“I suppose he’s a man of some property, eh?”
Mr. Bumpkin looked for a few moments without speaking, and then said:
“He wur allays a close-fisted un, and I should reckon have a goodish bit o’ property.”
“Because you know,” remarked the solicitor, “it is highly important, when one wins a case and obtains damages, that the defendant should be in a position to pay them.”
This was the first time that ever the flavour of damages had got into Bumpkin’s mouth; and a very nice flavour it was. To beat Snooks was one thing, a satisfaction; to make him pay was another, a luxury.
“Yes, sir,” he repeated; “I bleeve he ave, I bleeve he ave.”
“What makes you think so?”
“Wull, fust and foremust, I knows he lent a party a matter of a hundred pound, for I witnessed un.”
“Then he hasn’t got that,” said the lawyer.
“Yes ur ave, sir, or how so be as good; for it wur a morgage like, and since then he’ve got the house.”