Chapter V (2)

I seized my virgin pencil blue,
Marked and perused you through and through
The story brief, instructions short,
Defendant in a county court,
It needed not an ounce of sense
To see that you had no defence.
But, erudite in English law,
I fashioned bricks without the straw.

Around my chamber-floor I sped,
Harangued the book-case on each head;
Demosthenes and Cicero
On hearing me had cried a go.
Then I must own that I was nettled--
Out of court the case was settled.
All my points were left unmade,
And the fee is left unpaid.

* * * * *

When may a lawyer’s clerk be considered most captivating? When he’s engrossing.

* * * * *

_Policeman (suddenly, to street performer)._ “Now, then! just you move on, will yer?”]

* * * * *

WHY SOME OF US GO ON CIRCUIT

(_By one of the Briefless_)

_Member of the Upper Bar (perusing Assize List)._ Shall I go round this time? Hum. Let me see. “Muddeford”--can get a day’s hunting there, I think. “Wandsbury”--go over to the Chilstons for Sunday, and have a jolly afternoon with Lily. “Swanston”--wouldn’t do any harm to go and look up Uncle George. “Leamouth”--excellent quarters at hotel there; fair dinner, too. “Deddingham”--good murder case; shouldn’t like to miss it. Yes, I think I’ll go round as far as that, and get back to town in time for the boat-race.”

* * * * *

REFORM OF THE LAW.--Chancellors, ex-Chancellors, and King’s Counsel, are members of a society for the reform of the law. They meet and denounce the wickedness of costs, and then hie away to practice. This reminds us of a passage in Borrow’s _Gipsies of Spain_:--“And now, my dears,” says the head of the family to the younger branches--“now you have said your prayers, go out and steal.”

* * * * *

“Now then, Latitat, tuck in your six-and-eightpenny!”]

* * * * *

LAW AND POLICE

(_A report of the future_)

The report that the Flashaway divorce suit is postponed is unfounded. It will commence on Tuesday as advertised. There are still a few gallery seats to be obtained at five guineas each.

At Bow Street yesterday, John Jones, a costermonger, was summoned for having obstructed the crowd waiting outside the pit of the Divorce Court. Lady Hightone having given evidence in support of the charge, the defendant explained that he was merely trying to get his barrow through the crowd on his way from Covent Garden.

The magistrate said that the pleasure-seeking public must be protected, and fined him five pounds and costs.

At the same court, the Earl of Blankley was charged with having driven a motor car to the public danger, and further with having run down a boy with fatal result.

His lordship explained that he was co-respondent in a divorce suit, and was on his way to the Law Courts when the accident occurred. The speed may have been a little excessive.

The magistrate said, that bearing in mind the public character of the business on which the defendant was engaged, he would discharge him on payment of half-a-crown and the funeral expenses.

The fine was at once paid.

* * * * *

Another culprit.]

* * * * *

AT THE NEW LAW COURTS.--The cry of the solicitor who has to go to the top story to transact business is, “Please give us a lift.” The solicitor’s lift, if introduced, will be called a conveyancer.

* * * * *

A VERY BAD JUDGE.--The man who tries his friends.

* * * * *

MOTTO FOR A MAN REPRIEVED FROM THE GALLOWS.--No noose is good news.

* * * * *

STRANGE SORT OF BUSINESS.--Lawyers sometimes take a different view of things from other persons; so perhaps they may understand how a stationer can think it is to his advantage to give this public notice in his window,--“Deeds abstracted.”

* * * * *

* * * * *

THE BARRISTERS OF ENGLAND!

The barristers of England, how hungrily they stand
About the Hall of Westminster, with wig, and gown, and band;
With brief bag full of dummies and fee book full of _oughts_,
Result of the establishment of the new county courts.

The barristers of England, how listlessly they sit,
Expending on each other a small amount of wit:
Without the opportunity of doing something worse,
By talking nonsense at the cost of some poor client’s purse.

The barristers of England, how when they get a cause,
They (some of them) will disregard all gentlemanly laws;
And bullying the witnesses upon the adverse side.
Will do their very utmost the honest truth to hide.

The barristers of England, how with _sang froid_ sublime,
They undertake to advocate two causes at one time;
And when they find it is a thing impossible to do,
They throw one client overboard, but take the fees of two.

The barristers of England, how rarely they refuse,
The party they appear against with coarseness to abuse;
Feeling a noble consciousness no punishment can reach
The vulgar ribaldry they call the “privilege of speech.”

The barristers of England, how often they degrade
An honourable calling to a pettifogging trade,
And show how very slight the lines of separation are,
Between the cabman’s licence, and “the licence of the bar.”

The barristers of England, how, if they owe a grudge,
They try with insolence to goad a poor assistant-judge;
And after having bullied him, their bold imposture clench,
By talking of their high respect for the judicial bench.

The barristers of England, how sad it is to feel
That rant will pass for energy, and bluster goes for zeal;
But ’tis a consolation that ’mid their ranks there are
Sufficient gentlemen to save the credit of the bar.

* * * * *

_Judge (sweetly)._ “Never mind. Do as much of it as you can!”]

* * * * *

LEGAL EXAMINATION QUESTION.

_Q._ What is a _feme sole_?

_A._ A lady’s boot that has lost its _fellow_.

* * * * *

FROM SCOTLAND YARD.--Our police force, it has been observed, is deficient in height. The reason is plain. Tall policemen are discouraged, because they might look over things.

* * * * *

A TIGHT FIT.--A state of coma, which bobbies are too apt to confound with apoplexy.

* * * * *

A SPECIAL PLEA.--A young thief who was charged the other day with picking pockets, demurred to the indictment, “for, that, whereas he had never picked pockets, but had always taken them just as they came.”

* * * * *

_Chorus of Juniors._ “May it please your ludship, we’re only drawing--pleadings.”

[“Mr. Justice Denman said that he saw a thing going on in court that he could not sanction. He saw gentlemen of the bar making pictures of the witness. Let it be understood that he would turn out any gentleman of the bar who did so in future.”--_Daily Paper._]]

* * * * *

MONODY ON THE DEATH OF AN ONLY CLIENT

Oh! take away my wig and gown,
Their sight is mock’ry now to me:
I pace my chambers up and down,
Reiterating “Where is _he_?”

Alas! wild echo, with a moan,
Murmurs above my fever’d head:
In the wide world I am alone;
Ha! ha! my only client’s--dead.

In vain the robing room I seek;
The very waiters scarcely bow;
Their looks contemptuously speak,
“He’s lost his only client now.”

E’en the mild usher, who of yore,
Would hasten when his name I said,
To hand in motions, comes no more,
_He_ knows my only client’s dead.

Ne’er shall I, rising up in court,
Open the pleadings of a suit:
Ne’er shall the judges cut me short,
While moving them for a compute.

No more with a consenting brief
Shall I politely bow my head;
Where shall I run to hide my grief?
Alas! my only client’s dead.

Imagination’s magic power
Brings back, as clear as clear can be,
The spot, the day, the very hour,
When first I sign’d my maiden plea.

In the Exchequer’s hindmost row,
I sat, and some one touch’d my head,
He tendered ten-and-six, but oh!
That only client now is dead.

In vain, I try to sing--I’m hoarse:
In vain I try to play the flute,
A phantom seems to flit across,--
It is the ghost of a compute.

I try to read--but all in vain;
My chambers listlessly I tread;
Be still, my heart; throb less, my brain;
Ho! ho! my only client’s dead.

I think I hear a double knock;
I did--alas! it is a dun.
Tailor--avaunt! my sense you shock;
He’s dead! you know I had but one!

What’s this they thrust into my hand?
A bill returned!--ten pounds for bread!
My butcher got a large demand;
I’m mad! my only client’s dead.

* * * * *

* * * * *

REFORM YOUR LAWYERS’ BILLS.--There is one consolidation of the statutes that would be very useful--to make them so solid that no lawyer could drive a coach-and-six through them.

* * * * *

_Second L._ “I’m divorce.”

_First L._ “Then you stand lunch!”]

* * * * *

THE WAY THEY HAVE AT THE BAR

(_Fragment from a romance not entirely imaginary_)

SCENE.--_A corridor in the Royal Courts. Eminent counsel in conversation with estimable solicitor and respected client._

_Client._ I am rather sorry, sir, that you could not conduct my case in person.

_Coun._ So am I. I took a deal of trouble in preparing the argument I proposed to advance, and it was a great disappointment to me that I was unable to deliver it in person.

_Solic._ But your junior, sir, represented you to perfection.

_Coun._ I am rejoiced to hear it. I give every credit to my young and learned friend, and am pleased to think that when we met in consultation I was able to choose the right line of policy.

_Solic._ Besides, if you were not with us, your retainer prevented you from being against us. And that was a distinct advantage.

_Coun._ You are most flattering, and too kind.

_Solic._ Not at all; and I am sure my client agrees with me?

_Client._ Well, of course I would rather have had the assistance of silk, although your junior no doubt did his best.

_Coun._ I am sure he did. And now, gentlemen, is there anything further I can do for you?

_Solic._ Thank you very much--I think not. You got up your case, consulted with your junior and if you were prevented from putting in an appearance in the Court itself, were there in spirit. Besides, I repeat it was a good thing for us that you did not join the Bar of the other side. Thank you very much indeed, sir. Good day.

_Coun._ Good day. (_He prepares to walk off, when, noticing a movement of the solicitor, he stops._) You are sure I can do nothing more for you?

_Solic._ Oh, it’s scarcely worth mentioning. But perhaps you would not mind returning your fee.

_Coun._ With the greatest pleasure! (_Hands over a bag of gold and exit._)

_Client._ Well, really, that seems to me very generous! Isn’t it rather unusual?

_Solic._ Unusual! Oh dear no! Why, it’s the practice of the whole profession!

_Curtain._

* * * * *

_Young Briefless._ “My dear madam, I’m a perfect stranger myself--don’t think I’ve been in a court for the last twenty years!”]

* * * * *

_Little Barrister._ “My brief!”]

* * * * *

LAW OF DIVORCE

SIR,--A “Barrister” who lately wrote to the _Times_, in order to draw public attention to the existing anomalies in the Law of Divorce, omitted all mention of one of its most glaring absurdities. Allow me to state a case in point. Mr. A. runs away with Mrs. B., very good, I mean, of course very bad; well, Mrs. A. sues for a divorce from Mr. A., and obtains an order for alimony _pendente lite_. Mr. A. objects to pay this amount for the support of his wife, whereupon the Judge “orders an attachment to issue.” Now, sir, if it be, as it certainly is, in the power of the Judge Ordinary to order Mr. A.’s attachment to _Issue_, why should he not be able judicially to order Mr. A.’s attachment to _Wife_? I remain, sir, yours thoughtfully.

A REVISING BARRISTER.

* * * * *

_Judge (testily, to persistent junior)._ “Sir, if you don’t know how to behave as a gentleman in court, I can’t teach you!”

_Junior (pointedly)._ “Quite so, my lud, quite so!”

[_Proceeds._]

* * * * *

IMPORTANT TO BARRISTERS

Among the cheap furniture projects, is a tempting offer to supply everything necessary for a barrister’s chambers for five pounds. We have made a rough calculation in our minds of the _meubles_; and the following, we should say, is about the estimate that the advertisers form of

EVERYTHING NECESSARY FOR A BARRISTER’S CHAMBERS.

£ s. d.
A mahogany chair, stuffed with hay, for the learned barrister 0 10 0
A japan chair, for the learned barrister’s clerk 0 3 0
A table to hold a plate and a mug, for the learned barrister 0 8 0
A foot-and-a-half wide by five-feet-six long French bedstead 0 13 0
A hay mattress for ditto 0 5 0
A superior feather-bed, warranted best damaged quills 1 5 0
Two blankets in one 0 7 0
A superior brown quilt 0 3 0
Six yards of calico, to fold into a pair of sheets 0 5 0
A yard of matting for the learned barrister’s sitting-room 0 4 0
A pint tea-kettle 0 0 6
A wig-box, the wig to be hired when wanted 0 4 0
Two yards of black stuff, to hang up to look like a gown 0 3 0
A pair of endorsed dummies, as briefs 0 1 6
A blue bag and white stock 0 2 0
A fender and one fire-iron 0 4 0
A coal-scoop 0 1 0
A set of backs of old books, labelled “Reports” 0 1 0
Sundries 0 0 6
-------
£5 0 0

* * * * *

MOTTO FOR THE LONG FIRM.--“Order is heaven’s first law.”

* * * * *

LESSONS IN JUSTICE

(IN TWO TONGUES)

_The French Method, reported in a Paris Paper. Close of the Thirteenth Day._

The prisoner was admitted. He was self-possessed, grand, mysterious. He glanced round him with a air of disdain, and jeeringly bowed to the president, who regarded him with hatred. Then the president put questions to him.

_The President._ You are a thief, a scoundrel, an assassin! You know you committed the crime of which you are accused. You are a villain!

_The Prisoner._ And you--polite.

[_General assent._

_The President (with indignation)._ I will not have you say so! I tell you that I know you entered the room with the pistol. I know that you fired at the deceased. You know you did! Tell me, did you not kill the deceased?

_The Prisoner._ Why should I tell you? Is not your head of wood, M’sieur le Président.

[_General laughter._

_The President (with anger)._ You shall pay dearly for this! You have insulted me--you have insulted the son of my mother--and insulting her son, you have also insulted my mother!

[_A deep murmur._

_The Prisoner (shuddering)._ Oh, no! I deny it! I am not so base!

_The President._ But I tell you you are! I tell you that there is no more wicked man in the world than yourself! You are a poltroon!

[_Murmurs._

_The Prisoner._ And you call the father of my innocent child a poltroon? It is an outrage!

[_General assent._

_The President._ Your appeal to your innocent babe will avail you nothing. Your innocent babe would be better without such a father! (_General Shuddering._) Yes, I mean what I say--you are a craven!

_The Prisoner._ This is too much! I am no craven! I love my country as a mother loves her son.

[_General assent._

_M. le Président._ You insult France when you call yourself her son! You insult the Republic.

[_Loud murmurs._

_The Prisoner._ It is not for you to judge! I know you, M’sieur le Président. Forty years ago you were in the service of the King!

_M. le Président (with a cry)._ You shall be gagged if you utter such calumnies! You are a knave, a vagabond, a cut-throat! And now it is for the jury to decide. Have you anything to say in your defence?

_The Prisoner (to the Jury)._ I have nothing to say, save that I brand this man as a traitor! As for me I ask for liberty in the name of my infant--in the name of my child! I confess I am no saint, and if I _have_ murdered, why in the name of my innocent babe I beg of you to stretch out your hands to me and save me from the scaffold. I wish to return to the world to watch by the side of a cradle!

The jury, who were deeply affected, then retired, and, after two hours’ absence, returned a verdict of Guilty.

_The English Method, reported in a London Paper. End of the First Day._

The prisoner, who was ably represented by counsel, appeared to be deeply sensible of his position. He kept his eyes on the jury during the brief summing up.

His Lordship said that he trusted the jury would give the benefit of any doubt they might feel in the prisoner’s favour. In so serious a case they must not convict unless they were convinced of his guilt. The facts had been carefully laid before them, and he would not say a word to bias them one way or the other. He entreated them to remember that the life of a fellow creature was at stake, and to let that recollection make them desirous to record only what was proper and just. The jury then retired, and, after five minutes’ absence, returned a verdict of Guilty.

* * * * *

_Nervous Old Lady._ “O, policeman! policeman! there’s a strange dog that will stick to me, and won’t leave me, and I can’t get rid of him! Couldn’t you take him in charge or something?”

_Policeman (who doesn’t like the job)._ “Very sorry, ma’am,--but we can’t interfere with _any_ dog so long as he’s a _follerin’_ o’ somebody!”]

* * * * *

_Ragged Party._ “Ah! I should never a’ been redooced like this ’ere if it hadn’t been for the lawyers!”

_Raggeder Ditto._ “And look at me! All through my title-deeds bein’ made into banjos an’ such like! Why, I spent a small fortun’ advertisin’ for one tambourine as was supposed to a’ been made out o’ my grandmother’s marriage-settlement!!!”]

* * * * *

* * * * *

_Country Magistrate._ “Prisoner, you’re discharged this time with a caution; but if we see you here again, you’ll get twice as much!!”]

* * * * *

NEW LEGAL DEFINITION.--_A Copyholder._--A compositor.

* * * * *

_Prisoner._ “So please yer worshop, as there was more nor ten of us engaged in the transagtion, why I pleads limited liability.”]

* * * * *

* * * * *

LEGAL DISTINCTION.--_Q._ What is the difference between attorney and counsel?

_A._ One is a lawyer, and the other a jawyer.

* * * * *

“TURNING HIS FLANK”

_Mr. Brisket (the butcher)._ “Good morning, Mr. Chattles! You’re a lawyer, and I want your advice. What can I do with a man whose dog steals some meat from my shop?”

_Mr. Chattles (the lawyer)._ “Demand the value, or summon the owner.”

_Mr. Brisket (triumphantly)._ “Then I want six-and-sixpence from you, sir, or else I’ll summons yer! Your dog there ran away with a piece of mutton o’ that valley from these premises last night!”

_Mr. Chattles._ “Hum--ah--h’m! Then if you’ll hand me over twopence, we shall just be square, Mr. Brisket--as my fee for consultation is six-and-eightpence!!”

* * * * *

“SAUCE FOR THE COUNSEL GOOSE IS SAUCE FOR SOLOR GANDER”

(_Respectfully dedicated to the Incorporated Law Society and the Bar Committee_)

SCENE--_Interior of the Duke of Ditchwater’s Study._ TIME--_The near Future. PRESENT--His Grace and Mr. Kosts, the Family Solicitor._

_The Duke (finishing a long business talk)._ And I suppose we had better be represented by Mr. Silvertongue, the Queen’s Counsel?

_Mr. Kosts (hesitating)._ Certainly, your Grace, if it is your express wish.

_The Duke (surprised)._ Why, Mr. Kosts, you surely know of no better representative?

_Mr. Kosts (hurriedly)._ Oh no, your Grace. Mr. Silvertongue is a most eloquent advocate, and has the law at his fingers’ ends; but----

_The Duke._ Well? Surely we may entrust ourselves in his hands with perfect confidence? Do you not think so?

_Mr. Kosts._ Oh, certainly, your Grace, certainly. (_Hesitating._) But matters have changed a little lately. There has been an alteration in the law.

_The Duke._ Indeed!

_Mr. Kosts._ Yes, your Grace. The fact is, that the two branches of the legal profession have been amalgamated.

_The Duke._ I don’t quite understand.

_Mr. Kosts._ Why, your Grace, there is now no real distinction between solicitors and barristers, except in name. So I thought, your Grace, that as I could do the work as well, that perhaps I might replace Mr. Silvertongue, and---- You see, it is simply a matter of business.

_The Duke (interrupting)._ Certainly, certainly, Mr. Kosts. No doubt you could represent me admirably. But you see I am afraid Mr. Silvertongue might be a little offended. You know he is a personal friend of mine, and----

_Mr. Kosts (promptly, with a bow)._ I trust your Grace will not give the matter another thought--Mr. Silvertongue shall be instructed. (_Preparing to go._) Of course, your Grace’s young relative, the Honourable Charles Needy, will act as junior?

_The Duke._ Certainly, Mr. Kosts. Give Charley as much of my work as possible. My wife’s cousin, I am afraid, is not overburdened with briefs.

_Mr. Kosts._ I am afraid not, your Grace. And yet Mr. Needy is a sharp and clever young gentleman. Good day, your Grace!

_The Duke (after a moment’s thought, suddenly)._ One moment, Mr. Kosts. Did I understand you to say that the two branches of the legal profession were amalgamated?

_Mr. Kosts._ To all intents and purposes, your Grace. You see we can now do all the work of the Bar.

_The Duke._ And I suppose barristers can act as solicitors--I mean, undertake the same kind of business?

_Mr. Kosts (laughing)._ There is nothing to prevent them, your Grace, save their incapacity.

_The Duke (with dignity)._ No relative of the Duchess, Mr. Kosts, can be incapable!

_Mr. Kosts (puzzled)._ I beg your Grace’s pardon. I do not quite understand----

_The Duke._ Then I will explain. You tell me that barristers can now act as solicitors. Well, you know the old adage, that “blood is thicker than water.” It is, Mr. Kosts; it is. You will pardon me, I am sure, if I suggest that the connection of your firm with my family has not been unlucrative.

_Mr. Kosts._ On the contrary, your Grace! I may fairly say that the connection is worth many hundreds a-year to us. We cannot be sufficiently grateful.

_The Duke._ Pray desist, Mr. Kosts. The matter is one of pure business. It really is not at all a question of gratitude. Well, as I understand you to say that Mr. Needy is quite qualified to undertake solicitor’s work----

_Mr. Kosts (blankly)._ Theoretically, your Grace; theoretically.

_The Duke (haughtily)._ Any relative of the Duchess can reduce theory to practice.

_Mr. Kosts (bowing)._ No doubt, your Grace; no doubt.

_The Duke._ Well, as I now find that Charley can do the work I have hitherto given to you, Mr. Kosts, I feel that some alteration must be made. Charley is poor, and my relative. So I am sure you will not be offended when for the future I give him the whole of the legal work I used to give to you. You see, after all (as you explained to me just now) it is purely a matter of business!

[_Scene closes in upon Mr. Kosts’ discomfiture._

* * * * *

* * * * *

_Witness._ “My lord, he said he stole the pig----”

_Judge._ “Impossible! He couldn’t have used the third person.”

_Witness._ “My lord, there was no third person!”

_Judge._ “Nonsense! I suppose you mean that he said, ‘I stole the pig’!”

_Witness (shocked)._ “Oh, my lord! he never mentioned your lordship’s name!”

[_Dismissed ignominiously._]

* * * * *

* * * * *

NEW LEGAL WORK. (_By the author of “In Silk Attire.”_)--“The briefless junior; or, plenty of stuff to spare.”

* * * * *

MUSICAL LAW.--“Bar’s rest.” Long vacation.

* * * * *

A LABORIOUS OCCUPATION.--Shop-lifting.

* * * * *

A Lawsuit now pending in Tennessee between two families has run for such a length of time, that it takes six men of the strongest memories in the State to remember when it was begun.

* * * * *

MY FIRST CLIENT

(_By A. Briefless, Junior_)

“Here is something for you, sir,” said a sharp-looking youth, suddenly thrusting into my hand a document.

I quietly put the paper into my pocket without comment (I had no wish to bandy words with the process-server), and reflected that some half-forgotten tailor, or too-long-neglected hatter, was a person of no real delicacy of feeling.

“And will you see to the matter at once?” continued the sharp-looking youth, “as they can’t wait.”

“Certainly,” I replied, with a dignity which I intended should suggest that I had a perfectly fabulous account at Coutts’s. My account at the celebrated banking firm referred to _is_ perfectly fabulous.

“All right, sir. I suppose we shall see you in the morning.”

The youth disappeared, and I journeyed home. As I walked along the Thames Embankment I pondered over the alterations made in our law by the Judicature Acts.

“When I was a younger man,” I murmured to myself, “a copy of a writ, when considered entirely without prejudice, was rather a handsome instrument than otherwise. The direct message from the Sovereign, for instance, used to be very far from ungratifying, although perhaps it would have been better had the greeting been joined to a matter a little less embarrassing, say, than an unsatisfied claim for the value of certain shirts. But nowadays the neat crisp document of the olden time seems to be abandoned for a far more bulky paper--for the packet I have in my pocket!”

However, I threw off my cares, and thought no more of the affair until the next morning, when, putting on my overcoat, I discovered, to my intense astonishment, to my overwhelming joy, that what I had believed to be a writ was actually a brief. I had to sit down on the hall-chair for five minutes to compose myself. My emotion was perfectly painful--it was my first, my maiden brief! The news spread like wildfire through the household, and the distant strains of “Rule, Britannia!” were heard coming from the nursery.

There was but one thing to be done, and I did it. I hurriedly collected all the law-books I possess (Shearwood’s “Abridgment of Real Property,” an odd volume of Stephen’s “Commentaries,” and an early edition of “The Comic Blackstone”), jumped into a hansom, and rattled down to Pump-Handle Court. Arrived there, I handed my brief to my clerk (the sharp-looking youth who had given me the paper turned out to be my clerk), and instructed him to put it in a prominent position in his own room, so that my client, when he arrived, might see it, and conclude that I had so many matters just then in hand that I had not had as yet time to look into his case, which was waiting its turn for consideration with numerous others. I was ashamed to give these instructions, but reflected that it was important, having regard to my professional prospects, that my expected visitor should be kept as long as possible in ignorance of the fact that he was my solitary employer.

“All right, sir,” said my clerk, with a facial gesture which I regret to say savoured of a wink. “He will be here by eleven.”

I now entered my own room. It was rather in disorder. I share my chambers with an intimate friend, and as I am very often away, he sometimes uses my _sanctum_ (entirely with my consent) as a receptacle for empty packing-cases, old cigar-boxes, superfluous window-curtains, and worn-out boots. With the assistance of my clerk, who followed me in, I soon set things to rights, putting on the month-indicator from October to March, filling the inkstand with copying fluid, and removing somebody’s pot-hat from the brows of my bust of the late Lord Chancellor Brougham.

“There, sir, I think that will do now,” said my clerk, with a look of satisfaction, and he left me seated at my desk turning over some dusty brief paper which I had found knocking about in one of the drawers.

My room is a semi-subterranean apartment in a circular tower. I have two small casements looking out upon some gardens, but as I occupy the basement, I can only see the ankles of the passers-by, and am myself free from observation save when some more than usually unruly urchin brings his head level with mine, and makes faces at me through the window.

I repeat I was turning over the dusty brief-paper, and toying with Mr. Shearwood’s very excellent “Abridgment,” when the door was thrown open and my clerk announced, “Someone to see you, sir.”

“You will pardon me,” I said, without looking up, consulting in the meantime the hand-book before me with knitted brows, “but I am engaged for a few moments. I will attend to you directly.”

“Oh, certainly, sir,” replied the new-comer, in the most deferential tone possible; and he took a seat.

I jotted down the incidents of Borough English, frowned as if engaged in deep thought, and then smilingly turned to my visitor, and asked him how I could be of service to him.

“I want you to look into this case, sir,” he began, with a timidity that was as unexpected as it was gratifying--his nervousness gave me confidence.

“By all means,” I responded heartily, dipping a pen into the ink, and putting a fresh sheet of brief-paper over the page I had already used for the incidents of Borough English and a freehand sketch of a British Grenadier, “I shall be glad to hear all about it.”

“I must apologise for intruding upon you, knowing how busy you are, but I thought you would be interested in what I have to place before you.”

“Pray do not apologise,” I hastened to say; and then added, with a little laugh, “I certainly have taken you out of your turn, but then this is our first transaction. I hope it will not be the last.”

“I hope so, too,” replied my client, fervently. “If you will allow me, I will often place things like this before you. I should have come to you earlier only so many gentlemen object to seeing me.”

“Dear me!” I replied, a little surprised. “I suppose some men don’t care to jeopardise their professional reputation by failure. And now, with your permission, I will look into your case.”

“It is here, sir,” he answered, opening a rather large portfolio. “You will notice that these are very beautiful engravings.”

“Certainly,” I returned, making a note on the paper before me; “as you say, most beautiful. No doubt of very considerable value.”

“I am glad you like them, sir. They are forced to be got rid of at an enormous sacrifice.”

“Indeed!” I ejaculated, continuing my notes.

“Yes, sir. They are being sold at something less than cost-price.”

“Really!” And again I jotted down the particulars. Then I said, to show that I comprehended the affair at a glance, “I suppose there has been a dispute about the copyright?”

“No, sir, that’s all right.”

“Ah, to be sure--then there has been a breach of contract?” But finding that this also was not the case, I said, with hearty _bonhomie_, “Well, my dear sir, as I have made two bad guesses, perhaps you had better tell me what I can do for you.”

My client coughed deferentially, and then produced a paper.

“I beg your pardon, sir, but would you mind signing this?”

I read the document--it ran as follows:--

“To Messrs. Scamp and Vamp.--_I hereby agree to purchase one copy of your ‘Pillars of the Law from the Earliest Ages,’ profusely illustrated, in one hundred and fifty-seven monthly parts, at seven shillings and sixpence a part. I further agree to pay for this work annually, at the rate of twelve parts in advance._”

There was a solemn and awful pause. Then I drew myself up to my full height, and in a voice of thunder _ordered him out_! I know not _how_ he disappeared--in a moment he had vanished, portfolio and all!

Rather fatigued after my late exertions, I called to my clerk, and with weary haughtiness desired him to bring me my brief, as I wished to “glance through the papers.”

“Your brief, sir?” he returned. “Oh, I should have told you, sir, that, while you were talking to the man with the engravings, they called to see you. They said they were in a hurry, and as you were engaged, they would take it to some one else.”

“Take it to some one else!” My maiden brief!

At this point I must pause--for the moment, I can write no more!

A. BRIEFLESS, JUNIOR.

* * * * *

[“Two burglars, charged with burglary, frankly admitted that the reason they wore gloves was because they didn’t want to leave their finger impressions for identification purposes.”--_Daily Paper._]

_First Cultured Safe-Breaker._ “Harris.”

_Second C. S.-B._ “Sir.”

_First C. S.-B._ “Have you got your gloves on?”

_Second C. S.-B._ “Yes, sir.”

_First C. S.-B._ “Then take the kiver off!”]

* * * * *

_Legal Adviser (speaking technically)._ “In short, you want to meet your creditors.”

_Innocent Client._ “Hang it, no! Why, they’re the very people I’m most anxious to avoid!”]

* * * * *

“Now, gentlemen of the jury, I throw myself upon your impartial judgment as husbands and fathers, and I confidently ask, does the prisoner look like a man who would knock down and trample upon the wife of his bosom? Gentleman, I have done!”]

* * * * *

No more exorbitant fees! No more law! No more trials!]

* * * * *

* * * * *

* * * * *

Cold but in-vig-orating.]

* * * * *

CROSSED-EXAMINATION

OLD STYLE.--_Nervous Witness about to leave the box, when his progress is arrested by Counsel on the other side._

_Counsel (sharply)._ Now, sir, do know the value of an oath?

_Witness (taken aback)._ Why, yes--of course.

_Coun. (pointing at him)._ Come, no prevarication! Do you understand the value, or do you not?

_Wit. (confused)._ If you will allow me to explain----

_Coun._ Come, sir, you surely can answer yes or no--now which is it?

_Wit._ But you will not let me explain----

_Coun._ Don’t be impertinent, sir! Explanation is unneeded. Mind, you have been sworn, so if you _don’t_ know the value of an oath, it will be the worse for you.

_Wit._ But you won’t let me speak.

_Coun._ Won’t let you speak! Why, I can’t get a word out of you. Now, sir, in plain English--are you a liar or not?

_Wit. (appealing to Judge)._ Surely, my lord, he has no right to speak to me like this?

_Judge._ Be good enough to answer the counsel’s questions. I have nothing to do with it.

_Coun._ Now sir--once more; are you a liar, or are you not?

_Wit._ I don’t think that’s the way you would speak to me----

_Coun._ Don’t bully me, sir! You are here to tell us the truth; or as much of it as you can.

_Wit._ But surely you ought to----

_Coun._ Don’t tell me what I ought to do, sir. Again, are you a liar, or are you not?

_Wit._ Please tell me how I am to reply to such a question?

_Coun._ You are not there to ask me questions, sir, but to answer _my_ questions to _you_.

_Wit._ Well, I decline to reply.

_Judge (to Witness)._ Now you had better be careful. If you do not answer the questions put to you, it will be within my right to send you to gaol for contempt of court.

_Coun._ Now you hear what his lordship says, and now, once more, are you a liar or are you not?

_Wit. (confused)._ I don’t know.

_Coun. (to Jury)._ He doesn’t know! I need ask nothing further!

[_Sits down._

_Foreman (to Judge)._ May we not ask, my lord, how you consider this case is being conducted.

_Judge._ With pleasure, gentlemen! I will repeat what I remarked to the Master quite recently. I think the only word that will describe the matter is “noble.” Distinctly noble!

[_Scene closes in upon despair of Witness._

NEW STYLE.--_Arrogant Witness about to leave the box, when his progress is arrested by Counsel on the other side._

_Coun._ I presume, sir, that----

_Wit. (sharply)._ You have no right to presume. Ask me what you want, and have done with it.

_Coun. (amiably)._ I think we shall get on better--more quickly--if you kindly attend to my questions.

_Wit._ Think so? Well, it’s a matter of opinion. But, as I have an engagement in another place, be good enough to ask what you are instructed to ask and settle the matter off-hand.

_Coun._ If you will allow me to speak----

_Wit._ Speak!--I like that! Why, I can’t get a rational word out of you!

_Coun. (appealing to Judge)._ Surely, my lord, he has no right to speak to me like this?

_Judge._ Be good enough to attend to the witness. I have nothing to do with it.

_Wit. (impatiently)._ Now, sir, am I to wait all day?

_Coun. (mildly)._ I really venture to suggest that is not quite the tone to adopt.

_Wit._ Don’t bully me, sir! I am here to answer any questions you like to put, always supposing that you have any worth answering.

_Coun._ But come--surely you ought to----

_Wit._ I am not here to learn my duty from you, sir. You don’t know your subject, sir. How long have you been called?

_Coun._ I decline to reply.

_Judge (to Counsel)._ Now you had really better be careful. I wish to treat the Bar with every respect, but if you waste any more time I shall feel strongly inclined to bring your conduct before your Benchers.

_Wit._ You hear what his lordship says. What are you going to do next?

_Coun. (confused)._ I don’t know.

_Wit. (to Jury)._ He doesn’t know! I needn’t stay here any longer.

[_“Stands” down._

_Judge (to Jury)._ May I ask you, gentlemen, how you consider this case is being conducted?

_Foreman of the Jury._ With pleasure, my lord. We were all using the same word which exactly describes the situation. We consider the deportment of the witness “noble.” Distinctly noble.

[_Scene closes in upon despair of Counsel._

* * * * *

“In these days of conflicts between counsel, I propose to make a few additions to my usual forensic costume.”--_Extract from a Letter of Mr. Welnown Kaysee, K.C., to a young friend._]

* * * * *

_Boy._ “To be a policeman, mum!”]

* * * * *

* * * * *

Suitable for ladies called to the bar (as they soon will be, of course).]

* * * * *

BARCAROLES FOR BRIEFLESS BARRISTERS

AIR--_“The Sea! the Sea!”_

The Fee! the fee! the welcome fee!
The new! the fresh! the scarce to me!
Without a brief, without a pound,
I travel the circuit round and round.
I draw with the pens at each assize,
If ink before me handy lies.
I’ve got a fee! I’ve got a fee!
I’ve got what I so seldom see;
With the judge above, and the usher below,
I wait upon the last back row.
Should a silk gown come with argument deep,
What matter! I can go to sleep.

I love (oh, _how_ I love) to bide
At some fierce, foaming, senior’s side.
When every mad word stuns the court,
And the judges wish he’d cut it short,
And tell him the case of So-and-So,
His argument doth to atoms blow.

I never hear Chancery’s dull, tame jaw,
But I love the fun of the Common Law,
And fly to the Exchequer, Bench and Pleas,
As a mouse flies back to a Cheshire cheese!
For the cheese it always seem’d to me,
Especially if I got a fee!

My whiskers are white, my head is bald,
Since the dreary hour when I was call’d.
The Steward he whistled as out he told
The fees at my call from a packet of gold.
And never was heard of a step so wild
As took to the bar the briefless child.
I’ve liv’d since then, in term and out,
Some thirty years, or thereabout;
Without a brief, but power to range
From court to court by way of change.
And death, whenever he comes to me,
Will find me most likely without a fee.

* * * * *

_Second Ditto._ “Pre’y well. My moustache went off at once, but nothing would induce the pistol to go off in the duel scene!”--(_Dropping the subject._)--“How’s your mother?”]

* * * * *

SONG FOR THE BURGLAR TO HIS “PAL” WHO “PEACHED.”--“Never again with _you_, Robbin’.”

* * * * *

SUITORS’ SUFFERINGS.--As law is to rheumatism, so is equity to gout. The fusion of law and equity may be said to form the counterpart of rheumatic gout.

* * * * *

_Second Judge._ “Going wonderfully. No standing room. “What are _you_ doing?”

_First Judge._ “A building contract. Wretched business: not a soul in the place!”]

* * * * *

A SPRING CIRCUIT.--Jumping through the hoops held for the riders round a circus.

* * * * *

SUITABLE SITE FOR A POLICE “COURT.”--The area.

* * * * *

ON CECIL STREET, STRAND

At the top of the street many lawyers abound,
Below, at the bottom, the barges are found:
Fly, honesty, fly to a safer retreat,
For there’s craft in the river, and craft in the street.

BRADBURY AGNEW & CO LD. PRINTERS, LONDON AND TONBRIDGE.