(_A STORY OF THE PARLIAMENTARY BAR._)
"You will not forget, Sir," said my excellent and admirable clerk,
"that to-morrow you have to appear before a Committee of the House of
Commons, in the matter of the Glogsweller Railway Extension?"
[Illustration]
I glanced somewhat severely at PORTINGTON, but was gratified to find
that his face was quite free from any suggestion of levity. I was
the more pleased with the result of my investigation, as, truth to
tell, the delivery of a brief in the matter of the Extension of the
Glogsweller Railway Company had been somewhat of an event in my life.
I had never before had the honour of practising at the Parliamentary
Bar. So for months my mind had been entirely occupied with the date
fixed for my appearance in the Committee Room of the House of Commons,
known technically, I believe, at St. Stephens, as "upstairs."
"You will be sure to meet me there, to-morrow, PORTINGTON?" I
observed.
"Certainly, Sir," replied my clerk. "But, as I have to be down at the
Mayor's Court with Mr. CHARLES O'MULLIGAN in the morning, I daresay
you won't mind if I come with your sandwiches and sherry, Sir, at two,
or thereabouts."
I acquiesced, somewhat unwillingly. O'MULLIGAN shares with me the good
offices of PORTINGTON, but generally contrives to secure the lion's
portion of his services. I had arranged--understanding that no
adjournment was made for luncheon--that some refreshment should be
conveyed to me during the day's proceedings, so that my voice should
lose none of its wonted resonance (owing to famine-produced weakness)
when the time arrived for my advocacy of the cause of my clients.
Those clients had, so to speak, but a collateral interest in the day's
proceedings. The great North-East Diddlesex Railway were promoting
a Bill to carry a new line into the neighbourhood of the Glogsweller
Extension, and my duty was confined to cross-examining one of the
expert witnesses that I knew would be asked to support the G.N.E.D.R.
To be candid, we had a goods depôt near their suggested terminus, and
were fearful that their proposed proximity would damage our mineral
traffic. The matter was simple enough, but I had taken months in
carefully studying a small library of charts, Encyclopædias, and
Parliamentary Blue Books, in mastering it.
On the morning following my conversation with PORTINGTON, duly robed
(I had put on my wig and gown in Chambers), I travelled by hansom
to Westminster, and presented myself at the side entrance to St.
Stephen's Hall. I had no difficulty in finding the Committee Room
devoted to the consideration of the alleged necessities of the Great
North-East Diddlesex Railway. It was a large and pleasant apartment,
with a distant view through the windows of St. Thomas's Hospital. At
a horse-shoe table sat the Committee, some four or five gentlemen, who
might have filled equally appropriately any one of the pews reserved
in the Royal Courts for the accommodation of a Special Jury. I took
my place amongst a number of my learned brethren, who were perfect
strangers to me. The table in front of us was littered with plans,
charts, and documents of all descriptions. A Q.C. brought with him
a large bag of buns, and two cups of custard, and there were other
refreshments mingled with the exhibits before us. On chairs at the
side were Solicitors; at our back, separated from us by a bar,
were the Public. On the walls were hanging huge charts, giving in
pantomimic proportions the proposed progress of the projected line.
In the corners of these charts were explanations why such a part
was coloured green, or red, or blue. During the day's proceedings an
attendant was told off to trace the course of a counsel's harangue by
pointing out, with a lecturer's wand, the various places referred to
in his speech.
I was gratified to find that the expert whose evidence it was my duty
to test by cross-examination, was soon in the witness-box. He was a
gentleman of considerable bulk, which gave one of my learned friends,
who was the first to take him in hand, the opportunity of saying,
that he was a "witness of great weight," a remark which caused much
laughter--even the Chairman of the Committee, a somewhat austere
person, indulging in a stealthy smile at the ingenious sally. Such
waggish flashes as this, I need scarcely say, were most welcome, and
afforded, when they came, a pleasant relief to the necessary dryness
that characterised, perforce, the proceedings. As the hands of the
clock progressed, waiters carried into the Committee, various light
refreshments, such as brandy-and-sodawater, sandwiches, and buns. My
colleagues, too, when not actively engaged in the declamatory duties
of their profession, partook of the viands with which they had
provided themselves before the commencement of the day's labours. Thus
the cups devoted to custard soon were empty, and the paper bags, once
occupied by buns, crumpled up and discarded. I gazed at the clock.
It was past two, and I was getting terribly hungry. I felt that my
voice was becoming weak from famine. This would never do, and might
endanger my clients' interests. I looked round eagerly for PORTINGTON.
He was nowhere to be seen. I whispered to a colleague, "would the
examination-in-chief last much longer?" and was told it could not
possibly be concluded within a quarter of an hour. I made up my mind
to hasten to a refreshment-bar I had seen in the corridor before I had
entered the room, and hurriedly left my seat. I pushed my way through
the public, and had scarcely got outside when I found my faithful
clerk laden with sandwiches and sherry making post-haste towards me.
"Get back, Sir, as quick as you can," he cried, as he thrust the
invigorating ingredients of my midday meal into my hands; "run, Sir,
run; I hope they haven't noticed your absence!"
Rather offended at the peremptory tone adopted by my subordinate
I returned to my seat, and was pleased to find that the
examination-in-chief was nearly ended. I pulled myself together.
I drank a glass of sherry and finished a sandwich. My voice was in
excellent tone, and I felt that the crisis of my life had indeed been
reached. I knew that it was now or never. I had this great chance of
distinguishing myself by pleasing my clients and securing a practice
at the Parliamentary Bar, which might mean hundreds, nay, thousands
a-year. I imagined my children at Eton, my wife in a carriage and
pair, my address in Grosvenor Place. All I had to do to secure these
tardily-attained luxuries was to protect my clients by my careful
attention to their interests. The moment at length arrived. I rose to
cross-examine.
"And now, Sir," I said; feeling that I was master of the situation,
and that my voice had a magnificent resonance, which was striking
terror into the heart of the witness before me, _I_ am going to put a
few questions to you!"
"I beg pardon," said the Chairman, promptly--"you will do nothing of
the sort. You were not present during the _whole_ of the witness's
* * * * *
I could have wept! The momentary search for sandwiches and sherry had
ruined me! Eton and Grosvenor Place vanished together (in the carriage
and pair) for ever!
_Pump-Handle Court_. (_Signed_) A. BRIEFLESS, JUNIOR.
* * * * *