“I want to prove, Mistur Judge, that Mr. Richer was one of the law-makers, that he voted agin silver, and did not try to do anything or to make any law to make money as plenty as it use to be.
“I want to show that Mr. Richer already has got all we have raised by our hard work for the last sixteen years, and, Mistur Judge, I think that instid of you sellin our farm to satisfy him, you ort to order him to give us back all the money we have paid him, except the interest, and let us give him back the property we got from him; we are willin to do this, and give him our improvements besides, if he will give us back our $1,700. This is all we ask, Mistur Judge.
“If you grant it we would have a few dollars to keep us in our old age, and Mr. Richer would have all we got from him and $2,212 interest money besides.
“If you foreclose us, as this high-toned lawyer asks you to do, we will have nothing left, and Mr. Richer will have as much as he had before and $3,912 of our hard-earned money besides, part of it, Mistur Judge, bein money I got from home when father died.”
The judge kind a looked at me pityin like, and says, says he:
“Mrs. Gaskins, your argament may be all right from your point of view; but it is not law, Mrs. Gaskins. It is not law. We must proceed according to law.”
“What is law?” says I. “Haint it justice?” pleadin like.
The judge studied a minit, cleared his throat a time or two, and then says he:
“It is supposed to be, Mrs. Gaskins. It is supposed to be. It should be justice; it should be. I appreciate the position of you two old people. I believe, as you say, that you have worked hard and saved that you might get your farm paid for and have a home in your old age. I believe you have done all you could do. Your argament has been well made.
