"What do I take? Can't a man see cats without bein' thought queer? Any one can see 'em," he answered, turning to Uncle Job to confirm his statement.
"It is a clear case of jimjams," the lawyer went on; "and if you will take my advice, you will sleep more and booze less, my friend."
"Don't git gay now, grandpa, nor expect a fee for your advice. A little liquor wouldn't hurt you, or meat, either, if I'm any judge of its effect on skeletons," Blott replied, Without taking his eyes off the hiding-place of his enemies.
"Here, take a pull at this," the lawyer answered at length, handing him a flask filled with liquor. "The hair of the dog is good for the bite, they say; anyway, it will quiet your nerves till we get through with this trial, when I would advise you to go and drown yourself."
To this Blott made no reply, but taking the flask, emptied it without stopping to breathe.
"It's the drops that woman give me as has brought this on, an' nothin' else," he exclaimed, as he wiped his mouth with the flat of his hand.
What more he would have said or done I do not know, for all further conversation was here cut short by the entrance of the magistrate.
CHAPTER XVI
BEFORE THE LITTLE JUSTICE
The justice of the peace, a smiling, amiable man, given to trade and knowing nothing of the law, nor professing to, except as it was filtered to him through the hints of lawyers, bowed politely as he entered, and taking his seat, said: