“Proceed to open the cause, Mr. District Attorney,” continued the Judge. “Mr. Clerk, enter the plea of not guilty.”
After a short opening address from Mr. Van der School, Hiram was summoned to the bar to give his testimony. It was delivered to the letter, perhaps, but with all that moral coloring which can be conveyed under such expressions as, “thinking no harm,” “feeling it my bounden duty as a magistrate,” and “seeing that the constable was back'ard in the business.” When he had done, and the district attorney declined putting any further interrogatories, Mr. Lippet arose, with an air of keen investigation, and asked the following questions:
“Are you a constable of this county, sir?”
“No, sir,” said Hiram, “I'm only a justice-peace.”
“I ask you, Mr. Doolittle, in the face of this court, putting it to your conscience and your knowledge of the law, whether you had any right to enter that man's dwelling?”
“Hem!” said Hiram, undergoing a violent struggle between his desire for vengeance, and his love of legal fame: “I do suppose—that in—that is—strict law—that supposing—maybe I hadn't a real—lawful right; but as the case was—and Billy was so back'ard—I thought I might come for'ard in the business.”
“I ask you again, sir,” continued the lawyer, following up his success, “whether this old, this friendless old man, did or did not repeatedly forbid your entrance?”
“Why, I must say,” said Hiram, “that he was considerable cross-grained; not what I call clever, seeing that it was only one neighbor wanting to go into the house of another.”
“Oh! then you own it was only meant for a neighborly visit on your part, and without the sanction of law. Remember, gentlemen, the words of the witness, 'one neighbor wanting to enter the house of another.' Now, sir, I ask you if Nathaniel Bumppo did not again and again order you not to enter?”
“There was some words passed between us,” said Hiram, “but I read the warrant to him aloud.”