CHAPTER VL

LOVE SUITS AND LAW SUITS.

"IT'S hot over there at the court-room,

Deacon," said I to the landlord, who was bustling about and putting things to rights in the bar-room.

"It's a drefful hot day, Squire," replied the Deacon, taking off his hat and wiping his forehead. "That ere court-house you'il find 's a rael oven. I sot on the jury myself a year ago last summer. Yes, jest two year ago this term, and though I'm tougher'n a biled owl, I thought, for a spell, I should ha' gin out. I raly feared I'd bake and melt."

"I think I'll take one of your iced punches before I go over," said I.

"I don't believe it 'ud harm ye a hair, Squire," observed the Deacon, leading the

way to the bar, "'specially as I hear you're goin' to argy that injunction case afore the judge this mornin', agin Squire Cranston. Sperit." continued the Deacon sententiously, while he cut the lemon"sperit is like every thing else, if you use it as it orter to be used it don't harm ye, but ef you aboose it ye hev to suffer. So you do ef you aboose bread, or meat, or vegetables, or cold water even, comin' out o' the lot in sich a hot day like this all sweaty and melted. There's a feller killed over on the mountain only week afore last, jest nothin' else in the world only drinkin' cold water arter he'd been in the barn, on the scaffil, a mowin' away a load o' hay. Ef it 'ud ha ben sperit now that he'd a drank, we'd ha' never heern the last on't; they'd ha' put an aocount on't in the Cataract, and the korry

ner's jury would ha' spit it right out— 'Death from intoxication '-but as it was, they brought in koody-sole-ail,' which is the most curousest kind of an ail I ever heerd on afore. The only kind o' sole-ail that I know on is a stunbruize, sich as I used to hev when I's a boy, a goin' barefooted, unless they meant original sin, and that's an ail that's in the souls of these red-hot temp'rance fellers as much as any body's, I guess. They make a sight o' fuss about temp'rance nowadays, and the minister over the river tu Ashbury says that no man who is raly born agin, and is a ginooine Christian, will drink or sell rum; but he's nothin' but one of them young squirts, jest out o' divinity school, with more zeal than discretion. He'll larn ef he lives. I can recollect how his preedycessor, old Dr. Cook, as nice an old man as ever breathed the breath o' life, how, when he come over on an exchange with our minister, ollus used to come here tu noonin as regular as could be, and ef it was summer time he'd take a cold brandy punch, and ef it was cool weather he'd ollus hev a hot whiskey. I've made him gallons I du believe, and he was as good a Christian, I reckon, as that young feller; and though I say it that shouldn't orter to say it, he used tu think I was one tu, poor, miserable, hell-desarvin creetur as Í am, a mere cumberer of the ground, and a monniment of sparing grace; and it's a wonder o' mercy I haint been cut off afore this, for, says he to me," continued the Deacon, taking breath, Doctor Cook says to me, amost the very last time he was ever over here tu preach, Deacon Curtiss,' says he, 'I'm a gettin' old and purty feeble, and I reckon that my tiresome airthly pilgrimage is drawin' to an eend, and my great reward is at hand.' 'Oh, I hope not, Doctor,' says I, kind o' cheerful, for I see he felt drefful kind o' down and hypoey. The Lord's will be done,' says he, a sithein; 'but this I want tu say, says he, Deacon Curtiss, as a dyin' man, which we all are, but me especially; and then, says he, Deacon, there's no man in Guildford whose Christian company I've enjoyed so much as I hev your'n in the short Sabbath interviews I've hed with you fer so many years, and I du hope and expect,' says he, that arter this life there will be a renooal of our intercourse in a better world.' There, Squire-I guess that'll suit ye."

"It's very good indeed," said I, after taking a sip of the punch. "Excellent, I'll sit down and enjoy it by the window."

"Du, Squire," urged the benevolent deacon, beginning to bury himself in his bar, brushing, wiping and putting things in place for the noon campaign.

That's right, I du like to see a man take comfort and enjoy the good things of this world. It's our duty tu, I raly believe."

Having finished my punch, I walked over to the court-house and went up into the court-room. The clerk was calling over the docket, and as I felt no interest in this proceeding, having but the case of Peck v. Harris to try, and that specially assigned, I did not at once take my seat inside the bar, but stopped near the door and looked about at my leisure. The court-room was one of the old-fashioned sort. The entrances were upon the side opposite the bench, and directly beneath the gallery. Then came two or three steps that brought you up to the level of the floor. The central space of the room was allotted to the lawyers, and was surrounded by the bar, literally a barrier of formidable appearance, being a fence of round pickets, an inch or more thick, and four feet high, painted white, with black points, this finishing touch having been given in order that the marks of the sweaty palms of spectators outside, who were wont to grasp the convenient spikes as if they were the horns of the altar, might be less obvious. The portal of this fortification was a wicket gate, jealously guarded by a constable with a ruddy complexion, and manifest ill temper, who was never known to admit, willingly, any one but judges, lawyers, jurymen and suitors whose cases were actually on trial. The floor of the space between the bar and the table had been painted, by the same ingenious artist who had blacked the picket points, in square patches of alternate white and lead-color; the white patches were streaked and sprinkled with lead-colored paint, and the lead-colored patches were streaked and sprinkled with white paint, and the whole was religiously believed to be, by many of the inhabitants of Guildford county, being thereto prompted by the aforesaid artist and his friends, a close imitation of a marble pavement. The bar table was constructed in the shape of a horseshoe, and covered with discolored green baize, fastened by brass nails to the edges, and spotted with ink. At the open part or heel of the horseshoe was situated the criminal dock, which was fortified by high pickets painted like those surrounding the bar, and flanked by the boxes of the Sheriffs. At the other side of the table, fronting the

dock, was placed the clerk's desk, in the rear of which rose a massive, panelled barrier. Behind this were the judges' chairs, sheltered beneath a canopy of faded red moreen curtains, looped up at the centre overhead. The duty of keeping this drapery in place was confided to a disconsolate looking spread eagle, that apparently with much ado prevented the dusty folds from falling together, and shrouding from view my friends Judge Walker and Cranston, and a tall gentleman in a riding coat; who stood together in the recess of the high, arched window, with their backs to the court-room, talking busily.

I forgot to mention that I saw the artist, Mr. Fitzhoward, seated within the ring of the bar table, by the side of a tall, light-complexioned, sandy-haired young lawyer, who held in his hand a moroccocovered memorandum book, which seemed to contain his list of cases, and my attention was more particularly directed towards the pair, when, after I had been sitting in the court-room a few minutes, the clerk called "Fitzhoward against Smith-two cases-I. Orlando Fitzhoward against Jemima A. Smith, and the same against William Smith."

There was a little sensation in the court-room at this call, and a smile was apparent on the faces of many of the lawyers and spectators when the young lawver promptly answered "Here," at the same time making a check in his memorandum book.

"Who for the plaintiff?" asked the deaf old clerk, putting his hand to his

enter my name for the defendants in both cases." As he looked up from the docket, his eyes met mine. I believe I blushed, for I was exchanging glances with Frank Eliot for the first time since we had parted in Paris seven years before.

I don't know what I should have done if Eliot had not advanced towards me with an extended hand, and a face all beaming with cordiality and pleasure; but the next moment we were grasping each other by the hand, and the next after that were in the library room, beginning to talk over old times.

"Why, why, old fellow," said Frank, after we had mutually explained, and begged each other's pardon for former offences and short-comings, and granted the same, and, in fine, renewed our friendship-"why, old fellow; so far from holding any grudge against you on account of that affair with Sophie, I am under a weight of obligation that I never can remove. Ugh! I had an escape, and your faithful friendship I have to thank for it."

"Pshaw!" said I, feeling somewhat embarrassed at this protestation of gratitude, especially as it was accompanied by a slight twinkle of my friend's eye; "don't mention it; if I rendered you a good service you know very well that I had my reward at the time."

"I'm glad of it-speaking of marrying, you are a bachelor yet, I believe?

"Yes, thank you," I replied, emphasizing the pronoun slightly.

You are married, I've heard," said I, after a pause.

"Yes, thank you," replied Frank, using the same emphasis.

"Yes, I was married several years, and, by-the-by, you'll be pleased to know that I've got the best wife in the world, as you shall see this day."

"Yes," I replied, with a shrug of my shoulders, "cousin Helen!"

me how absurd that would be. "We'll offset my success with Madame La Vigne against yours with Mrs. Eliot," said I.

"Very well, then," said Frank, gayly; "all our difficulties are settled, and we are friends once more. And now no roof but that of your friend must shelter you, so long as you remain in town. I hope it will be a month."

"Thank you," said I, "but I remain a day or two only, and-"

"Come, come," said Eliot, interrupting me; "I shall take no denial. I have invited Judge Walker and Cranston to dinner to-day, and you will all ride down together, as soon as you have concluded the arguments in the case you are to try this morning."

"I fear we shall not get through in season." said I.

"Oh-ho," laughed Frank, ". never fear for that, I'll trust to Judge Walker to put you through by dinner time. Two o'clock's the hour, and we will wait for you if need be."

"Very well, then," said I.

"Au revoir. The wagon will be at Curtiss's by one."

As I again entered the court-room, the clerk was in the last stages of the long docket, calling the U's, V's, and W's. The judge was lying back in his cushioned chair, and when his eye fell upon me, he beckoned me to come to him.

The judge leaned over his desk to whisper to me as I went up to the bench. All made up with Eliot, I suppose?" said he; and when I had confirmed this conjecture, he continued. "He'll give us a good dinner to-day, if we don't spoil it by being late."

is ready to hear you in the cause specially assigned-Peck against Harris. Allow me to say," he continued, dropping his voice, and again leaning over his desk -"allow me to suggest that brevity in your arguments, and a little leisure before dinner, are both extremely desirable, and without one we cannot have the other today. In fact," said he, in a still lower tone, we ought to be at Eliot's at halfpast one at the latest, and it is now eleven. State your points clearly, gentlemen, all that you wish to make, and comment upon them at the length that you think necessary; but the court is intelligent enough, I think, to comprehend them without prolix argument. Go on, Mr. Cranston; proceed with your argument. I have just looked over your bill; there's no

necessity for consuming time with reading it."

Though I was, without doubt, as deeply in love as any young man in New England, nevertheless, in ten minutes after Cranston had risen to his feet, I had wholly forgotten Mary Smith. As I listened admiringly but anxiously to the ingenious and forcible argument of my acute and learned friend, I ceased to fear that he might be my rival in a love suit, and remembered only that he was my antago nist in the issue of Peck v. Harris. If a lawyer be crossed in love, there is surely no necessity of his dying with a broken heart, or of mounting his steed and going off to the wars. If, in the courtroom, and in the excitement and absorbing interest of a trial, he cannot for the time forget his private griefs, he is no lawyer.

As I have before told you, gentlemen, this cause of Peck v. Harris was one of considerable importance, and Cranston had evidently prepared himself carefully for the argument. He spoke with an air of confidence, and with that fluency of diction which, except in a few remarkable instances, is the result of only constant practice. I saw, with misgivings, that a majority of the bar seemed to be thoroughly convinced of the correctness of his law and his logic, and thankful enough was I that the issue was to be decided not by them, but by the clear-headed and learned jurist who sat on the bench above us, listening with serious attention to the earnest speech of the eloquent advocate addressing him, occasionally taking notes with imperturbable gravity, and sometimes reaching forward for the books from which Cranston cited his authorities. Cranston spoke about half an hour, and when he sat down, although I had been pretty well convinced that I had the law on my side, I trembled for my case.

"There, Lovel," he whispered, as he took his seat, and gathered his papers together, "I've finished you; but don't die hard. It's unpleasant to see even an adversary struggling in the agonies of death; but get up and go through the motions to satisfy your clients, and we'll go over, take a punch, and dress for dinner."

"Wait an hour and see who's the corpse," I retorted, making a hasty memorandum on my brief.

"Go on, Mr. Lovel, if you're ready," said the Judge, looking at the clock over his spectacles.

"May it please your Honor," said I, rising, and addressing the court, and be ginning a speech of some twenty minutes

in length, which, though little more extended than my brief, was yet, I am bound to believe, a good one, to the point and effective, for, without anticipating matters to inform you, gentlemen, that the Supreme Court of Errors has since decided the law to be as I claimed it was, the which would be immodest and otherwise improper, no sooner had I taken my seat at its conclusion, wiped my face, and drank a sip of lukewarm water, than Cranston rose to reply, without a word of aside bantering by way of interlude; and, at the same time, old Governor Headly, whom I knew by reputation to be one of the soundest lawyers in the State, suddenly deluged a tin spittoon with tobacco juice, tipped his arm-chair sideways, leaned over towards me, and said, in an emphatic whisper, "You're right, young man, and if Walker decides against you, carry it up.”

I saw, too, that my antagonist had been surprised at the method of my defence, and evidently labored hard to controvert a course of reasoning to meet which he had not prepared himself. You see, gentlemen, the main point in the case was this-A and B, co-partners, residing in New York, contract with C

Here the stout gentleman, who had up to this time listened attentively, yawned in the most infectious manner.

"On second thoughts," said the lawyer, "I will not trouble you with a statement of the case. It is reported in the last volume of Knight, the 21st, page 306, and may be read by any of you that are curious."

The Judge had been gazing for a minute over his spectacles, in an abstracted manner, took out his watch, and compared it with the clock-dial on the front of the gallery, opposite the bench, and glancing towards Cranston and me, he quietly said, "I will give my opinion in this case, gentlemen, to-morrow morning, at the opening of the court. It is now one o'clock," he continued, with a sweeping glance at the whole body of lawyers before him, that finally rested on the clock. "Mr. Sheriff, adjourn—”

"If your Honor please," cried half a dozen lawyers at once, springing to their feet, and anxious to press their motions before adjournment.

"Gentlemen," remarked the urbane judge, "allow me to remind you that it is the dinner hour, and unless some gentleman wishes to make a motion to-day that cannot be as well made to-morrow, I shall tell the sheriff to adjourn the court. The jury, gentlemen, will not be impanelled

in the first case to-morrow until ten o'clock, and I will come in at nine to hear motions. Mr. Sheriff, adjourn the court until nine o'clock to-morrow morning."

I was a good deal dismayed, when, in the privacy of my own chamber at the tavern, I prepared to dress myself for dinner, and began to overhaul the scanty wardrobe closely packed in my small trunk, which, at starting from home, I had supposed would be fine enough, and every way sufficient for my journey to and from, and brief business sojourn in the quiet country town of Guildford.

"Have you got a pin?" inquired Cranston, putting his head in at the door. "My mother and sister went away last week to Sachem's Head, and here's a button off my shirt. I wish it was in Mrs. Judy M Mullin's eye, and be hanged to her!"

"Ready in there?" inquired the voice of Judge Walker at the door; and forthwith that portly gentleman made his entrance, attired in a new, lustrous, blue coat, black pantaloons, and a light buff, cashmere vest, buttoned loosely across his broad chest, leaving exposed the snowy frill and ruffle of his shirt.

"My eyes!" cried Cranston, "what a dandy; did you ever see the like before in your life?"

"Not on him," I replied; "he never dresses that way in our county."

"Nor any where else but in Guildford," continued Cranston. "What did I tell you yesterday?"

"Come," said the Judge, smiling benevolently at our remarks; "come, Eliot's wagon is at the door."

"Look at him!" cried Cranston; "isn't it too bad. There he is, full five and fifty-"

"No, no, not by five years and more," interposed the Judge.

"Gray as a badger," continued Cranston, "and superior to all earthly pas sions, except a love for his dinner; and yet he is as neat and trim as if he had just stepped from a bandbox; while we, young fellows, going not to dinner but to look at and sigh after a pair of pretty girls, are forced to labor under the disadvantages of old coats and ill-appointed shirts."

"Come, gentlemen, we are losing time," cried the Judge, impatiently.

We found a Jersey wagon and a span of fine horses and a driver waiting for us, and got aboard the vehicle, closely watched during the operation by the artist, Mr. Fitzhoward, and his lawyer, Mr. Higginson, who sat at the farther end of the