“Coots; what was it,—a Bill of Exchange?” asks his lordship.
“Snooks, my lud, Snooks;” says Mr. Ricochet, “with the greatest deference, my lud, his name is spelt with an S.”
Judge, still turning over his book from end to end calls to his clerk, and addressing Mr. Ricochet, says: “When do you say it was tried, Mr. Ricochet?”
“Yesterday, my lud; with great submission, my lud, I overheard your ludship say Coots. Snooks, my lud.”
Then all the Judges cried “Snooks!” as if it had been a puzzle or a conundrum at a family Christmas party, and they had all guessed it at once.
“Bring me the book for this term,” said the Judge sharply to his clerk.
“What was the name of the plaintiff?” enquired Mr. Justice Doughty.
“Bumpkin, my lud,” said Mr. Ricochet, “with great deference.”
“Ah, Pumpkin, so it was,” said the presiding Judge.
“With great submission, my lud, Bumpkin!”