I need not tell men of any profession, that there are those, even in the
respectable walks of life, who will watch their opportunity to button-hole
the lawyer or the doctor, in the public streets, to "just ask him a
question," rather than call at his office, where a fee would certainly be
a just compensation for the expected advice.
One of these highway robbers once overtook Mr. Choate, the great Boston
lawyer, on a public street, and asked him if he should sue Mr. Jones, so
and so, briefly stating his case, if he, the lawyer, thought he, Smith,
would win the suit.
"O, yes," replied the great lawyer; and Smith went on his way rejoicing.
The case went to trial, Smith _vs._ Jones. Smith employed a cheap
pettifogger. Jones employed Mr. Choate to defend him, and gained the suit.
"Didn't you tell me I had a good case?" demanded the irascible plaintiff
of Mr. Choate, when he found that the case had gone against him.
"Well, I think you did say something to me about it," replied Mr. Choate,
very indifferently.
"Yes, and didn't you advise me to sue him?" cried the infuriated Smith.
"Let me see, Mr. Smith: how much did you pay me for that advice?"
"Nothing, sir! nothing!" roared Smith.
"Well, that was all it was worth," remarked Mr. Choate, quietly.
Another of these free advice fellows detained the author at the
post-office last week, and very patronizingly asked,--
"What would you take for a code id de ed, docdor?"
"Take? take two pocket handkerchiefs," was the cheap prescription for a
cheap patient.