present circumstances. It is always an apple of ashes at the best; but, weighed now against the comforts and happiness of a peaceful life, it was worse than ashes—it was poison.
* * * * *
Here I awoke.
“Now,” said my wife, “is it not just as I told you? I knew that artful Sergeant would enlist poor stupid Joe?”
“O,” quoth I, “have I been talking again?”
“More than ever; and I am very sorry Joe has deserted his kind master. I am afraid now he will lose his case.”
“I am not concerned about that at present; my work is but to dream, not to prophesy events. I hope Mr. Bumpkin will win, but nothing is so uncertain as the Law.”
“And why should that be? Law should be as certain as the Multiplication Table.”
“Ah,” sighed I, “but—”
“A man who brings an action must be right or wrong,” interrupted my wife.