Lawsuit: Filkins against Beadle.--Squire Longbow and his
Court.--Puddleford assembled.--Why Squire Longbow was a
Great Man.--Ike Turtle and Sile Bates, Pettifoggers.--Mrs.
Sonora Brown.--Uproar and Legal Opinions.--Seth
Bolles.--Miss Eunice Grimes.--Argument to Jury, and Verdict.
My intercourse with the inhabitants of Puddleford had been frequent during
the summer, and my acquaintance with them had now become quite general. One
morning, in the month of September, I was visited by a constable, who very
authoritatively served upon me a venire, which commanded me to be and
appear before Jonathan Longbow, at his office in the village of Puddleford,
at one o'clock P. M., to serve as a juryman in a case, then and there to be
tried, between Philista Filkins, plaintiff, and Charity Beadle, defendant,
in an action of slander, etc. The constable remarked, after reading this
threatening legal epistle to me, that I had better "be up to time, as
Squire Longbow was a man who would not be trifled with," and then leisurely
folding it up, and pushing it deep down in his vest-pocket, he mounted his
horse, and hurried away in pursuit of the balance of the panel. Of course,
I could not think of being guilty of a contempt of court, after having been
so solemnly warned of the consequences, and I was therefore promptly on the
spot, according to command.
Squire Longbow held his court at the public house, in a room adjoining the
bar-room, because the statute prohibited his holding it in the bar-room
itself. He was a law-abiding man, and would not violate a statute. I found,
on my arrival, that the whole country, for miles around, had assembled to
hear this interesting case. Men, women, and children had turned out, and
made a perfect holiday of it. All were attired in their best. The men were
dressed in every kind of fashion, or, rather, all the fashions of the last
twenty years were scattered through the crowd. Small-crown, steeple-crown,
low-crown, wide-brim, and narrow-brim hats; wide-tail, stub-tail, and
swallow-tail, high-collar, and low-collar coats; bagging and shrunken
breeches; every size and shape of shirt-collar were there, all brought in
by the settlers when they immigrated. The women had attempted to ape the
fashions of the past. Some of them had mounted a "bustle" about the size of
a bag of bran, and were waddling along under their load with great
satisfaction. Some of the less ambitious were reduced to a mere bunch of
calico. One man, I noticed, carried upon his head an old-fashioned,
bell-crowned hat, with a half-inch brim, a shirt-collar running up tight
under his ears, tight enough to lift him from the ground (this ran out in
front of his face to a peak, serving as a kind of cutwater to his nose), a
faded blue coat of the genuine swallow-tail breed, a pair of narrow-fall
breeches that had passed so often through the wash-tub, and were so
shrunken, that they appeared to have been strained on over his limbs: this
individual, reader, was walking about, with his hands in his pockets,
perfectly satisfied, whistling Yankee Doodle, and other patriotic airs.
Most of the women had something frizzled around their shoes, which were
called pantalets, giving their extremities the appearance of the legs of so
many bantam hens.
The men were amusing themselves pitching coppers and quoits, running
horses, and betting upon the result of the trial to come off, as every one
was expected to form some opinion of the merits of the case.
The landlord of the Eagle was of course very busy. He bustled about, here
and there, making the necessary preparations. Several pigs and chickens had
gone the way of all flesh, and were baking and stewing for the table. About
once a quarter "Old Stub" "moistened his clay," as he called it, with a
little "rye," so as to "keep his blood a-stirring." _Mrs._ "Stub
Bulliphant" was busy too. _She_ was a perfect whirlwind; her temper was
made of tartaric acid. Her voice might be heard above the confusion around
giving directions to one, and a "piece of her mind" to another. She _was_
the landlady of the Eagle beyond all doubt, and no one else. Better die
than doubt that.
"Bulliphant!" screamed she, at the top of her lungs, "Bulliphant, you great
lout, you! what in the name of massy sakes are you about? No fire! no wood!
no water in! How, in all created natur, do you s'pose a woman can get
dinner? Furi_a_tion alive, why don't you speak? Sally Ann! I say, Sally
_Ann_! come right here this minute! Go down cellar, and get a jug of
butter, some milk, and then--I say, Sally Ann!--do you hear me, Sally
Ann?--go out to the barn and--run! run! you careless hussy, to the stove!
the pot's boiling over!"
And so the old woman's tongue ran on hour after hour.
At a little past one, the court was convened. A board placed upon two
barrels across the corner of the room, constituted the desk of Squire
Longbow, behind which his honor's solitary dignity was caged. Pettifoggers
and spectators sat outside. This was very proper, as Squire Longbow was a
great man, and some mark of distinction was due. Permit me to describe him.
He was a little, pot-bellied person, with a round face, bald head, swelled
nose, and had only one eye, the remains of the other being concealed with a
green shade. He carried a dignity about him that was really oppressive to
by-standers. He was the "end of the law" in Puddleford; and no man could
sustain a reputation who presumed to appeal from his decisions. He settled
accounts, difficulties of all sorts, and even established land-titles; but
of all things, he prided himself upon his knowledge of constitutional
questions. The Squire always maintained that hard drinking was "agin" the
Constitution of the United States, "and so," he said, "Judge Story once
informed him by letter when he applied to him for aid in solving this
question." "There is no such thing as slander," the Squire used to say,
"and so he had always decided, as every person who lied about another, knew
he ought not to be believed, because he _was_ lying, and therefore the
'_quar-animer_,' as the books say, is wanting." (This looked rather bad for
"Filkins's" case.) Sometimes Squire Longbow rendered judgments, sometimes
decrees, and sometimes he divided the cause between both parties. The
Squire said he "never could submit to the letter of the law; it was agin'
personal liberty; and so Judge Story decided." "Pre-_ce_-dents", as they
were called, he wouldn't mind, not even his own; because then there
wouldn't be any room left for a man to change his mind. "If," said the
Squire, "for instance, I fine Pet. Sykes to-day for knocking down Job
Bluff, that is no reason why I should fine Job Bluff to-morrow for knocking
down Pet. Sykes, because they are entirely different persons. Human natur'
ain't the same." "Contempt of court," the Squire often declared, "was the
worst of all offences. He didn't care so much about what might be said
agin' Jonathan Longbow, but _Squire_ Longbow, Justice of the Peace, must
and should be protected;" and it was upon this principle that he fined
Phil. Beardsley ten dollars for contradicting him in the street.
"Generally," the Squire says, "he renders judgment for the plaintiff,"
because he never issues a process without hearing his story, and
determining the merits. "And don't the plaintiff know more about his rights
than all the witnesses in the world?" "And even where he has a jury," the
Squire says, "that it is his duty to apply the law to the facts, and the
facts to the law, so that they may avoid any illegal verdict."
The court, as I said, was convened. The Squire took his seat, opened his
docket, and lit his pipe. He then called the parties:--
"Philista Filkins!" "Charity Beadle!"
"Here," cried a backwoods pettifogger, "I'm for Philista Filkins; am always
on hand at the tap of the drum, like a thousand of brick."
This man was a character; a pure specimen of a live western pettifogger. He
was called Ike Turtle. He was of the snapping-turtle breed. He wore a white
wool-hat; a bandana cotton-handkerchief around his neck; a horse-blanket
vest, with large horn-buttons; and corduroy pantaloons; and he carried a
bull's-eye watch, from which swung four or five chains across his breast.
"Who answers for Charity Beadle?" continued the Squire.
"I answer for myself," squeaked out Charity; "I hain't got any counsel,
'cause he's on the jury."
"On the jury, ha! Your counsel's on the jury! Sile Bates, I suppose.
Counsel is guaranteed by the Constitution--it's a personal right--let Sile
act as your counsel, then."
And so Sile stepped out in the capacity of counsel.
"Charity Beadle!" exclaimed the Squire, drawing out his pipe and laying it
on his desk, "stand up and raise your right hand!"
Charity arose.
"You are charged with slandering Philista Filkins, with saying, 'She warn't
no better than she ought to be;' and if you were believed when you said so,
it is my duty, as a peace-officer, to say to you that you have been guilty
of a high offence, and may the Lord have mercy on your soul. What do you
say?"
"Not guilty, Squire Longbow, by an eternal sight, and told the truth, if we
are," replied Bates. "Besides, we plead a set-off."
"I say 'tis false! you are!" cried Philista, at the top of her lungs.
"Silence!" roared Longbow; "the dignity of this court shall be preserved."
"Easy, Squire, a little easy," grumbled a voice in the crowd, proceeding
from one of Philista's friends; "never speak to a woman in a passion."
"I fine that man one dollar for contempt of court, who_ever_ he is!"
exclaimed the Squire, as he stood upon tiptoe, trying to catch the offender
with his eye.
"I guess 'twarn't nothing but the wind," said Bates.
The Squire took his seat, put his pipe in his mouth, and blew out a long
whiff of smoke.
"Order being restored, let the case now proceed," he exclaimed.
Ike opened his case to the jury. He said Philista Filkins was a maiden lady
of about forty; some called her an _old_ maid, but that warn't so, not by
several years; her teeth were as sound as a nut, and her hair as black as a
crow. She was a nurse, and had probably given more lobelia, pennyroyal,
catnip, and other roots and herbs, to the people of Puddleford, than all
the rest of the women in it. Of course she was a kind of _peramrulary_
being. (The Squire here informed the jury that _peramrulary_ was a legal
word, which he would fully explain in his charge.) That is, she was obliged
to be out a great deal, night and day, and in consequence thereof, Charity
Beadle had slandered her, and completely ruined her reputation, and broken
up her business to the damage of ten dollars.
Bates told the court that he had "no jurisdiction in an action of slander."
Longbow advised Bates not to repeat the remark, as "that was a kind of
contempt."
Some time had elapsed in settling preliminaries, and at last the cause was
ready.
"We call Sonora Brown!" roared out Ike, at the top of his lungs.
"No, you don't," replied the Squire. "This court is adjourned for fifteen
minutes; all who need refreshment will find it at the bar in the next room;
but don't bring it in here; it might be agin' the statute."
And so the court adjourned for fifteen minutes.
There was a rush to the bar-room, and old Stub Bulliphant rolled around
among his whiskey bottles like a ship in a storm. Almost every person drank
some, judging from the remarks, "to wet their whistle;" others, "to keep
their stomach easy;" some "to Filkins;" others, "to Beadle," etc., etc.
Court was at last convened again.
"Sonora Brown!" roared Ike again.
"Object!" exclaimed Sile; "no witness; hain't lived six months in the
state."
Squire Longbow slowly drew his pipe from his mouth, and fixed his eyes on
the floor in deep thought for several minutes.
"Hain't lived six months in the state," repeated he, at last; "ain't no
resident, of course, under our Constitution."
"And how, in all created airth, would you punish such a person for perjury?
I should just like to know," continued Sile, taking courage from the
Squire's perplexed state of mind; "our laws don't bind residents of other
states."
"But it isn't certain Mrs. Brown will lie, because she is a non-resident,"
added the Squire, cheering up a little.
"Well, very well, then," said Sile, ramming both hands into his
breeches-pocket very philosophically; "go ahead, if you wish, subject to my
objection. I'll just appeal, and blow this court into fiddle-strings! This
cause won't breathe three times in the circuit! We won't be rode over; we
know our rights, I just kinder rather think."
"Go it, Sile!" cried a voice from the crowd; "stand up for your rights, if
you bust!"
"Silence!" exclaimed Squire Longbow.
Ike had sat very quietly, inasmuch as the Squire had been leaning in his
favor; but Sile's last remark somewhat intimidated his honor.
"May it please your honor," said Ike, rising, "we claim there is no proof
of Mrs. Brown's residency; your honor hain't got nothing but Sile Bates's
say so, and what's that good for in a court of justice? I wouldn't believe
him as far as you could swing a cat by the tail."
"I'm with you on that," cried another voice.
"Silence! put that man out!" roared Longbow again.
But just as Ike was sitting down, an inkstand was hurled at him by Sile,
which struck him on his shoulder, and scattered its contents over the
crowd. Several missiles flew back and forth; the Squire leaped over his
table, crying out at the top of his lungs,--
"In the name of the people of the State of ----, I, Jonathan Longbow,
Justice of the Peace, duly elected and qualified, do command you."
When, at last, order was restored, the counsel took their seats, and the
Squire retired into his box again.
[Illustration: THE JUSTICE'S COURT OF PUDDLEFORD.
The testimony of Sonora Brown, the witness who "didn't know anything worth
tellin' on:" and who "warn't used to lawsuits, and didn't know how to
swear."--Page 42.]
Sonora Brown was then called for the third time. She was an old lady, with
a pinched-up black bonnet, a very wide ruffle to her cap, through which the
gray hairs strayed. She sighed frequently and heavily. She said she didn't
know as she knew "anything worth telling on." She didn't know "anything
about lawsuits, and didn't know how to swear." After running on with a long
preliminary about herself, growing warmer and warmer, the old lady came to
the case under much excitement. She said "she never did see such works in
all her born days. Just because Charity Beadle said 'Philista Filkins
warn't no better than she ought to be,' there was _such_ a hullabalu and
kick-up, enough to set all natur crazy!"
"Why la! sus me!" continued she, turning round to the Squire, "do _you_
think this such a dre'ful thing, that all the whole town has got to be set
together by the ears about it? Mude-_ra_-tion! what a humdrum and flurry!"
And then the old lady stopped and took a pinch of snuff, and pushed it up
very hard and quick into her nose.
Ike requested Mrs. Brown not to talk so fast, and only answer such
questions as he put to her.
"Well, now, that's nice," she continued. "Warn't I sworn, or was't you? and
to tell the truth, too, and the _whole_ truth. I warn't sworn to answer
your questions. Why, maybe, you don't know, Mr. Pettifogger, that there are
folks in state's prison _now_ for lying in a court of justice?"
Squire Longbow interfered, and stated that "he must say that things were
going on very 'promis'cusly,' quite agin the peace and dignity of the
state."
"Just so I think myself," added Mrs. Brown. "This place is like a
town-meeting, for all the world."
"Mrs. So-_no_-ra Brown!" exclaimed Ike, rising on his feet, a little
enraged, "do you know anything about what Charity Beadle said about
Philista Filkins? Answer _this_ question."
"Whew! fiddle-de-dee! highty-tighty! so you have really broke loose, Mr.
Pettifogger," for now the old lady's temper _was_ up. "Why, didn't you know
I was old enough to be your grandmother? Why, my boy," continued she,
hurrying on her spectacles, and taking a long look at Ike, "I know'd your
mother when she made cakes and pies down in the _Jar_seys; and _you_ when
you warn't more than _so_ high;" and she measured about two feet high from
the floor. "You want me to _answer_, do you? I told you all I know'd about
it; and if you want anything more, I guess you'll have to get it, that's
all;" and, jumping up, she left the witness-stand, and disappeared in the
crowd.
"I demand an attachment for Sonora Brown!" roared out Ike, "an absconding
witness!"
"Can't do it," replied the Squire; "it's agin the Constitution to deprive
anybody of their liberty an unreasonable length of time. This witness has
been confined here by process of law morn-a-nour. Can't do it! Be guilty of
trespass! Must stick to the Constitution. Call your next witness."
Ike swore. The Squire fined him one dollar. He swore again. The Squire
fined him another. The faster the Squire fined, the faster the oaths rolled
out of Ike's mouth, until the Squire had entered ten dollars against him.
Ike swore again, and the Squire was about to record the _eleventh_ dollar,
but Ike checked him.
"Hold on! hold on! you _old reprobate_! now I've got you! now you are
mine!" exclaimed he. "You are up to the limit of the law! You cannot
inflict only ten dollars in fines in any one case! Now stand and take it!"
And such a volley of oaths, cant phrases, humor, wrath, sarcasm, and fun,
sometimes addressed to the Squire, sometimes to the audience, and sometimes
to his client, never rolled out of any other man's mouth since the flood.
He commenced with the history of the Squire, when, as he said, "he was _a_
rafting lumber down on the Susque_hanna_;" and he followed him up from that
time. "He _could_ tell the reason why he came west, but wouldn't." He
commented on his personal appearance, and his capacity for the office of
justice. He told him "he hadn't only one eye, any way, and he couldn't be
expected to see a great way into a mill-stone; and he didn't believe he had
as many brains as an 'ister. For his part, _he_ knew the law; he had
ransacked every part of the statute, as a glutton would Noah's Ark for the
remnant of an eel; he had digested it from Dan to Beersheba; swallowed
everything but the title-page and cover, and would have swallowed that if
he warn't mortal; he was a living, moving law himself; when he said 'law
_was_ law, _'twas_ law;' better 'peal anything up from predestination than
from his opinion! he would follow this case to the backside of sundown for
his rights!"
During all this time there was a complete uproar. Philista's friends
cheered and hurrahed; the dogs in the room set up their barking; Beadle's
friends groaned, and squealed, and bellowed, and whimpered, and imitated
all the domestic animals of the day, while the Squire was trying at the top
of his lungs to compel the constable to commit Ike for contempt.
Ike closed and sat down. The Squire called for the constable, but he was
not to be found. One man told him that "he was in the next room pitching
coppers;" another, that the last time he saw him "he was running very
fast;" another, that "he rather guessed he'd be back some time another, if
he ever was, because he was a sworn officer;" another asked the Squire
"what he'd give to have him _catched_?" but no constable appeared; he had
put himself out the way to escape the storm.
A long silence followed this outburst; not a word was said, and scarcely a
noise heard. Every one was eagerly looking at the Squire for his next
movement. Ike kept his eyes on the floor, apparently in a deep study. At
last he arose.
"Squire," said he, "we've been under something of a press of steam for the
last half 'our; I move we adjourn fifteen minutes for a drink."
"Done," answered the Squire; and so the court adjourned for a second time.
It was now nearly dark, when the court convened again. The trial of the
cause, Filkins _vs._ Beadle, was resumed.
Seth Bolles was called. Seth was a broad-backed, double-fisted fellow, with
a blazing red face, and he chewed tobacco continually. He was about two
thirds "over the bay," and didn't care for all the Filkinses or Beadles in
the world.
"Know Filkins and Beadle?" inquired Ike.
"Know 'em? thunder, yes."
"How long?"
"Ever sin' the year one."
"Ever heard Beadle say anything about Filkins?"
"Heard her say she thought she run'd too much arter Elik Timberlake."
"Anything, Seth, about Filkins' character?"
"Now what do you 'spose I know about Filkins' character? Much as I can do
to look arter my own wimmin."
"But have you heard _Beadle say_ anything about Filkins' character?"
"Heard her say once she was a good enough-er-sort-a body when she was
a-mind-er-be."
"Anything else?"
"Shan't answer; hain't had my regular fees paid as witness."
Squire Longbow informed Seth that he must answer.
"Shan't do it, not so long as my name is Bolles."
The Squire said he would commit him.
"W-h-e-w!" drawled out Bolles, stooping down, and putting his arms a-kimbo,
as he gave the Squire a long look straight in the eye.
"Order! order!" exclaimed the Squire.
"Whew! whew! whew _uo-uo-uo_! who's afraid of a justice of the peace?"
screamed Seth, jumping up about a foot, and squirting out a gill of
tobacco-juice, as he struck the floor.
Seth's fees were paid him, at last, and the question was again put, if he
heard "Beadle say anything else?" and he said "_he never did_;" and thus
ended Seth's testimony.
Miss Eunice Grimes was next called. She came sailing forward, and threw
herself into the chair with a kind of jerk. She took a few sidelong glances
at Charity Beadle, which told, plainly enough, that she meant to make a
finish of her in about five minutes. She was a vinegar-faced old maid, and
her head kept bobbing, and her body kept hitching, and now she pulled her
bonnet this way, and now that. She finally went out of the fretting into
the languishing mood, and declared she "_should_ die if somebody didn't get
her a glass of water."
When she became composed, Ike inquired if "she knew Charity Beadle?"
"Yes! I know her to be an orful critter!"
"What has she done?"
"What hain't she? She's lied about me, and about Elder Dobbin's folks, and
said how that when the singing-master boarded at our house, she seed lights
in the sitting-room till past three--the orful critter!"
"But what have you heard her say about Philista Filkins?"
"O! everything that's bad. She don't never say anything that's good 'bout
nobody. She's allers talking. There ain't nobody in the settlement she
hain't slandered. She even abused old Deacon Snipes' horse--the orful
critter!"
"But what did she say about _Philista Filkins_?" repeated Ike again.
"What do you want me to say she said? I hain't got any doubt she's called
her everything she could think on. Didn't she, Philist_y_?" she continued,
turning her head towards the plaintiff.
Philista nodded.
"Did she say she warn't no better than she ought to be?"
"Did she? well, she did, and that very few people were."
"Stop! stop!" exclaimed Ike, "you talk too fast! I guess she didn't say
_all_ that."
"She did, for Philista told me so; and she wouldn't lie for the whole race
of Beadles."
Squire Longbow thought Eunice had better retire, as she didn't seem to know
much about the case.
She said she knew as much about it as anybody; she want "going to be
abused, trod upon; and no man was a man that would insult a poor woman;"
and bursting into tears of rage, she twitched out of her chair, and went
sobbing away.
Philista closed, and Sile stated, in his opening to the court on the part
of the defence, that this was a "_little_ the smallest case he ever _had_
seen." His client stood out high and dry; she stood up like Andes looking
down on a potato-hill; he didn't propose to offer scarcely any proof; and
that little was by way of set-off--tongue against tongue--according to the
statute in such case made and provided; he hoped the court would examine
the law for himself. (Here Sile unrolled a long account against Philista,
measuring some three feet, and held it up to the Squire and jury.) This, he
said, was a reg'lar statement of the slanderous words used by Philista
Filkins agin Charity Beadle for the last three years, with the damage
annexed; everything had been itemized, and kept in tip-top style; all in
black and white, just as it happened. Sile was about reading this
formidable instrument, when Ike objected.
"That can't be _did_ in this 'ere court!" exclaimed Ike; "the light of
civilization has shed itself a little _too_ thick for _that_. This court
might just as well try to swallow a chestnut-burr, or a cat, tail foremost,
as to get such a proposition a-down its throat."
Squire Longbow said he'd "never heer'd of such law--yet the question was
new to him."
"Laid down in all the law-books of the nineteenth century!" exclaimed Sile,
"and never heard on't!"
"Never did."
"Why," continued Sile, "the statute allows set-off where it is of the same
natur of the action. This, you see, is slander agin slander."
"True," replied the Squire.
"True, did you say!" exclaimed Ike. "_You_ say the statute _does_ allow
slander to be set off; _our_ statute--that statute that I learned by heart
before I knew my A B C's--you old bass-wood headed son--" But the Squire
stopped Ike just at this time. "We will decide the question first," he
said. "The court have made no decision yet."
Squire Longbow was in trouble. He smoked furiously. He examined the
statutes, looked over his docket, but he did not seem to get any light.
Finally, a lucky thought struck him. He saw old Mr. Brown in the crowd, who
had the reputation of having once been a justice in the State of New York.
The Squire arose and beckoned to him, and both retired to an adjoining
room. After about a half an hour, the Squire returned and took his seat,
and delivered his opinion. Here it is:--
"After an examination of all the p'ints both for and agin the 'lowing of
the set-off, in which the court didn't leave no stone unturned to get at
justice, having ransacked some half a dozen books from eend to eend, and
noted down everything that anywise bore on the subject; recollecting, as
the court well doz, what the great Story, who's now dead and gone, done and
writ 'bout this very thing (for we must be 'lowed to inform this 'sembly
that we read Story in our juvenil' years); having done this, and refreshing
_our_ minds with the testimony, and keeping in our eye the rights of
parties--right-er liberty, and right-er speech, back'ards and for'ards--for
I've as good a right to talk agin you, as you have to talk agin
me--knowing, as the court doz, how much blood has been shed 'cause folks
wern't 'lowed to talk as much as they pleased, making all natur groan, the
court is of the opinion that the set-off must be let in; and such is also
Squire Brown's opinion, and nobody will contradict that, _I know_."
"Je-_hos_-a-phat!" groaned out Ike, drawing one of his very longest
breaths. "The _great_ Je-_mi_-ma Wilkinson! and so that _is_ law, arter
all! There's my hat, Squire," Ike continued, as he arose and reached it out
to him; "and you shall have my _gallusses_ as soon as I can get at 'em."
The Squire said "the dignity of the court must be preserved."
"Of course it must! of course it must!" replied Ike, who was growing very
philosophical over the opinion of the Squire; "there ain't no friction on
my gudgeons _now_; I always gins in to reg'lar opinions, delivered upon
consideration; I was just thinking, though, Squire, that as their bill is
so much the longest, and as the parties are both here, Charity had better
let her tongue loose upon my client, and take out the balance on the spot."
The Squire said "the cause must go on." Sile read his set-off, made up of
slanderous words alleged to have been used; damages fifty dollars; and
calling Charity herself, upon the principle, as he said, "that it was a
book-account, and her books were evidence; and her books having been lost,
the paper which he held, and which was a true copy--_for he made it out
himself_--was the next best evidence; all of which Charity would swear to
straight along."
The court admitted Charity, and she swore the set-off through, and some
fifty dollars more; and she was going on horse-race speed, when Sile
stopped her "before," as he told her, "she swore the cause beyond the
jurisdiction of a magistrate."
Here the evidence closed. Midnight had set in, and the cause was yet to be
summed up.
The court informed Ike and Sile that they were limited to half an hour
each.
Ike opened the argument, and _such_ an opening, and _such_ an argument! It
will not be expected that I can repeat it. There never lived a man who
could. It covered all things mortal and immortal. Genius, and sense, and
nonsense; wit, humor, pathos, venom, and vulgarity, were all piled up
together, and belched forth upon the jury. He talked about the case, the
court, the jury, his client, the history of the world, and Puddleford in
particular. "The slander was admitted," he declared, "because the defendant
had tried to set off something _agin_ it; and if his client didn't get a
judgment, he'd make a rattling among the dry bones of the law, that would
rouse the dead of '76!" He was "fifty feet front, and rear to the river;"
"had seen great changes en the t'restial globe;" "know'd all the sciences
from Neb-u-_cud_-nezzar down;" "know'd law--'twas the milk of his
existence." As to the court's opinion about the set-off, "his head was
chock full of cobwebs or bumble-bees, he didn't know which;" "his judgment
warn't hardly safe on a common note er-hand;" "he'd no doubt but that three
jist such cases would run him stark mad;" "Natur was sorry she'd ever had
anything to do with him; and he'd himself been sorry ever since; and as for
ed'cation, he warn't up to the school-marm, for she _could_ read;" "the
jury had better give him a verdict if they didn't want the nightmare." And
thus he was running on, when his half hour expired, but he could not be
stopped--as well stop a tornado. So Sile arose, and commenced his argument
for the defendant; and at it both labored, Ike for plaintiff, Sile for
defendant, until the court swore a constable, and ordered the jury to
retire with him, the argument still going on; and thus the jury left the
room, Ike and Sile following them up, laying down the law and the fact; and
the last thing I observed just before the door closed, was Ike's arm run
through it at us, going through a variety of gestures, his expiring effort
in behalf of his client.
After a long deliberation among the jurors, during which almost everything
was discussed but the evidence, it was announced by our foreman, on "coming
in," that "we could not agree, four on 'em being for fifty dollars for the
defendant 'cording to law, and one on 'em for no cause of action (myself),
and he stood out, 'cause he was a-feared, or wanted to be pop'lar with
somebody."
And thus ended the trial between Filkins and Beadle.