“And yet, sir, I can assure you he is no anchorite,” said Mr. Bulliwell.
These were jokes on the part of the Commissioner and the counsel; and therefore the attorneys, the clerks, and the audience tittered, as in duty bound when the wig forgot its wisdom and indulged in wit; and the Insolvents all laughed too—but for another reason. In fact, Mr. Frank Curtis had applied his right hand to his nose, and extended it in a fan-like form—or, in other words, he “took a sight” at the learned Commissioner, and worked an imaginary coffee-mill at the same time with his left hand.
Order being restored, the business proceeded.
“And, having been a missionary, I observe by your schedule, that you turned a Dissenting Minister, Insolvent?” said Mr. Commissioner Sneesby, interrogatively.
“I was a brand snatched from the burning, sir,” replied Mr. Sheepshanks; “and, having sorely wrestled with Satan——”
“Give me a direct answer, man!” cried the Commissioner, sharply. “Did you leave an institution connected with the Established Church and become a dissenter?”
“Heaven so willed it,” responded the sanctimonious insolvent, in a droning voice: “I had a call—and I obeyed it.”
“Who opposes this man?” enquired the Commissioner.
“Jeremiah Chubbley!” vociferated the Clerk of the Court.
“Here!” growled a man dressed as a bricklayer.