"But upon what ground?"
"Upon the ground of principle, sir. I cannot array myself against a mother who is defending her right to the possession of her own babes," said Ishmael gravely.
"Oh, I see! chivalric! Well, that is very becoming in a young man. But, bless you, my dear sir, you are mistaken in your premises. I do not really wish to part the mother and children. If you will give me your attention, I will explain—" began the would-be client.
"I beg that you will not, sir; excuse me, I pray you; but as I really cannot take the case, I ought not to hear your statement."
"Oh, nonsense, my young friend! I know what is the matter with you; but when you have heard my statement, you will accept my brief," said Walsh pleasantly, for, according to a well-known principle in human nature, he grew anxious to secure the services of the young barrister just in proportion to the difficulty of getting them.
And so, notwithstanding the courteous remonstrances of Ishmael, he commenced and told his story.
It was the story of an egotist so intensely egotistical as to be quite unconscious of his egotism; forever thinking of himself—forever oblivious of others except as they ministered to his self-interest; filled up to the lips with the feeling of his rights and privileges; but entirely empty of any notion of his duties and responsibilities. With him it was always "I," "mine," "me"; never "we," "ours," "us."
Ishmael listened under protest to this story that was forced upon his unwilling ears. At its end, when the narrator was waiting to see what impression he had made upon his young hearer, and what comment the latter would make, Ishmael calmly arose, took the brief from the table and put it into the hands of Mr. Walsh, saying, with a dignity—aye, even a majesty of mien rarely found in so young a man:
"Take your brief, sir; nothing on earth could induce me to touch it!"
"What! not after the full explanation I have given you?" exclaimed the man in naïve surprise.