Of course, the cause could not be in the paper again for some time: they must suit Mr. Ricochet’s convenience now: and accordingly another period of waiting had to be endured. Mr. Bumpkin was almost distracted, but his peace of mind was restored by the worthy Prigg, who persuaded him that a most laudable piece of good fortune had been brought about by his intervention; and that was the preventing the wily Snooks from keeping the verdict he had snatched.
What a small thing will sometimes comfort us!
Mr. Bumpkin was, indeed, a lucky man; for if his case had not been in the paper when at last it was, it would have “gone over the Long Vacation.”
At length I saw Mr. Justice Pangloss, the eminent Chancery Judge, take his seat in the Bail Court. He was an immense case lawyer. He knew cases that had been tried in the reigns of the Edwards and Henries. A pig case could not, therefore, come amiss.
A case lawyer is like Moses and Sons; he can fit anybody, from Chang down to a midget. But there is sometimes an inconvenience in trying to fit an old precedent on to new circumstances: and I am not unfrequently reminded of the boy whose corduroy trousers were of the exact length, and looked tolerable in front; but if you went round they stuck out a good deal on the other side. He might grow to them, no doubt, but it is a clumsy mode of tailoring after all.
Now Mr. Bumpkin, of course, could not be sure that his case was “coming on.” All he knew was, that he
must avoid Snooks’ snatching another verdict. He had been to great expense, and a commission had actually been issued to take Joe’s evidence while his regiment was detained at Malta. Mr. Prigg had taken the plaintiff into a crowd, and there had left him early in the morning.
Mr. Bumpkin’s appearance even in the densest crowd was attractive, to say the least: and many and various were the observations from time to time made by the vulgar roughs around as to his personal appearance. His shirtcollar was greatly praised, so was the beauty of his waistcoat: while I heard one gentleman make an enquiry which showed he was desirous of ascertaining what was the name of the distinguished firm which had the honour of supplying him with hats. One said it was Heath, he could tell by the brim; another that it was Cole, he went by the polish; and the particular curl of the brim, which no other hatter had ever succeeded in producing. While another gentleman with one eye and half a nose protested that it was one of Lincoln and Bennett’s patent dynamite resisters on an entirely new principle.
The subject of all these remarks listened as one in doubt as to whether they were levelled at him or in any other direction. He glanced at the many eyes turned upon him, and heard the laughter that succeeded every new witticism. His uncertainty as to whether he was “the party eamed at,” heightened the amusement of the wits.
Now came a bolder and less mistakable allusion to his personal appearance: