Prisoner brought before chaplainThe Ruling Passion.—Prison Chaplain (charged to report on convict’s religious knowledge).“Do you know the Commandments?”Prisoner.“Yes, Sir.”Prison Chaplain.“Say the eighth.”Prisoner (promptly).“Thou shalt do no manner of work; thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter.” &c.
The Ruling Passion.—Prison Chaplain (charged to report on convict’s religious knowledge).“Do you know the Commandments?”
Prisoner.“Yes, Sir.”
Prison Chaplain.“Say the eighth.”
Prisoner (promptly).“Thou shalt do no manner of work; thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter.” &c.
Habes Confitentem Reum.—Suitors write to the papers to complain of the “block in Chancery.” Who but a block (we must ask)wouldbe in Chancery?
The Thief’s Motto.—“Take things quietly.”
Spring Assizes.—Trying weather.
Query.—Would an ideal barrister be a counsel of perfection?
A Proverb Revised.—Too many cooks spoil the—police.
Saying of Solicitors.—November is at best a pettifogger.
An Equity Draftsman.—A lawyer who sketches.
A ridiculous garbImproved costume for the Metropolitan Police during the great heat of 1893.
Improved costume for the Metropolitan Police during the great heat of 1893.
THE LAWYER.
Spinster of the Saxon beauty,At the Grainthorpe Manor mill,Of this heart you’ve had possessionSince I made my uncle’s will:Yours the image all engrossingWhen I try to read reports,You, my Amy, am I drawing,Even in the Chancery Courts.Ah! that brow as smooth as—vellum—Ah! those lips vermilion red—Kisses wherewith I have sealed themNo one ever witnessèd:I would sue the man who venturedTo deny you dressed with taste,I would tax his costs who hintedAn “impeachment” of your waist.Soon the long vacation’s coming,Soon the weary term will end;No more writs and affidavits,No more actions to defend:I shall take the first conveyance—Train at fivep.m.—express—I shall count the sluggish moments—Forty minutes, more or less.Meet me, cousin, at the stationWith the trap that’s duty free,It can take my rods and gun-case,We will walk,procheinAmy,Past the glebe and old inclosure,Past the deeply mortgaged inn,On to where the freeholds finishAnd the copyholds begin.There I’ll make my declaration,There I’ll pause and plead my suit;Do not let it be “in error,”Do not be of malice mute;But “surrender” to your cousinIn the customary way,And become the donee, dearest;Of an opalnegligée.I’ve a messuage—recent purchase—Sixty-eight in Mortmayne Row,Title good, and unencumbered,Gas and water laid below;Come and share it, undisputedOwner of this heart in fee,Come and be my junior partner,And in time we both may see,Girls, fair copies of their mother,Boys, the counterpart of me.
Spinster of the Saxon beauty,At the Grainthorpe Manor mill,Of this heart you’ve had possessionSince I made my uncle’s will:Yours the image all engrossingWhen I try to read reports,You, my Amy, am I drawing,Even in the Chancery Courts.Ah! that brow as smooth as—vellum—Ah! those lips vermilion red—Kisses wherewith I have sealed themNo one ever witnessèd:I would sue the man who venturedTo deny you dressed with taste,I would tax his costs who hintedAn “impeachment” of your waist.Soon the long vacation’s coming,Soon the weary term will end;No more writs and affidavits,No more actions to defend:I shall take the first conveyance—Train at fivep.m.—express—I shall count the sluggish moments—Forty minutes, more or less.Meet me, cousin, at the stationWith the trap that’s duty free,It can take my rods and gun-case,We will walk,procheinAmy,Past the glebe and old inclosure,Past the deeply mortgaged inn,On to where the freeholds finishAnd the copyholds begin.There I’ll make my declaration,There I’ll pause and plead my suit;Do not let it be “in error,”Do not be of malice mute;But “surrender” to your cousinIn the customary way,And become the donee, dearest;Of an opalnegligée.I’ve a messuage—recent purchase—Sixty-eight in Mortmayne Row,Title good, and unencumbered,Gas and water laid below;Come and share it, undisputedOwner of this heart in fee,Come and be my junior partner,And in time we both may see,Girls, fair copies of their mother,Boys, the counterpart of me.
Spinster of the Saxon beauty,At the Grainthorpe Manor mill,Of this heart you’ve had possessionSince I made my uncle’s will:Yours the image all engrossingWhen I try to read reports,You, my Amy, am I drawing,Even in the Chancery Courts.
Spinster of the Saxon beauty,
At the Grainthorpe Manor mill,
Of this heart you’ve had possession
Since I made my uncle’s will:
Yours the image all engrossing
When I try to read reports,
You, my Amy, am I drawing,
Even in the Chancery Courts.
Ah! that brow as smooth as—vellum—Ah! those lips vermilion red—Kisses wherewith I have sealed themNo one ever witnessèd:I would sue the man who venturedTo deny you dressed with taste,I would tax his costs who hintedAn “impeachment” of your waist.
Ah! that brow as smooth as—vellum—
Ah! those lips vermilion red—
Kisses wherewith I have sealed them
No one ever witnessèd:
I would sue the man who ventured
To deny you dressed with taste,
I would tax his costs who hinted
An “impeachment” of your waist.
Soon the long vacation’s coming,Soon the weary term will end;No more writs and affidavits,No more actions to defend:I shall take the first conveyance—Train at fivep.m.—express—I shall count the sluggish moments—Forty minutes, more or less.
Soon the long vacation’s coming,
Soon the weary term will end;
No more writs and affidavits,
No more actions to defend:
I shall take the first conveyance—
Train at fivep.m.—express—
I shall count the sluggish moments—
Forty minutes, more or less.
Meet me, cousin, at the stationWith the trap that’s duty free,It can take my rods and gun-case,We will walk,procheinAmy,Past the glebe and old inclosure,Past the deeply mortgaged inn,On to where the freeholds finishAnd the copyholds begin.
Meet me, cousin, at the station
With the trap that’s duty free,
It can take my rods and gun-case,
We will walk,procheinAmy,
Past the glebe and old inclosure,
Past the deeply mortgaged inn,
On to where the freeholds finish
And the copyholds begin.
There I’ll make my declaration,There I’ll pause and plead my suit;Do not let it be “in error,”Do not be of malice mute;But “surrender” to your cousinIn the customary way,And become the donee, dearest;Of an opalnegligée.
There I’ll make my declaration,
There I’ll pause and plead my suit;
Do not let it be “in error,”
Do not be of malice mute;
But “surrender” to your cousin
In the customary way,
And become the donee, dearest;
Of an opalnegligée.
I’ve a messuage—recent purchase—Sixty-eight in Mortmayne Row,Title good, and unencumbered,Gas and water laid below;Come and share it, undisputedOwner of this heart in fee,Come and be my junior partner,And in time we both may see,Girls, fair copies of their mother,Boys, the counterpart of me.
I’ve a messuage—recent purchase—
Sixty-eight in Mortmayne Row,
Title good, and unencumbered,
Gas and water laid below;
Come and share it, undisputed
Owner of this heart in fee,
Come and be my junior partner,
And in time we both may see,
Girls, fair copies of their mother,
Boys, the counterpart of me.
Prisoner in the dock“A CLEAN BREAST OF IT”The Magistrate.“Oh!—you admit making counterfeit money then?”Prisoner (airily).“Well, the fact is, your washup, the supply o’ the genuine article is so extremely limited, and things generally are so very tight commercially, that a poor fellow must do something these times to turn an honest penny!”
“A CLEAN BREAST OF IT”
The Magistrate.“Oh!—you admit making counterfeit money then?”
Prisoner (airily).“Well, the fact is, your washup, the supply o’ the genuine article is so extremely limited, and things generally are so very tight commercially, that a poor fellow must do something these times to turn an honest penny!”
“Brief let it be”—as the barrister said in his conference with the attorney.
Woman exiting police station into a hackney carriageDignity under Difficulties.—Puffec’ Lidy (retiring from the public gaze for the 150th time).“Home, John!”
Dignity under Difficulties.—Puffec’ Lidy (retiring from the public gaze for the 150th time).“Home, John!”
(Suggestions for alteration and adaptation to Modern Manners and Customs, after the Jackson decision by the Court of Appeal.)
Common Law.—“The tradition of ages shall prevail,” save when it runs counter to the opinions of a leader-writer of a daily-paper.
Equity.—(1.) “No right shall be without a remedy,” save when it is sentimentally suggested that somebody’s right may be somebody else’s wrong.
(2.) “Equity follows the law,” at such a distance that it never comes up with it.
(3.) “Equity is equality,” save when a man’s wife is literally his better half.
(4.) “Where there is equal equity the law must prevail,” in any view it pleases to take at the instance of the Lord Chancellor for the time being.
(5.) “Where the equities are equal the law prevails,” in any course it likes to pursue.
(6.) “Equity looks upon that as done which is agreed to be done,” especially when, after obtaining legal relief, the suitor ultimately finds himself sold.
Contracts.—(1.) “All contracts are construed according to the intentions of the parties,” save where one of them subsequently changes his mind.
(2.) “The construction should be liberal” enough to suit the fancy of the Judge who enforces it.
(3.) “It should be favourable” to a long and angry correspondence in all the principal newspapers.
(4.) “The contract should in general be construed according to the law of the country where made,” but certainly not in particular.
(5.) “That testimony cannot be given to vary, but may to explain a written contract,” save when someone suggests that this practice shall be reversed.
(6.) “He who employs an agent does it himself,” unless it is considered advisable to take an opposite view of the matter.
Parent and Child.—“A father shall have the custody of his children,” except when they get beyond his control and defy his authority.
Landlord and Tenant.—“A landlord has a right to receive his rent,” if the tenant does not spend the money on something else.
Husband and Wife.—“A man has a right to the society of his wife,” when she does not prefer to give her company elsewhere.
Birthright of an Englishman.(Popular traditionally, but strictly speaking supplementary.)—“An Englishman’s house is his castle,” but only thepied à terreof the lawfully wedded sharer of his income.
Old Father Antic.
Lawyers wheeling baby-carriages
Artful Dodger and Charley Bates talking about the director awaiting examinationAt the Head of the Profession.—Scene:Prisoners’ waiting room adjoining police-court. (Eminently respectable director awaiting examination.)Artful Dodger (to Charley Bates).“You’ve been copped for a till—and me for a cly. But ’e’s been copped for a bank—shared somethin’ like six million swag among the lot!”Charley Bates (in a tone of respectful admiration).“Lor!”
At the Head of the Profession.—Scene:Prisoners’ waiting room adjoining police-court. (Eminently respectable director awaiting examination.)
Artful Dodger (to Charley Bates).“You’ve been copped for a till—and me for a cly. But ’e’s been copped for a bank—shared somethin’ like six million swag among the lot!”
Charley Bates (in a tone of respectful admiration).“Lor!”
Policeman, directing“On there! Pass along!” (Exeunt.)Antony and Cleopatra, Act III., Sc. 1.We scoff at savages who bow down before strange idols, yet we invariably “worship” the bench.“It is very odd,” said Serjeant Channell to Thessiger, “that Tindal should have decided against me on that point of law which, to me, seemed as plain as A B C.” “Yes,” replied Thessiger, “but of what use is it that it should have been A B C to you, if the judge was determined to be D E F to it?”A Thought in the Divorce Court.—There is a wide difference between the judge ordinary and an ordinary judge.
Policeman, directing“On there! Pass along!” (Exeunt.)Antony and Cleopatra, Act III., Sc. 1.
“On there! Pass along!” (Exeunt.)Antony and Cleopatra, Act III., Sc. 1.
We scoff at savages who bow down before strange idols, yet we invariably “worship” the bench.“It is very odd,” said Serjeant Channell to Thessiger, “that Tindal should have decided against me on that point of law which, to me, seemed as plain as A B C.” “Yes,” replied Thessiger, “but of what use is it that it should have been A B C to you, if the judge was determined to be D E F to it?”A Thought in the Divorce Court.—There is a wide difference between the judge ordinary and an ordinary judge.
We scoff at savages who bow down before strange idols, yet we invariably “worship” the bench.
“It is very odd,” said Serjeant Channell to Thessiger, “that Tindal should have decided against me on that point of law which, to me, seemed as plain as A B C.” “Yes,” replied Thessiger, “but of what use is it that it should have been A B C to you, if the judge was determined to be D E F to it?”
A Thought in the Divorce Court.—There is a wide difference between the judge ordinary and an ordinary judge.
Prospectus
(Private and Confidential)
Nightwatchman“Doom’d for a certain term to walk the night.”—Hamlet, Act I., Sc. 5.
“Doom’d for a certain term to walk the night.”—Hamlet, Act I., Sc. 5.
It being considered in accordance with the spirit of the age, the march of intellect, and the principles of progress, that those persons who are unfortunate enough to come under the unfavourable notice of tribunals established in unenlightened times, should be enabled to avail themselves of systematic arrangements for defeating the coarse and selfish tyranny of the many, an association is in course of formation with the following objects:—
To defend, in the best and most costly manner, all persons who, being assured in the projected society, shall be afflicted by prosecutions.
To supply, with the aid of practised writers, sensation articles to such newspapers as can be induced to accept them, such articles being framed in favour of convicted persons, and designed to produce a popular impression in their favour, by attacking the witnesses against them, vilifying hostile counsel, and ridiculing jurymen.
To procure other articles, in a graver tone, in which every mistake previously made by what is called justice shall be held up as an awful warning, and in which intimidation shall be freely directed against judges, Home Secretaries, and all who are charged with carrying the laws into effect.
To collect, after verdicts have been given, every kind of gossip, rumour, or invention that can discredit the case for the prosecution, and to circulate such things as largely as possible by means of the Press.
Sailor trying to wind a grandfather clockA salt and battery
A salt and battery
To get up petitions in favour of the convicted persons, some of such petitions to be framed so as to command the approbation of those who object to the special form of punishment that may have been awarded, and without reference to the innocence or guilt of the convicted parties.
It is believed, and experience warrants the belief, that by the irregular use of these and similar means a criminal trial will speedily be deprived of its antiquated solemnity and terror, and that the odds in favour of the ultimate escape of the assured will be very heavy indeed.
To the objection of the prejudiced, that such a system is unconstitutional, and tends to the subversion of the rules by which society is now protected, the promoters would reply, that the march of intellect, the spirit of the age, and the principles of progress, render such a cavil futile in the extremest degree.
A more detailed prospectus will speedily be issued with assurance tables prepared for the information of those who, with a wise forethought, look forward to their probably coming into collision with conventional arrangements, but who, owing to the uncertainties of life, may not be aware whether such collision will be occasioned by murder, manslaughter, burglary, highway robbery, garrotting, embezzlement, theft, or any other departure from ordinary rules. The rates will be carefully calculated, and brought within the means of all.
Further information may be obtained either of Jonathan Wild, Esq., Solicitor, Field Lane; or of Messrs. Alibi, Dodge, & Crammer, Private Inquiry Office, Spy Corner, Dirtcheap.
Old lady puts a penny into the slot, automated policeman's arm extends to block the roadwayTHE AUTOMATIC POLICEMANPut a penny in the slot, and he stops the traffic.
THE AUTOMATIC POLICEMAN
Put a penny in the slot, and he stops the traffic.
Woman in the witness boxCANDIDCounsel.“Why are you so very precise in your statement? Are you afraid of telling an untruth?”Witness (promptly).“No, sir!”
CANDID
Counsel.“Why are you so very precise in your statement? Are you afraid of telling an untruth?”
Witness (promptly).“No, sir!”
The Lawyer’s Prayer.—The learned gentleman prayed atales.
Truly Sweet.—“When I am in pecuniary difficulties,” said a pensive bankrupt, “my garden, my flowers, all fresh and sparkling in the morning, console my heart.” “Indeed!” asked his sympathising friend. “I should have thought they would remind you of your trouble, for, like your bills, they are all over dew.”
Unfair!—The overcrowded state of our law courts necessitates in almost every case a well packed jury.
Written agreements should be drawn up as shortly as possible; for parties are sure to agree best between whom there are the fewest words.
Lady and gentleman talking in the street“I hear you had an action brought against you by a man who broke his collar-bone on your doorstep. How did the case go?”“Met the same fate as he did.”“How do you mean?”“Slipped upon appeal!”
“I hear you had an action brought against you by a man who broke his collar-bone on your doorstep. How did the case go?”
“Met the same fate as he did.”
“How do you mean?”
“Slipped upon appeal!”
(A long way after “The Throstle”)
Vacation is over, vacation is over,I know it, I know it, I know it.Back to the Strand again, home to the Courts again,Come counsel and clients to go it.Welcome awaits you, High Court of Justice,Thousands will flock to you daily.“You, you, you, you.” Is it then for you,That we forget the Old Bailey?Jostling and squeezing and struggling and shoving,What else were the Courts ever made for?The Courts ’twixt the Temple and grey Lincoln’s Inn,They’re not yet entirely paid for!Now till next year, all of us cry,We’ll say (for a fee) what we’re bidden.Vacation is over, is over, hurrah!And all past sorrow is hidden.
Vacation is over, vacation is over,I know it, I know it, I know it.Back to the Strand again, home to the Courts again,Come counsel and clients to go it.Welcome awaits you, High Court of Justice,Thousands will flock to you daily.“You, you, you, you.” Is it then for you,That we forget the Old Bailey?Jostling and squeezing and struggling and shoving,What else were the Courts ever made for?The Courts ’twixt the Temple and grey Lincoln’s Inn,They’re not yet entirely paid for!Now till next year, all of us cry,We’ll say (for a fee) what we’re bidden.Vacation is over, is over, hurrah!And all past sorrow is hidden.
Vacation is over, vacation is over,I know it, I know it, I know it.Back to the Strand again, home to the Courts again,Come counsel and clients to go it.
Vacation is over, vacation is over,
I know it, I know it, I know it.
Back to the Strand again, home to the Courts again,
Come counsel and clients to go it.
Welcome awaits you, High Court of Justice,Thousands will flock to you daily.“You, you, you, you.” Is it then for you,That we forget the Old Bailey?
Welcome awaits you, High Court of Justice,
Thousands will flock to you daily.
“You, you, you, you.” Is it then for you,
That we forget the Old Bailey?
Jostling and squeezing and struggling and shoving,What else were the Courts ever made for?The Courts ’twixt the Temple and grey Lincoln’s Inn,They’re not yet entirely paid for!
Jostling and squeezing and struggling and shoving,
What else were the Courts ever made for?
The Courts ’twixt the Temple and grey Lincoln’s Inn,
They’re not yet entirely paid for!
Now till next year, all of us cry,We’ll say (for a fee) what we’re bidden.Vacation is over, is over, hurrah!And all past sorrow is hidden.
Now till next year, all of us cry,
We’ll say (for a fee) what we’re bidden.
Vacation is over, is over, hurrah!
And all past sorrow is hidden.
The Female Prerogative Court.—A woman’s will knows no codicil.
The best place for a Police-office.—Beak Street.
Criminal.—Why is a prisoner’s time like an abominable joke? Because it’s past in durance.
Parlourmaid offering Brown a bookHOW THINGS WILL OUT(The judge is not at home, and Brown, Q.C., asks permission to write him a note)Mary Elizabeth Jane.“Would you like this book, sir? Master always uses it when he writes letters!”[Heavens! it’s an English dictionary!
HOW THINGS WILL OUT
(The judge is not at home, and Brown, Q.C., asks permission to write him a note)
Mary Elizabeth Jane.“Would you like this book, sir? Master always uses it when he writes letters!”
[Heavens! it’s an English dictionary!
“Mr. Pickwick envied the facility with which Mr. Peter Magnus’ friends were amused.”—Dickens.
Scene—Any Court.Time—Any Trial.
Q. C.What sort of a night was it?
Witness.It was dark. (Laughter.)
Judge.My learned friend hardly expected the night to be light, I should think. (Laughter.)
Junior.Perhaps m’lud, the learned counsel was thinking of a nightlight. (Roars of laughter.)
Q. C.Well, we’ll take it that it was a dark night. You went out for a stroll?
Witness.No, I went for a walk.
Judge.At any rate the witness was walking about.
Witness.No, my lord, I wasn’t walking a “bout.” I was walking fast. (Great Laughter.)
Q. C.You were walking fast. Now did you see anything?
Witness.I saw the prisoner.
Q. C.Well, tell us what he was doing.
Witness.He was doing nothing. (Laughter.)
Judge.How did he do it? (Renewed Laughter.)
Witness.Very busily, my lord. (Laughter.)
Junior.Like a briefless barrister, m’lud. (Roars of laughter.)
Q. C.Did he continue to do nothing long?
Witness.No; he soon seemed to get tired of it.
Q. C.What did he do then?
Witness.He went into a public-house.
Q. C.What for?
Judge.What does my learned friend go into a public-house for? (Great Laughter.)
Q. C.Will you answer my question?
Witness.He went for some rum-shrub.
Q. C. (proud of his acquaintance with slang, and with a knowing look towards the Junior Bar).It was a very “rum plant” the prisoner was engaged on.
[Shrieks of laughter, during which the Court rose, being too convulsed to transact any further business.
Two demonstrators talkingNOTHING LIKE LOGIC(An echo of the Tichborne case)Orton Demonstrator.“I don’ care whether he’s Orton or Tishbo’n or Cashtr’ or who he is, bu’ I don’ like t’ see a po’r man kep’ out of ’s prop’ty!!”Second Orton Demonstrator.“Jesh sho!”[They retire to refresh.
NOTHING LIKE LOGIC
(An echo of the Tichborne case)
Orton Demonstrator.“I don’ care whether he’s Orton or Tishbo’n or Cashtr’ or who he is, bu’ I don’ like t’ see a po’r man kep’ out of ’s prop’ty!!”
Second Orton Demonstrator.“Jesh sho!”
[They retire to refresh.
No Costs.—If you want to enjoy the luxury of law for nothing, all you have to do is to prosecute an inquiry.
Group of urchins accosting a lawyerTHE LAST SELL“Oh sir, please sir, is this Chancery Lane!”“It is.”“Ah! I knowed it was!”“Then why did you ask?”“’Cos I wanted to have counsel’s opinion!”
THE LAST SELL
“Oh sir, please sir, is this Chancery Lane!”
“It is.”
“Ah! I knowed it was!”
“Then why did you ask?”
“’Cos I wanted to have counsel’s opinion!”
When you, my first brief, were delivered,Every fibre in me quiveredWith delight. I seemed to seeMyself admitted a K.C.;Piles of briefs upon the table,More work to do than I was able;Clients scrambling for advice,Then Lord Chancellor in a trice.I seized my virgin pencil blue,Marked and perused you through and throughThe story brief, instructions short,Defendant in a county court,It needed not an ounce of senseTo see that you had no defence.But, erudite in English law,I fashioned bricks without the straw.Around my chamber-floor I sped,Harangued the book-case on each head;Demosthenes and CiceroOn hearing me had cried a go.Then I must own that I was nettled—Out of court the case was settled.All my points were left unmade,And the fee is left unpaid.
When you, my first brief, were delivered,Every fibre in me quiveredWith delight. I seemed to seeMyself admitted a K.C.;Piles of briefs upon the table,More work to do than I was able;Clients scrambling for advice,Then Lord Chancellor in a trice.I seized my virgin pencil blue,Marked and perused you through and throughThe story brief, instructions short,Defendant in a county court,It needed not an ounce of senseTo see that you had no defence.But, erudite in English law,I fashioned bricks without the straw.Around my chamber-floor I sped,Harangued the book-case on each head;Demosthenes and CiceroOn hearing me had cried a go.Then I must own that I was nettled—Out of court the case was settled.All my points were left unmade,And the fee is left unpaid.
When you, my first brief, were delivered,Every fibre in me quiveredWith delight. I seemed to seeMyself admitted a K.C.;Piles of briefs upon the table,More work to do than I was able;Clients scrambling for advice,Then Lord Chancellor in a trice.
When you, my first brief, were delivered,
Every fibre in me quivered
With delight. I seemed to see
Myself admitted a K.C.;
Piles of briefs upon the table,
More work to do than I was able;
Clients scrambling for advice,
Then Lord Chancellor in a trice.
I seized my virgin pencil blue,Marked and perused you through and throughThe story brief, instructions short,Defendant in a county court,It needed not an ounce of senseTo see that you had no defence.But, erudite in English law,I fashioned bricks without the straw.
I seized my virgin pencil blue,
Marked and perused you through and through
The story brief, instructions short,
Defendant in a county court,
It needed not an ounce of sense
To see that you had no defence.
But, erudite in English law,
I fashioned bricks without the straw.
Around my chamber-floor I sped,Harangued the book-case on each head;Demosthenes and CiceroOn hearing me had cried a go.Then I must own that I was nettled—Out of court the case was settled.All my points were left unmade,And the fee is left unpaid.
Around my chamber-floor I sped,
Harangued the book-case on each head;
Demosthenes and Cicero
On hearing me had cried a go.
Then I must own that I was nettled—
Out of court the case was settled.
All my points were left unmade,
And the fee is left unpaid.
When may a lawyer’s clerk be considered most captivating? When he’s engrossing.
Policeman accosting straitjacketed street performerRATHER INCONSIDERATEPoliceman (suddenly, to street performer).“Now, then! just you move on, will yer?”
RATHER INCONSIDERATE
Policeman (suddenly, to street performer).“Now, then! just you move on, will yer?”
(By one of the Briefless)
Member of the Upper Bar (perusing Assize List).Shall I go round this time? Hum. Let me see. “Muddeford”—can get a day’s hunting there, I think. “Wandsbury”—go over to the Chilstons for Sunday, and have a jolly afternoon with Lily. “Swanston”—wouldn’t do any harm to go and look up Uncle George. “Leamouth”—excellent quarters at hotel there; fair dinner, too. “Deddingham”—good murder case; shouldn’t like to miss it. Yes, I think I’ll go round as far as that, and get back to town in time for the boat-race.”
Reform of the Law.—Chancellors, ex-Chancellors, and King’s Counsel, are members of a society for the reform of the law. They meet and denounce the wickedness of costs, and then hie away to practice. This reminds us of a passage in Borrow’sGipsies of Spain:—“And now, my dears,” says the head of the family to the younger branches—“now you have said your prayers, go out and steal.”
Lawyers playing leap-frogLONG VACATION“Now then, Latitat, tuck in your six-and-eightpenny!”
LONG VACATION
“Now then, Latitat, tuck in your six-and-eightpenny!”
(A report of the future)
The report that the Flashaway divorce suit is postponed is unfounded. It will commence on Tuesday as advertised. There are still a few gallery seats to be obtained at five guineas each.
At Bow Street yesterday, John Jones, a costermonger, was summoned for having obstructed the crowd waiting outside the pit of the Divorce Court. Lady Hightone having given evidence in support of the charge, the defendant explained that he was merely trying to get his barrow through the crowd on his way from Covent Garden.
The magistrate said that the pleasure-seeking public must be protected, and fined him five pounds and costs.
At the same court, the Earl of Blankley was charged with having driven a motor car to the public danger, and further with having run down a boy with fatal result.
His lordship explained that he was co-respondent in a divorce suit, and was on his way to the Law Courts when the accident occurred. The speed may have been a little excessive.
The magistrate said, that bearing in mind the public character of the business on which the defendant was engaged, he would discharge him on payment of half-a-crown and the funeral expenses.
The fine was at once paid.
A tiny puppyTHE MUZZLING REGULATIONSAnother culprit.
THE MUZZLING REGULATIONS
Another culprit.
At the New Law Courts.—The cry of the solicitor who has to go to the top story to transact business is, “Please give us a lift.” The solicitor’s lift, if introduced, will be called a conveyancer.
A Very Bad Judge.—The man who tries his friends.
Motto for a Man Reprieved from the Gallows.—No noose is good news.
Strange Sort of Business.—Lawyers sometimes take a different view of things from other persons; so perhaps they may understand how a stationer can think it is to his advantage to give this public notice in his window,—“Deeds abstracted.”
The law-courts as a circus“All in! all in! walk up, ladies!—just a going to begin! None of your shams here, but real bullet-headed murderers! All in! all in!”
“All in! all in! walk up, ladies!—just a going to begin! None of your shams here, but real bullet-headed murderers! All in! all in!”
The barristers of England, how hungrily they standAbout the Hall of Westminster, with wig, and gown, and band;With brief bag full of dummies and fee book full ofoughts,Result of the establishment of the new county courts.The barristers of England, how listlessly they sit,Expending on each other a small amount of wit:Without the opportunity of doing something worse,By talking nonsense at the cost of some poor client’s purse.The barristers of England, how when they get a cause,They (some of them) will disregard all gentlemanly laws;And bullying the witnesses upon the adverse side.Will do their very utmost the honest truth to hide.The barristers of England, how withsang froidsublime,They undertake to advocate two causes at one time;And when they find it is a thing impossible to do,They throw one client overboard, but take the fees of two.The barristers of England, how rarely they refuse,The party they appear against with coarseness to abuse;Feeling a noble consciousness no punishment can reachThe vulgar ribaldry they call the “privilege of speech.”The barristers of England, how often they degradeAn honourable calling to a pettifogging trade,And show how very slight the lines of separation are,Between the cabman’s licence, and “the licence of the bar.”The barristers of England, how, if they owe a grudge,They try with insolence to goad a poor assistant-judge;And after having bullied him, their bold imposture clench,By talking of their high respect for the judicial bench.The barristers of England, how sad it is to feelThat rant will pass for energy, and bluster goes for zeal;But ’tis a consolation that ’mid their ranks there areSufficient gentlemen to save the credit of the bar.
The barristers of England, how hungrily they standAbout the Hall of Westminster, with wig, and gown, and band;With brief bag full of dummies and fee book full ofoughts,Result of the establishment of the new county courts.The barristers of England, how listlessly they sit,Expending on each other a small amount of wit:Without the opportunity of doing something worse,By talking nonsense at the cost of some poor client’s purse.The barristers of England, how when they get a cause,They (some of them) will disregard all gentlemanly laws;And bullying the witnesses upon the adverse side.Will do their very utmost the honest truth to hide.The barristers of England, how withsang froidsublime,They undertake to advocate two causes at one time;And when they find it is a thing impossible to do,They throw one client overboard, but take the fees of two.The barristers of England, how rarely they refuse,The party they appear against with coarseness to abuse;Feeling a noble consciousness no punishment can reachThe vulgar ribaldry they call the “privilege of speech.”The barristers of England, how often they degradeAn honourable calling to a pettifogging trade,And show how very slight the lines of separation are,Between the cabman’s licence, and “the licence of the bar.”The barristers of England, how, if they owe a grudge,They try with insolence to goad a poor assistant-judge;And after having bullied him, their bold imposture clench,By talking of their high respect for the judicial bench.The barristers of England, how sad it is to feelThat rant will pass for energy, and bluster goes for zeal;But ’tis a consolation that ’mid their ranks there areSufficient gentlemen to save the credit of the bar.
The barristers of England, how hungrily they standAbout the Hall of Westminster, with wig, and gown, and band;With brief bag full of dummies and fee book full ofoughts,Result of the establishment of the new county courts.
The barristers of England, how hungrily they stand
About the Hall of Westminster, with wig, and gown, and band;
With brief bag full of dummies and fee book full ofoughts,
Result of the establishment of the new county courts.
The barristers of England, how listlessly they sit,Expending on each other a small amount of wit:Without the opportunity of doing something worse,By talking nonsense at the cost of some poor client’s purse.
The barristers of England, how listlessly they sit,
Expending on each other a small amount of wit:
Without the opportunity of doing something worse,
By talking nonsense at the cost of some poor client’s purse.
The barristers of England, how when they get a cause,They (some of them) will disregard all gentlemanly laws;And bullying the witnesses upon the adverse side.Will do their very utmost the honest truth to hide.
The barristers of England, how when they get a cause,
They (some of them) will disregard all gentlemanly laws;
And bullying the witnesses upon the adverse side.
Will do their very utmost the honest truth to hide.
The barristers of England, how withsang froidsublime,They undertake to advocate two causes at one time;And when they find it is a thing impossible to do,They throw one client overboard, but take the fees of two.
The barristers of England, how withsang froidsublime,
They undertake to advocate two causes at one time;
And when they find it is a thing impossible to do,
They throw one client overboard, but take the fees of two.
The barristers of England, how rarely they refuse,The party they appear against with coarseness to abuse;Feeling a noble consciousness no punishment can reachThe vulgar ribaldry they call the “privilege of speech.”
The barristers of England, how rarely they refuse,
The party they appear against with coarseness to abuse;
Feeling a noble consciousness no punishment can reach
The vulgar ribaldry they call the “privilege of speech.”
The barristers of England, how often they degradeAn honourable calling to a pettifogging trade,And show how very slight the lines of separation are,Between the cabman’s licence, and “the licence of the bar.”
The barristers of England, how often they degrade
An honourable calling to a pettifogging trade,
And show how very slight the lines of separation are,
Between the cabman’s licence, and “the licence of the bar.”
The barristers of England, how, if they owe a grudge,They try with insolence to goad a poor assistant-judge;And after having bullied him, their bold imposture clench,By talking of their high respect for the judicial bench.
The barristers of England, how, if they owe a grudge,
They try with insolence to goad a poor assistant-judge;
And after having bullied him, their bold imposture clench,
By talking of their high respect for the judicial bench.
The barristers of England, how sad it is to feelThat rant will pass for energy, and bluster goes for zeal;But ’tis a consolation that ’mid their ranks there areSufficient gentlemen to save the credit of the bar.
The barristers of England, how sad it is to feel
That rant will pass for energy, and bluster goes for zeal;
But ’tis a consolation that ’mid their ranks there are
Sufficient gentlemen to save the credit of the bar.
Old man in the dockAged Criminal (who has just got a life sentence).“Oh, me lud, I shall never live to do it!”Judge (sweetly).“Never mind. Do as much of it as you can!”
Aged Criminal (who has just got a life sentence).“Oh, me lud, I shall never live to do it!”
Judge (sweetly).“Never mind. Do as much of it as you can!”
LEGAL EXAMINATION QUESTION.
Q.What is afeme sole?
A.A lady’s boot that has lost itsfellow.
From Scotland Yard.—Our police force, it has been observed, is deficient in height. The reason is plain. Tall policemen are discouraged, because they might look over things.
A Tight Fit.—A state of coma, which bobbies are too apt to confound with apoplexy.
A Special Plea.—A young thief who was charged the other day with picking pockets, demurred to the indictment, “for, that, whereas he had never picked pockets, but had always taken them just as they came.”
Justice admonishing barristersDrawing the Line.—Judge.“Remove those barristers. They’re drawing!”Chorus of Juniors.“May it please your ludship, we’re only drawing—pleadings.”[“Mr. Justice Denman said that he saw a thing going on in court that he could not sanction. He saw gentlemen of the bar making pictures of the witness. Let it be understood that he would turn out any gentleman of the bar who did so in future.”—Daily Paper.]
Drawing the Line.—Judge.“Remove those barristers. They’re drawing!”
Chorus of Juniors.“May it please your ludship, we’re only drawing—pleadings.”
[“Mr. Justice Denman said that he saw a thing going on in court that he could not sanction. He saw gentlemen of the bar making pictures of the witness. Let it be understood that he would turn out any gentleman of the bar who did so in future.”—Daily Paper.]
Oh! take away my wig and gown,Their sight is mock’ry now to me:I pace my chambers up and down,Reiterating “Where ishe?”Alas! wild echo, with a moan,Murmurs above my fever’d head:In the wide world I am alone;Ha! ha! my only client’s—dead.In vain the robing room I seek;The very waiters scarcely bow;Their looks contemptuously speak,“He’s lost his only client now.”E’en the mild usher, who of yore,Would hasten when his name I said,To hand in motions, comes no more,Heknows my only client’s dead.Ne’er shall I, rising up in court,Open the pleadings of a suit:Ne’er shall the judges cut me short,While moving them for a compute.No more with a consenting briefShall I politely bow my head;Where shall I run to hide my grief?Alas! my only client’s dead.Imagination’s magic powerBrings back, as clear as clear can be,The spot, the day, the very hour,When first I sign’d my maiden plea.In the Exchequer’s hindmost row,I sat, and some one touch’d my head,He tendered ten-and-six, but oh!That only client now is dead.In vain, I try to sing—I’m hoarse:In vain I try to play the flute,A phantom seems to flit across,—It is the ghost of a compute.I try to read—but all in vain;My chambers listlessly I tread;Be still, my heart; throb less, my brain;Ho! ho! my only client’s dead.I think I hear a double knock;I did—alas! it is a dun.Tailor—avaunt! my sense you shock;He’s dead! you know I had but one!What’s this they thrust into my hand?A bill returned!—ten pounds for bread!My butcher got a large demand;I’m mad! my only client’s dead.
Oh! take away my wig and gown,Their sight is mock’ry now to me:I pace my chambers up and down,Reiterating “Where ishe?”Alas! wild echo, with a moan,Murmurs above my fever’d head:In the wide world I am alone;Ha! ha! my only client’s—dead.In vain the robing room I seek;The very waiters scarcely bow;Their looks contemptuously speak,“He’s lost his only client now.”E’en the mild usher, who of yore,Would hasten when his name I said,To hand in motions, comes no more,Heknows my only client’s dead.Ne’er shall I, rising up in court,Open the pleadings of a suit:Ne’er shall the judges cut me short,While moving them for a compute.No more with a consenting briefShall I politely bow my head;Where shall I run to hide my grief?Alas! my only client’s dead.Imagination’s magic powerBrings back, as clear as clear can be,The spot, the day, the very hour,When first I sign’d my maiden plea.In the Exchequer’s hindmost row,I sat, and some one touch’d my head,He tendered ten-and-six, but oh!That only client now is dead.In vain, I try to sing—I’m hoarse:In vain I try to play the flute,A phantom seems to flit across,—It is the ghost of a compute.I try to read—but all in vain;My chambers listlessly I tread;Be still, my heart; throb less, my brain;Ho! ho! my only client’s dead.I think I hear a double knock;I did—alas! it is a dun.Tailor—avaunt! my sense you shock;He’s dead! you know I had but one!What’s this they thrust into my hand?A bill returned!—ten pounds for bread!My butcher got a large demand;I’m mad! my only client’s dead.
Oh! take away my wig and gown,Their sight is mock’ry now to me:I pace my chambers up and down,Reiterating “Where ishe?”
Oh! take away my wig and gown,
Their sight is mock’ry now to me:
I pace my chambers up and down,
Reiterating “Where ishe?”
Alas! wild echo, with a moan,Murmurs above my fever’d head:In the wide world I am alone;Ha! ha! my only client’s—dead.
Alas! wild echo, with a moan,
Murmurs above my fever’d head:
In the wide world I am alone;
Ha! ha! my only client’s—dead.
In vain the robing room I seek;The very waiters scarcely bow;Their looks contemptuously speak,“He’s lost his only client now.”
In vain the robing room I seek;
The very waiters scarcely bow;
Their looks contemptuously speak,
“He’s lost his only client now.”
E’en the mild usher, who of yore,Would hasten when his name I said,To hand in motions, comes no more,Heknows my only client’s dead.
E’en the mild usher, who of yore,
Would hasten when his name I said,
To hand in motions, comes no more,
Heknows my only client’s dead.
Ne’er shall I, rising up in court,Open the pleadings of a suit:Ne’er shall the judges cut me short,While moving them for a compute.
Ne’er shall I, rising up in court,
Open the pleadings of a suit:
Ne’er shall the judges cut me short,
While moving them for a compute.
No more with a consenting briefShall I politely bow my head;Where shall I run to hide my grief?Alas! my only client’s dead.
No more with a consenting brief
Shall I politely bow my head;
Where shall I run to hide my grief?
Alas! my only client’s dead.
Imagination’s magic powerBrings back, as clear as clear can be,The spot, the day, the very hour,When first I sign’d my maiden plea.
Imagination’s magic power
Brings back, as clear as clear can be,
The spot, the day, the very hour,
When first I sign’d my maiden plea.
In the Exchequer’s hindmost row,I sat, and some one touch’d my head,He tendered ten-and-six, but oh!That only client now is dead.
In the Exchequer’s hindmost row,
I sat, and some one touch’d my head,
He tendered ten-and-six, but oh!
That only client now is dead.
In vain, I try to sing—I’m hoarse:In vain I try to play the flute,A phantom seems to flit across,—It is the ghost of a compute.
In vain, I try to sing—I’m hoarse:
In vain I try to play the flute,
A phantom seems to flit across,—
It is the ghost of a compute.
I try to read—but all in vain;My chambers listlessly I tread;Be still, my heart; throb less, my brain;Ho! ho! my only client’s dead.
I try to read—but all in vain;
My chambers listlessly I tread;
Be still, my heart; throb less, my brain;
Ho! ho! my only client’s dead.
I think I hear a double knock;I did—alas! it is a dun.Tailor—avaunt! my sense you shock;He’s dead! you know I had but one!
I think I hear a double knock;
I did—alas! it is a dun.
Tailor—avaunt! my sense you shock;
He’s dead! you know I had but one!
What’s this they thrust into my hand?A bill returned!—ten pounds for bread!My butcher got a large demand;I’m mad! my only client’s dead.
What’s this they thrust into my hand?
A bill returned!—ten pounds for bread!
My butcher got a large demand;
I’m mad! my only client’s dead.
PugilistsChamber Practice.—Messenger (from studious party in the floor below).“If you please, sir, master’s compliments, and he says he’d be much obliged if you’d let him know when the repairs will be finished, for the knocking do disturb him so!”
Chamber Practice.—Messenger (from studious party in the floor below).“If you please, sir, master’s compliments, and he says he’d be much obliged if you’d let him know when the repairs will be finished, for the knocking do disturb him so!”
Reform your Lawyers’ Bills.—There is one consolidation of the statutes that would be very useful—to make them so solid that no lawyer could drive a coach-and-six through them.
Two gentlemen talkingFirst Litigant.“I’m bankruptcy. What are you?”Second L.“I’m divorce.”First L.“Then you stand lunch!”
First Litigant.“I’m bankruptcy. What are you?”
Second L.“I’m divorce.”
First L.“Then you stand lunch!”
(Fragment from a romance not entirely imaginary)
Scene.—A corridor in the Royal Courts. Eminent counsel in conversation with estimable solicitor and respected client.
Client.I am rather sorry, sir, that you could not conduct my case in person.
Coun.So am I. I took a deal of trouble in preparing the argument I proposed to advance, and it was a great disappointment to me that I was unable to deliver it in person.
Solic.But your junior, sir, represented you to perfection.
Coun.I am rejoiced to hear it. I give every credit to my young and learned friend, and am pleased to think that when we met in consultation I was able to choose the right line of policy.
Solic.Besides, if you were not with us, your retainer prevented you from being against us. And that was a distinct advantage.
Coun.You are most flattering, and too kind.
Solic.Not at all; and I am sure my client agrees with me?
Client.Well, of course I would rather have had the assistance of silk, although your junior no doubt did his best.
Coun.I am sure he did. And now, gentlemen, is there anything further I can do for you?
Solic.Thank you very much—I think not. You got up your case, consulted with your junior and if you were prevented from putting in an appearance in the Court itself, were there in spirit. Besides, I repeat it was a good thing for us that you did not join the Bar of the other side. Thank you very much indeed, sir. Good day.
Coun.Good day. (He prepares to walk off, when, noticing a movement of the solicitor, he stops.) You are sure I can do nothing more for you?
Solic.Oh, it’s scarcely worth mentioning. But perhaps you would not mind returning your fee.
Coun.With the greatest pleasure! (Hands over a bag of gold and exit.)
Client.Well, really, that seems to me very generous! Isn’t it rather unusual?
Solic.Unusual! Oh dear no! Why, it’s the practice of the whole profession!
Curtain.
Barrister and old lady talkingA Rising Junior.—Old Lady (at the Law Courts).“Could you kindly direct me, sir, to——”Young Briefless.“My dear madam, I’m a perfect stranger myself—don’t think I’ve been in a court for the last twenty years!”
A Rising Junior.—Old Lady (at the Law Courts).“Could you kindly direct me, sir, to——”
Young Briefless.“My dear madam, I’m a perfect stranger myself—don’t think I’ve been in a court for the last twenty years!”
Barrister with bagHis First!—Constable (suspiciously).“That bag, sir—does it contain——?”Little Barrister.“My brief!”
His First!—Constable (suspiciously).“That bag, sir—does it contain——?”
Little Barrister.“My brief!”
Sir,—A “Barrister” who lately wrote to theTimes, in order to draw public attention to the existing anomalies in the Law of Divorce, omitted all mention of one of its most glaring absurdities. Allow me to state a case in point. Mr. A. runs away with Mrs. B., very good, I mean, of course very bad; well, Mrs. A. sues for a divorce from Mr. A., and obtains an order for alimonypendente lite. Mr. A. objects to pay this amount for the support of his wife, whereupon the Judge “orders an attachment to issue.” Now, sir, if it be, as it certainly is, in the power of the Judge Ordinary to order Mr. A.’s attachment toIssue, why should he not be able judicially to order Mr. A.’s attachment toWife? I remain, sir, yours thoughtfully.
A Revising Barrister.
Courtroom scene“COUNSEL’S OPINION”Judge (testily, to persistent junior).“Sir, if you don’t know how to behave as a gentleman in court, I can’t teach you!”Junior (pointedly).“Quite so, my lud, quite so!”[Proceeds.
“COUNSEL’S OPINION”
Judge (testily, to persistent junior).“Sir, if you don’t know how to behave as a gentleman in court, I can’t teach you!”
Junior (pointedly).“Quite so, my lud, quite so!”
[Proceeds.
Among the cheap furniture projects, is a tempting offer to supply everything necessary for a barrister’s chambers for five pounds. We have made a rough calculation in our minds of themeubles; and the following, we should say, is about the estimate that the advertisers form of
EVERYTHING NECESSARY FOR A BARRISTER’S CHAMBERS.
Motto for the Long Firm.—“Order is heaven’s first law.”