Jab. (beaming). Your lordship's acute intellect has comprehended my pons asinorum with great intelligence.
The Judge (looking at him under his spectacles). Umph! Well, go on. What next?
[So old Jab goes on gassing away, at such a deuce of a rate that the Judge gives up all idea of taking notes, and sits staring at Jab in resigned disgust. (It was spell-bound attentiveness.—H. B. J.) Jab will spout and won't keep to the point; but, all the same, I fancy, somehow, he's getting round the Jury. He's such a jolly innocent kind of old ass, and they like him because he's no end of sport. The plaintiff's a devilish fine girl, and gave her evidence uncommonly well; but, unless Witherington turns up again, I believe old Jab will romp in a winner, after all! I haven't taken down anything else, except his wind-up, when of course he managed to get in a speech.
Jab. Believe me, gentlemen of the jury, this is simply the barefaced attempt to bleed and mulct a poor impecunious Indian. For it is incredible that any English female, of genteel upbringings and the lovely and beauteous appearance which you have all beheld in this box, it is incredible, I say, that she should seriously desire to become a mere unconsidered unit in a bevy of Indian brides! How is she possibly to endure a domestic existence exposed to the slings and arrows of a perpetual gorilla warfare from various native aunts and sisters-in-law, or how is she to reconcile her dainty and fastidious stomach, after the luscious and appetising fare of a Bayswater boarding-house, to simple, unostentatious, and frequently repulsive Indian eatables? No, Misters of the jury, as warm-hearted noble-minded English gentlemen, you will never condemn an unfortunate and industrious native graduate and barrister to make a cripple of his career, and burden his friends and his families with such a bone of contention as a European better half, who will infallibly plunge him into the pretty pickle of innumerable family jars! I shall now vacate the witness-box in favour of my intimate friend and fatherly benefactor, Hon'ble Sir Chetwynd Cummerbund, who will tell you——
The Judge (rising). Before we have the pleasure of seeing Sir Chetwynd here, Mr Jabberjee, there is a little formality you appear to have overlooked. The plaintiff's counsel will probably wish before you leave the box to put a few questions to you in cross-examination, and that must stand over till to-morrow. (At this, old Jab's jaw falls several holes.)
Note by Mr Jabberjee.—Hereford Road, Bayswater.—I am excessively gratified by the result of my first day's trial, being already the established favourite and chartered libertine of the whole Court, who split their sides at my slightest utterances. So I am no longer immeasurably alarmed by the prospect of being crossly examined—especially since Witherington, Q.C., has abandoned his brief in despair to a tongue-tied junior, who is incompetent to exclaim Bo! to a goose. Indeed, I have some thoughts of declining haughtily to be interrogated by a mere underling.
The only fly in the ointment of my success is the utter indifference of Jessimina to my aforesaid triumphs. At the termination of the hearing to-day, I beheld her so deeply engrossed in smiling and cordial converse with the smartly-attired curly-headed young solicitor who is acting on her behalf that she was totally unconscious of my vicinity!
Alackaday! varium et mutabile semper fœmina!