“Danged if that beant my case,” said Mr. Bumpkin; “but it ain’t my counsellor.”
“Make way for the plaintiff,” shouted the Usher; “stand on one side—don’t crowd up this passage. This way, sir, make haste; the Court’s waiting for you, why do you keep the Court waiting in this way?”
“I was just going to strike your case out,” said the Judge, “the public time can’t be wasted in this way.”
Bumpkin scrambled along through the crowd, and was
hustled into the witness-box. The Judge put up his eye-glass, and looked at the plaintiff as though he was hardly fit to bring an action in a Superior Court. Up went the book into his hand. “Take the book in your right hand. Kiss the book; now attend and speak up—speak up so that those gentlemen may hear.”
“Why weren’t you here before?” asked the Judge.
“I wur, my lord?”
“Didn’t you hear your learned counsel opening your case?”
“I didn’t know it wur my case,” said Bumpkin, amid roars of laughter.
“I don’t wonder at that,” said Mr. Ricochet, looking at the jury.