“Aw dunnot know. Aw reckon there’s not much to choose among ’em he mun be th’ best brass can buy.”
“Well there’s young Allison; aw don’t know but what he’d be more cut out for a job like this. But they say he’s for th’ Crown. Him an’ Justice Radcliffe ha’ been here, there an’ everywheer huntin’ up evidence agen th’ ’sizes.”
“Aye, trust th’ quality for havin’ th’ best o’ everything,” spoke my mother.
“Well, if tha thinks ’Torney Blackburn can be trusted, tha can set him on. But awm feart them lawyers is all in a string. Yo’ never know who yo’ can trust these days.”
“Well yo’ see,” said my father, “we’n got to trust ’em an’ pray for th’ best. Aw supposes there’s summot i’ th’ nature o’ th’ law ’at makes it difficult for th’ best on ’em to be ony better nor he sud be; an’ happen if they warn’t a bit crooked theirsen, they’d noan be fit to straighten other folk’s twists. But ‘speak of a man as yo’ find him,’ say I, an’ aw’ve allus fun ’Torney Blackburn as straight as they make ’em. But aw wish we could ha’ had Mr. Allison all th’ same.”
“Why?” asked my aunt.
“Well, somehow he’st th’ name o’ bein’ thicker wi’ Owd Harry; an’ that goes a long way i’ law.”
And so it was settled that the defence of George should be entrusted to Mr. Blackburn, of the New Street.
I went with my father the very next day to see Mr. Blackburn. I did not like being seen about, but there seemed nothing for it but to brazen it out and take my luck. I had never been to a lawyer’s office before, and felt as if I were going to have a tooth pulled; but my father opened the door of the outer office as bold as brass. There was a little old wizened man with a face like yellow crinkled sheepskin, and a suit that had once been black, maybe, but now was rusty brown and white at the seams.
“Is he in?” said my father.