“Good morning, Squire Loop,” says the deacon, drawing in his breath through his mouth all puckered up as if in the act of whistling. “How you do this morning? How is your wife and children? Doing well under Providence, I trust! Well, squire, I’ve come this morning with a little piece of paper to have you sue on’t. I don’t want to be deficient in Christian meekness, but it’s scripter doctrine, you know, ‘to pay what thou owest.’ He! he! he!”
Whilst the old deacon is thus giving evidence of his “Christian meekness,” I take the opportunity to look over the justice’s docket.
Ha! by all that’s laughable, there is a suit to come off to-day.
“Nirum Coger vs. Jacob Kettle”—plea, slander. “For that whereas the said defendant did on divers days and times, to wit, on the 4th day of July, A. D. 1847, being then and thereunder the influence of strong drink, and at the instigation of the devil, did, with sticks, staves and stones, to wit, with a sharp instrument commonly called the tongue, say, utter and publish, in the presence and hearing of divers respectable persons of the village, and to their great scandal, that he (meaning the said Nirum) was an infernal thief, and that he (meaning the said defendant) could prove it; and furthermore, that he (meaning the said Nirum) had stole a sheep and hid its ears in a stump,” &c. &c. &c.
Here’s fun enough in prospect for the greatest stoic in the universe. “I will be there! At eleven o’clock—and it is within a few minutes of the time now. So I’ll e’en take a seat.”
In a few minutes Nirum comes stumping over, on his crutches, from his little saddler’s shop opposite, and after him, mimicking his gait in the most ludicrous manner, comes his opponent, the most incorrigible vagabond in the whole village, not excepting “Loafing Joe” himself. Abe Kettle is certainly the very personification of blackguardism. “You are as great a vagabond as Abe Kettle,” is a perfect proverb throughout the place. This will be a rich trial, depend upon it.
By and by the jury (the standing one of the village,) come stringing in, looking very solemn and important. Esquire Loop takes his seat at his desk, “spectacles on nose,” and calls over the case.
“Nirum Coger.”
“Here.” (Propping himself up on his crutches.)
“Abraham Kettle.”