e red-faced little Judge, "What were
you doing in the back-room, ma'am?" followed--on her replying
lackadaisically, "My lord and jury, I will not deceive you"--by his
blinking at her more fiercely, "You had better not, ma'am," were only
exceeded in comicality by Justice Stare-leigh's bewilderment a moment
afterwards, upon her saying that she "see Mrs. Bardell's street-door on
the jar."

Judge (in immense astonishment).--"On the what?"

Counsel.--"Partly open, my lord."

Judge (with more owl-like stolidity than ever).--"She said on the jar."

Counsel.--"It's all the same, my lord."

Then--blinking more quickly than before, with a furtive glance at
witness, and a doubtful look of abstraction into space--the little Judge
made a note of it.

As in Mrs. Cluppins' faintness there was a recognizable touch of Mrs.
Crupp, when the spasms were engendering in the nankeen bosom of that
exemplary female, so also in the maternal confidences volunteered by the
same witness, there was an appreciable reminder of another lady who
will be remembered as having been introduced at the Coroner's Inquest
in Bleak House as "Anastasia Piper, gentlemen." Regarding that as a
favourable opportunity for informing the court of her own domestic
affairs, through the medium of a brief dissertation, Mrs. Cluppins was
interrupted by the irascible Judge at the most interesting point in her
revelations, when, having mentioned that she was already the mother of
eight children, she added, that "she entertained confident
expectations of presenting Mr. Cluppins with a ninth about that day
six months"--whereupon the worthy lady was summarily hustled out of the
witness-box.

Nathaniel Winkle, however, consoled us immediately. Don't we remember
how, even before he could open his lips, he was completely disconcerted?
Namely, when, bowing very respectfully to the little Judge, he had that
complimentary proceeding acknowledged snappishly with, "Don't look at
me, sir; look at the jury----" Mr. Winkle, in obedience to the mandate,
meekly looking "at the place where he thought that the jury might
be." Don't we remember also perfectly well how the worst possible
construction was cast by implication beforehand upon his probable reply
to the very first question put to him, namely, by the mere manner in
which that first question was put? "Now, sir, have the goodness to
let his lordship and the jury know what your name is, will you?" Mr.
Skimpin, in propounding this