"How in airth did he know anything 'bout floppin' coppers—he warn't thar—he warn't a juryman—he was the court—they might-er flopped for all he knew—but he had seen Mr. Swipes, who was one of the men who set, and he says thar warn't a copper flopped."
To the thirteenth point, as follows,—
"There was a verdict, and it was recorded on his docket—it was, 'that the jury couldn't agree, one of 'em standin' out 'cause he was a-feared or wanted to be pop'lar with somebody;' and that was jist as it was gin in."
Squire Longbow had returned much more matter to the court than he was required to do by his affidavit, which has not been stated—mere speculations of his own about the law and facts of the case as they appeared before him, all of which he said the court "orter know."
The judge of the county court was an enlarged edition of Longbow himself—enlarged, because his jurisdiction was greater. He was one of the foremost men of the county, because he was one of the most independent. He owned a great deal of land, and a great deal of stock—bought and sold much—and had acquired a practical knowledge of the way things were done in a new country. He had been school inspector, highway commissioner, supervisor, and member of the legislature, and he was now judge. He did not know any law, except what Bates, Turtle, and other kindred pettifoggers had taught him—and when he shot at a case, he shot in the dark. He was right half of the time upon the result of chances; and that, perhaps, was doing as well as half the judges do, who pretend to more knowledge in the profession. He was a stumpy, red-headed man, and very "percussion" in his decisions—gave very short or no reasons for them—and like Longbow, didn't know a technicality from a sign-post.
The law points in the appeal were first to be argued—if Turtle failed on them, he was then entitled to a trial on the facts.
Turtle argued his law points in a pile. He flung the whole return at the judge in gross, playing first upon this string, and then upon that, abusing everybody connected with the cause but his own witnesses and himself, until he blew himself almost entirely out of breath.
He began by flattering the court. "It was sunthin'," he said, "to have a county court to 'peal up to—if 'twarn't for that, he'd stop business—Squire Longbow had got so that la' warn't la' any more with him. When he first came inter the settlement, he was a pretty good justis, but he was as woolly as a sheep now. If he got a crotchet inter his head, you couldn't beat it out—he was worse now than he was afore he got married the second time. The cause below was killed by him—he was 'torney, and justis, and jury—he had 'greed to go for defendant from the start—had knock'd the jury inter fits by takin' Sile Bates off on't agin la'—had let folks in to swear that hadn't lived in the State six months, and nobody know'd whether they were to be believed or not; but the presumption of la' was agin 'em—that he cuss'd him for it, but that didn't do any good—that the Squire drank himself, and let the jury get drunk, shocking as the fact might be—and yet he warn't a drunken man—rather a sober man—but it was done by him to fuddle the jury, and spile his cause—that he let in the almight-i-est set-off he ever did hear on—the very thought on't was 'nough to give this court spasms—and this court orter for that, if for nothin' else, 'point a guar-dine over him—that he told him when he did it, that he'd foller the case to the backside of sundown, and blow him inter flinders, but he didn't seem to care 'bout it—that the jury did flop on the verdict, and the justis' knew it, and his return warn't worth shucks on that p'int"—and so on for an hour or more, until he became exhausted.
Sile Bates rose and said, "that, 'cordin' to the return of the justice, Turtle's speech was a lie!"
Mr. Turtle hurled an inkstand and contents at Bates's head, which besmeared him from head to foot.