chosen. "I have
been reading some of your cases. I was present while Jopp was tried. It
was a hideous business. Father, it was a hideous thing! Grant he was
vile, why should you hunt him with a vileness equal to his own? It was
done with glee--that is the word--you did it with glee; and I looked on,
God help me! with horror."

"You're a young gentleman that doesna approve of caapital punishment,"
said Hermiston. "Weel, I'm an auld man that does. I was glad to get Jopp
haangit, and what for would I pretend I wasna? You're all for honesty,
it seems; you couldn't even steik your mouth on the public street. What
for should I steik mines upon the Bench, the King's officer, bearing the
sword, a dreid to evil-doers, as I was from the beginning, and as I will
be to the end! Mair than enough of it! Heedious! I never gave twa
thoughts to heediousness, I have no call to be bonny. I'm a man that
gets through with my day's business, and let that suffice."

The ring of sarcasm had died out of his voice as he went on; the plain
words became invested with some of the dignity of the Justice-seat.

"It would be telling you if you could say as much," the speaker resumed.
"But ye cannot. Ye've been reading some of my cases, ye say. But it was
not for the law in them, it was to spy out your faither's nakedness, a
fine employment in a son. You're splairging; you're running at lairge
in life like a wild nowt. It's impossible you should think any longer of
coming to the Bar. You're not fit for it; no splairger is. And another
thing: son of mines or no son of mines, you have flung fylement in
public on one of the Senators of the Coallege of Justice, and I would
make it my business to see that ye were never admitted there yourself.
There is a kind of a decency to be observit. Then comes the next of
it--what am I to do with ye next? Ye'll have to find some kind of a
trade, for I'll never support ye in idleset. What do ye fancy ye'll be
fit for? The pulpit? Na, they could never get diveenity into that
bloackhead. Him that the law of man whammles is no likely to do muckle
better by the law of God. What would ye make of hell? Wouldna your gorge
rise at that? Na, there's no room for splairgers under the fower
quarters of John Calvin. What else is there? Speak up. Have ye got
nothing of your own?"

"Father, let me go to the Peninsula," said Archie. "That's all I'm fit
for--to fight."

"All? quo' he!" returned the judge. "And it would be enough t