days."

"Now, look at that!" broke in Joe, "it's made master look forty year
older aready."

"So it have, Joe," rejoined the mistress; "I wish it could be chucked up
altogether."

Mr. Prigg benignantly shook his head.

"D'ye think I be gwine to give in to thic sniggerin' Snooks feller?"
asked Mr. Bumpkin. "Not if I knows it. Why thic feller goo sniggerin'
along th' street as though he'd won; and he 'ave told lots o' people how
he'll laugh I out o' Coourt--his counsel be gwine to laugh I out o'
Coourt becors I be a country farmer."

"Right can't be laughed out of Court, sir," said the excellent Prigg,
solemnly.

"Noa, noa, right bean't asheamed, goo where ur wool. Upright and
down-straight wur allays my motto. I be a plain man, but I allays tried
to act straight-forrerd, and bean't asheamed o' no man."

This speech was a complete success: it was unanswerable. It fixed the
lodgings at Camden Town. It stopped Mrs. Bumpkin's impatience;
diminished her apprehensions; and apparently, lulled her misgivings. She
was a gentle, hard-working, loving wife.

And so all was settled. It was the month of April, and it was
confidently expected that by the end of July all would be comfortably
finished in time to get in the harvest. The crops looked well; the
meadows and clover-field promised a fair crop, and the wheat and barley
never looked better.

The following week found Mr. Bumpkin in his new lodgings at Camden Town;
and I verily believe, as Mr. Prigg very sagaciously observed, if it had
not been for the Judges going circuit, _Bumpkin_ v. _Snooks_ would have
been in the paper six weeks earlier than it really was. But even
lawsuits must come on at last, be they never so tardy: and one day, in
bustling haste, Mr. Prigg's young man informed Mr. Bumpkin that a
consultation was actually fixed at his leader's chambers, Garden Court,
Temple, at seven o'clock punctually the next day.

Bumpkin was delighted: he was to be present at the express wish of the
leading counsel. So to Garden Court he went at seven, with Mr. Prigg;
and there sure enough was Mr. Dynamite, his junior counsel. Mr.
Catapult, Q.C., had not yet arrived. So while they waited, Mr. Bumpkin
had an opportunity of looking about him; never in his life had he seen so
many books. There they were all over the walls; shelves upon shelves.
The chambers seemed built with books, and Mr. Bumpkin raised his eyes
with awe to the ceiling, expecting to see books t