She said she knew as much about it as anybody; she want "going to be abused, trod upon; and no man was a man that would insult a poor woman;" and bursting into tears of rage, she twitched out of her chair, and went sobbing away.
Philista closed, and Sile stated, in his opening to the court on the part of the defence, that this was a "little the smallest case he ever had seen." His client stood out high and dry; she stood up like Andes looking down on a potato-hill; he didn't propose to offer scarcely any proof; and that little was by way of set-off—tongue against tongue—according to the statute in such case made and provided; he hoped the court would examine the law for himself. (Here Sile unrolled a long account against Philista, measuring some three feet, and held it up to the Squire and jury.) This, he said, was a reg'lar statement of the slanderous words used by Philista Filkins agin Charity Beadle for the last three years, with the damage annexed; everything had been itemized, and kept in tip-top style; all in black and white, just as it happened. Sile was about reading this formidable instrument, when Ike objected.
"That can't be did in this 'ere court!" exclaimed Ike; "the light of civilization has shed itself a little too thick for that. This court might just as well try to swallow a chestnut-burr, or a cat, tail foremost, as to get such a proposition a-down its throat."
Squire Longbow said he'd "never heer'd of such law—yet the question was new to him."
"Laid down in all the law-books of the nineteenth century!" exclaimed Sile, "and never heard on't!"
"Never did."
"Why," continued Sile, "the statute allows set-off where it is of the same natur of the action. This, you see, is slander agin slander."
"True," replied the Squire.
"True, did you say!" exclaimed Ike. "You say the statute does allow slander to be set off; our statute—that statute that I learned by heart before I knew my A B C's—you old bass-wood headed son—" But the Squire stopped Ike just at this time. "We will decide the question first," he said. "The court have made no decision yet."
Squire Longbow was in trouble. He smoked furiously. He examined the statutes, looked over his docket, but he did not seem to get any light. Finally, a lucky thought struck him. He saw old Mr. Brown in the crowd, who had the reputation of having once been a justice in the State of New York. The Squire arose and beckoned to him, and both retired to an adjoining room. After about a half an hour, the Squire returned and took his seat, and delivered his opinion. Here it is:—