The Court tittered. There were a few remarks made as to Samuel Potter's blissful ignorance.
'Do you mean to tell me you don't know what a bill is?' asked the Crown prosecutor.
'Well, that depends,' said Potter.
'What depends? Depends on what? Answer me that, sir!' thundered the irate man with the flowing wig.
'Well, it's this way, you see. If you stayed at my shanty and ran up a score, which you didn't pay, and I asked you for the amount, I'd call that a bill.'
The learned gentleman pulled his black cloak furiously and said,—
'If I owed you a bill I would pay it, provided you presented it in due form.'
'That's what I couldn't do, your worship,' said Potter.
'Why?' asked the judge.
'Because I can't read or write.'