f enclosed seats on
his right, 'that's where the jurymen sit, is it not?'

'The identical place, my dear Sir,' replied Perker, tapping the lid of
his snuff-box.

Mr. Pickwick stood up in a state of great agitation, and took a glance
at the court. There were already a pretty large sprinkling of spectators
in the gallery, and a numerous muster of gentlemen in wigs, in the
barristers' seats, who presented, as a body, all that pleasing and
extensive variety of nose and whisker for which the Bar of England is
so justly celebrated. Such of the gentlemen as had a brief to carry,
carried it in as conspicuous a manner as possible, and occasionally
scratched their noses therewith, to impress the fact more strongly on
the observation of the spectators. Other gentlemen, who had no briefs to
show, carried under their arms goodly octavos, with a red label behind,
and that under-done-pie-crust-coloured cover, which is technically known
as 'law calf.' Others, who had neither briefs nor books, thrust their
hands into their pockets, and looked as wise as they conveniently
could; others, again, moved here and there with great restlessness and
earnestness of manner, content to awaken thereby the admiration and
astonishment of the uninitiated strangers. The whole, to the great
wonderment of Mr. Pickwick, were divided into little groups, who were
chatting and discussing the news of the day in the most unfeeling manner
possible--just as if no trial at all were coming on.

A bow from Mr. Phunky, as he entered, and took his seat behind the row
appropriated to the King's Counsel, attracted Mr. Pickwick's attention;
and he had scarcely returned it, when Mr. Serjeant Snubbin appeared,
followed by Mr. Mallard, who half hid the Serjeant behind a large
crimson bag, which he placed on his table, and, after shaking hands with
Perker, withdrew. Then there entered two or three more Serjeants; and
among them, one with a fat body and a red face, who nodded in a friendly
manner to Mr. Serjeant Snubbin, and said it was a fine morning.

'Who's that red-faced man, who said it was a fine morning, and nodded to
our counsel?' whispered Mr. Pickwick.

'Mr. Serjeant Buzfuz,' replied Perker. 'He's opposed to us; he leads on
the other side. That gentleman behind him is Mr. Skimpin, his junior.'

Mr. Pickwick was on the point of inquiring, with great abhorrence of the
man's cold-blooded villainy, how Mr. Serjeant Buzfuz, who was counsel
for the opposite party, d