“Really, really,” said the pious diffuser of Christianity, “we must exercise patience; we may get more damages if there should be another trial.”
“This be trial enough,” said Mr. Bumpkin; “and after all it were a trumpery case about a pig.”
“Quite so, quite so,” said the lawyer, rubbing his hands; “but you see, my dear sir, it’s not so much the pig.”
“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?”
“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.”
“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—”
“Well I remember; they made a very splendid affidavit too: I have a note of all of them in my memory.”
“Cows? Yes—I have it—our leading counsel had them; and the calf, if I remember rightly, went to the junior.”
‘“Who had the cheeses?” inquired Mr. Bumpkin.
“Cheeses!” said the good man. “Oh, yes, the cheeses; they went in refreshers.”
“And the poor old donkey?” asked Mrs. Bumpkin.
“Went for the opinion,” answered the lawyer.
“Where be thic bull o’ mine?” said Tom. “He wur the finest bull in all thic county, woren’t he, Nancy?”
“Ay,” answered Mrs. Bumpkin, “and ur follered I about, Tom, jist like a Christian.”
“So ur did, Nancy. Dost thee mind, when ur got through thic gap into Squire Stucky’s meadow, ’mong the cows?”
“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.”
“There I mind un,” said Bumpkin; “what coomed of un, Master Prigg?”
“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.”
“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.”
“Dear me,” said Mr. Prigg; “you entirely mis-apprehend—”