“Why so he is; but cantankerous and conceited fellows sometimes speak the truth. They’re like those cobwebbed, unwholesome-looking bottles which have lain a long time in cellars. You would hardly like to come in contact with them, and yet they often contain a clear and beautiful wine. This Mr. O’Rapley is a worthy man who knows a great deal, and although a bit of a toady to his superiors, expresses his opinions pretty freely behind their backs.”
“And what of this Master Bumpkin—this worthy Master Bumpkin I hear you speak of so often?”
“A very shrewd man in some respects and a silly one in others.”
“Not an unusual combination.”
“By no means.”
And then I told her what I have already related; to which she observed it was a pity some friend had not interposed and stopped the business. I answered, that friends were no doubt useful, but friends or no friends we must have law, and whether for sixpence or a shilling it ought to be readily attainable: that no one would be satisfied with having no other authority than that of friendship to settle our disputes; and besides that, friends themselves sometimes fell out and were generally the most hard to reconcile without an appeal to our tribunals.
“Well, it does seem a pity,” said she, “that judges cannot sit as they did in Moses’ time at all seasons so as to decide expeditiously and promptly between the claims of parties.”
“Why so they do sit ‘continuously,’” quoth I, “but the whole difficulty consists in getting at them. What is called procedure is so circuitous and perplexing, that long before you get to your journey’s end you may faint by the way.”
“Is there no one with good sense who will take this matter up and help this poor man to come by his rights. It must be very expensive for him to be kept away from his business so long, and his poor wife left all alone to manage the farm.”
“Why, so it is, but then going to law, which means seeking to maintain your rights, is a very expensive thing: a luxury fit only for rich men.”