"Don't you recollect, sir, you defended me at Kingston for a burglary charge, and got me off., Mr. Orkins, in flyin' colours?"
I recollected. He seemed to have the flying colours on his lips. "Very well," I said; "I hope you will never want defending again."
"No, sir; never."
"That's right."
"Would a teapot be of any use to you, Mr. Orkins?"
"A teapot!"
"Yes, sir, or a few silver spoons—anything you like to name, Mr.
Orkins."
I begged him to leave the court.
"Mr. Orkins, I will; but I am grateful for your gettin' me off that job, and if a piece o' plate will be any good, I'll guarantee it's good old family stuff as'll fetch you a lot o' money some day."
I again told him to go, and, disappointed at my not accepting things of greater value, he said,—