red who was to be his counsel.

"I doan't rightly know, but I'll warrant Mr. Prigg'll have a good un--he
knows what he be about; and all I hopes is, he'll rattle it into that
there Snooks, for if ever there wur a bad un it be him."

"He looks a bad un," replied O'Rapley. "When do you think the case is
likely to come on?"

"Well, it is supposed as it ull be on to-morrer; but I bleeve there's no
sartinty about thic. Now then, just give us a little moore, will 'ee
sir?" (this to the waiter).

"I'll pay for the next," said O'Rapley, feeling in his pocket.

"Noa, noa, I'll pay; and thankee, sir, for comin'."

And then O'Rapley drank his friend's health again, and wished further
success to the case, and hoped Mr. Bumpkin would be sure to come to him
when he was at Westminster; and expressed himself desirous to assist his
friend in every way that lay in his power--declaring that he really must
be going for he didn't know what would happen if the Judge should find he
was away; and was not at all certain it would not lead to some officious
member of the House of Commons asking a question of the Prime Minister
about it.

Mr. Bumpkin drank his good health, again and again, declaring he was
"mighty proud to have met with un;" and that when the case was over and
he had returned to his farm, he should be pleased if Mr. O'Rapley would
come down and spend a few days with him. "Nancy," he said, "'ll be rare
and pleased to see thee. I got as nice a little farm as any in the
county, and as pooty pigs as thee ever clapped eyes on."

Mr. O'Rapley, without being too condescending, expressed himself highly
gratified with making Mr. Bumpkin's acquaintance, and observed that the
finest pigs ever he saw were those of the Lord Chief Justice.

"Dade, sir, now what sort be they?" Mr. O'Rapley was not learned in
pigs, and not knowing the name of any breed whatever, was at a loss how
to describe them. Mr. Bumpkin came to his assistance.

"Be they smooth like and slim?"

"Yes," said the Don.

"Hardly any hair?"

"Scarce a bit."

"They be Chichesters then--the werry best breed as a man ever had in his
stye."

"I never see anything so pretty," replied Mr. O'Rapley.

"Ah! and they be the smallest-boned pigs as ever could be--they bean't
got a bone bigger nor your little finger."

"Ha!" said the Don, finishing his glass, "the smaller the bone the more
the meat, that's what I always say; and the Lord Chief Justice don't care
for