"I find I am so called here, but I never was so before," said I, tartly.
"He means that the appellation is not usual in his own country," said one of the judges,—a small, red-eyed man, with pock-marks.
"Put it down," observed the president, gravely. "The witness informs us that he is only called Dodd."
"Kenny James Dodd, Monsieur," cried I, interrupting.
"Dodd—dit Kenny James," dictated the small judge; and the amanuensis took it down.
"And you swear you are the father of Dodd fils?" asked the president.
I suppose that the adage of a wise child knowing his own father cuts both ways; but I answered boldly, that I 'd swear to the best of my belief,—a reservation, however, that excited a discussion of three-quarters of an hour, the point being at last ruled in my favor.
I am bound to say that there was a great deal of legal learning displayed in the controversy,—a vast variety of authorities cited, from King David downwards; and although at one time matters seemed going against me, the red-eyed man turned the balance in my favor, and it was agreed that I was the father of my own son. If I knew but all, it might have been better for me there had been a hitch in the case. But I am anticipating.
There now arose another dispute, on a point of law, I believe, and which was, what degree of responsibility—there were fourteen degrees, it seems, in the Pandects—I stood in as regarded the present suit. From the turn the debate took, I began to suspect we might all of us have to plead to our responsibilities in the other world ere it could be finished; but the red-eyed man, who seemed the shrewdest of them all, cut the matter short by proposing that I should be invited—that's the phrase—to say so much as I pleased in the question before the Court.
"Yes, yes," assented the president. "Let him relate the affair." And the whole bar and the audience seemed to reecho the words.