Mr. Ricochet, Q.C., who appeared with Mr. Weasel for the defendant, said he was ready for the defendant.
“Call the plaintiff!” said a voice.
Loud cries for Bumpkin, who was just pushing his way down the passage outside.
“Does anyone answer?” asked his lordship; “do you know if any gentleman is instructed, Mr. Ricochet?”
“I am not aware, my lud.”
“Stand up and be sworn, gentlemen,” says the associate. Up stood the jury; and in less than half a minute they found a verdict for the defendant, counterclaim being abandoned, just as Mr. Bumpkin had pushed into Court. And judgment is given.
The business having been thus got through, the Court rose and went away. And then came in both counsel and Mr. Prigg and Horatio; and great complaints were made of everybody except the Judge, who couldn’t help it.
But our administration of justice is not so inelastic that it cannot adapt itself to a set of circumstances such as these. It was only to make a few more affidavits, and to appear before his lordship by counsel, and state the facts in a calm and respectful manner, to obtain the necessary rectification of the matter. All was explained and all forgiven. Bumpkin v. Snooks was to be restored to the paper upon payment of the costs of the day—a trifling matter, amounting only to about eighteen pounds seventeen shillings. But a severe admonition from the Bench accompanied this act of grace: “The Court cannot be kept waiting,” said his lordship; “and it is necessary that all suitors should know that if they are not here when their cases are called on they will be struck out, or the party to the cause who is here will be entitled to a verdict, if the defendant; or to try his case in the other’s absence, if he be the plaintiff. It was idle to suppose
that parties could not be there in time: it was their business to be there.”
At this every junior barrister nodded approvingly, and the usher called silence.