going, but +where you were!”</p> +<p><!-- page 272--><a name="page272"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +272</span>Bumpkin scratched his head; there were too many +where’s for him.</p> +<p>“Can’t yon tell us,” says Mr. Newboy, +“where you were?”</p> +<p>“Where I were?” says Bumpkin.</p> +<p>A roar of laughter greeted this statement. Mr. Nimble +turning it into the jury-box like a flood.</p> +<p>“I wur in Lunnun—”</p> +<p>“Yes—yes,” says his counsel; “but what +locality?”</p> +<p>You might just as well have put him under a mangle, as to try +to get evidence out of him like that.</p> +<p>“Look,” says the Judge, “attend to me; if +you go on like that, you will not be allowed your +expenses.”</p> +<p>“What took place?” asks his counsel; +“can’t you tell us, man?”</p> +<p>“Why the thief cotch—”</p> +<p>“I object,” says Mr. Nimble; “you +mustn’t call him a thief; it is for the jury, my lord, to +determine that.”</p> +<p>“That is so,” says my lord; “you +mustn’t call him a thief, Mr. Bumpkin.”</p> +<p>“Beg pardon, your lord; but ur stole my +watch.”</p> +<p>“No—no,” says Mr. Newboy; “took your +watch.”</p> +<p>“An if ur took un, ur stole un, I allows,” says +Bumpkin; “for I never gin it to un.”</p> +<p>There was so much laughter that for some time nothing further +was said; but every audience knows better than to check the +source of merriment by a continued uproar; so it waited for +another supply.</p> +<p>“You must confine yourself,” says the Judge, +“to telling us what took place.”</p> +<p>“I’ll spak truth and sheam t’ devil,” +says Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“Now go on,” says Newboy.</p> +<p><!-- page 273--><a name="page273"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +273</span>“The thief stole my watch, and that be t’ +plain English on ’t.”</p> +<p>“I shall have to commit you to prison,” says the +Judge, “if you go on like that; remember you are upon your +oath, and it’s a very serious thing—serious for you +and serious for the young man at the bar.”</p> +<p>At these touching words, the young man at the bar burst out +crying, said “he was a respectable man, and it was all got +up against him;” whereupon Mr. Nimble said “he must +be quiet, and that his lordship and the gentlemen in the box +would take care of him and not allow him to be trampled +on.”</p> +<p>“You are liable,” said the Judge, “to be +prosecuted for perjury if you do not tell the truth.”</p> +<p>“Well, then, your lord, if a man maun goo to prison for +losin’ his watch, I’ll goo that’s all; but that +ere man stole un.”</p> +<p>Mr. Newboy: “He took it, did he?”</p> +<p>“I object,” said Mr. Nimble; “that is a +leading question.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said the Judge; “I think that is +rather leading,” Mr. Newboy; “you may vary the form +though, and ask him whether the prisoner stole it.”</p> +<p>“Really, my lord,” said Mr. Nimble, “that, +with very great respect, is as leading as the other +form.”</p> +<p>“Not quite, I think, Mr. Nimble. You see in the +other form, you make a positive assertion that he did steal it; +in this, you merely ask the question.”</p> +<p>And I saw that this was a very keen and subtle distinction, +such as could only be drawn by a Chancery Judge.</p> +<p>“Would it not be better, my lord, if he told us what +took place?”</p> +<p><!-- page 274--><a name="page274"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +274</span>“That is what he is doing,” said the Judge; +“go on, witness.”</p> +<p>“I say as ’ow thic feller comed out and hugged up +aginst I and took ’t watch and runned away. I +arter’d him, and met him coomin’ along wi’ it +in ’s pocket; what can be plaainer an thic?”</p> +<p>There was great laughter as Mr. Bumpkin shook his head at the +learned counsel for the defence, and thumped one hand upon the +ledge in front of him.</p> +<p>“That will do,” said Mr. Newboy, sitting down +triumphantly.</p> +<p>Then the counsel for the defence arose, and a titter again +went round the Court, and there was a very audible adjustment of +persons in preparation for the treat that was to come.</p> +<p>“May the prisoner have a seat, my lord?”</p> +<p>“Oh, certainly,” said his lordship; “let an +easy-chair be brought immediately.”</p> +<p>“Now then, Mr. Bumpkin, or whatever your name is, +don’t lounge on the desk like that, but just stand up and +attend to me. Stand up, sir, and answer my +questions,” says Mr. Nimble.</p> +<p>“I be standin’ oop,” said Bumpkin, +“and I can answer thee; ax away.”</p> +<p>“Just attend,” said the Judge. “You +must not go on like that. You are here to answer questions +and not to make speeches. If you wish those gentlemen to +believe you, you must conduct yourself in a proper manner. +Remember this is a serious charge, and you are upon your +oath.”</p> +<p>Poor Bumpkin! Never was there a more friendless position +than that of Ignorance in the witness-box.</p> +<p><!-- page 275--><a name="page275"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +275</span>“Just attend!” repeated Mr. Nimble; this +was a favourite expression of his.</p> +<p>“How may aliases have you?”</p> +<p>“Ow many who?” asked Bumpkin. (Roars of +laughter.)</p> +<p>“How many different names?”</p> +<p>“Naames! why I s’pose I got two, like moast +people.”</p> +<p>“How many more?”</p> +<p>“None as iver I knowed of.”</p> +<p>“Wait a bit, we shall see. Now, sir, will you +swear you have never gone by the name of Pumpkin?”</p> +<p>Loud laughter, in which the learned judge tried not to +join.</p> +<p>“Never!”</p> +<p>“Do you swear it?”</p> +<p>“I do.”</p> +<p>“My lord, would you kindly let me see the +depositions. Now look here, sir, is that your +signature?”</p> +<p>“I ain’t much of a scollard.”</p> +<p>“No; but you can make a cross, I suppose.”</p> +<p>“Ay, I can make a cross, or zummut in imitation as well +as any man.”</p> +<p>“Look at that, is that your cross?”</p> +<p>“It look like un.”</p> +<p>“Now then, sir; when you were before the Lord Mayor, I +ask you, upon your oath, did you not give the name of +Pumpkin?”</p> +<p>“Noa, I din’t!”</p> +<p>“Was this read over to you, and were you asked if it was +correct?”</p> +<p>“It med be.”</p> +<p>“Med be; but wasn’t it? You know it was, or, +don’t you?”</p> +<p><!-- page 276--><a name="page276"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +276</span>Bumpkin seemed spiked, so silent; seemed on fire, so +red.</p> +<p>“Well, we know it was so. Now, my lord, I call +your lordship’s attention to this remarkable fact; here in +the depositions he calls himself Pumpkin.”</p> +<p>His lordship looks carefully at the depositions and says that +certainly is so.</p> +<p>Mr. Newboy rises and says he understands that it may be a +mistake of the clerk’s.</p> +<p>Judge: “How can you say that, Mr. Newboy, when +it’s in his affidavit?”</p> +<p>(Clerk of Arraigns whispers to his lordship.) “I +mean in his depositions, as I am told they are called in this +Court; these are read over to him by the clerk, and he is asked +if they are correct.” Shakes his head.</p> +<p>(So they began to try the prisoner, not so much on the merits +of the case as on the merits of the magistrate’s +clerk.)</p> +<p>“You certainly said your name was Pumpkin,” said +the Judge, “and what is more you swore to it.”</p> +<p>(“They’ve got the round square at work,” +muttered a voice in the gallery.)</p> +<p>Mr. Nimble: “Now just attend; have you ever gone so far +as to say that this case did not refer to you because your name +was not Bumpkin?”</p> +<p>The witness hesitates, then says “he b’leeves +not.”</p> +<p>“Let those two gentlemen, Mr. Crackcrib and Mr. +Centrebit, step forward.”</p> +<p>There was a bustle in Court, and then, with grinning faces, up +stepped the two men who had visited Mr. Bumpkin at the +“Goose” some days before.</p> +<p>“Have you ever seen these gentlemen before?” asks +the learned counsel.</p> +<p>The gentlemen alluded to looked up as if they had <!-- page +277--><a name="page277"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +277</span>practised it together, and both grinned. How can +Mr. Bumpkin’s confusion be described? His under jaw +fell, and his head drooped; he was like one caught in a net +looking at the fowler.</p> +<p>The question was repeated, and Mr. Bumpkin wiped his face and +returned his handkerchief into the depths of his hat, into which +he would have liked to plunge also.</p> +<p>Question repeated in a tone that conveyed the impression that +witness was one of the biggest scoundrels in the Heart of +Civilization.</p> +<p>“You must really answer,” says the Judge.</p> +<p>“They be put on, your lordship.”</p> +<p>“No, no,” says the counsel, “you +mustn’t say that, I’ll have an answer. Have you +seen them before?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” muttered the prosecutor.</p> +<p>“Let them go out of Court. Now then,” says +the counsel, extending his right hand and his forefinger and +leaning towards the witness, +“have—you—not—told—them—that—this +case was nothing to do with you as your name wasn’t +Bumpkin?”</p> +<p>“My lord,” says the witness.</p> +<p>“No, no; you must answer.”</p> +<p>The witness stood confounded.</p> +<p>“You decline to answer,” says the counsel. +“Very well; now then, let me see if you will decline to +answer this. When you were robbed, as you say, was anybody +with you?”</p> +<p>“Be I obligated to answer, my lord?”</p> +<p>“I think you must answer,” said his lordship.</p> +<p>“There wur.”</p> +<p>“Who was it?”</p> +<p>“A companion, I s’poase.”</p> +<p>“Yes, but who was he? what was his name?”</p> +<p><!-- page 278--><a name="page278"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +278</span>No answer.</p> +<p>“You’d rather not answer; very well. Where +does he live?”</p> +<p>“I doant know. Westmunster, I believe.”</p> +<p>“Is he here?”</p> +<p>“Not as I knows on.”</p> +<p>(“What a lark this is,” chuckled the Don, as he +sat in the corner of the gallery peeping from behind the front +row.)</p> +<p>“Did he see the watch taken?”</p> +<p>“He did, leastways I s’poase so.”</p> +<p>“And has never appeared as a witness?”</p> +<p>“How is that?” asks his lordship.</p> +<p>“He axed me, m’lud, not to say as ’ow he wur +in it.”</p> +<p>Judge shakes his head. Counsel for the prisoner shakes +his head at the jury, and the jury shake their heads at one +another.</p> +<p>Now in the front row of the gallery sat five young men in the +undress uniform of the hussars: they were Joe and his brother +recruits come to hear the famous trial. At this moment Mr. +Bumpkin in sheer despair lifted his eyes in the direction of the +gallery and immediately caught sight of his old servant. He +gave a nod of recognition as if he were the only friend left in +the wide world of that Court of Justice.</p> +<p>“Never mind your friends in the gallery,” said Mr. +Nimble; “I dare say you have plenty of them about; now +attend to this question:”—Yes, and a nice question it +was, considering the tone and manner with which it was +asked. “At the moment when you were being robbed, as +you say, did a young woman with a baby in her arms come +up?”</p> +<p>The witness’s attention was again distracted, but this +<!-- page 279--><a name="page279"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +279</span>time by no such pleasing object as on the former +occasion. He was dumbfoundered; a sparrow facing an owl +could hardly be in a greater state of nervousness and +discomfiture: for down in the well of the Court, a place where he +had never once cast his eyes till now, with a broad grin on his +coarse features, and a look of malignant triumph, sat the +<i>fiendlike Snooks</i>! His mouth was wide open, and +Bumpkin found himself looking down into it as though it had been +a saw-pit. By his side sat Locust taking notes of the +cross-examination.</p> +<p>“What are you looking at, Mr. Bumpkin?” inquired +the learned counsel.</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin started.</p> +<p>“What are you looking at?”</p> +<p>“I wur lookin’ doun thic there hole in thic +feller’s head,” answered Bumpkin.</p> +<p>Such a roar of laughter followed this speech as is seldom +heard even in a breach of promise case, where the most touching +pathos often causes the greatest amusement to the audience.</p> +<p>“What a lark!” said Harry.</p> +<p>“As good as a play,” responded Dick.</p> +<p>“I be sorry for the old chap,” said Joe; +“they be givin’ it to un pooty stiff.”</p> +<p>“Now attend,” said the counsel, “and never +mind the hole. Did a young woman with a baby come +up?”</p> +<p>“To the best o’ my b’leef.”</p> +<p>“Don’t say to the best of your belief; did she or +not?”</p> +<p>“He can only speak to the best of his belief,” +said the Judge.</p> +<p>(“There’s the round square,” whispered +O’Rapley.)</p> +<p>“Did she come up then to the best of your +belief?”</p> +<p><!-- page 280--><a name="page280"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +280</span>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“And—did—she—accuse—you—to +the best of your belief of assaulting her?”</p> +<p>“I be a married man,” answered the witness. +(Great laughter.)</p> +<p>“Yes, we know all about you; we’ll see who you are +presently. Did she accuse you, and did you run +away?”</p> +<p>“I runned arter thic feller.”</p> +<p>“No, no; did she accuse you?”</p> +<p>“She might.”</p> +<p>The learned counsel then sat down with the quickest motion +imaginable, and then the policeman gave his evidence as to taking +the man into custody; and produced the huge watch. Mr. +Bumpkin was recalled and asked how long he had had it, and where +he bought it; the only answers to which were that he had had it +five years, and bought it of a man in the market; did not know +who he was or where he came from; all which answers looked very +black against Mr. Bumpkin. Then the policeman was asked to +answer this question—yes or no. “Did he know +the prisoner?” He said “No.”</p> +<p>Mr. Nimble said to the jury, “Here was a man dressing +himself up as an old man from the country (laughter) prowling +about the streets of London in company with an associate whose +name he dared not mention, and who probably was well-known to the +police; here was this countryman actually accused of committing +an assault in the public streets on a young woman with a baby in +her arms: he runs away as hard as his legs will carry him and +meets a man who is actually wearing the watch that this Bumpkin +or Pumpkin charges him with stealing. He, the learned +counsel, would call witness after witness <!-- page 281--><a +name="page281"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 281</span>to speak to +the character of his client, who was an engraver (I believe he +was an engraver of bank notes); he would call witness after +witness who would tell them how long they had known him, and how +long he had had the watch; and, curiously enough, such curious +things did sometimes almost providentially take place in a Court +of Justice, he would call the very man that poor Mr. Simpleman +had purchased it of five years ago, when he was almost, as you +might say, in the first happy blush of boyhood (that ‘blush +of boyhood’ went down with many of the jury who were fond +of pathos); let the jury only fancy! but really would it be +safe—really would it be safe, let him ask them upon their +consciences, which in after life, perhaps years to come, when +their heads were on their pillows, and their hands upon their +hearts, (here several of the jury audibly sniffed), would those +consciences upbraid, or would those consciences approve them for +their work to-day? would it be safe to convict after the +exhibition the prosecutor had made of himself in that box, where, +he ventured to say, Bumpkin stood self-condemned before that +intelligent jury.”</p> +<p>Here the intelligent jury turned towards one another, and +after a moment or two announced, through their foreman (who was a +general-dealer in old metal, in a dark street over the water), +that if they heard a witness or two to the young man’s +character that would be enough for them.</p> +<p>Witnesses, therefore, were called to character, and the young +man was promptly acquitted, the jury appending to their verdict +that he left the Court without a stain upon his character.</p> +<p>“Bean’t I ’lowed to call witnesses to +charickter?” asks the Prosecutor.</p> +<p><!-- page 282--><a name="page282"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +282</span>“Oh, no,” replied Mr. Nimble; “we +know your character pretty well.”</p> +<p>“What’s that?” inquired the Judge.</p> +<p>“He wants to know, my lord,” says Mr. Nimble, +laughing, “if he may call witnesses to +character!”</p> +<p>“Oh dear, no,” says the Judge; “you were not +being tried.”</p> +<p>Now many persons might have been of a different opinion from +his lordship on this point. Snooks for one, I think; for he +gave a great loud vulgar haw! haw! haw! and said, “I could +ha’ gien him a charakter.”</p> +<p>“Si-lence!” said the Usher.</p> +<p>“May the prisoner have his watch, my lord?” asks +Mr. Nimble.</p> +<p>“O, yes,” said his lordship, “to be +sure. Give the prisoner his watch.”</p> +<p>“<i>His</i> watch,” groaned a voice.</p> +<h2><!-- page 283--><a name="page283"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 283</span>CHAPTER XXX.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Mr. Alibi is stricken with a +thunderbolt—interview with Horatio and Mr. Prigg.</p> +<p>The “round square,” as the facetious Don called +the new style of putting the round judicial pegs into the square +judicial holes, had indeed been applied with great effect on this +occasion; for I perceived that Mr. Alibi, remarkable man, was not +only engaged on the part of the Crown to prosecute, but also on +that of the prisoner to defend. And this fact came to my +knowledge in the manner following:</p> +<p>When Mr. Bumpkin got into the lower part of that magnificent +pile of buildings which we have agreed to call the Heart of +Civilisation, he soon became the centre of a dirty mob of +undersized beings who were anxious to obtain a sight of him; and +many of whom were waiting to congratulate their friend, the +engraver. Amidst the crowd was Mr. Alibi. That +gentleman had no intention of meeting Mr. Bumpkin any more, for +certain expenses were due to him as a witness, and it had long +been a custom at the Old Bailey, that if the representative of +the Crown did not see the witnesses the expenses due to them +would fall into the Consolidated Fund, so that it was a clear +gain to the State if its representative officers did not meet the +witnesses. On this occasion, however, Mr. Alibi ran against +his client <!-- page 284--><a name="page284"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 284</span>accidentally, and being a courteous +gentleman, could not forbear condoling with him on the +unsuccessful termination of his case.</p> +<p>“You, see,” began Mr. Alibi, “I was +instructed so late—really, the wonder is, when gentlemen +don’t employ a solicitor till the last moment, how we ever +lay hold of the facts at all. Now look at your case, +sir. Yes, yes, I’m coming—bother my clerks, how +they worry—I’ll be there directly.”</p> +<p>“But thic feller,” said Mr. Bumpkin, “who +had my case din’t know nowt about it. I could +ha’ done un better mysel.”</p> +<p>“Ah, sir; so we are all apt to think. He’s a +most clever man, that—a very rising man, sir.”</p> +<p>“Be he?” said Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“Why, do you know, sir,” continued Mr. Alibi, +“he was very great at his University.”</p> +<p>“That bean’t everything, though, by a long +way.”</p> +<p>“No, sir, granted, granted. But he was Number Four +in his boat; and the papers all said his feathering was +beautiful.”</p> +<p>“A good boatman, wur he?”</p> +<p>“Magnificent, sir; magnificent!”</p> +<p>“Then he’d better keep a ferry; bean’t no +good at law.”</p> +<p>“Ah! I am afraid you are a little prejudiced. +He’s a very learned man.”</p> +<p>“I wish he’d larned to open his mouth. Why, +I got a duck can quack a devilish sight better un thic feller can +talk.”</p> +<p>“Ha, how d’ye do, Mr. Swindle?” said a +shabby-looking gentleman, who came up at this moment.</p> +<p><!-- page 285--><a name="page285"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +285</span>“Excuse me, sir; but you have the advantage of +me,” said Alibi, winking.</p> +<p>“Dear me, how very strange, I thought you were Mr. +Wideawake’s representative.”</p> +<p>“Ah!” said Mr. Alibi, laughing, “we are +often taken for brothers—and yet, would you believe me, +there is no relationship.”</p> +<p>“No?” said the gentleman.</p> +<p>“None, whatever. I think you’ll find him in +the Second Court, if not, he’ll be there in a short +time. I saw him only just now.”</p> +<p>That is how I learned that Mr. Alibi represented the Crown and +Mr. Deadandgone for the prosecutor; also the prisoner, and Mr. +Wideawake for the defence. Clever man!</p> +<p>“Now,” said Mr. Bumpkin, “Can’t un get +a new trial?”</p> +<p>“I fear not,” said Alibi; “but I should not +be in the least surprised if that Wideawake, who represented the +prisoner, brought an action against you for false imprisonment +and malicious prosecution.”</p> +<p>“What, thic thief?”</p> +<p>“Ah, sir—law is a very deep pit—it’s +depth is not to be measured by any moral plummet.”</p> +<p>“Doan’t ’zacly zee’t.”</p> +<p>“Well, it’s this,” said Mr. Alibi. +“Whether you’re right or whether you’re wrong, +if he brings an action you must defend it—it’s not +your being in the right will save you.”</p> +<p>“Then, what wool?” asked Mr. Bumpkin.</p> +<p>Mr. Alibi did not know, unless it was instructing him in due +time and not leaving it to the last moment. That seemed the +only safe course.</p> +<p><!-- page 286--><a name="page286"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +286</span>Mr. Bumpkin took off his hat, drew out his +handkerchief, and wiped the perspiration from his forehead. +Then he breathed heavily. Now at this moment a strange +phenomenon occurred, not to be passed over in this truthful +history. Past Mr. Bumpkin’s ear something shot, in +appearance like a human fist, in velocity like a thunderbolt, and +unfortunately it alighted full on the nose and eye of the great +Mr. Alibi, causing that gentleman to reel back into the arms of +the faithful thieves around. I cannot tell from what +quarter it proceeded, it was so sudden, but I saw that in the +neighbourhood whence it came stood five tall hussars, and I heard +a voice say:</p> +<p>“Now, look at that. Come on, Maister, don’t +let us git into no row.”</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin, with the politeness of his nature, said:</p> +<p>“Good marnin’, sir,” and retired.</p> +<p>And thus thought the unfortunate prosecutor: “This +’ere country be all law, actions grows out o’ +actions, like that ’ere cooch that runs all over +everywhere’s.” And then he saw the five +recruits strutting along with their caps at the side of their +heads, the straps across their chins, their riding-whips under +their arms, and walking with such a swagger that one would have +thought they had just put down a rebellion, or set up a +throne.</p> +<p>It was some time before, in the confusion of his mind, the +disappointed Bumpkin could realize the fact that there was any +connection between him and the military. But as he looked, +with half-closed eyes, suddenly the thought crossed his mind: +“Why, that be like our Joe—that middle un.”</p> +<p>And so it was: they were walking at a fastish pace, and as +they strutted along Joe seemed to be marching <!-- page 287--><a +name="page287"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 287</span>away with +the whole farm and with all the pleasures of his past life. +Even Mrs. Bumpkin herself, in some extraordinary manner, seemed +to be eloping with him. Why was it? And now, +despondent, disappointed and humiliated, with his blood once more +up, poor old Bumpkin bethought himself seriously of his +position. For weeks he had been waiting for his case to +“come on”; weeks more might pass idly away unless he +made a stir. So he would call at the office of Mr. +Prigg. And being an artful man, he had a reason for calling +without further delay. It was this: his desire to see Prigg +before that gentleman should hear of his defeat. Prigg +would certainly blame him for not employing a solicitor, or going +to the Public Prosecutor. So to Prigg’s he went about +three o’clock on that Thursday afternoon. I do not +undertake to describe furniture, so I say nothing of +Prigg’s dingy office, except this, that if Prigg had been a +spider, it was just the sort of corner in which I should have +expected him to spin his web. Being a man of enormous +practice, and in all probability having some fifty to sixty +representatives of county families to confer with, two hours +elapsed before Mr. Bumpkin could be introduced. The place, +small as it was, was filled with tin boxes bearing, no doubt, +eminent names. Horatio was busy copying drafts of marriage +settlements, conveyances, and other matters of great +importance. He had little time for gossip because his work +seemed urgent, and although he was particularly glad to see Mr. +Bumpkin, yet being a lad of strict adherence to duty, he always +replied courteously, but in the smallest number of words to that +gentleman’s questions.</p> +<p>“Will ur be long?” asked the client; “I +don’t think so,” said Horatio.</p> +<p><!-- page 288--><a name="page288"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +288</span>Then in a whisper, asked Mr. Bumpkin, “How does +thee think, sir, we shall get on: win, shan’t +us?”</p> +<p>Horatio just raised his face from the paper and winked, as +though he were conveying a valuable secret.</p> +<p>“Have ur heard anythink, sir?”</p> +<p>Another artful wink.</p> +<p>“Thee know’s zummat, I knows thee do.”</p> +<p>Another artful wink.</p> +<p>“Thee can tell I, surely? I wunt let un goo no +furder.”</p> +<p>Horatio winked once more, and made a face at the door where +the great Prigg was supposed to be.</p> +<p>“Ain’t give in, ave ur?”</p> +<p>Horatio put his finger in his mouth and made a popping noise +as he pulled it out.</p> +<p>“What the devil does thee mean, lad? there be zummat up, +I’ll swear.”</p> +<p>“Hush! hush!”</p> +<p>“Now, look here,” said Bumpkin, taking out his +purse; “thee beest a good chap, and writ out thic brief, +didn’t thee? I got zummat for thee;” and +hereupon he handed Horatio half-a-crown.</p> +<p>The youth took the money, spun it into the air, caught it in +the palm of his hand, spat on it for good luck, and put it in his +pocket</p> +<p>“I’ll have a spree with that,” said he, +“if I never do again.”</p> +<p>“Be careful, lad,” said Bumpkin, +“don’t fool un away.”</p> +<p>“Not I,” said Horatio; “I’m on for the +Argille tonight, please the pigs.”</p> +<p>“Be thic a place o’ wusship” said Bumpkin, +laughing.</p> +<p><!-- page 289--><a name="page289"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +289</span>“Not exactly,” answered Horatio; +“it’s a place where you can just do the gentleman on +the cheap, shoulder it with noblemen’s sons, and some of +the highest. Would you like to go now, just for a +lark? I’m sure you’d like it.”</p> +<p>“Not I,” said the client; “this ’ere +Lunnun life doan’t do for I.’.’</p> +<p>“Yes; but this is a nice quiet sort of place.”</p> +<p>“Gals, I spoase.”</p> +<p>“Rather; I believe you my boy; stunners too.”</p> +<p>“Thee be too young, it’s my thinking.”</p> +<p>“Well, that’s what the Governor says; everybody +says I’m too young; but I hope to mend that fault, Master +Bumpkin, if I don’t get the better of any other.”</p> +<p>“I wish I wur as old in the ’ead; but tell I, lad, +hast thee ’eard anything? Thee might just as well +tell I; it wunt goo no furder.”</p> +<p>Horatio put his finger to his nose and made a number of dumb +signs, expressive of more than mere words could convey.</p> +<p>“Danged if I can mak’ thee out,” said +Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“You recollect that ride we had in the gig.”</p> +<p>“Ha, now it’s coming,” thought he; “I +shall have un now,” so he answered: “Well, it wur +nice, wurn’t ur?”</p> +<p>“Never enjoyed myself more in my life,” rejoined +Horatio; “what a nice morning it was!”</p> +<p>“Beautiful!”</p> +<p>“And do you recollect the rum and milk?”</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin remembered it.</p> +<p>“Well, I believe that rum and milk was the luckiest +investment you ever made. Hallo! there’s the +bell—hush, <i>mither woy</i>!”</p> +<p><!-- page 290--><a name="page290"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +290</span>“Dang thee!” said Bumpkin, +“thee’s got un;” and he followed the youthful +clerk into Mr. Prigg’s room.</p> +<p>There sat that distinguished lawyer with his respectable head, +in his easy chair, much worn, both himself and the chair, by +constant use. There sat the good creature ready to offer +himself up on the altar of Benevolence for the good of the first +comer. His collar was still unruffled, so was his temper, +notwithstanding the severe strain of the county families. +There was his clear complexion indicating the continued health +resulting from a well-spent life. His almost angelic +features were beautiful rather in the amiability of their +expression than in their loveliness of form. Anyone looking +at him for the first time must exclaim, “Dear me, what a +<i>nice</i> man!”</p> +<p>“Well, Mr. Bumpkin,” said he, extending his left +hand lazily as though it were the last effort of exhausted +humanity, “how are we now?”—always identifying +himself with Bumpkin, as though he should say “We are in +the same boat, brother; come what may, we sink or swim +together—how are we now?”</p> +<p>“Bean’t wery well,” answered Mr. Bumpkin, +“I can tell ’ee.”</p> +<p>“What’s the matter? dear me, why, what’s the +matter? We must be cool, you know. Nothing like +coolness, if we are to win our battle.”</p> +<p>“Lookee ’ere,” said Bumpkin; “lookee +’ere, sir; I bin here dordlin’ about off an’ on +six weeks, and this ’ere dam trial—”</p> +<p>“Sh—sh!” remonstrated Mr. Prigg with the +softest voice, and just lifting his left hand on a level with his +forehead. “Let us learn resignation, good Mr. +Bumpkin. Let us learn it at the feet of disappointment and +losses and crosses.”</p> +<p><!-- page 291--><a name="page291"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +291</span>“Yes, yes,” said Bumpkin; “but thic +larnin’ be spensive, I be payin’ for it.”</p> +<p>“Mr. Bumpkin,” said the good man sternly, +“the dispensations of Providence are not to be denounced in +this way. You are a man, Bumpkin; let us act, then, the +man’s part. You see these boxes, these names: they +represent men who have gone through the furnace; let us be +patient.”</p> +<p>“But I be sick on it. I wish I’d never +know’d what law wur.”</p> +<p>“Ah, sir, most of us would like to exist in that state +of wild and uncultured freedom which only savages and beasts are +permitted to enjoy; but life has higher aims, Mr. Bumpkin; +grander pursuits; more sublime duties.”</p> +<p>“Well, sir, I bean’t no schollard and so +can’t argify; but if thee plase to tell I, sir, when this +case o’ mine be likely to come on—”</p> +<p>“I was just that minute going to write to you, Mr. +Bumpkin, as your name was announced, to say that it would not be +taken until next term.”</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin uttered an exclamation which is not for print, and +which caused the good Prigg to clap his hands to his ears and +press them tightly for five minutes. Then he took them away +and rubbed them together (I mean his hands), as though he were +washing them from the contaminating influence of Mr. +Bumpkin’s language.</p> +<p>“Quite so,” he said, mechanically; “dear +me!”</p> +<p>“What be quite so,” asked Mr. Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“Yes—yes—you see,” said Prigg, +“Her Majesty’s Judges have to go circuit; or, as it +is technically called, jail delivery.”</p> +<p>“They be allays gwine suckitt.”</p> +<p><!-- page 292--><a name="page292"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +292</span>“Quite so. That is precisely what the +profession is always observing. No sooner do they return +from one circuit than they start off on another. Are you +aware, Mr. Bumpkin, that we pay a judge five thousand a-year to +try a pickpocket?”</p> +<p>“Hem!” said Bumpkin, “I bean’t aware +on it. Never used t’ have so many o’ these +’ere—what d’ye call ’ems?”</p> +<p>“Circuits. No—but you see, here now is an +instance. There’s a prisoner away somewhere, I think +down at Bodmin, hundreds of miles off, and I believe he has sent +to say that they must come down and try him at once, for he +can’t wait.”</p> +<p>“I’d mak’ un wait. Why should honest +men wait for sich as he? I bin waitin’ long +enough.”</p> +<p>“Quite so. And the consequence is that the Lord +Chief Justice of England is going down to try him, a common +pickpocket, I believe, and his Lordship is the very head of the +Judicial Body.”</p> +<p>“Hem!” said Mr. Bumpkin; “then I may as well +goo hoame?”</p> +<p>“Quite so,” answered the amiable Prigg; “in +fact, better—much better.”</p> +<p>“An’ we shan’t come on now, sir; +bean’t there no chance?”</p> +<p>“Not the least, my dear sir; but you see we have not +been idle; we have been advancing, in fact, during the whole time +that has seemed to you so long. Now, just look, my dear +sir; we have fought no less than ten appeals, right up, mind you, +to the Court of Appeal itself; we have fought two demurrers; we +have compelled them three times to give better answers to our +interrogatories, and we have had fourteen other <!-- page +293--><a name="page293"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +293</span>summonses at Chambers on which they have not thought +proper to appeal beyond the Judge. Now, Mr. Bumpkin, after +that, I <i>think</i> you ought to be satisfied; but really that +is one of the most disparaging things in the profession, the most +disparaging, I may say; we find it so difficult to show our +clients that we have done enough for them.”</p> +<p>“An’ thee think, sir, as we shall win un?” +said Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“Well,” said Mr. Prigg, “I never like to +prophesy; but if ever a case looked like winning it’s +<i>Bumpkin</i> v. <i>Snooks</i>. And I may tell you this, +Mr. Bumpkin, only pray don’t say that I told +you.”</p> +<p>“What be thic, sir?” asked the eager client, with +his eyes open as widely as ever client’s can be.</p> +<p>“The other side are in a tre-<i>men</i>-dous +way!”</p> +<p>“What, funkin’, be um? I said so. That +there Snooks be a rank bad un—now, then, we’ll at un +like steam.”</p> +<p>“All in good time, Bumpkin,” said the worthy +Prigg, affectionately taking his client’s hand. +“All in good time. My kind regards to Mrs. +Bumpkin. I suppose you return to-night?”</p> +<p>“Ay, sir, I be off by the fust train. Good day +t’ ye, sir; good day and thankee.”</p> +<p>Thus comforted and thus grateful did the confiding client take +leave of his legal adviser, who immediately took down his +costs-book and booked a long conference, including the two hours +that Mr. Bumpkin was kept in the “outer +office.” This followed immediately after another +“long conference with you when you thought we should be in +the paper to-morrow from what a certain Mr. O’Rapley had +told you, and I thought we should not.”</p> +<p><!-- page 294--><a name="page294"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +294</span>As he passed through the “outer office” he +shook. Horatio by the hand. “Good-bye, +sir. I knows what it wur now—bean’t +comin’ on.”</p> +<p>“Don’t say I told you,” said the pale boy, +as though he were afraid of communicating some tremendous +secret.</p> +<p>“Noa, thee bean’t told I. Now, lookee +’ere, Mr. Jigger, come down when thee like; I shall be rare +and prood to see thee, and so’ll Missus.”</p> +<p>“Thanks,” said Horatio; “I’ll be sure +and come. <i>Mither woy</i>!”</p> +<p>“Ha! mither woy, lad! that’s ur; thee got +un. Good-bye.”</p> +<h2><!-- page 295--><a name="page295"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 295</span>CHAPTER XXXI.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Mr. Bumpkin at home again.</p> +<p>How peaceful the farm seemed after all the turmoil and worry +that Farmer Bumpkin had been subjected to in London! What a +haven of rest is a peaceful Home! How the ducks seemed to +quack!—louder, as Mr. Bumpkin thought, than they ever did +before. The little flock of sheep looked up as he went, +with his old ash stick under his arm, to look round the +farm. They seemed to say to one another, “Why, +here’s Master; I told you he’d come +back.” And the cows turned their heads and bellowed a +loud welcome. They knew nothing of his troubles, and only +expressed their extreme pleasure at seeing him again. They +left off eating the whole time he was with them; for they were +very well bred Shorthorns and Alderneys. It was quite +pleasant to see how well behaved they all were. And Mrs. +Bumpkin pointed out which ones had calved and which were expected +to calve in the course of a few months. And then the +majestic bull looked up with an expression of immense delight; +came up to Mr. Bumpkin and put his nose in his master’s +hand, and gazed as only a bull would gaze on a farmer who had +spent several weeks in London. It was astonishing with what +admiration the bull regarded him; and he seemed quite delighted +as Mrs. Bumpkin told her husband of the bull’s good conduct +in his absence; how he had never broken bounds once, <!-- page +296--><a name="page296"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +296</span>and had behaved himself as an exemplary bull on all +occasions.</p> +<p>“But,” said Mrs. Bumpkin, “I be +’bliged to say, Tom, that there Mrs. Snooks have belied him +shamefully. She haven’t got a good word to say for +un; nor, for the matter o’ that, for anything on the +farm.”</p> +<p>“Never mind,” said Mr. Bumpkin; “he +bean’t the only one as ’ave been slandered +hereabouts.”</p> +<p>“No, Tom, sure enough; but we bean’t ’bliged +to heed un.”</p> +<p>“No, nor wun’t. And now here come +Tim.”</p> +<p>To see Tim run and bound and leap and put his paws round Mr. +Bumpkin’s neck and lick him, was a sight which must have +made up for a great deal of the unkindness which he had +experienced of late. Nor could any dog say more plainly +than Tim did, how he had had a row with that ill-natured cur of +Snooks’, called Towser, and how he had driven him off the +farm and forbade him ever setting foot on it again. Tim +told all about the snarling of Towser, and said he would not have +minded his taking Snooks’ part in the action, if he had +confined himself to that; but when he went on and barked at Mr. +Bumpkin’s sheep and pigs, against whom he ought to have +shown no ill-feeling, it was more than Tim could stand; so he +flew at him and thoroughly well punished him for his malignant +disposition.</p> +<p>But in the midst of all this welcoming, there was an +unpleasant experience, and that was, that all the pigs were gone +but two. The rare old Chichester sow was no more.</p> +<p>“There be only two affidavys left, Nancy!”</p> +<p>“No, Tom—only two; the man fetched two +yesterday.”</p> +<p><!-- page 297--><a name="page297"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +297</span>“I hope they sold well. Have he sent any +money yet?”</p> +<p>“Not a farthing,” said Mrs. Bumpkin; “nor +yet for the sheep. He have had six sheep.”</p> +<p>“Zo I zee; and where be th’ heifers? we had +six.”</p> +<p>“They be all sold, Tom.”</p> +<p>“And how much did ’em fetch?”</p> +<p>“The man ain’t brought in the account yet, Tom; +but I spect we shall have un soon.”</p> +<p>“Why,” said Mr. Bumpkin, looking at the stackyard, +“another rick be gone!”</p> +<p>“Yes, Tom, it be gone, and fine good hay it wur; it cut +out as well as any hay I ever zeed.”</p> +<p>“Sure did ur!” answered Tom; “it were the +six ak’r o’ clover, and were got up wirout a drop +o’ rain on un; it wur prime hay, thic. Why, I wur +offered six pun’ a looad for un.”</p> +<p>“I don’ow what ur fetched, Tom; but I be mighty +troubled about this ’ere lawsuit. I wish we’d +never ’a had un.”</p> +<p>“Doan’t say thic, Nancy; we be bound to bring +un. As Laryer Prigg say, it bean’t so much t’ +pig—”</p> +<p>“No, Tom, thee said un fust.”</p> +<p>“Well, s’poase I did—so ur did, and it +worn’t so much t’ pig, it wur thic feller’s +cheek.”</p> +<p>“Well, I don’t know nothing about un; I dissay you +be right, because you’ve allays been right, Tom; and +we’ve allays got on well togither these five and thirty +year: but, some’ow, Tom—down, Tim!—down, +Tim!”</p> +<p>“Poor old Tim!” said Tom. “Good +boy! I wish men wur as good as dogs be.”</p> +<p>“Some’ow,” continued Mrs. Bumpkin, “I +doan’t <!-- page 298--><a name="page298"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 298</span>like that ’aire Prigg; he seem +to shake his head too much for I; and ’olds his ’at +up to his face too long in church when ur goes in; and then ur +shakes his head so much when ur prays. I don’t like +un, Tom.”</p> +<p>“Now, Nancy, thee knows nothing about un. I can +tell ’ee he be a rare good man, and sich a clever lawyer, +he’ll knock that ’aire Snooks out o’ +time. But, come on, let’s goo in and ’ave some +ta.”</p> +<p>So they went in. And a very comfortable tea there was +set out on the old oak table in front of the large fireplace +where the dog-irons were. And a bright, blazing log there +was on the hearth; for a cold east wind was blowing, +notwithstanding that the sun had shone out bravely in the +day. Ah! how glad Tom was to see the bright pewter plates +and dishes ranged in rows all round the homely kitchen! +They seemed to smile a welcome on the master; and one very large +family sort of dish seemed to go out of his way to give him +welcome. I believe he tumbled down in his enthusiasm at +Tom’s return, although it was accounted for by saying that +Tim had done it by the excessive “waggling” of his +tail. I believe that dish fell down in the name of all the +plates and dishes on the shelves, for the purpose of +congratulating the master; else why should all their faces +brighten up so suddenly with smiles as he did so? +It’s ridiculous to suppose plates and dishes have no +feelings; they’ve a great deal more than some people. +And then, how the great, big, bright copper kettle, suspended on +his hook, which was in the centre of the huge fireplace, how he +did sing! Why the nightingale couldn’t throw more +feeling into a song than did that old kettle! And then the +home-made bread and rashers of bacon, such as you never see out +of a farmhouse; and tea, such as can’t <!-- page 299--><a +name="page299"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 299</span>be made +anywhere else! And then the long pipe was brought out of +his corner, where he had been just as Tom had left it before +going to town. And the bowl of that pipe gave off circular +clouds of the bluest smoke, expressive of its joy at the +master’s return: it wasn’t very expressive, perhaps, +but it was all that a pipe could do; and when one does his best +in this world, it is all that mortal man can expect of him.</p> +<p>And then said Mrs. Bumpkin,—still dubious as to the +policy of the proceedings, but too loving to combat her husband +upon them,—“When be thee gwine agin, Tom?”</p> +<p>“I doan’t rightly know,” said Bumpkin. +“Mr. Prigg will let I know; sometime in May, I +reckon.”</p> +<p>“Dear, dear!” said Mrs. Bumpkin; “it may be +on, then, just as th’ haymakin’s about.”</p> +<p>“Lor, lor! no, dearie; it’ll be over long enough +afore.”</p> +<p>“Doan’t be too sure, Tom; it be a long time now +since it begun.”</p> +<p>“Ah!” said Tom, “a long time enough; but +it’ll be in th’ paper afore long now; an’ we +got one o’ the cleverest counsel in Lunnun?”</p> +<p>“What be his name?”</p> +<p>“Danged if I know, but it be one o’ the stunninest +men o’ the day; two on ’em, by Golly; we got two, +Nancy.”</p> +<p>“Who be th’ tother? p’r’aps thee med +mind his name?”</p> +<p>“Noa, I doan’t mind his name nuther. Now, +what d’ye think o’ thic?”</p> +<p>Mrs. Bumpkin laughed, and said, “I think it be a rum +thing that thee ’as counsellors and doan’t mind their +names.”</p> +<p><!-- page 300--><a name="page300"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +300</span>And then the conversation turned upon Joe, whose place +was vacant in the old chimney corner.</p> +<p>The tears ran down Mrs. Bumpkin’s rosy cheeks as she +said for the twentieth time since Mr. Bumpkin’s +return,—</p> +<p>“Poor Joe! why did ur goo for a soger?”</p> +<p>“He wur a fool!” said Bumpkin, “and I told +un so. So as I warned un about thic Sergeant; the +artfullest man as ever lived, Nancy.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Bumpkin wiped her eyes. “He wur a good boy, +wur Joe, goo where ur wool; but, Tom, couldn’t thee +’a’ kept thine eye on un when thee see thic Sergeant +hoverin’ roun’ like a ’awk arter a +sparrer?”</p> +<p>“I did keep eye on un, I tell ’ee; but what be the +good o’ thic; as well keep thee eye on th’ sparrer +when th’ hawk be at un. I tell ’ee I +’suaded un and warned un, and begged on un to look +out.”</p> +<p>“An’ what did ur say?”</p> +<p>“Say, why said ur wur up to un.”</p> +<p>“Up to un,” repeated Mrs. Bumpkin. +“Can’t think ’ow ur got ’old on +un.”</p> +<p>“No, and thee mark I, no more can nobody else—in +Lunnon thee’re ’ad afore thee knows where thee +be.”</p> +<p>And now Mr. Bumpkin had his “little drop of warm gin and +water before going to bed”: and Mrs. Bumpkin had a mug of +elder wine, for the Christmas elder wine was not quite gone: and +after that Mrs. Bumpkin, who as the reader knows, was the better +scholar of the two, took down from a shelf on which the family +documents and books were kept, a large old bible covered with +green baize. Then she wiped her glasses, and after turning +over the old brown leaves until she came to the place where she +had read last before Tom went away, commenced <!-- page 301--><a +name="page301"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 301</span>her evening +task, while her husband smoked on and listened.</p> +<p>Was it the old tone with which she spelt her way through the +sacred words? Hardly: here it could be perceived that in +her secret heart there was doubt and mistrust. Do what she +would her eyes frequently became so dim that it was necessary to +pause and wipe her glasses; and when she had finished and closed +the book, she took Tom’s hand and said:</p> +<p>“O, Tom, I hope all ’ll turn out well, but sure +enough I ha’ misgivings.”</p> +<p>“What be it, my dear? Mr. Prigg say we shall +win—how can ur do better ’an thic?”</p> +<p>“Shall we get back the pigs and sheep, Tom?”</p> +<p>“Why not?”</p> +<p>Mrs. Bumpkin looked into her lap, and folding her apron very +smooth with both hands, answered:</p> +<p>“I doan’t think, Tom, that man looks like bringing +anything back. He be very chuffy and masterful, and looks +all round as he goo away, as though he wur lookin’ to see +what ur would take next. I think he’ll have un all, +Tom.”</p> +<p>“Stuff!” said Mr. Bumpkin, “he be +sellin’ for I, take what ur may.”</p> +<p>“He be sellin’ <span class="smcap">thee</span>, +Tom, I think, and I’d stop un from takin’ +more.”</p> +<p>They rose to go to bed, and as Mrs. Bumpkin looked at the cosy +old hearth, and put up the embers of the log to make it safe for +the night, it seemed as if the prosperity of their old home had +burnt down at last to dull ashes, and she looked sadly at the +vacant place where Joe had used to sit.</p> +<h2><!-- page 303--><a name="page303"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 303</span>CHAPTER XXXII.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Joe’s return to Southwood—an +invitation from the Vicar—what the old oak saw.</p> +<p>It was a long time after the circumstances mentioned in the +last chapter. The jails had been “delivered” of +their prisoners, and prodigious events had taken place in the +world; great battles had been fought and won, great laws made for +the future interpretation of judges, and for the vexation of +unfortunate suitors. It seemed an age to Mr. Bumpkin since +his case commenced; and Joe had been in foreign parts and won his +share of the glory and renown that falls to the lot of privates +who have helped to achieve victory for the honour and glory of +their General and the happiness of their country. It was a +very long time, measured by events, since Mr. Bumpkin’s +return from town, when on a bright morning towards the end of +June, a fine sunburnt soldier of Her Majesty’s regiment of +the --- Hussars knocked with the butt-end of his riding whip at +the old oak door in the old porch of Southwood farm-house.</p> +<p>“Well, I never! if that there bean’t our +Joe!” exclaimed Mrs. Bumpkin, looking out of the window; +and throwing down the rolling-pin which she had just been using +in rolling-out the dough for a dumpling—(Mr. Bumpkin was +“uncommon fond o’ dumplins”)—“well, +I never!” repeated Mrs. Bumpkin, as she opened <!-- page +304--><a name="page304"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +304</span>the door; “who ever would ha’ thought +it? Why, how be’est thee, Joe? And bless the +lad, ’ow thee’ve growed! My ’art alive, +come along! The master’ll be mighty glad to see thee, +and so be I, sure a ly.”</p> +<p>And here Mrs. Bumpkin paused to look round him, sticking her +knuckles in her sides and her elbows in the air as though Joe +were a piece of handiwork—a dumpling, say—which she +herself had turned out, clothes and all. And then she put +the corner of her apron to her eye.</p> +<p>“Why, Joe, I thought,” said she, “I should +never see thee agin! Dear, dear, this ’ere lawsuit be +the ruin on us, mark my words! But lor, don’t say as +I said so to the master for the world, for he be that wropped up +in un that nothing goes down night and morning, morning and +night, but affidavys, and summonses, and counsellors, and +jussices, and what not.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said the soldier, slapping his whip on his +leg as was his custom, “you might be sure I should come and +see yer if they left me a leg to hop with, and I should ’a +wrote, but what wi’ the smoke and what with the cannon +balls flying about, you haven’t got much time to think +about anything; but I did think this, that if ever I got back to +Old England, if it was twenty year to come, I’d go and see +the old master and missus and ’ear ’ow that lawsuit +wur going on.”</p> +<p>“And that be right, Joe—I knowed ’ee would; +I said as much to master. But ’ow do thee think +it’ll end? shall us win or lose?”</p> +<p>Now this was the first time he had ever been called upon to +give a legal opinion, or rather, an opinion upon a legal matter, +so he was naturally somewhat put about; <!-- page 305--><a +name="page305"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 305</span>and looking +at the rolling-pin and the dough and then at Mrs. Bumpkin, +said:</p> +<p>“Well, it’s like this: a man med win or a man med +lose, there’s no telling about the case; but I be +dang’d well sure o’ this, missus, he’ll lose +his money: I wish master had chucked her up long agoo.”</p> +<p>This opinion was not encouraging; and perceiving that the +subject troubled Mrs. Bumpkin more than she liked to confess, he +asked a question which was of more immediate importance to +himself, and that was in reference to Polly Sweetlove.</p> +<p>“Why, thee’ll make her look at thee now, +I’ll warrant; thy clothes fit thee as though they growed on +thee.”</p> +<p>“Do she walk with the baker?” inquired Joe, with +trembling accents.</p> +<p>“I never heeard so, an’ it’s my belief she +never looked at un wi’ any meaning. I’ve seen +her many a time comin’ down the Green Lane by herself and +peepin’ over th’ gate.”</p> +<p>“Now look at that!” said Joe; “and when I +was here I couldn’t get Polly to come near the +farm—allays some excuse—did you ever speak to her +about me, missus?”</p> +<p>“I ain’t going to tell tales out of school, Joe, +so there.”</p> +<p>“Now look at that,” said Joe; “here’s +a chap comes all this way and you won’t tell him +anything.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Bumpkin laughed, and went on rolling the dough, and told +him what a nice dumpling she was making, and how he would like +it, and asked how long he was going to stop, and hoped it would +be a month, and was telling him all about the sheep and the cows +<!-- page 306--><a name="page306"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +306</span>and the good behaviour of the bull, when suddenly she +said:</p> +<p>“Here he be, Joe! lor, lor, how glad he’ll be to +see thee!”</p> +<p>But it wasn’t the Bull that stepped into the room; it +was Mr. Bumpkin, rosy, stalwart, jolly, and artful as ever. +Now Mrs. Bumpkin was very anxious to be the bearer of such good +intelligence as Joe’s arrival, so, notwithstanding the fact +that Mr. Bumpkin and he were face to face, the eager woman +exclaimed:</p> +<p>“Here be our Joe, Tom, hearty and well. And +bean’t he a smart fine feller? What’ll Polly +think of un now?”</p> +<p>“Shut up thic chatter,” said Mr. Bumpkin, +laughing. “Halloa! why, Joe, egad thee looks like a +gineral. I’d take thee for a kernel at the wery +least. Why, when did thee come, lad?”</p> +<p>“Just now, master.”</p> +<p>“That be right, an’ I be glad to see thee. +I’ll warrant Nancy ain’t axed thee t’ have +nothun.”</p> +<p>“Why, thee be welcome to the ’ouse if thee can eat +un, thee knows thic,” answered Nancy; “but +dinner’ll be ready at twelve, and thee best not spoil +un.”</p> +<p>“A quart o’ ale wun’t spile un, will un, +Joe?”</p> +<p>“Now look at that,” said the soldier. +“Thankee, master, but not a quart.”</p> +<p>“Well, thee hasn’t got thee head snicked off yet, +Joe?”</p> +<p>“No, master, if my head had been snicked off I +couldn’t ha’ bin here.” And he laughed a +loud ha! ha! ha!</p> +<p>And Mr. Bumpkin laughed a loud haw! haw! haw! at this +tremendous witticism. It was not much of a <!-- page +307--><a name="page307"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +307</span>witticism, perhaps, after all, when duly considered, +but it answered the purpose as well as the very best, and +produced as much pleasure as the most brilliant <i>repartee</i>, +in the most fashionable circles. We must take people as +they are.</p> +<p>So Joe stayed chattering away till dinner-time, and then, +referring to the pudding, said he had never tasted anything like +it in his life; and went on telling the old people all the +wonders of the campaign: how their regiment just mowed down the +enemy as he used to cut corn in the harvest-field, and how +nothing could stand aginst a charge of cavalry; and how they +liked their officers; and how their General, who warn’t +above up to Joe’s shoulder, were a genleman, every inch on +him, an’ as brave as any lion you could pick out. And +so he went on, until Mr. Bumpkin said:</p> +<p>“An’ if I had my time over agin I’d goo for +a soger too, Joe,” which made Mrs. Bumpkin laugh and ask +what would become of her.</p> +<p>“Ha! ha! ha! look at that!” said Joe; +“she’s got you there, master.”</p> +<p>“No she bean’t, she’d a married thic feller +that wur so sweet on her afore I had ur.”</p> +<p>“What, Jem?” said Mrs. Bumpkin, “why I +wouldn’t ha’ had un, Tom, if every ’air had +been hung wi’ dimonds.”</p> +<p>“Now look at that,” laughed Joe.</p> +<p>And so they went on until it was time to take a turn round the +farm. Everything seemed startled at Joe’s fine +clothes, especially the bull, who snorted and pawed the earth and +put out his tail, and placed his head to the ground, until Joe +called him by name, and then, as he told his comrades afterwards +in barracks, the bull said:</p> +<p><!-- page 308--><a name="page308"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +308</span>“Why danged if it bean’t our +Joe!”</p> +<p>I must confess I did not hear this observation in my dream, +but I was some distance off, and if Mr. Ricochet, Q.C., in +cross-examination had said, “Will you swear, sir, upon your +oath that the bull did not use those words?” I must have +been bound to answer, “I will not.”</p> +<p>But presently they met old Tim, the Collie, and there was no +need for Joe to speak to him. Up he came with a bound and +caressed his old mate in the most loving manner.</p> +<p>The Queen’s uniform was no disguise to him.</p> +<p>The next day it was quite a treat to see Joe go through the +village. Such a swagger he put on that you would have +thought he was the whole regiment. And when he went by the +Vicarage, where Polly was housemaid, it was remarkable to see the +air of indifference which he assumed. Whack went his +riding-whip on his leg: you could hear it a hundred yards +off. He didn’t seem to care a bit whether she was +staring at him out of the study window as hard as she could stare +or not. Two or three times he struck the same leg, and +marched on perfectly indifferent to all around.</p> +<p>At length came Sunday, as Sunday only comes in a country +village. No such peace, no such Sabbath anywhere. You +have only got to look at anything you like to know that it is +Sunday. Bill’s shirt collar; the milkman; even his +bright milk-can has a Sunday shine about it. The cows +standing in the shallow brook have a reverent air about +them. They never look like that on any other day. Why +the very sunshine is Sabbath sunshine, and seems to bring more +peace and more pleasantness than on any other day of the +week. And <!-- page 309--><a name="page309"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 309</span>all the trees seem to whisper +together, “It’s Sunday morning.”</p> +<p>Presently you see the people straggling up to the little +church, whose donging bell keeps on as much as to say, “I +know I’m not much of a peal, but in my humble way I do my +duty to the best of my ability; it’s not the sound but the +spirit of the thing that is required; and if I’m not very +musical, and can’t give you many changes, I’m sincere +in what I say.” And this was an emblem of the +sincerity and the simplicity of the clergyman inside. He +kept on hammering away at the old truths and performing his part +in God’s great work to the best of his ability; and I know +with very great success. So in they all came to church; and +Joe, who had been a very good Sunday-school pupil +(notwithstanding his love of poaching) and was a favourite with +the vicar, as the reader knows, took his old place in the free +seats, not very far from the pew where the vicar’s servants +sat. Who can tell what his feelings were as he wondered +whether Polly would be there that morning?</p> +<p>The other servants came in. Ah, dear! Polly +can’t come, now look at that! Just as he was thinking +this in she came. Such a flutter in her heart as she saw +the bright uniform and the brighter face, bronzed with a foreign +clime and looking as handsome as ever a face could look. O +what a flutter too in Joe’s heart! But he was +determined not to care for her. So he wouldn’t look, +and that was a very good way; and he certainly would have kept +his word if he could.</p> +<p>I think if I had to choose where and how I would be admired, +if ever such a luxury could come to me, I would be Joe Wurzel +under present circumstances. A young hero, handsome, tall, +in the uniform of the <!-- page 310--><a name="page310"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 310</span>Hussars, with a loved one near and +all the village girls fixing their eyes on me! That for +once only, and my utmost ambition would be gratified. Life +could have no greater pride for me. I don’t know +whether the sermon made much impression that day, but of the two, +I verily believe Joe made the most; and as they streamed out of +the little church all the young faces of the congregation were +turned to him: and everywhere when they got outside it was, +“Halloa, Joe!” “Why, Joe, my lad, what +cheer?” “Dang’d if here bean’t +Joe!” and other exclamations of welcome and surprise. +And then, how all the pinafored boys flocked round and gazed with +wondering eyes at this conquering hero; chattering to one another +and contradicting one another about what this part of his uniform +was and what that part was, and so on; but all agreeing that Joe +was about the finest sight that had come into Yokelton since ever +it was a place.</p> +<p>And then the old clergyman sent for him and was as kind as +ever he could be; and Joe was on the enchanted ground where the +fairy Polly flitted about as noiselessly as a butterfly. +Ah, and what’s this? Now let not the reader be +over-anxious; for a few lines I must keep you, gentle one, in +suspense; a great surprise must be duly prepared. If I told +you at once what I saw, you would not think so much of it as if I +kept you a little while in a state of wondering curiosity. +What do you think happened in the Vicarage?</p> +<p>Now’s the moment to tell it in a fresh paragraph. +Why in came the fairy with a little tray of cake and wine! +Now pause on that before I say any more. What about their +eyes? Did they swim? What about their hearts; did +they flutter? Did Polly blush? Did Joe’s +bronzed face shine? Ah, it all took place, and <!-- page +311--><a name="page311"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +311</span>much more than I could tell in a whole volume. +The vicar did not perceive it, for luckily he was looking out of +the window. It only took a moment to place the tray on the +table, and the fairy disappeared. But that moment, not then +considered as of so much importance, exciting as it was, stamped +the whole lives of two beings, and who can tell whether or no +such a moment leaves its impress on Eternity?</p> +<p>All good and all kind was the old vicar; and how attentively +he listened with Mrs. Goodheart to the eye-witness of +England’s great deeds! And then—no, he did not +give Joe a claptrap maudlin sermon, but treated him as a man +subject to human frailties, and, only hoped in all his career he +would remember some of the things he had been taught at the +Sunday School.</p> +<p>“Ay,” said Joe, “ay, sir, and the best +lesson I ever larned, and what have done me most good, be the +kindness I always had from you.”</p> +<p>So they parted, and a day or two after, strangely enough, just +as Joe was walking along by the old Oak that is haunted, and +which the owls and the ghosts occupy between them, who should +come down the lane in the opposite direction but Polly +Sweetlove! Where she came from was the greatest mystery in +the world! And it was so extraordinary that Joe should meet +her: and he said so, as soon as he could speak.</p> +<p>“Now look at that! Whoever would have thought of +meeting anybody here?”</p> +<p>Polly hung down her head and blushed. Neither of them +knew what to say for a long time; for Joe was not a spokesman to +any extent. At last Polly Sweetlove broke silence and +murmured in the softest voice, and I should think the very +sweetest ever heard in this world:</p> +<p><!-- page 312--><a name="page312"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +312</span>“Are you going away soon, Joe?”</p> +<p>“Friday,” answered the young Hussar.</p> +<p>Ah me! This was Wednesday already; to-morrow would be +Thursday, and the next day Friday! I did not hear this, but +I give you my word it took place.</p> +<p>“Are you coming to see the Vicar again?” asked the +sweet voice.</p> +<p>“No,” said Joe.</p> +<p>They both looked down at the gnarled roots of the old +tree—the roots did stick out a long way, and I suppose +attracted their attention—and then Polly just touched the +big root with her tiny toe. And the point of that tiny toe +touched Joe’s heart too, which seemed to have got into that +root somehow, and sent a thrill as of an electric shock, only +much pleasanter, right through his whole body, and even into the +roots of his hair.</p> +<p>“When are you coming again?” whispered the sweet +lips.</p> +<p>“Don’t know,” said the young soldier; +“perhaps never.”</p> +<p>“But you’ll come and see—your +mother?”</p> +<p>“O yes,” answered Joe, “I shall come and see +mother; but what’s it matter to thee, lassie?”</p> +<p>The lassie blushed, and Joe thought it a good opportunity to +take hold of her hand. I don’t know why, but he did; +and he was greatly surprised that the hand did not run away.</p> +<p>“I think the Vicar likes you, Joe?”</p> +<p>“Do he?” and he kept drawing nearer and nearer, +little by little, until his other hand went clean round Polly +Sweetlove’s waist, and—well an owl flew out of the +tree at that moment, and drew off my attention; but afterwards +<!-- page 313--><a name="page313"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +313</span>I saw that they both kept looking at the root of the +tree, and then Joe said;</p> +<p>“But you love th’ baker, Polly?”</p> +<p>“No,” whispered Polly; “no, no, +never!”</p> +<p>“Now, look at that!” said Joe, recovering himself +a little; “I always thought you liked the baker.”</p> +<p>“Never, Joe.”</p> +<p>“Well then, why didn’t you look at me?”</p> +<p>Polly blushed.</p> +<p>“Joe, they said you was so wild.”</p> +<p>“Now, look at that,” said Joe; “did you ever +see me wild, Polly?”</p> +<p>“Never, Joe—I will say that.”</p> +<p>“No, and you can ask my mother or Mrs. Bumpkin, or the +Vicar, or anybody else you like, Polly—.”</p> +<p>“I shall go and see your mother,” said Polly.</p> +<p>“Will you come to-morrow night?” asked Joe.</p> +<p>“If I can get away I will; but I must go +now—good-bye—good-bye—good——”</p> +<p>“Are you in a hurry, Polly.”</p> +<p>“I must go, Joe—good—; but I will come +to-morrow, as soon as dinner is +over—good—good—good-bye.”</p> +<p>“And then——,” but the Old Oak kept his +counsel. Here I awoke.</p> +<p style="text-align: center">* * * * *</p> +<p>“Well,” cried my wife, “you have broken off +abruptly.”</p> +<p>“One can’t help it,” quoth I, rubbing my +eyes. “I cannot help waking any more than I can help +going to sleep.”</p> +<p><!-- page 314--><a name="page314"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +314</span>“Well, this would be a very pretty little +courtship if true.”</p> +<p>“Ah,” I said, “if I have described all that +I saw in my dream, you may depend upon it it is true. But +when I go to Southwood I will ask the Old Oak, for we are the +greatest friends imaginable, and he tells me everything. He +has known me ever since I was a child, and never sees me but he +enters into conversation.”</p> +<p>“What about?”</p> +<p>“The past, present, and future—a very fruitful +subject of conversation, I assure you.”</p> +<p>“Wide enough, certainly.”</p> +<p>“None too wide for a tree of his standing.”</p> +<p>“Ask him, dear, if Joe will marry this Polly +Sweetlove.”</p> +<p>“He will not tell me that; he makes a special +reservation in favour of lovers’ secrets. They would +not confide their loves to his keeping so often as they do if he +betrayed them. No, he’s a staunch old fellow in that +respect, and the consequence is, that for centuries lovers have +breathed their vows under his protecting branches.”</p> +<p>“I’m sorry for that—I mean I am sorry he +will not tell you about this young couple, for I should like to +know if they will marry. Indeed, you must find out somehow, +for everyone who reads your book will be curious on this +subject.”</p> +<p>“What, as to whether ploughman Joe will marry Polly the +housemaid. Had he been the eldest son of the Squire now, +and she the Vicar’s daughter, instead of the +maid—”</p> +<p>“It would not have been a whit more interesting, for +love is love, and human nature the same in high and <!-- page +315--><a name="page315"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +315</span>low degree. But, perhaps, this old tree +doesn’t know anything about future events?”</p> +<p>“He knows from his long experience of the past what will +happen if certain conditions are given; he knows, for instance, +the secret whispers, and the silent tokens exchanged beneath his +boughs, and from them he knows what will assuredly result if +things take their ordinary course.”</p> +<p>“So does anyone, prophet or no prophet.”</p> +<p>“But his process of reasoning, based upon the experience +of a thousand years, is unerring; he saw William the Conqueror, +and listened to a council of war held under his branches; he knew +what would happen if William’s projects were successful: +whether they would be successful was not within his +knowledge. He was intimately acquainted with Herne’s +Oak at Windsor, and they frequently visited.”</p> +<p>“Visited! how was that possible?”</p> +<p>“Quite possible; trees visit one another just the same +as human beings—they hold intercourse by means of the +wind. For instance, when the wind blows from the +north-east, Southwood Oak visits at Windsor Park, and when the +wind is in the opposite direction a return visit is paid. +There isn’t a tree of any position in England but the Old +Oak of Southwood knows. He is in himself the History of +England, only he is unlike all other histories, for he speaks the +truth.”</p> +<p>“He must have witnessed many love scenes!”</p> +<p>“Thousands!”</p> +<p>“Tell me some?”</p> +<p>“Not now—besides, I must ask leave.”</p> +<p>“Does he ever tell you anything about +yourself?”</p> +<p>“A great deal—it is our principal topic of +conversation; <!-- page 316--><a name="page316"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 316</span>but he always begins it, lest my +modesty should prevent any intercourse on the subject.”</p> +<p>“What has he said?”</p> +<p>“A great deal: he has inspired me with hope, even +instilled into me some ambition: he has tried to impart to me an +admiration of all that is true, and to awaken a detestation of +all that is mean and pettifogging. I never look at him but +I see the symbol of all that is noble, grand and brave: he is the +emblem of stability, friendship and affection; a monument of +courage, honesty, and fidelity; he is the type of manly +independence and self-reliance. I am glad, therefore, that +under his beautiful branches, and within his protecting presence, +two young hearts have again met and pledged, as I believe they +have, their troth, honestly resolving to battle together against +the storms of life, rooted in stedfast love, and rejoicing in the +sunshine of the Creator’s smiles!”</p> +<p>After these observations, which were received with marked +approval, I again gave myself up to the soft influence of a +dreamy repose.</p> +<h2><!-- page 317--><a name="page317"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 317</span>CHAPTER XXXIII.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">A consultation as to new lodgings.—Also +a consultation with counsel.</p> +<p>It was a subject of grave discussion between the Bumpkins and +Joe, as to where would be the best place for the plaintiff to +lodge on his next visit to London. If he had moved in the +upper ranks of life, in all probability he would have taken Mrs. +Bumpkin to his town house: but being only a plain man and a +farmer, it was necessary to decide upon the most convenient, and +at the same time, inexpensive locality.</p> +<p>Mrs. Bumpkin, who, of course, knew all about her +husband’s adventures, was strongly opposed to his returning +to the Goose. Never had created thing lost so much in her +estimation by mere association as this domestic bird. Joe +was a fine soldier, no doubt, but it was the Goose that had taken +him in.</p> +<p>Curiously enough, as they were discussing this important +question, who should come in but honest Lawyer Prigg himself.</p> +<p>What a blessing that man seemed to be, go where he +would! Why, he spread an air of hope and cheerfulness over +this simple household the moment he entered it! But the +greatest virtue he dispensed was resignation; he had a large +stock of this on hand. He always preached <!-- page +318--><a name="page318"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +318</span>it: “resignation to the will of +Providence;” resignation to him, Prigg!</p> +<p>So when he came in with his respectable head, professional +collar, and virtuous necktie, Mr. and Mrs. Bumpkin could not +choose but rise. Mr. Bumpkin meekly pulled his hair, and +humbly bowed obeisance as to his benefactor. Mrs. Bumpkin +curtseyed as to a superior power, whom she could not recognize as +a benefactor. Joe stood up, and looked as if he +couldn’t quite make out what Mr. Prigg was. He knew +he worked the Law somehow, and “summut like as a man works +a steam-threshing machine, but how or by what means, was a +mystery unrevealed to the mind of the simple soldier.”</p> +<p>“Good morning! good morning!” said Mr. Prigg, +after the manner of a patriarch conferring a blessing. +“Well, Joe, so you are returned, are you? Come, now, +let me shake hands with one of our brave heroes!”</p> +<p>What condescension! and his tone was the tone of a man +reaching down from a giddy height to the world beneath him.</p> +<p>“So you were in the thick of the fight, were +you—dear me! what a charge that was!” Ah, but, +dear reader, you should see Prigg’s charges!</p> +<p>“I wur someur about, sir,” said Joe. +“I dunnow where now though.”</p> +<p>“Quite so,” said Mr. Prigg, “it was a great +victory; I’m told the enemy ran away directly they heard +our troops were coming.”</p> +<p>“Now look at that,” said Joe; “what a lot of +lies do get about sure-ly!”</p> +<p>“Dear me!” said Mr. Prigg; “but you beat +them, did you not? we won the battle?”</p> +<p><!-- page 319--><a name="page319"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +319</span>“That’s right enough,” said Joe; +“but if they’d run away we couldn’t a beat +un—’tain’t much of a fight when there’s +no enemy.”</p> +<p>“Haw, haw, haw!” laughed Bumpkin. +“That be good, Mr. Prigg, that be good!”</p> +<p>“Very good, very good, indeed,” said Mr. Prigg; +“I don’t wonder at your winning if you could make +such sallies as that.”</p> +<p>And that was good for Mr. Prigg.</p> +<p>“And now,” said he, “to +business—business, eh?”</p> +<p>“We be jist gwine to ’ave a nice piece o’ +pork and greens, Mr. Prigg, would ee please to tak some,” +said Mr. Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“Dear me!” answered Prigg; “how very +strange, my favourite dish—if ever Mrs. Prigg is in doubt +about—”</p> +<p>“It be wery plain,” said Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“The plainer the better, my dear sir; as I always say to +my servants, if you—”</p> +<p>“I’m sure,” said Mrs. Bumpkin; “I be +’ardly fit to wait on a gennleman like you. I +ain’t ’ad time this morning to change my gown and +tidy up myself.”</p> +<p>“Really, my dear madam—don’t, now; I adjure +you; make no apologies—it is not the dress—or +the—or the —, anything in fact, that makes us what we +are;—don’t, if you please.”</p> +<p>And here his profound sentiments died away again and were lost +to the world; and the worthy man, not long after, was discussing +his favourite dish with greedy relish.</p> +<p>“An when’ll this ’ere thing be on, Mr. +Prigg, does thee think? It be a hell of a long +time.”</p> +<p>“Tom! Tom!” exclaimed Mrs. Bumpkin. +But Mr. <!-- page 320--><a name="page320"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 320</span>Prigg was too well bred and too much +occupied with his pork and greens to hear the very wayward +epithet of the Farmer Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“Quite so,” said the lawyer; “quite so, it +is so difficult to tell when a case will come on. +You’re in the list to-day and gone to-morrow; a man the +other day was just worried as you have been; but mark this; at +the trial, Mr. Bumpkin, the jury gave that man a verdict for a +thousand pounds!”</p> +<p>“Look at that, Nancy,” exclaimed Mr. Bumpkin; +“Will ’ee tak a little more pork, sir?”</p> +<p>“Thank you,” said Mr. Prigg, “it’s +uncommonly good; some of your own feeding, I suppose?”</p> +<p>“Ay,” said Mr. Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“Were that a pig case, Mr. Prigg, where the man got the +thousand pounds?” asked Mrs. Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“Let me see,” answered Prigg, “<i>was</i> it +a pig case?” Here he put his finger to the side of +his nose. “I really, at this moment, quite forget +whether it was or was not a pig case. I’ll trouble +you, Mrs. Bumpkin, for a little more greens, if you +please.”</p> +<p>“Now, I wur saying,” said Bumpkin, “jist as +thee comed in, where be I to lodge when I gooes to Lunnon +agin?”</p> +<p>“Ah, now, quite so—yes; and you must go in a day +or two. I expect we shall be on shortly. Now, let me +see, you don’t like ‘The Goose’? A nice +respectable hostelry, too!”</p> +<p>“I wunt ’ave un goo there, Mr. Prigg,” said +Mrs. Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“Quite so—quite so. Now what I was thinking +was, suppose you took lodgings at some nice suburban place, +say—”</p> +<p><!-- page 321--><a name="page321"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +321</span>“What pleace, sir?” inquired Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“Let us say Camden Town, for instance—nice healthy +neighbourhood and remarkably quiet. You could come every +morning by ’bus, or if you preferred it, by rail; and if by +rail, you could take a season ticket, which would be much +cheaper; a six months’ ticket, again, being cheaper than a +three months’ ticket.”</p> +<p>“In the name o’ Heaven, sir,” exclaimed Mrs. +Bumpkin, “be this ’ere thing gwine on for +ever?”</p> +<p>Mr. Prigg smiled benignly, as much as to say, “You +ladies are so impatient, so innocent of the business of +life.”</p> +<p>“It seems to me, Mr. Prigg, one need live to be as old +as thic there Mackthusaler to bring a law-suit +now-a-days.”</p> +<p>“Now, look at that!” broke in Joe, +“it’s made master look forty year older +aready.”</p> +<p>“So it have, Joe,” rejoined the mistress; “I +wish it could be chucked up altogether.”</p> +<p>Mr. Prigg benignantly shook his head.</p> +<p>“D’ye think I be gwine to give in to thic +sniggerin’ Snooks feller?” asked Mr. Bumpkin. +“Not if I knows it. Why thic feller goo +sniggerin’ along th’ street as though he’d won; +and he ’ave told lots o’ people how he’ll laugh +I out o’ Coourt—his counsel be gwine to laugh I out +o’ Coourt becors I be a country farmer.”</p> +<p>“Right can’t be laughed out of Court, sir,” +said the excellent Prigg, solemnly.</p> +<p>“Noa, noa, right bean’t asheamed, goo where ur +wool. Upright and down-straight wur allays my motto. +I be a plain man, but I allays tried to act straight-forrerd, and +bean’t asheamed o’ no man.”</p> +<p>This speech was a complete success: it was unanswerable. +<!-- page 322--><a name="page322"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +322</span>It fixed the lodgings at Camden Town. It stopped +Mrs. Bumpkin’s impatience; diminished her apprehensions; +and apparently, lulled her misgivings. She was a gentle, +hard-working, loving wife.</p> +<p>And so all was settled. It was the month of April, and +it was confidently expected that by the end of July all would be +comfortably finished in time to get in the harvest. The +crops looked well; the meadows and clover-field promised a fair +crop, and the wheat and barley never looked better.</p> +<p>The following week found Mr. Bumpkin in his new lodgings at +Camden Town; and I verily believe, as Mr. Prigg very sagaciously +observed, if it had not been for the Judges going circuit, +<i>Bumpkin</i> v. <i>Snooks</i> would have been in the paper six +weeks earlier than it really was. But even lawsuits must +come on at last, be they never so tardy: and one day, in bustling +haste, Mr. Prigg’s young man informed Mr. Bumpkin that a +consultation was actually fixed at his leader’s chambers, +Garden Court, Temple, at seven o’clock punctually the next +day.</p> +<p>Bumpkin was delighted: he was to be present at the express +wish of the leading counsel. So to Garden Court he went at +seven, with Mr. Prigg; and there sure enough was Mr. Dynamite, +his junior counsel. Mr. Catapult, Q.C., had not yet +arrived. So while they waited, Mr. Bumpkin had an +opportunity of looking about him; never in his life had he seen +so many books. There they were all over the walls; shelves +upon shelves. The chambers seemed built with books, and Mr. +Bumpkin raised his eyes with awe to the ceiling, expecting to see +books there.</p> +<p><!-- page 323--><a name="page323"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +323</span>“What be all these ’ere books, sir?” +he whispered to Prigg.</p> +<p>“These are law books,” answered the intelligent +Prigg; “but these are only a few.”</p> +<p>“Must be a good dale o’ law,” said +Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“A good deal too much,” observed Mr. Dynamite, +with a smile; “if we were to burn nine-tenths of the law +books we should have better law, eh, Mr. Prigg?”</p> +<p>Mr. Prigg never contradicted counsel; and if Mr. Dynamite had +said it’s a great pity that our libraries have so few +authorities, Prigg would have made the same answer, “I +quite agree, quite so! quite so!”</p> +<p>“Mr. Cats-’is-name don’t seem to +come,” observed Bumpkin, after an hour and a half had +passed.</p> +<p>“Mr. <i>Catapult</i>, Mr. <i>Catapult</i>,” said +Mr. Prigg; “no, he doesn’t seem to come.” +And then he rang for the clerk, and the clerk came.</p> +<p>“Do you think Mr. Catapult will return to-night?” +inquired Prigg.</p> +<p>“I don’t think he will,” said the clerk, +looking at his watch; “I am afraid not.”</p> +<p>“Beant much good to stop then,” said Mr. +Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“I fear not,” observed the clerk, “he has so +many engagements. Shall we fix another consultation, Mr. +Prigg?”</p> +<p>“If you please,” said that gentleman.</p> +<p>“Say half-past seven to-morrow, then. The case, I +find, is not in the paper to-morrow.”</p> +<p>“Quite so, quite so,” returned Prigg, +“half-past seven to-morrow.”</p> +<p>And thus the consultation was at an end and the parties went +their several ways.</p> +<h2><!-- page 325--><a name="page325"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 325</span>CHAPTER XXXIV.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Mr. Bumpkin receives compliments from +distinguished persons.</p> +<p>One evening as Mr. Bumpkin was sitting in his little parlour, +ruminating, or as he termed it, “rummaging” in his +mind over many things, and especially wondering when the trial +would come on, Horatio, in breathless impatience, entered the +room. His excited and cheerful appearance indicated that +something of an unusually pleasant nature had occurred. A +strong intimacy had long been established between this boy and +Mr. Bumpkin, who regarded Horatio as a kind of legal prodigy; his +very hopes seemed centered in and inspired by this lad. He +seemed to be the guiding spirit and the flywheel of the whole +proceedings. Was Snooks to be pulverized? it must be under +Horatio’s heel!</p> +<p>This legal stripling brought almost as much comfort as Mr. +Prigg himself; and it was quite a pleasure to hear the familiar +terms in which he spoke of the bigwigs of the profession. +He would say of McCannister, the Queen’s Counsel, “I +like Mac’s style of putting a question, it’s so soft +like—it goes down like a Pick-me-up.” Then he +would allude to Mr. Heavytop, Q.C., as Jack; to Mr. Bigpot as old +Kettledrum; to Mr. Swagger, Q.C., as Pat; to B. C. Windbag, Q.C., +M.P., as B. C.—all which indicated to the mind of Mr. +Bumpkin the particularly <!-- page 326--><a +name="page326"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 326</span>intimate +terms upon which Horatio was with these celebrities. Nor +did his intimacy cease there: instead of speaking of the highest +legal official of the land in terms of respectful deference, as +“my Lord High Chancellor,” or “my Lord +Allworthy,”—he would say, in the most indifferent +manner “Old Allworthy” this, and “Old +Allworthy,” that; sometimes even, he ventured to call some +of Her Majesty’s Judges by nick-names; an example which, I +trust, will not be followed by the Horatios of the future. +But I believe the pale boy, like his great namesake, was +fearless. It was a comfort to hear him denounce the +law’s delay, and the terrible “cumbersomeness” +of legal proceedings: not that he did it in soothing language or +in happy phraseology: it was rather in a manner that led Mr. +Bumpkin to believe the young champion was standing up for his +particular rights; as if he had said to the authorities, whoever +they might be, “Look here! I’ll have no more of +this: it’s a shame and disgrace to this country that a +simple dispute between a couple of neighbours can’t be +tried without months of quarrelling in Judges’ Chambers and +elsewhere; if you don’t try this case before long +I’ll see what can be done.” Then there was +further consolation in the fact that Horatio declared that, in +his opinion, Tommy <i>Catpup</i>, Q.C., would knock Snooks into a +cocked hat, and that Snooks already looked very down in the +mouth.</p> +<p>On the evening at which I have arrived in my dream, when the +pale boy came in, Mr. Bumpkin inquired what was the matter: was +the case settled? Had Snooks paid the damages? +Nothing of the kind. Horatio’s visit was of a +common-place nature. He had simply come to inform Mr. +Bumpkin that the Archbishop of <!-- page 327--><a +name="page327"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 327</span>Canterbury +had kindly sent him a couple of tickets for the reserved seats at +Canterbury Hall.</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin was disappointed. He cared nothing for +Archbishops. He was in hopes it had been something +better.</p> +<p>“I wunt goo,” said he.</p> +<p>“We ought to go, I think,” said Horatio; “it +was very kind of old Archy to send em, and he wouldn’t like +it if we didn’t go: besides, he and the Rolls are great +chums.”</p> +<p>“Rolls!” said Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“The Master of the Rolls. I shouldn’t wonder +if he aint got Archy to send em—don’t you be a +fool. And another thing, Paganani’s going to play the +farmyard on the fiddle to-night. Gemminey, ain’t that +good! You hear the pigs squeak, and the bull roar, and the +old cock crow, and the sow grunt, and the horse +kick—”</p> +<p>“How the devil can thee hear a horse kick, unless he +kicks zummat?”</p> +<p>“Well, he does,” said Horatio; “that’s +just what he does do. Let’s go, I am sure you will +like it.”</p> +<p>“It beant one o’ these ere playhouse pleaces, be +it?”</p> +<p>“Lor bless you,” said Horatio, +“there’s pews just the same as if you was in Church: +and the singing’s beautiful.”</p> +<p>“No sarmon, I s’pooase.”</p> +<p>“Not on week nights, but I’ll tell you what there +is instead: a chap climbs up to the top of a high pole and stands +on his head for ten minutes.”</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin, although a man who never went out of an evening, +could not resist the persuasions of his pale young friend. +He had never been to any place of amusement, except the Old +Bailey, since he had been in London; <!-- page 328--><a +name="page328"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 328</span>although he +had promised himself a treat to the Cattle Show, provided that +came on, which was very likely, as it only wanted five months to +it, before his case.</p> +<p>So they got on the top of a ’Bus and proceeded on their +way to Lambeth Palace; for the Canterbury Hall, as everyone +knows, is in that ancient pile. And truly, when they +arrived everything was astonishingly beautiful and +pleasing. Mr. Bumpkin was taken through the Picture +Gallery, which he enjoyed, although he would have liked to see +one or two like the Squire had got in his Hall, such as +“Clinker,” the prize bull; and “Father +Tommy,” the celebrated ram. But the Archbishop +probably had never taken a prize: not much of a breeder +maybe.</p> +<p>Now they entered the Hall amid strains of sweet, soft, +enchanting music. Never before had the soul of Bumpkin been +so enthralled: it was as if the region of fairyland had suddenly +burst upon his astonished view. In presence of all this +beauty, and this delicious cadence of sweet sounds, what a +common-place thing <i>Bumpkin</i> v. <i>Snooks</i> seemed!</p> +<p>Theirs was a very nice pew, commanding a full view of the +stage and all the angelic looking beings. And evidently our +friends were considered fashionable people, for many of the +audience looked round at them as they entered. So awed was +Mr. Bumpkin when he first sat down, that he wondered whether he +ought to look into his hat as the Squire did in Church; but, +resolving to be guided by Horatio, and seeing that the pale youth +did not even take his billycock off, but spread his elbows out on +the front ledge and clapped his hands with terrific vehemence, +and shouted “Anchore” as loudly as he <!-- page +329--><a name="page329"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +329</span>could, Mr. Bumpkin, in imitation, clapped his hands and +said “Hooroar!”</p> +<p>It was glorious. The waiter came and exchanged winks +with the pale boy, and brought some soda-and-brandy and a +cigar. Mr. Bumpkin wondered more and more. It was the +strangest place he had ever heard of. It seemed so strange +to have smoking and drinking. But then he knew there were +things occurring every day that the cleverest men could not +account for: not even Mr. Slater, the schoolmaster at Yokelton, +could account for them.</p> +<p>Just in front of the two friends was another pew, a very nice +one that was, and for some little time it was unoccupied. +Presently with a great rustling of silks and a great smell of +Jockey Club, and preceded by one of the servants of the +establishment, entered two beautiful and fashionably dressed +ladies of extremely quiet (except the Jockey Club) and retiring +demeanour. They could not but attract Mr. Bumpkin’s +attention: they so reminded him of the Squire’s daughters, +only they dressed much better. How he would like Nancy to +see them: she was very fond of beautiful gowns, was Nancy.</p> +<p>“I wonder who they be?” whispered Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“I don’t know,” answered Horatio; +“I’ll ask as soon as I get a chance. It’s +the Archbishop’s pew; I believe they are his +daughters.”</p> +<p>“Wouldn’t ur ha come wi em?” said +Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“He generally does, but I suppose he can’t get +away to-night.”</p> +<p>At this moment a waiter, or as Bumpkin called him a pew +opener, was passing, and Horatio whispered something in his ear, +his companion looking at him the while from the corner of his +eyes.</p> +<p><!-- page 330--><a name="page330"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +330</span>“The one on the right,” whispered the +waiter, untwisting the wire of a bottle of sodawater, “is +the Countess Squeezem, and the other is Lady Flora, her +sister.”</p> +<p>Bumpkin nodded his head as much as to say, “Just see +that: high life, that, if you like!”</p> +<p>And really the Countess and Lady Flora were as quiet and +unassuming as if they had been the commonest bred people in the +world.</p> +<p>Now came forward on the stage a sweet young lady dressed in +yellow satin, with lovely red roses all down the front and one on +the left shoulder, greeted by a thunder of applause. Her +voice was thrilling: now it was at the back of the stage; now it +was just behind your ear; now in the ceiling. You +didn’t know where to have it. After she had done, +Horatio said:</p> +<p>“What do you think of Nilsson?”</p> +<p>“Wery good! wery good!”</p> +<p>“Hallo,” says Horatio, “here’s Sims +Reeves. Bravo Sims! bravo Reeves!”</p> +<p>“I’ve eered tell o’ he,” says Bumpkin; +“he be wery young, bean’t he?”</p> +<p>“O,” says Horatio, “they paint up so; but +ain’t he got a tenor—O gemminey crikery!”</p> +<p>“A tenner?” says Bumpkin, “what’s thee +mean, ten pun a week?”</p> +<p>“O my eye!” says the youth, “he gets more +than that.”</p> +<p>“It be good wages.”</p> +<p>“Yes, but it’s nothing to what some of em +get,” says Horatio; “why if a man can play the fool +well he can get as much as the Prime Minister.”</p> +<p>“Ah, and thic Prime Minister can play the fool well <!-- +page 331--><a name="page331"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +331</span>at times; it seem to me—they tooked the dooty of +whate and made un too chape.”</p> +<p>“Who’s this?” asks Horatio of the +waiter.</p> +<p>“Patti,” says the waiter, “at the express +wish of the Queen.”</p> +<p>Bumpkin nods again, as though there was no end to the grandeur +of the company.</p> +<p>Then comes another no less celebrated, if Horatio was +correct.</p> +<p>“Hullo,” says he, “here’s +Trebelli!”</p> +<p>Now this was too much for the absorbing powers of even a +Bumpkin. Horatio had carried it too far. Not that his +friend had ever heard of the great vocalist, but if you are +inclined for fun pray use names that will go down. Mr. +Bumpkin looked hard at Horatio’s face, on which was just +the faintest trace of a smile. And then he said:</p> +<p>“What a name, <i>Bellie</i>! danged if I doan’t +think thee be stickin it into I,” and then he laughed and +repeated, “thee be stickin it into I.”</p> +<p>“Now for Pagannini!” says Horatio; “now +you’ll hear something. By Jove, he’ll show +you!”</p> +<p>“Why I’ve eerd tell o’ thic Piganiny when I +were a boy,” says Bumpkin, “used to play on one +leg.”</p> +<p>“That’s the man,” says Horatio.</p> +<p>“But this ere man got two legs, how can he be +Piganiny?”</p> +<p>“I don’t know anything about that,” says +Horatio; “what’s it matter how many legs he’s +got, just listen to that!”</p> +<p>“Why danged if that bean’t as much like thic +Cochin Chiner cock o’ mine as ever I eered in my +life.”</p> +<p><!-- page 332--><a name="page332"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +332</span>“Told you so,” says Horatio; “but +keep quiet, you’ll hear something presently.”</p> +<p>And sure enough he did: pig in the straw; sow in the stye; +bull in the meadow; sheep in the fold; everything was +perfect.</p> +<p>Never before had Mr. Bumpkin been so overpowered. He +never before knew what music was. Truly Piganiny was a +deserving man, and a clever one too. Mr. Bumpkin’s +enthusiasm had carried him thus far, when to his great +satisfaction the Lady Flora looked round. It was very nice +of her, because it was as if she wished to know if Mr. Bumpkin +and his friend felt the same rapturous delight as she and her +sister. What a nice face Lady Flora’s was! It +wasn’t unlike the Squire’s eldest +daughter’s. Between that, perhaps, and the +Vicar’s youngest daughter’s.</p> +<p>Then the Countess slightly turned round, her face wearing a +smile of great complaisance, and Mr. Bumpkin could have seen at +once that she was a person of great distinction even if he had +not been informed of her rank. Well, taken for all in all, +it was a night he would never forget, and his only feeling of +regret was that Mrs. Bumpkin was not present to share his +pleasure—the roar of that bull would have just pleased her; +it was so like Sampson.</p> +<p>And now the scene shifters were preparing for another +performance, and were adjusting ropes and fixing poles, and what +not, when, as Mr. Bumpkin was lost in profound meditation, up +rose from her seat the beautiful Lady Flora, and turning round +with a bewitching face, and assuming an air of inexpressible +simplicity, she exclaimed to Mr. Bumpkin in the sweetest of +voices: “O you duck!”</p> +<p><!-- page 333--><a name="page333"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +333</span>Mr. Bumpkin started as if a cannon had exploded in his +face instead of a beautiful young lady. He blushed to the +deepest crimson, and then the lady Flora poured into him a volley +of her sweetiest prettiest laughter. Attacked thus so +suddenly and so effectively, what could he do? He felt +there must be some mistake, and that he ought to apologize. +But the Lady Flora gave him no time; leaning forward, she held +out her hand—</p> +<p>“Beg pardon, +m’lady—thic—I—I.”</p> +<p>Then the Countess rose and smiled upon Mr. Bumpkin, and said +she hoped he wouldn’t mind; her sister was of such a +playful disposition.</p> +<p>The playful one here just touched Mr. Bumpkin under the chin +with her forefinger, and again said he was a “<i>perfect +duck</i>!”</p> +<p>“What be the manin’ o’ this?” said +he. “I be off; come on, sir. This be quite +enough for I.”</p> +<p>“Don’t go like that,” said Lady Flora. +“Oh, dear, dear, what a cruel man!”</p> +<p>“Not a glass of wine,” said the Countess.</p> +<p>“Not one, Mr. Bumpkin!” urged Lady Flora.</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin had risen, and was angry: he was startled at his +name being known: he looked to Horatio, hoping some explanation +might come; but the pale youth had his back to him, and was +preparing to leave the Hall. There were many curious eyes +looking at them, and there was much laughter. Mr. +Bumpkin’s appearance would alone have been sufficient to +cause this: but his mind was to be farther enlightened as to the +meaning of this extraordinary scene; and it happened in this +wise. As he was proceeding between the rows of people, +followed closely by those illustrious members of the aristocracy, +the Countess and Lady <!-- page 334--><a name="page334"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 334</span>Flora; while the waiters grinned and +the people laughed, his eye caught sight of an object away over +the front seat, which formed a right angle with the one he had +been occupying; it was an object unattractive in itself but +which, under the circumstances, fixed and riveted his attention; +that object was Snooks, in the corner of the third row, with his +sawpit mouth on the broadest grin.</p> +<h2><!-- page 335--><a name="page335"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 335</span>CHAPTER XXXV.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">The trial.</p> +<p>Who shall describe the feelings of joy which animated the +breast of Mr. Bumpkin when at last, with the suddenness of +lightning, Mr. Prigg’s clerk flashed into his little +parlour the intelligence, “Case in paper; be at Court by +ten o’clock; Bail Court.” Such was the telegram +which Mr. Bumpkin got his landlady to read on that pleasant +evening towards the end of July. The far-seeing Prigg was +right. It would come on about the end of July. That +is what he had predicted. But it would not have been safe +for Mr. Bumpkin to be away from town for a single day. It +might have been in the paper at any moment; and here it was, just +as he was beginning to get tired of “Camden Town and the +whole thing.”</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin put on a clean shirt, with a good stiff high +collar, which he had reserved from Mrs. Bumpkin’s wash; +for, in his opinion, there was no stiffening in the London +starch, and no getting up like Mrs. Bumpkin’s. He put +on his best neckerchief, and a bran new waistcoat which he had +bought for Sundays six years ago at the market town. He put +on his drab coat with the long tails, which he had worn on the +day of his marriage, and had kept for his best ever since; he put +on his velvety <!-- page 336--><a name="page336"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 336</span>looking corduroy trowsers and his +best lace-up watertight boots; and then, after a good breakfast, +put on his white beaver hat, took his ash-stick, and got into a +Westminster ‘Bus. What a beautiful morning it +was! Just the morning for a law suit! Down he got at +Palace Yard, walked towards the spacious door of the old hall, +entered its shadowy precincts, and then, in my dream, I lost +sight of him as he mingled with the crowd. But I saw some +few moments after in the Bail Court enter, amidst profound +silence and with impressive dignity, Mr. Justice Stedfast. +Let me here inform the reader that if by any chance, say by +settlement, postponement or otherwise, the first case in the list +“goes off,” as it is called (from its bearing a +striking resemblance to the unexpected going off of a gun), and +the parties in the next case, taken by surprise, are not there at +the moment, that case goes off by being struck out; and very +often the next and the next, and so on to the end of the +list. Parties therefore should be ready, so as to prevent a +waste of time. The time of the Court is not to be wasted by +parties not being ready. Now, strangely enough, this is +what happened in the case of <i>Bumpkin</i> v. +<i>Snooks</i>. Being number eight, no one thought it would +be reached; and the leading counsel, and also the junior counsel +being engaged elsewhere; and Mr. Prigg and Mr. Prigg’s +clerk not having arrived; and Mr. Bumpkin not knowing his way; at +five minutes after the sitting of the Court, so expeditious are +our legal proceedings, the celebrated case was actually reached, +and this is what took place:</p> +<p>“Are the parties ready?” inquired his +Lordship.</p> +<p>Mr. Ricochet, Q.C., who appeared with Mr. Weasel for the +defendant, said he was ready for the defendant.</p> +<p><!-- page 337--><a name="page337"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +337</span>“Call the plaintiff!” said a voice.</p> +<p>Loud cries for Bumpkin, who was just pushing his way down the +passage outside.</p> +<p>“Does anyone answer?” asked his lordship; +“do you know if any gentleman is instructed, Mr. +Ricochet?”</p> +<p>“I am not aware, my lud.”</p> +<p>“Stand up and be sworn, gentlemen,” says the +associate. Up stood the jury; and in less than half a +minute they found a verdict for the defendant, counterclaim being +abandoned, just as Mr. Bumpkin had pushed into Court. And +judgment is given.</p> +<p>The business having been thus got through, the Court rose and +went away. And then came in both counsel and Mr. Prigg and +Horatio; and great complaints were made of everybody except the +Judge, who couldn’t help it.</p> +<p>But our administration of justice is not so inelastic that it +cannot adapt itself to a set of circumstances such as +these. It was only to make a few more affidavits, and to +appear before his lordship by counsel, and state the facts in a +calm and respectful manner, to obtain the necessary rectification +of the matter. All was explained and all forgiven. +<i>Bumpkin</i> v. <i>Snooks</i> was to be restored to the paper +upon payment of the costs of the day—a trifling matter, +amounting only to about eighteen pounds seventeen +shillings. But a severe admonition from the Bench +accompanied this act of grace: “The Court cannot be kept +waiting,” said his lordship; “and it is necessary +that all suitors should know that if they are not here when their +cases are called on they will be struck out, or the party to the +cause who is here will be entitled to a verdict, if the +defendant; or to try his case in the other’s absence, if he +be the plaintiff. It was idle to suppose <!-- page 338--><a +name="page338"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 338</span>that +parties could not be there in time: it was their business to be +there.”</p> +<p>At this every junior barrister nodded approvingly, and the +usher called silence.</p> +<p>Of course, the cause could not be in the paper again for some +time: they must suit Mr. Ricochet’s convenience now: and +accordingly another period of waiting had to be endured. +Mr. Bumpkin was almost distracted, but his peace of mind was +restored by the worthy Prigg, who persuaded him that a most +laudable piece of good fortune had been brought about by his +intervention; and that was the preventing the wily Snooks from +keeping the verdict he had snatched.</p> +<p>What a small thing will sometimes comfort us!</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin was, indeed, a lucky man; for if his case had not +been in the paper when at last it was, it would have “gone +over the Long Vacation.”</p> +<p>At length I saw Mr. Justice Pangloss, the eminent Chancery +Judge, take his seat in the Bail Court. He was an immense +case lawyer. He knew cases that had been tried in the +reigns of the Edwards and Henries. A pig case could not, +therefore, come amiss.</p> +<p>A case lawyer is like Moses and Sons; he can fit anybody, from +Chang down to a midget. But there is sometimes an +inconvenience in trying to fit an old precedent on to new +circumstances: and I am not unfrequently reminded of the boy +whose corduroy trousers were of the exact length, and looked +tolerable in front; but if you went round they stuck out a good +deal on the other side. He might grow to them, no doubt, +but it is a clumsy mode of tailoring after all.</p> +<p>Now Mr. Bumpkin, of course, could not be sure that his case +was “coming on.” All he knew was, that he <!-- +page 339--><a name="page339"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +339</span>must avoid Snooks’ snatching another +verdict. He had been to great expense, and a commission had +actually been issued to take Joe’s evidence while his +regiment was detained at Malta. Mr. Prigg had taken the +plaintiff into a crowd, and there had left him early in the +morning.</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin’s appearance even in the densest crowd was +attractive, to say the least: and many and various were the +observations from time to time made by the vulgar roughs around +as to his personal appearance. His shirtcollar was greatly +praised, so was the beauty of his waistcoat: while I heard one +gentleman make an enquiry which showed he was desirous of +ascertaining what was the name of the distinguished firm which +had the honour of supplying him with hats. One said it was +Heath, he could tell by the brim; another that it was Cole, he +went by the polish; and the particular curl of the brim, which no +other hatter had ever succeeded in producing. While another +gentleman with one eye and half a nose protested that it was one +of Lincoln and Bennett’s patent dynamite resisters on an +entirely new principle.</p> +<p>The subject of all these remarks listened as one in doubt as +to whether they were levelled at him or in any other +direction. He glanced at the many eyes turned upon him, and +heard the laughter that succeeded every new witticism. His +uncertainty as to whether he was “the party eamed +at,” heightened the amusement of the wits.</p> +<p>Now came a bolder and less mistakable allusion to his personal +appearance:</p> +<p>“I should like Gladstone to see that, Jem; talk about +<!-- page 340--><a name="page340"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +340</span>a collar! the Grand Old Man’s +nowhere—he’d better take to turndowns after +this.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” replied the gentleman addressed; “I +think this would settle him—is he liberal or tory, I +wonder?”</p> +<p>“Tory, you’re sure—wotes for the Squoire, +I’ll warrant. A small loaf and a big jail.”</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin turned his eyes first towards one speaker and then +towards another without moving his head, as he thought:</p> +<p>“Danged if I doan’t bleeve thee means +I.” But he wisely said nothing.</p> +<p>“I say,” said another, “I wonder if +pigeon’s milk is good for the complexion.”</p> +<p>“No,” said Jem, “it makes your nose red, and +makes the hair sprout out of the top of it.”</p> +<p>Here was a laugh all round, which made the Usher call out +silence; and the Judge said he would have the Court cleared if +order was not preserved. Then there was a loud shouting all +over the Court for “Thomas Bumpkin!”</p> +<p>“Here I be!” said Bumpkin, amid more +laughter—and especially of the wits around him. Then +a great bustling and hustling, and pushing and struggling took +place.</p> +<p>“Danged if that beant my case,” said Mr. Bumpkin; +“but it ain’t my counsellor.”</p> +<p>“Make way for the plaintiff,” shouted the Usher; +“stand on one side—don’t crowd up this +passage. This way, sir, make haste; the Court’s +waiting for you, why do you keep the Court waiting in this +way?”</p> +<p>“I was just going to strike your case out,” said +the Judge, “the public time can’t be wasted in this +way.”</p> +<p>Bumpkin scrambled along through the crowd, and was <!-- page +341--><a name="page341"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +341</span>hustled into the witness-box. The Judge put up +his eye-glass, and looked at the plaintiff as though he was +hardly fit to bring an action in a Superior Court. Up went +the book into his hand. “Take the book in your right +hand. Kiss the book; now attend and speak up—speak up +so that those gentlemen may hear.”</p> +<p>“Why weren’t you here before?” asked the +Judge.</p> +<p>“I wur, my lord?”</p> +<p>“Didn’t you hear your learned counsel opening your +case?”</p> +<p>“I didn’t know it wur my case,” said +Bumpkin, amid roars of laughter.</p> +<p>“I don’t wonder at that,” said Mr. Ricochet, +looking at the jury.</p> +<p>“Now then,” said the Judge.</p> +<p>“And now, then,” said Mr. Silverspoon; for neither +of his own counsel was able to be present.</p> +<p>“You are a farmer, I believe?”</p> +<p>“I be.”</p> +<p>“On the 29th of May, 18--; did the defendant come to +your farm?”</p> +<p>“Ur did.”</p> +<p>“Did he buy a pig?”</p> +<p>“Ur did not; but ur said he’d be d---d if ur +wouldn’t ’ave un.”</p> +<p>“And did he come and take it away?”</p> +<p>“Ur did; pulled un slick out of the sty; and when I +tried to stop un in the Lane, took un by main force?”</p> +<p>Mr. Silverspoon sat down.</p> +<p>“What was the age of this pig, Mr. Bumpkin,” +enquired the Judge.</p> +<p>“He wur ten weeks old, your lord.”</p> +<p><!-- page 342--><a name="page342"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +342</span>“Isn’t there a calf case, Mr. Ricochet, +very similar to this?”</p> +<p>“Yes, my lord.”</p> +<p>“I think,” said Mr. Justice Pangloss, “it +was tried in the reign of James the First.”</p> +<p>Mr. Ricochet, who knew nothing of the calf case, except what +his Lordship had told him, said he believed it was.</p> +<p>“If this was anything,” continued Mr. Ricochet, +“upon the plaintiff’s own showing it was a felony, +and the plaintiff should have prosecuted the defendant criminally +before having recourse to his civil remedy; that is laid down in +the sheep case reported in Walker’s Trumpery +Cases.”</p> +<p>“What volume of the Trumpery Cases is that, Mr. +Ricochet?”</p> +<p>“Six hundred and fifty, my lud.”</p> +<p>His Lordship writes it down. “Page?” says +his lordship.</p> +<p>“Nineteen hundred and ninety-five, my lud; about the +middle of the book.”</p> +<p>Judge calls to the Usher to bring the six hundred and fiftieth +volume of Walker’s Trumpery Cases.</p> +<p>“But there’s a case before that,” said his +lordship. “There’s a case, if I recollect +rightly, about the time of Julius Cæsar—the donkey +case.”</p> +<p>“It’s on all fours with this,” said Mr. +Ricochet.</p> +<p>“What do you say, Mr. Silverspoon?”</p> +<p>Then Mr. Silverspoon proceeded to show that none of those +cases was on all fours with the present case; and a long and +interesting argument followed between the Bench and the +Bar. And it was said by those who were most competent to +judge, that Mr. Silverspoon quite <!-- page 343--><a +name="page343"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +343</span>distinguished himself for the wonderful erudition he +displayed in his knowledge of the donkey case, and several other +cases of four-footed beasts that were called to his attention by +Mr. Justice Pangloss. A perfect menagerie was +“adduced.” Mr. Bumpkin meanwhile wondering +where he was, and what on earth they had all got to do with the +plain fact of Snooks taking his pig without paying for it.</p> +<p>At length, after four hours had been consumed in these learned +disquisitions, Mr. Justice Pangloss, reviewing the judgments of +the various eminent lawyers who had presided over the respective +cases in the several reigns, and after quoting many observations +of those eminent jurists, said that in order to save time he +would hold, for the purposes of to-day, that Mr. Bumpkin was +entitled to bring his action: but, of course, he would reserve +the point; he was by no means clear; he considered himself bound +by authority; and as the point was extremely important, and left +undecided after no less than twelve hundred years of argument on +the one side and the other, he thought it ought to be solemnly +settled. An unsettled state of the law was a very bad thing +in his lordship’s opinion; especially in these modern +times, when it appeared to him that the public were clamouring +for further reform, and a still further simplification of legal +procedure.</p> +<p>This suited Mr. Ricochet exactly; he could not be said now to +have lost his case, even if the jury should find against +him. But he had yet to cut up Bumpkin in +cross-examination. The old trial was brought up against the +plaintiff; and every thing that could tend to discredit him was +asked. Mr. Ricochet, indeed, seemed to think that the art +of cross-examination consisted <!-- page 344--><a +name="page344"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 344</span>in bullying +a witness, and asking all sorts of questions tending to cast +reflections upon his character. He was especially great in +insinuating perjury; knowing that that is always open to a +counsel who has no other defence.</p> +<p>“Will you swear that?” was asked at almost every +answer; sometimes prefaced by the warning, “Be careful, +sir—be careful.” If he could get hold of +anything against a witness’s character, be it ever so +small, and at ever so remote a distance in the man’s life, +he brought it out; and being a Queen’s Counsel he did not +always receive the reproofs that would have crushed a stuff +gownsman into respectable behaviour.</p> +<p>“Were you charged with assaulting a female in the public +streets, sir?”</p> +<p>“No, I worn’t.”</p> +<p>“Be careful, sir—she may be in Court.”</p> +<p>“Let her come forward then,” said the courageous +Silverspoon, who was by no means wanting in tact.</p> +<p>“Will you be quiet, sir,” retorted Ricochet. +“Now Mr. Bumpkin, or whatever your name is, will you swear +she did not accuse you of assaulting her?”</p> +<p>“She coomed oop, and it’s my belief she wur in the +robbery.”</p> +<p>“Bravo Bumpkin!” said one of the men who had +chaffed him. And the jury looked at one another in a manner +that showed approval.</p> +<p>“Will you swear, sir, you have never been in +trouble?”</p> +<p>“I donnow what thee means.”</p> +<p>“Be careful, sir; you know what I mean perfectly +well.”</p> +<p>Then Locust whispers to him, and he says:</p> +<p><!-- page 345--><a name="page345"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +345</span>“O, you frequent Music Halls, don’t +you?”</p> +<p>“Donnow what thee means,” says Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“O, you don’t, don’t you; will you swear +that?”</p> +<p>“I wool.”</p> +<p>“Be careful, sir. Were you at the Canterbury Hall +with two women, who passed as the Countess and Lady +Flora?”</p> +<p>“It be a lie!”</p> +<p>And thus every form of torture was ruthlessly employed, till +Mr. Bumpkin broke down under it, and cried like a child in the +witness-box. This awakened sympathy for him. There +had been much humour and much laughter; and Mr. Ricochet having +no knowledge of human nature, was not aware how closely allied +are laughter and tears; that in proportion as the jury had +laughed at the expense of Mr. Bumpkin they would sympathize with +his unhappy position.</p> +<p>“I’ve worked hard,” said he, “for +sixty year, and let any man come forrard and say I’ve +wronged man, ooman, or child!”</p> +<p>That was a point for Bumpkin. Every one said, +“Poor old man!” and even his Lordship, who was +supposed to have no feeling, was quite sympathetic. Only +Mr. Ricochet was obtuse. He had no heart, and very little +skill, or he would have managed his case more adroitly. +“Badgering” is not much use if you have no better +mode of winning your case.</p> +<p>“Stand down, Mr. Bumpkin,” said his counsel, as +Mr. Ricochet resumed his seat amid the suppressed hisses of the +gallery.</p> +<p>“Joseph Wurzel,” said Mr. Silverspoon.</p> +<p>Joe appeared in the uniform of the Hussars. And he wore +a medal too. Mr. Ricochet had no sympathy <!-- page +346--><a name="page346"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +346</span>with heroes any more than he had with men of letters, +artists, or any other class of talent. He was a dry, +uncompromising, blunt, unfeeling lawyer, looking at justice as a +thimblerig looks at his pea; lift which thimble you may, he will +take care the pea shall not be found if he can help it. He +smiled a grim, inhuman smile at Bumpkin’s tears, and +muttered that he was an “unmanly milksop.”</p> +<p>Joe gave his evidence briefly and without hesitation. +Everyone could see he was speaking the truth; everybody but Mr. +Ricochet, who commenced his cross-examination by telling him to +be careful, and that he was upon his oath.</p> +<p>“Be careful, sir;” he repeated.</p> +<p>Joe looked.</p> +<p>“You are on your oath, sir.” Joe faced +him.</p> +<p>“You deserted your master, did you?”</p> +<p>“No,” said Joe; “I aint no +deserter?”</p> +<p>“But you enlisted.”</p> +<p>“I don’t know as that’s desertion,” +said Joe; “and I’m here to speak for him now; and I +give my evidence at Malta, too.”</p> +<p>“Do you swear that, sir?” enquired Mr. +Ricochet. “Were you not with your master when the +young woman accused him of assaulting her?”</p> +<p>“I was not.”</p> +<p>“Why did you enlist, then?” enquired Mr. +Ricochet.</p> +<p>“Cause I choose to,” said Joe.</p> +<p>“Now, sir, upon your oath; I ask you, did you not enlist +because of this charge?”</p> +<p>“No; I never heard on it till arter I was +listed.”</p> +<p><!-- page 347--><a name="page347"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +347</span>“When did you hear of it?”</p> +<p>“At the trial at the Old Bailey.”</p> +<p>“O,” said the learned Q.C.; “wait a minute, +you were there, were you? Were you there as a +witness?”</p> +<p>“No.”</p> +<p>“Why not?”</p> +<p>“Because I warnt.”</p> +<p>“Will you swear that?” asked Ricochet, amid roars +of laughter.</p> +<p>“What were you there for?”</p> +<p>“To hear the trial!”</p> +<p>“And you were not called?”</p> +<p>“No.”</p> +<p>“And do you mean on your oath, sir, to say that you had +enlisted at that time.”</p> +<p>“Now look at that,” said Joe; “the Sergeant +there enlisted me, and he knows.”</p> +<p>“I suppose you had seen your master’s watch many +times?”</p> +<p>“I’d seen it,” said Joe.</p> +<p>“And did not give evidence!”</p> +<p>“No; I warnt called, and know’d nothing about +it.”</p> +<p>“You’ve been paid for coming here, I +suppose?”</p> +<p>“Not a farden, and wouldn’t take un; he bin a good +maister to me as ever lived.”</p> +<p>“And you left him. Now then, sir, be careful; do +you swear you heard Bumpkin say Snooks should not have the +pig?”</p> +<p>“I do.”</p> +<p>“Have you been speaking to anyone about this case before +to-day?”</p> +<p>Joe thought a bit.</p> +<p>“Be careful, sir, I warn you,” says Ricochet.</p> +<p><!-- page 348--><a name="page348"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +348</span>“Yes,” said Joe; “I have.”</p> +<p>“I thought so. When? To whom?”</p> +<p>And here an air of triumph lit up the features of Mr. +Ricochet.</p> +<p>“Afore I comed here.”</p> +<p>“When! let’s have it?”</p> +<p>“Outside the Court.”</p> +<p>“To Bumpkin?”</p> +<p>“No; to that there Locust; he axed un—”</p> +<p>“Never mind what he axed you;” said Ricochet, +whose idea of humour consisted in the repetition of an illiterate +observation; and he sat down—as well he might—after +such an exhibition of the art of advocacy.</p> +<p>But on re-examination, it turned out that Mr. Locust had put +several questions to Joe with a view of securing his evidence +himself at a reasonable remuneration, and of contradicting Mr. +Bumpkin.</p> +<p>This caused the jury to look at one another with grave faces +and shake their heads.</p> +<p>Mr. Ricochet began and continued his speech in the same +common-place style as his cross-examination; abusing everyone on +the other side, especially that respectable solicitor, Mr. Prigg; +and endeavouring to undo his own bad performance with the witness +by a worse speech to the jury. What he was going to show, +and what he was going to prove, was wonderful; everybody who had +been called was guilty of perjury; everybody he was going to call +would be a paragon of all the virtues. He expatiated upon +the great common sense of the jury (as though they were fools), +relied on their sound judgment and denounced the conduct of Mr. +Bumpkin in the witness-box as a piece of artful acting, intended +to appeal to the weakness of the jury. But all was +useless. Snooks <!-- page 349--><a name="page349"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 349</span>made a sorry figure in the +box. He was too emphatic, too positive, too abusive. +Mr. Ricochet could not get over his own cross-examination. +The ridiculous counterclaim with its pettifogging innuendoes +vanished before that common sense of the jury to which Mr. +Ricochet so dryly appealed. The edifice erected by the +modern pleader’s subtle craftiness was unsubstantial as the +icy patterns on the window-pane, which a single breath can +dissipate. And yet these ingenious contrivances were +sufficient to give an unimportant case an appearance of +substantiality which it otherwise would not have possessed.</p> +<p>The jury, after a most elaborate charge from Mr. Justice +Pangloss, who went through the cases of the last 900 years in the +most careful manner, returned a verdict for the plaintiff with +twenty-five pounds damages. The learned Judge did not give +judgment, inasmuch as there were points of law to be +argued. Mr. Bumpkin, although he had won his case so far as +the verdict was concerned, did not look by any means +triumphant. He had undergone so much anxiety and misery, +that he felt more like a man who had escaped a great danger than +one who had accomplished a great achievement.</p> +<p>Snooks’ mouth, during the badgering of the witnesses, +which was intended for cross-examination was quite a study for an +artist or a physiologist. When he thought a witness was +going to be caught, the orifice took the form of a gothic window +in a ruinous condition. When he imagined the witness had +slipped out of the trap laid for him, it stretched horizontally, +and resembled a baker’s oven. He was of too coarse a +nature to suspect that his own counsel had damaged his case, and +believed the result of the trial to have been due to the <!-- +page 350--><a name="page350"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +350</span>plaintiff’s “snivelling.” He +left the Court with a melancholy downcast look, and his only +chance of happiness hereafter in this life seemed now to be in +proportion to his power of making Mr. Bumpkin miserable. +Mr. Locust was not behind in his advice on their future course; +and, after joining his client in the hall, at once pointed out +the utterly absurd conclusion at which the jury had arrived; +declared that there must be friends of the plaintiff among them, +and that Mr. Ricochet would take the earliest opportunity of +moving for a new trial; a piece of information which quite lit up +the coarse features of his client, as a breath of air will bring +a passing glow to the mouldering embers of an ash-heap on a dark +night.</p> +<h2><!-- page 351--><a name="page351"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 351</span>CHAPTER XXXVI.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Motion for rule nisi, in which is displayed +much learning, ancient and modern.</p> +<p>On the following day there was a great array of judicial +talent and judicial dignity sitting in what is called +“Banco,” not to be in any way confounded with +“Sancho;” the two words are totally distinct both as +to their meaning and etymology. In the centre of the Bench +sat Mr. Justice Doughty, one of the clearest heads perhaps that +ever enveloped itself in horsehair. On his right was Mr. +Justice Pangloss, and on his left Mr. Justice Technical.</p> +<p>Then arose from the Queen’s Counsel row, Mr. Ricochet to +apply for a rule <i>nisi</i> for a new trial in the cause of +<i>Bumpkin</i> v. <i>Snooks</i> which was tried yesterday before +Mr. Justice Pangloss.</p> +<p>“Before me?” says Mr. Justice Pangloss.</p> +<p>“Yes, my lud,” says Mr. Ricochet.</p> +<p>“Are you sure?” enquired the learned Judge, +turning over his notes.</p> +<p>“O, quite, my lud.”</p> +<p>“Ah!” says his lordship: “what do you say +the name of the case was?”</p> +<p>“<i>Bumpkin</i> against <i>Snooks</i>, my lud,” +says Mr. Ricochet, Q.C.</p> +<p><!-- page 352--><a name="page352"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +352</span>“Coots; what was it,—a Bill of +Exchange?” asks his lordship.</p> +<p>“Snooks, my lud, Snooks;” says Mr. Ricochet, +“with the greatest deference, my lud, his name is spelt +with an S.”</p> +<p>Judge, still turning over his book from end to end calls to +his clerk, and addressing Mr. Ricochet, says: “When do you +say it was tried, Mr. Ricochet?”</p> +<p>“Yesterday, my lud; with great submission, my lud, I +overheard your ludship say Coots. Snooks, my +lud.”</p> +<p>Then all the Judges cried “Snooks!” as if it had +been a puzzle or a conundrum at a family Christmas party, and +they had all guessed it at once.</p> +<p>“Bring me the book for this term,” said the Judge +sharply to his clerk.</p> +<p>“What was the name of the plaintiff?” enquired Mr. +Justice Doughty.</p> +<p>“Bumpkin, my lud,” said Mr. Ricochet, “with +great deference.”</p> +<p>“Ah, Pumpkin, so it was,” said the presiding +Judge.</p> +<p>“With great submission, my lud, Bumpkin!”</p> +<p>“Eh?”</p> +<p>“Bumpkin, my lud;” and then all the Judges’ +cried “Bumpkin!” as pleased as the followers of +Columbus when they discovered America.</p> +<p>“Ah, here it is,” said Mr. Justice Pangloss, +passing his forefinger slowly along the page; “the name of +the case you refer to, Mr. Ricochet, is <i>Bumpkin</i> v. +<i>Snooks</i>, not <i>Coots</i> v. <i>Pumpkin</i>, and it was +tried before me and a special jury on the twenty-eighth of July +of the present year.”</p> +<p>“Yes, my lud, with all submission.”</p> +<p><!-- page 353--><a name="page353"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +353</span>“Why, that was yesterday,” said Mr. Justice +Pangloss. “Why did you not say so; I was referring to +last year’s book.”</p> +<p>“With all deference, my lud—”</p> +<p>“Never mind, never mind, Mr. Ricochet; let us get +on.”</p> +<p>“What do you move for?” asked Mr. Justice +Doughty.</p> +<p>“A new trial, my lud.”</p> +<p>“A new trial—yes—? Which way was the +verdict, Mr. Ricochet?”</p> +<p>“Verdict for the plaintiff, my lud.”</p> +<p>“And whom do you appear for?”</p> +<p>“I am for the defendant, my lud.”</p> +<p>“O! you’re for the defendant. Stop—let +me have my note correct. I find it always of great +assistance when the rule comes on to be argued. I +don’t say you’re going to have a rule. I must +know a little more of the case before we grant a rule.”</p> +<p>“If your ludship pleases.”</p> +<p>I did not gather what his lordship intended to say when he +made the observations recorded, and can only regret that his +lordship should have broken off so abruptly.</p> +<p>“What ground do you move upon, Mr. Ricochet.”</p> +<p>Mr. Ricochet said, “The usual grounds, my lud; that is +to say, that the verdict was against the weight of +evidence.”</p> +<p>“Stop a minute,” said Mr. Justice Doughty; +“let me have my note correct, ‘against the weight of +evidence,’ Mr. Ricochet.”</p> +<p>“Misdirection, my lud—with all respect to Mr. +Justice Pangloss—and wrongful admission of +evidence.”</p> +<p><!-- page 354--><a name="page354"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +354</span>“What was the action for?”</p> +<p>Now this was a question that no man living had been able to +answer yet. What was in the pleadings, that is, the pattern +of the lawyer’s net, was visible enough; but as regards +merits, I predict with the greatest confidence, that no man will +ever be able to discover what the action of <i>Bumpkin</i> versus +<i>Snooks</i> was about. But it speaks wonders for the +elasticity of our system of jurisprudence and the ingenuity of +our lawyers that such a case could be <i>invented</i>.</p> +<p>“Trespass,” said Ricochet, “was one +paragraph; then there was assault and battery; breach of contract +in not accepting a pig at the price agreed; trespass in seizing +the pig without paying for it; and then, my lud, there were the +usual money counts, as they used to be called, to which the +defendant pleaded, among other pleas, a right of way; an +easement; leave and license; a right to take the pig; that the +pig was the property of the defendant, and various other +matters. Then, my lud, there was a counter-claim for +slander, for assault and battery; for loss of profit which would +have been made if the pig had been delivered according to +contract; breach of contract for the non-delivery of the +pig.”</p> +<p>Mr. Justice Doughty: “This was pig-iron, I +suppose?”</p> +<p>The two other Judges fell back, shaking their sides with +laughter; and then forcibly thrust their hands against their hips +which made their tippets stick out very much, and gave them a +dignified and imposing appearance. Then, seeing the Judges +laugh, all the bar laughed, and all the ushers laughed, and all +the public laughed. The mistake, however, was a very easy +one to fall into, and when Mr. Justice Doughty, who was an <!-- +page 355--><a name="page355"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +355</span>exceedingly good-tempered man, saw the mistake he had +made, he laughed as much as any man, and even caused greater +laughter still by good-humouredly and wittily observing that he +supposed somebody must be a pigheaded man. To which Mr. +Ricochet laughingly replied, that he believed the plaintiff was a +very pigheaded man.</p> +<p>“Now,” said Mr. Justice Pangloss, “have you +considered what Vinnius in his ‘Commentary on Urban +Servitudes’ says.”</p> +<p>Mr. Ricochet said, “Hem!” and that was the very +best answer he could make to the learned Pangloss, and if he only +continues to answer in that manner he’ll get any rule he +likes to apply for—(no, not the Rule of Three, +perhaps).</p> +<p>So Mr. Justice Pangloss went on:</p> +<p>“There are, as Gale says, ‘two classes of +easements distinctly recognised by the Civil +Law—’”</p> +<p>“Hem!” said Ricochet.</p> +<p>“‘Under the head of “Urban +Servitudes—’”</p> +<p>Ricochet: “Hem!”</p> +<p>“‘That a man,’ (continued Mr. Justice +Pangloss), ‘shall receive upon his house or land the +<i>flumen</i> or <i>stillicidium</i> of his +neighbour—’”</p> +<p>“Hem!” coughed Mr. Ricochet, in a very high key; I +verily believe in imitation of that wonderful comedian, J. C. +Clarke.</p> +<p>Then Mr. Justice Pangloss proceeded, to the admiration of the +whole Bar:</p> +<p>“‘The difference,’ says Vinnius, in his +Commentary on this passage, between the <i>flumen</i> and the +<i>stillicidium</i> is this—the latter is the rain falling +from the roof by drops (<i>guttatim et +stillatim</i>).’”</p> +<p><!-- page 356--><a name="page356"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +356</span>“Hem!” from the whole Bar.</p> +<p>“‘The <i>flumen</i>’—”</p> +<p>“I think,” said Mr. Justice Doughty, “you +are entitled to a rule on that point, Mr. Ricochet.”</p> +<p>Then Mr. Justice Technical whispered, and I heard Mr. Justice +Doughty say the principle was the same, although there might be +some difference of opinion about the facts, which could be argued +hereafter. “But what is the misreception of evidence, +Mr. Ricochet? I don’t quite see that.”</p> +<p>“With all submission, my lud, evidence was admitted of +what the solicitor for the defendant said to the +plaintiff.”</p> +<p>“Wait a minute, let me see how that stands,” said +Mr. Justice Doughty; “the solicitor for the defendant said +something to the plaintiff, I don’t quite follow +that.”</p> +<p>Mr. Justice Technical observed that it was quite clear that +what is said by the solicitor of one party to the solicitor of +another party is not evidence.</p> +<p>“O,” said the learned Pangloss, “so far back +as the time of Justinian it was laid down—”</p> +<p>“And that being so,” said the eminent Chancery +Judge, Mr. Justice Technical, “I should go so far as to +say, that what the solicitor of one party says to the client +stands upon the same footing.”</p> +<p>“Precisely,” said Mr. Ricochet</p> +<p>“I think you are entitled to a rule on that +point,” remarked Mr. Justice Doughty, “although my +brother Pangloss seems to entertain some doubt as to whether +there was any such evidence.”</p> +<p>“O, my lud, with all submission, with the greatest +possible deference and respect to the learned Judge, I <!-- page +357--><a name="page357"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +357</span>assure your ludship that it was so, for I have a note +of it.”</p> +<p>“I was about to say,” continued Mr. Justice +Doughty, “as my brother Pangloss says, it may have been +given while he was considering a point in Justinian. What +is the misdirection?”</p> +<p>“O, my lud, the misdirection was, I venture respectfully +and deferentially to submit, and with the utmost deference to the +learned Judge, in his lordship’s telling the jury that if +they found that the right of way which the defendant set up in +his answer to the trespass, or easement—but perhaps, my +lud, I had better read from the short-hand writer’s notes +of his ludship’s summing-up. This is it, my lud, his +ludship said: ‘In an action for stopping of his +<i>ancient</i> lights —.”</p> +<p>“What!” said Mr. Justice Doughty, “<i>did he +black the plaintiff’s eyes</i>, then?”</p> +<p>“No, my lud,” said Mr. Ricochet, “that was +never alleged or suggested.”</p> +<p>“I only used it by way of illustration,” said Mr. +Justice Pangloss.</p> +<p>Then their lordships consulted together, and after about +three-quarters of an hour’s conversation the learned Mr. +Justice Doughty said:</p> +<p>“You can take a rule, Mr. Ricochet.”</p> +<p>“On all points, my lud, if your ludships +please.”</p> +<p>“It will be more satisfactory,” said his lordship, +“and then we shall see what there is in it. At +present, I must confess, I don’t understand anything about +it.”</p> +<p>And I saw that what there was really in it was very much like +what there is in a kaleidoscope, odds and ends, which form all +sorts of combinations when you twist and turn them about in the +dark tube of a “legal argument.” <!-- page +358--><a name="page358"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +358</span>And so poor Bumpkin was deprived of the fruit of his +victory. Truly the law is very expeditious. Before +Bumpkin had got home with the cheerful intelligence that he had +won, the wind had changed and was setting in fearfully from the +north-east. Juries may find as many facts as they like, but +the Court applies the law to them; and law is like gunpowder in +its operation upon them,—twists them out of all +recognisable shape. It is very difficult in a Court of law +to get over “<i>guttatims</i>” and +“<i>stillatims</i>,” even in an action for the price +of a pig.</p> +<h2><!-- page 359--><a name="page359"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 359</span>CHAPTER XXXVII.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Mr. Bumpkin is congratulated by his neighbours +and friends in the market place and sells his corn.</p> +<p>What a lovely peace there was again over the farm! It +was true Mr. Bumpkin had not obtained as large a measure of +damages as his solicitor had led him to anticipate, but he was +triumphant, and that over a man like Snooks was something. +So the damages were forgotten beneath that peaceful August +sky. How bright the corn looked! There was not a +particle of “smut” in the whole field. And it +was a good breadth of wheat this year for Southwood Farm. +The barley too, was evidently fit for malting, and would be sure +to fetch a decent price: especially as they seemed to say there +was not much barley this year that was quite up to the mark for +malting. The swedes, too, were coming on apace, and a +little rain by and by would make them swell considerably. +So everything looked exceedingly prosperous, except perhaps the +stock. There certainly were not so many pigs. Out of +a stye of eleven there was only one left. The sow was +nowhere to be seen. She had been sold, it appeared, so no +more were to be expected from that quarter. When Mr. +Bumpkin asked where “old Jack” was (that was the +donkey), he was informed that “the man” had fetched +it. “The man” <!-- page 360--><a +name="page360"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 360</span>it appeared +was always fetching something. Yesterday it was pigs; the +day before it was ducks; the day before that it was geese; and +about a week ago it was a stack of this year’s hay: a stack +of very prime clover indeed. Then “the man” +took a fancy to some cheeses which Mrs. Bumpkin had in the dairy, +some of her very finest make. She remonstrated, but +“the man” was peremptory. But what most +surprised Mr. Bumpkin, and drew tears from Mrs. Bumpkin’s +eyes, was when the successful litigant enquired how the bull +was.</p> +<p>Mrs. Bumpkin had invented many plans with a view to +“breaking this out” to her husband: and now that the +time had come every plan was a failure. The tears betrayed +her.</p> +<p>“What, be he dead?” enquired Mr. Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“O, no, Tom—no, no—”</p> +<p>“Well, what then?”</p> +<p>“The man!”</p> +<p>“The man! The devil’s in thic man, who be +he? Where do ur come from? I’ll bring an action +agin him as sure’s he’s alive or shoot un dead wi my +gun;” here Mr. Bumpkin, in a great rage, got up and went to +the beam which ran across the kitchen ceiling, and formed what is +called the roof-tree of the house, by the side of which the gun +was suspended by two loops.</p> +<p>“No, no, Tom, don’t—don’t—we +have never wronged any one yet, and don’t—don’t +now.”</p> +<p>“But I wool,” said Bumpkin; “what! be I to +be stripped naaked and not fight for th’ cloathes—who +be thic feller as took the bull?”</p> +<p>Mrs. Bumpkin was holding her apron to her eyes, and for a long +while could say nothing.</p> +<p>“Who be he, Nancy?”</p> +<p><!-- page 361--><a name="page361"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +361</span>“I don’t know, Tom—but he held a +paper in his hand writ all over as close as the stubble-rows in +the field, and he said thee had signed un.”</p> +<p>“Lord! lord!” exclaimed Mr. Bumpkin, and then sat +down on the settle and looked at the fire as though it threw a +light over his past actions. He couldn’t speak for a +long time, not till Mrs. Bumpkin went up to him and laid her hand +upon his shoulder, and said:</p> +<p>“Tom! Tom! thee ha winned the case.”</p> +<p>“Aye, aye,” said Bumpkin, starting up as from a +reverie. “I ha winned, Nancy. I ha beat thic +there Snooks; ur wont snigger now when ur gooes by—lor, +lor,—our counsellor put it into un straight, +Nancy.”</p> +<p>“Did ur, Tom?—well, I be proud.”</p> +<p>“Ah!” said Bumpkin, “and what d’ye +think?—it wornt our counsellor, that is the Queen’s +Counsellor nuther; he wornt there although I paid un, but I +spoase he’ll gie up the money, Nancy?”</p> +<p>“Were it much, Tom?”</p> +<p>“Farty guineas!”</p> +<p>“Farty guineas, Tom! Why, it wur enough to set up +housekeepin wi—and thee only winned twenty-five, Tom; why +thic winnin were a heavy loss I think.”</p> +<p>“Now, lookee ere,” said Bumpkin; “I oughter +had five undered, as Laryer Prigg said, our case were that good, +but lor it baint sartain: gie I a little gin and water, +Nancy—thee ain’t asked I to have a drap since I bin +oame.”</p> +<p>“Lor, Tom, thee knows I be all for thee, and that all be +thine.”</p> +<p>“It beant much, it strikes me; lor, lor, whatever shall +us do wirout pigs and sheep, and wirout thic bull. I be fit +to cry, Nancy, although I winned the case.”</p> +<p><!-- page 362--><a name="page362"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +362</span>Tom had his gin and water and smoked his pipe, and went +to bed and dreamed of all that had taken place. He rose +with the lark and went into the fields and enjoyed once again the +fresh morning air, and the sweet scent of the new hayrick in the +yard; and, without regarding it, the song of the lark as it shot +heavenward and poured down its stream of glad music: but there +was amidst all a sadness of spirit and a feeling of +desolation. It was not like the old times when everything +seemed to welcome him about the farm wherever he went. The +work of “the man” was everywhere. But the +harvest was got in, and a plentiful harvest it was: the corn was +threshed, and one day Mr. Bumpkin went to market with his little +bags of samples of the newly-housed grain. Everybody was +glad to see him, for he was known everywhere as a regular upright +and down-straight man. Every farmer and every corn-dealer +and cattle-dealer congratulated him in his homely way on his +success. They looked at his samples and acknowledged they +were very bright and weighty. “I never liked that +Snooks feller,” was the general cry, and at the +farmers’ ordinary, which was held every market day at the +“Plough,” every one who knew Bumpkin shook hands and +wished him well, and after dinner, before they broke up, Farmer +Gosling proposed his health, and said how proud he “were +that his old neighbour had in the beautiful words o’ the +National Anthem, ‘confounded their politicks’: and he +hoped that the backbone o’ old England, which were the +farmers, wornt gwine to be broked jist yet awhile. Farmin +might be bad, but yet wi little cheaper rents and a good deal +cheaper rates and taxes, there’d be good farmin and good +farmers in England yit.”</p> +<p>Now this speech, I saw in my dream, brought down the <!-- page +363--><a name="page363"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +363</span>house. Everyone said it was more to the point +than the half-mile speeches which took up so much of the +newspapers to the exclusion of murders, burglaries and +divorces. And in truth, now I come to look at it in my +waking moments, I respectfully commend it to our legislators, or +what is better, to their constituencies, as embodying on this +subject both the principles of true conservatism and true +liberalism: and I don’t see what the most exacting of +politicians can require more than that.</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin made a suitable reply—that is to say, +“he wur mighty proud o’ their +neighbourliness—he wur a plaain man, as had made his own +way in the world, or leastwise tried to do un by ard work and +uprightedness and downstraightedness; tried to be straight +forrerd, and nobody as he knowed of could ax un for a +shillin’. But,” he added: “I be praisin +oop myself, neighbours, I be afeard, and I doant wish to do thic, +only to put I straaight afore thee. I beant dead yit, and I +hope we shall all be friends and neighbours, and meet many moore +times at this ornary together.”</p> +<p>And so, delighted with one another, after a glass or two, and +a song or two, the party broke up, all going to their several +farms. Mr. Bumpkin was particularly well pleased, for he +had sold twenty quarters of wheat at forty-nine shillings a +quarter; which, as times went, was a very considerable increase, +showing the excellent quality of the samples.</p> +<p>Sooner or later, however, it must be told, that when Bumpkin +reached his quiet farm, a strange and sad scene presented +itself. Evidences of “<i>the man</i>” were in +all directions. He had been at work while Mr. Bumpkin in +his convivial moments was protesting that he did not <!-- page +364--><a name="page364"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +364</span>owe anyone a shilling. Alas! how little the best +of as know how much we owe!</p> +<p>Mrs. Bumpkin, who had borne up like a true woman through all +the troubles that had come upon her home,—borne up for his +sake, hoping for better days, and knowing nothing of the terrible +net that had been spread around them by the wily fowler, at +length gave way, as she saw “the man” loading his +cart with her husband’s wheat; the wheat he had gone that +day to sell. Bitterly she wrung her hands, and begged him +to spare her husband that last infliction. Was there +anything that she could do or give to save him this blow? +No, no; the man was obstinate in the performance of his duty; +“right was right, and wrong was no man’s +right!”</p> +<p>So when Mr. Bumpkin returned, the greater part of his wheat +was gone, and the rest was being loaded. The beautiful rick +of hay too, which had not yet ceased to give out the fresh scent +that a new rick yields, were being cut and bound into +trusses.</p> +<p>Poor Tom was fairly beside himself, but Mrs. Bumpkin had taken +the precaution to hide the gun and the powder-flask, for she +could not tell what her husband might do in his +distraction. Possibly she was right. Tom’s rage +knew no bounds. Youth itself seemed to be restored in the +strength of his fury. He saw dimly the men standing around +looking on; he saw, as in a dream, the man cutting on the rick, +and he uttered incoherent sentences which those only understood +who were accustomed to his provincial accent.</p> +<p>“Tom, Tom,” said Mrs. Bumpkin, “don’t +be in a rage.”</p> +<p>“Who be thic feller on my rick?”</p> +<p>“I beant any more a feller nor thee, Maister Boompkin; +it aint thy rick nuther.”</p> +<p><!-- page 365--><a name="page365"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +365</span>“Then in the name of h—, whose be +it?”</p> +<p>“It be Maister Skinalive’s; thee can’t have +t’ cake an eat un; thee sowled it to un.”</p> +<p>“It be a lie, a --- lie; come down!”</p> +<p>“Noa, noa, I beant coomin doon till I coot all t’ +hay; it be good hay an all, as sweet as a noot.”</p> +<p>“Where is thy master?” enquired Mrs. Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“I dooant rightly knoo, missus, where ur be; but I think +if thee could see un, he’d poot it right if thee wanted +time loike, and so on, for he be a kind-hearted man +enoo.”</p> +<p>“Can we find un, do ur think?” asked Mrs. +Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“If thee do, missus, it wur moor un I bin able to do for +the last three moonths.”</p> +<p>“I’ll find some un,” said Mr. Bumpkin; +“here, goo and fetch a pleeceman.”</p> +<p>This was said to a small boy who did the bird-minding, and was +now looking on with his mouth wide open, and his eyes actually +shedding tears.</p> +<p>“Ah, fetch a pleeceman an all,” said the man, +thrusting the big hay-knife down into the centre of the rick; +“but take a soop o’ cyder, maister; I dessay thee +feels a bit out o’ sorts loike.”</p> +<p>“Thee darn thief; it be my cyder, too, I’ve a +notion.”</p> +<p>“How can it be thine, maister, when thee ha’ +sowled un?” said the man with his unanswerable logic: +“haw! haw! haw!”</p> +<p>Mrs. Bumpkin held her husband’s hand, and tried her +hardest to keep him from using violence towards the man. +She felt the convulsive twitches of his strong muscles, and the +inward struggle that was shaking his stalwart frame. +“Come away, Tom; come away; let <!-- page 366--><a +name="page366"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 366</span>un do as +they like, we’ll have them as will see us righted +yet. There’s law for un, surely.”</p> +<p>“It beant no use to kick, maister,” said the man, +again ramming the knife down into the rick as though he were +cutting Mr. Bumpkin himself in half, and were talking to him the +while; “it beant no use to kick, maister. Here thee +be; thee owes the man the money, and can’t pay, so ur does +this out of kindness to prevent thee being sowled oop +loike.”</p> +<p>“Here be the pleeceman,” said Mrs. Bumpkin.</p> +<p>Mr. Bumpkin turned suddenly, and shouted, “Tak thic +thief into custody.”</p> +<p>The policeman, albeit a country constable, was a very sensible +man; and seeing how matters stood, he very wisely set himself to +the better task of taking Mr. Bumpkin into custody without +appearing to do so, and without Mr. Bumpkin knowing it.</p> +<p>“Now,” said he, “if so be as you will come +indoors, Mr. Bumpkin, I think we can put our heads together and +see what can be done in this ’ere case; if it’s +stealing let him steal, and I’ll have him nicely; but if it +ain’t stealing, then I woant have him at all.” +(A pause.)</p> +<p>“For why?” (A pause.)</p> +<p>“Because the law gives you other remedies.”</p> +<p>“That be right, pleeceman,” said Bumpkin; +“I’ll goo wi’ thee. Now then, Nancy, +let’s goo; and look ’ere, thee thief, I’ll +ha’ thee in th’ jail yet.”</p> +<p>The man grinned with a mouth that seemed to have been cut with +his own hay-knife, so large was it, and went on with his work, +merely saying: “I dooant charge thee nothin for +cootin’ nor yet for bindin, maister; I does it all free +graatis, loike.”</p> +<p>“Thee d--- thief, thee’ll be paid.”</p> +<p><!-- page 367--><a name="page367"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +367</span>So they went in, and the policeman was quite a +comforter to the poor old man. He talked to him about what +the law was on this point and that point, and how a trespass was +one thing, and a breach of the peace another; and how he +mustn’t take a man up for felony just because somebody +charged him: otherwise, the man on the rick might have charged +Mr. Bumpkin, and so on; till he got the old man into quite a +discussion on legal points. But meanwhile he had given him +another piece of advice, which was also much to his credit, and +that was to send to his solicitor, Mr. Prigg. Mr. Prigg was +accordingly sent for; but, like most good men, was very +scarce. Nowhere could Mr. Prigg be found. But it was +well known, for it was advertised everywhere on large bills, that +the excellent gentleman would take the chair at a meeting, to be +held in the schoolroom in the evening, for the propagation of +Christianity among the Jews. The policeman would be on duty +at that meeting, and he would be sure to see Mr. Prigg, and tell +him Mr. Bumpkin was very desirous to see him as early as possible +on the following day. Mr. Bumpkin was thankful, and to some +extent pacified. As the policeman wished them goodnight, +Mrs. Bumpkin accompanied him to the door, and begged, if he +wouldn’t mind, that he would look in to-morrow, for he +seemed a kind of protection for them.</p> +<p>It was about three in the afternoon of the following day when +good Mr. Prigg drove up to Mr. Bumpkin’s door; he drove up +with the mare that had been Mr. Bumpkin’s cow.</p> +<p>“Here he be,” said Mrs. Bumpkin; and if Mr. Prigg +had been an angel from heaven, his presence could not have been +more welcome. Oh, what sunshine he seemed to bring! +Was it a rainbow round his face, or was it only <!-- page +368--><a name="page368"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +368</span>his genial Christian smile? His collar was +perfect, so was his tie; his head immoveable, so were his +principles. “Dear, dear!” said Mrs. Bumpkin, +“I be so glad thee be come, Mr. Prigg—here be master +takin’ on so as never was; I never see’d anything +like it.”</p> +<p>“What’s the matter, my dear lady?” inquired +the good man.</p> +<p>“Be that loryer Prigg?” shouted a voice from the +inner room.</p> +<p>“Aye, aye, Tom, it be Mr. Prigg.”</p> +<p>“Come in, zur,” said the voice, “come in; I +be mighty glad to see thee. Why dam—”</p> +<p>“Hush!” remonstrated the diffuser of Christianity +among the Jews; “hush!” and his hands were softly +raised in gentle protest—albeit his head never turned so +much as a hair’s breadth. “Let us be calm, my +dear sir, let us be calm. We win by being calm.”</p> +<p>“Ah, we winned the lawsuit; didn’t us, +sir?”</p> +<p>“Ah, that thee did, Tom!” exclaimed Mrs. Bumpkin, +delighted at this momentary gleam of gladness in her +husband’s broken heart.</p> +<p>“Of course we won,” said Mr. Prigg. +“Did I ever entertain a doubt from the first about the +merits of that case?”</p> +<p>“Thee did not, sir,” said Tom; “but lookee +’ere, sir,” he continued, in almost a whisper, +“I dreamt last night as we lost un; and I see thic Snooks a +sniggering as plaain as ever I see’d anybody in my +life.”</p> +<p>“My dear sir, what matters your dream? We won, +sir. And as for Snooks’ sniggering, I am sorry to say +he is sold up.”</p> +<p>“Sold oop!” exclaimed Bumpkin. “Sorry! +why beest thee sorry for un—beant thee sorry for +I?”</p> +<p><!-- page 369--><a name="page369"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +369</span>“Sorry you’ve won, Mr. Bumpkin? No; +but, I’m sorry for Snooks, because we lose our costs. +Oh, that Locust is the greatest dodger I ever met.”</p> +<p>“I don’t understand thee, sir,” said +Bumpkin. “What d’ye mean by not getting +costs—won’t ur pay?”</p> +<p>“I fear not,” said Mr. Prigg, rubbing his +hands. “I am surprised, too, that he should not have +waited until the rule for a new trial was argued.”</p> +<p>“What the devil be the meaning o’ all this?” +exclaimed Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“Really, really,” said the pious diffuser of +Christianity, “we must exercise patience; we may get more +damages if there should be another trial.”</p> +<p>“This be trial enough,” said Mr. Bumpkin; +“and after all it were a trumpery case about a +pig.”</p> +<p>“Quite so, quite so,” said the lawyer, rubbing his +hands; “but you see, my dear sir, it’s not so much +the pig.”</p> +<p>“No, no,” said Mr. Bumpkin, “it beant so +much th’ pig; it be the hoarses moore, and the hayricks, +and the whate, and—where be all my fowls and +dooks?”</p> +<p>“The fowls—quite so! Let me see,” said +the meditative man, pressing the head of his gold pencil-case +against his forehead, “the fowls—let me see—oh, +I know, they did the pleadings—so they did.”</p> +<p>“And thic sow o’ mine?”</p> +<p>“Yes, yes; I think she made an affidavit, if I remember +rightly. Yes, yes—and the bacon,” said he, +elevating his left hand, “six flitches I think there were; +they used to be in this very room—”</p> +<p>“Ay, sure did ur,” said Mr. Bumpkin.</p> +<p><!-- page 370--><a name="page370"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +370</span>“Well I remember; they made a very splendid +affidavit too: I have a note of all of them in my +memory.”</p> +<p>“What coomed o’ the cows?”</p> +<p>“Cows? Yes—I have it—our leading +counsel had them; and the calf, if I remember rightly, went to +the junior.”</p> +<p>‘“Who had the cheeses?” inquired Mr. +Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“Cheeses!” said the good man. “Oh, +yes, the cheeses; they went in refreshers.”</p> +<p>“And the poor old donkey?” asked Mrs. Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“Ah, where be Jock?” said Mr. Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“Went for the opinion,” answered the lawyer.</p> +<p>“Where be thic bull o’ mine?” said +Tom. “He wur the finest bull in all thic county, +woren’t he, Nancy?”</p> +<p>“Ay,” answered Mrs. Bumpkin, “and ur +follered I about, Tom, jist like a Christian.”</p> +<p>“So ur did, Nancy. Dost thee mind, when ur got +through thic gap into Squire Stucky’s meadow, ’mong +the cows?”</p> +<p>“Ay, Tom; and thee went and whistled un; but ur +wouldn’t come for thy whistlin; and Joe, poor Joe! went and +got a great stick.”</p> +<p>“There I mind un,” said Bumpkin; “what +coomed of un, Master Prigg?”</p> +<p>“Quite so,” said Mr. Prigg; “quite so; let +me see.” And again the gold pencil-case was pressed +against his respectable forehead in placid cogitation. +“Yes, that bull argued the appeal.”</p> +<p>“Hem!” said Mr. Bumpkin; “argied appeal, did +ur? Well, I tell ee what, Master Prigg, if that air bull +’ad knowed what I knows now, he’d a gi’en them +jusseses a bit o’ his mind, and thee too.”</p> +<p><!-- page 371--><a name="page371"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +371</span>“Dear me,” said Mr. Prigg; “you +entirely mis-apprehend—”</p> +<p>“Well, lookee ’ere,” said Tom, “it +beant no use to mince matters wi’ ee. What I wants to +know is as this; I winned my case—”</p> +<p>“Quite so,” said Prigg.</p> +<p>“And ’ow be it then that all my sheep and things +be took off the farm?”</p> +<p>“Dear me!” said Mr. Prigg, in the tone of an +injured man; “I think, of all men, clients are the most +ungrateful. I have worked night and day to serve you; I +have sacrificed my pleasures, which I do not reckon—my home +comforts—”</p> +<p>“But who be thic feller that steals my corn an’ +hay, and pigs?”</p> +<p>“Really, Mr. Bumpkin, this is language which I did not +expect from you.”</p> +<p>“But ’ow comes my farm stripped, Maister Prigg? +tell I thic.”</p> +<p>“I suppose you have given a bill of sale, Mr. +Bumpkin. You are aware that a lawsuit cannot be carried on +without means, and you should have calculated the cost before +going to war. I think there is Scripture authority for +that.”</p> +<p>“Then have this Skinalive feller the right to take +un?”</p> +<p>“I presume so,” said Prigg; “I know +he’s a most respectable man.”</p> +<p>“A friend o’ thine, I s’poase?”</p> +<p>“Well,” said Prigg, hesitating, “I may even +go so far as to say that.”</p> +<p>“Then I be gwine so fur as to say thee be a damned +rogue!” said Mr. Bumpkin, rising, and thumping the table +with great vehemence.</p> +<p><!-- page 372--><a name="page372"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +372</span>You might have knocked Mr. Prigg down with a feather, +certainly with a bludgeon; such a shock he had never received at +the hands of a client in the whole course of his professional +experience. He rose and drew from his pocket an envelope, a +very large official-looking envelope, such as no man twice in his +life would like to see, even if he could be said to enjoy the +prospect once.</p> +<p>It is not usual for respectable solicitors to carry about +their bills of costs in their pockets, and why Mr. Prigg should +have done so on this occasion I am not aware. I merely saw +in my dream that he did so. There was not a change in his +countenance; his piety was intact; there was not even a suffusion +of colour. Placid, sweet-tempered, and urbane, as a +Christian should be, he looked pityingly towards the hot and +irascible Bumpkin, as though he should say, “You have +smitten me on this cheek, now smite me on that!” and placed +the great envelope on the table before the ungrateful man.</p> +<p>“What be thic?” inquired Mr. Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“A list of my services, sir,” said Prigg, meekly: +“You will see there, ungrateful man, the sacrifices I have +made on your behalf; the journeyings oft; the hunger, and, I may +say, thirst; the perils of robbers, the perils amongst false +friends, the—”</p> +<p>“I doant understand, sir,” said Bumpkin.</p> +<p>“Because darkness hath blinded your eyes,” said +the pious lawyer; “but I leave you, Mr. Bumpkin, and I will +ask you, since you no longer repose confidence in my judgment and +integrity, to obtain the services of some other professional +gentleman, who will conduct your case with more zeal and fidelity +than you think I have shown; I who have carried your cause to a +triumphant issue; <!-- page 373--><a name="page373"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 373</span>and may be said to have established +the grand principle that an Englishman’s house is his +castle.”</p> +<p>And with this the good man, evidently affected by deep +emotion, shook hands silently with Mrs. Bumpkin, and disappeared +for ever from my view.</p> +<p>Never in any dream have I beheld that man again. Never, +surely, under any form of humanity have so many virtues been +concealed. I have looked for him in daily life, about the +Courts of Justice and in the political arena, but his equal for +simplicity of character, for unaffected piety, and purity of +motive, have I never discovered, although I have seen many, who, +without his talents, have vainly endeavoured to emulate his +virtues.</p> +<p>Mrs. Bumpkin examined the document he had left, and found a +most righteous statement of the services rendered by this great +and good man; which, after giving credit to Mr. Bumpkin for cash +received from Mr. Skinalive, Mr. Prigg’s friend, of seven +hundred and twenty-two pounds, six shillings and +eightpence-half-penny, left a balance due to Honest Lawyer Prigg +of three hundred and twenty-eight pounds, seven shillings and +threepence,—subject, of course, to be reduced on +taxation.</p> +<h2><!-- page 375--><a name="page375"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 375</span>CHAPTER XXXVIII.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Farewell.</p> +<p>The last chapter of a book must always possess a special and +melancholy interest for the author. He gives his words +reluctantly, almost grudgingly, like one who is spending his last +coins and will soon be left penniless upon the world. Or +like one who is passing his last moments at the house of a friend +whom he may see no more for ever. The author is taking +farewell of his characters and his readers, and therefore his +regret is twofold; added to which is the doubt as to whether, +judged by the severe standard of Public Opinion, he has been +faithful to both. Thought is large, and may fill the world, +permeating every class and every section of society; it may be +circumscribed, and operate only upon some infinitesimal +proportion of mankind: but whether great or small, for good or +evil, it is published, and a corresponding responsibility +devolves upon the writer. I record my dream faithfully, and +am therefore exonerated, in my conscience, from responsibility in +its effect.</p> +<p>How shall I describe the closing scene of this eventful +story? I will imagine nothing; I will exaggerate nothing; +for, during the whole progress of the story, it has been my +constant care not to give the most captious critic the +opportunity of saying that I have exaggerated a single +incident. I will relate faithfully what I saw in <!-- page +376--><a name="page376"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 376</span>my +dream, and that only; diminishing nothing, and adding +nothing.</p> +<p>In my waking moments my wife said it was very wrong of Mr. +Bumpkin, after all that Mr. Prigg had done for him, to be so +rude. I agreed that it was: but said, great allowance must +be made for Mr. Bumpkin’s want of education. Then +said my wife, “Will not some shallow-minded persons say +that your story attacks the administration of +justice?” To which I replied that it did not matter +what shallow-minded persons said, but that in fact I had in no +way attacked the administration of justice; nor had I in the +least degree reflected on the great body of respectable +solicitors who had in their hands the interests of the country, +and faithfully discharged their duties. And then I stood +up, and putting forth my hand in imitation of Pitt’s statue +in the corridor of the House of Commons, I said, “Justice +is Divine, not Human; and you cannot detract from anything that +is Divine, any more than you can lessen the brilliancy of the +sun. You may obscure its splendour to mortal eyes, but its +effulgence is the same. Man may so ostensibly assert his +own dignity, or the dignity of a perishable system, that it may +temporarily veil the beauty of a Divine attribute; but Justice +must still remain the untarnished glory of Divine wisdom. +It is not the pomp of position or the majesty of office that +imparts dignity to Justice.”</p> +<p>Here, exhausted with my effort, and with my wife’s +applause ringing in my ears, I fell asleep again, and dreamed +that I saw Bumpkin sadly wandering about the old farm; his +faithful wife following, and never for one moment ceasing to +cheer him up. It was a fine bright morning in October as +they wandered <!-- page 377--><a name="page377"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 377</span>forth. There wasn’t a +living thing about the farm except the birds, and even they +seemed sad in their twittering. Could it be possible that +they knew of poor Bumpkin’s miserable condition?</p> +<p>There was an old jackdaw that certainly did; for he hopped and +hopped along after the master with the saddest expression I ever +saw bird wear. But the master took no notice. On and +on he wandered, seemingly unconscious of the presence even of his +wife.</p> +<p>“Tom!” she said, “Tom, where beest thee +gwine?”</p> +<p>Bumpkin started; turned round, and said:</p> +<p>“Nancy! what, be it thee, lassie?”</p> +<p>“Ay, Tom, sure enough it be I. Let’s cheer +up, Tom. If the worst come to the worst—we can but +goo to Union.”</p> +<p>“The wust have come to th’ wust, Nancy; we be +ruined! Look at this ’ere farm—all be +bare—all be lost, Nancy. Hark how silent it all +be!”</p> +<p>“Never mind, Tom; never mind. I wish Joe wur +here.”</p> +<p>“Ah! Joe, yes. I wonder where Joe be; praps he be +out here in th’ six akre.”</p> +<p>“No, no, Tom, he be gwine for a sojer; but I’ve a +mind he’ll come back. And who knows, we may be +’appy yet! We’ve worked hard, Tom, together +these five-and-thirty year, and sure we can trudge on t’ +th’ end. Come, let’s goo in and ave some +breakfast.”</p> +<p>But Tom kept on walking and looking round the fields after his +old manner.</p> +<p>“I think we’ll ave wuts here,” said he.</p> +<p>“So ur will, Tom, but let’s have breakfast +fust. Come, lad.”</p> +<p>They wandered still through the quiet fields, and the old +man’s mind seemed giving way. But I saw that <!-- +page 378--><a name="page378"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +378</span>Mrs. Bumpkin kept up with him and cheered him whenever +she could put in a word of comfort, cold and hopeless as it +was. And so the day was spent, and the night came, and they +entered their home for the last time. It was a terribly sad +night; but the Vicar came and sat up late with the old people, +and talked to them and read and cried with them, until at last +Tom said:</p> +<p>“I zee it, sir, thee hast showed I; thank God for thy +words. Yes, yes, we maun leave t’ morrer, and +we’ll call on thee, and maybe thou’lt goo to +th’ Squire wi’ us and explaain to un how we +can’t pay our rent, and may be th’ Squire’ll +let I work un out. If we could only work un out, I’d +be ’appy.”</p> +<p>“Ay, Tom,” said Mrs. Bumpkin, “an I’ll +work too; thee knows that.”</p> +<p>“Thee wast allays a good wife, Nancy; and I’ll +allays say’t, come what wooll.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said the Vicar, “to-morrow we will +go—”</p> +<p>“I don’t want un to forgive I th’ +rent,” said Tom; “only to gie us time, and Nancy and +I’ll work un out.” And so it was arranged that +the next morning the old home was to be left for ever. It +was no longer home, for every article of furniture, every tool, +every scrap that was of any value had been ruthlessly seized by +the heartless money-lender whom the Law permitted to rob under +the name of a bill of sale. The man was in possession to +take away their bed and the few other articles that were left for +their accommodation till the morrow.</p> +<p>And on the morrow I saw the last of poor Bumpkin that I shall +ever see. In the beautiful sunshine of that October +morning, just by the old oak, he was leaning over the gate +looking his last at the dear old fields and the old farm-house +where so many happy years had been <!-- page 379--><a +name="page379"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +379</span>spent. By his side was his wife, with her hand +shading her eyes; the old dog was between them, looking into the +face now of Tom and then of his wife. Mr. Bumpkin’s +arms were resting on the gate, and his old ash stick that he used +to walk with over the fields was in his hand. They stood +there for a long, long time as though they could never leave +it. And I saw the tears trickle down the old man’s +face as Mrs. Bumpkin, letting fall the corner of her apron, which +she had held to her eyes, and placing her arm through his, said +in a faltering voice:—</p> +<p>“Come, Tom, we must goo.”</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center">THE END.</p> +<h2><!-- page 381--><a name="page381"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 381</span>THE LAWSUIT.</h2> +<p class="poetry">Tom Bumpkin was a thriving man,<br /> + As all the world could see;<br /> +In forty years he’d raised himself<br /> + From direst poverty.</p> +<p class="poetry">And now he rented from the Squir<br /> + Some acres, near a score;<br /> +Some people said ’twas twenty-five,<br /> + And some that it was more.</p> +<p class="poetry">He had a sow of rare brave breed,<br /> + And nine good pigs had he;<br /> +A cow and calf, a rick of hay,<br /> + And horses he had three.</p> +<p class="poetry">And Mrs. Bumpkin had a bull,<br /> + The finest creature out;<br /> +“And, like a Christian,” so she said,<br /> + “It follered her about.”</p> +<p class="poetry">So Bumpkin was a thriving man,<br /> + As all the world could see;<br /> +A self-made man, but yet not made<br /> + Of scholarship was he.</p> +<p class="poetry">With neighbour Snooks he dealings had<br /> + About his latest farrow;<br /> +Snooks said he’d bought a pig, and so,<br /> + To prove it, brought his barrow.</p> +<p class="poetry">Tom said, “It wur to be two +crowns;”<br /> + Snooks said, “Twur nine-and-six;”<br /> +Then Tom observed, “You doan’t ’ave me<br /> + Wi none o’ them there tricks.”</p> +<p class="poetry">So there was battle; Lawyer Prigg<br /> + Was told this tale of woe;<br /> +The Lawyer rubbed his bony hands<br /> + And said, “I see; quite so!”</p> +<p class="poetry"><!-- page 382--><a name="page382"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 382</span>“A case of +trespass,”—“Ay zo ’t be!”<br /> + Said Bumpkin, feeling big;<br /> +“Now mak un pay vor’t, mak un pay;<br /> + It beant so much th’ pig.”</p> +<p class="poetry">“No, no, it’s not so much the +pig,<br /> + That were a matter small;<br /> +Indeed, good Bumpkin, we may say<br /> + It’s not the pig at all!</p> +<p class="poetry">“It’s more the <i>principle</i> +involved,<br /> + The rights of man, you see”—<br /> +“Ay, ay,” quoth Tom; “the devil’s +in’t<br /> + ’F I beant as good as he.”</p> +<p class="poetry">There never was a man more prompt<br /> + Or swift to strike a blow:<br /> +Give but the word, and Charger Prigg<br /> + Was down upon the foe.</p> +<p class="poetry">The <span class="smcap">Letter</span>, <span +class="smcap">Writ</span>, and <span +class="smcap">Statement</span> went<br /> + Like lightning, thunder, rain;<br /> +<span class="smcap">Inspection</span> and <span +class="smcap">Discovery</span> rode<br /> + Like Uhlans o’er the plain!</p> +<p class="poetry">Then <span class="smcap">Interrogatories</span> +flew<br /> + Without procrastination:<br /> +As when the ambushed outposts give<br /> + A deadly salutation.</p> +<p class="poetry">Now Snooks’s lawyer was a man<br /> + To wrong would never pander;<br /> +And like a high-souled Pleader drew<br /> + A <span class="smcap">Counterclaim</span> for +slander;</p> +<p class="poetry">And then with cautious skill behind<br /> + The legal outworks clambers;<br /> +Until dislodged, he held his own<br /> + Entrenched in Judges’ Chambers.</p> +<p class="poetry">At length came battle hot and fierce,<br /> + And points reserved as though<br /> +The case must be economized,<br /> + Not murdered at a blow.</p> +<p class="poetry"><!-- page 383--><a name="page383"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 383</span>Then came appeals upon the +points,<br /> + New trials on the facts;<br /> +More points, more learned arguments,<br /> + More precedents and Acts.</p> +<p class="poetry">But <span class="smcap">Law</span>, thou art a +tender plant<br /> + That needs must droop and die;<br /> +And bear no fruit unless thy root<br /> + Be watered constantly:</p> +<p class="poetry">And Bumpkin with a generous hand<br /> + Had given thee good supply;<br /> +He drained the well, and yet withal<br /> + The noble Prigg was dry.</p> +<p class="poetry">With plaintive look would move a stone,<br /> + Tom gazed on Lawyer Prigg:<br /> +Who rubbed his hands and said, “You see,<br /> + It’s not so much the pig.”</p> +<p class="poetry">“Noa, noa, it be th’ horses +moore,<br /> + The calf and sheep and kine,<br /> +Where be th’ hay-rick and the straw?<br /> + And where thic bull o’ mine?”</p> +<p class="poetry">The Lawyer said, “Quite so, quite +so!”<br /> + Looked wise, and wisely grinned;<br /> +For Tom was like a ship becalmed,<br /> + He stopped for want of wind.</p> +<p class="poetry">“You see,” said Prigg with +gravity<br /> + Would almost make you laugh,<br /> +“Our leading Counsel had the Cow,<br /> + The junior had the Calf.</p> +<p class="poetry">“The hay and straw <i>Rules nisi</i> +got,<br /> + Made <i>Absolute</i> with corn,<br /> +The pigs made <i>Interrogat’ries</i>,<br /> + Most beautifully drawn.</p> +<p class="poetry">“The Bacon—ah, dear Bumpkin, few<br +/> + In Law suits ever save it;<br /> +It made together with the sow,<br /> + A splendid <i>Affidavit</i>.</p> +<p class="poetry"><!-- page 384--><a name="page384"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 384</span>“The cocks and hens the +<i>Pleadings</i> did<br /> + Most exquisitely utter;<br /> +And some few pans of cream there were,<br /> + Which made the <i>Surre-butter</i>.”</p> +<p class="poetry">“Why, Surrey butter! I’d a +tub<br /> + The best in this ere nation”—<br /> +“Quite so!” said Prigg; “but you forget,<br /> + ’Twas used in <i>Consultation</i>.”</p> +<p class="poetry">“Well, well, of all the hungry mouths,<br +/> + There’s nothing like the Law’s;<br /> +No wonder they can talk if that<br /> + Be how they iles their jaws.</p> +<p class="poetry">“Now just look ere; I’d twenty +cheese,<br /> + The finest of old Cheshires,”—<br /> +“Quite so, quite so!” said Prigg; “but they<br +/> + Just furnished the <i>Refreshers</i>.</p> +<p class="poetry">“The Ass for the <i>Opinion</i> went;<br +/> + The Horses, <i>Costs</i> between us;<br /> +And all the Ducks and Drakes, my boy,<br /> + Were turned into <span +class="smcap">Subpœnas</span>.”</p> +<p class="poetry">“I zee it all; the road to Ruin,<br /> + Straight as any furrer:<br /> +That Bull o’ mine”—“Excuse me, Sir,<br /> + Went up upon <span +class="smcap">Demurrer</span>.”</p> +<p class="poetry">“Then beant there nothing left for I,<br +/> + In all this ere undoin?<br /> +Nay, Nance, our fireside be gone,<br /> + It’s emptiness and ruin.</p> +<p class="poetry">“I wish we’d fought un out +ourselves<br /> + Wi’ fists instead o’ law;<br /> +Since Samson fit, there never was<br /> + Good fightin wi the jaw.”</p> +<p class="poetry">So <i>now</i> Tom’s not a thriving +man,<br /> + He owns not cow or pig;<br /> +And evermore he’ll be in debt<br /> + To Honest Lawyer Prigg.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">bradbury</span>, <span class="smcap">agnew</span>, +<span class="smcap">& co.</span>, <span +class="smcap">printers</span>, <span +class="smcap">whitefriars</span>.</p> +<h2>Footnotes</h2> +<p><a name="footnote0a"></a><a href="#citation0a" +class="footnote">[0a]</a> Since the First Edition, “a +bulky volume” of new rules has appeared. No +independent existence at present, and therefore anatomy +uncertain. I have peeped at it, and think if it reaches +maturity it will help the rich litigant very much; and, if it +abolishes trial by jury, as it threatens, we shall be, in time to +come, a Judge-ridden people, which God forbid. I am not +afraid of a Judge now, but I should be then. The choice in +the future <i>might</i> be between servility and a prison; and I +sincerely believe that if trial by jury should be abolished, this +country would not be safe to live in. Much <i>mending</i>, +therefore, and consequently the more holes. I wonder what +the Liberalism of the future will say when it learns that the +Liberalism of Mr. Gladstone’s Government struck the first +blow at <i>Trial by Jury</i>? Truly “the axe to laid +to the root of the tree,” and, reversing the Divine order, +“every tree that <i>bringeth forth good fruit is</i>” +in danger of being “hewn down.”</p> +<p style="text-align: right">R. H.</p> +<p><a name="footnote22"></a><a href="#citation22" +class="footnote">[22]</a> This inscription, with the +exception of the names, is a literal copy.</p> +<p><a name="footnote52"></a><a href="#citation52" +class="footnote">[52]</a> Modern pleaders would say the +Court would take judicial notice of the existence of Egypt: I am +aware of this, but at the time I write of the Courts were too +young to take notice.</p> +<p><a name="footnote138"></a><a href="#citation138" +class="footnote">[138]</a> The correctness of Mr. +O’Rapley’s views may be vouched for by a newspaper +report in the <i>Evening Standard</i> of April 17th, 1883, which +was as follows:—“Mr. Justice Day in charging the +Grand Jury at the Manchester Spring Assizes yesterday, expressed +his disagreement with the opinion of other Judges in favour of +the Commission being so altered that the Judge would have to +‘deliver all the prisoners detained in gaol,’ and +regarded it as a waste of the Judge’s time that he should +have to try a case in which a woman was indicted for stealing a +shawl worth three-and-ninepence, or a prisoner charged with +stealing two mutton pies and two ounces of bacon.”</p> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HUMOUROUS STORY OF FARMER +BUMPKIN'S LAWSUIT***</p> +<pre> + + +***** This file should be named 30551-h.htm or 30551-h.zip****** + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/0/5/5/30551 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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