“All right,” I said, extending my left digits towards him for an honorarium.
“Oh, I am not going to pay you,” he remarked coolly, “so you need not expect it.”
“Ah, well,” I returned, quietly and with the air of an ill-used man, “I shall do like old Thurlow did, he could never come to a decision without a fee, and so when he had to decide upon some matter for himself he would take a guinea out of one pocket and put it into another. Now what are your questions?” I always preferred answering his queries to lending him books, for although he was a miserable hand at accounts he was a most excellent book-keeper.
“I suppose you know,” began T. J., “that a short time ago, owing to a heavy storm, part of the line of the Blank Railway gave way”——
“That is primâ facie evidence of the insufficiency of its construction; and a company is bound to build its works in such a manner as that they will be capable of resisting all extremes of weather, which in the climate through which the line runs might be expected, though rarely, to occur. So say that august assembly, the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council.”[560]
“Can’t you wait a bit—that’s not the point at all;” said Jones.
“Go on then.”
“Several men were killed, and, as is usual, they all had large families of small children. Three of the wives have come to me to see if I can get damages against the company for them.”
“Were they passengers or employees, for that makes a great difference,” I said.
“One was employed on the line, the others were not,” replied Tom.