ike--it goes down like a Pick-me-up." Then he would allude to Mr.
Heavytop, Q.C., as Jack; to Mr. Bigpot as old Kettledrum; to Mr. Swagger,
Q.C., as Pat; to B. C. Windbag, Q.C., M.P., as B. C.--all which indicated
to the mind of Mr. Bumpkin the particularly intimate terms upon which
Horatio was with these celebrities. Nor did his intimacy cease there:
instead of speaking of the highest legal official of the land in terms of
respectful deference, as "my Lord High Chancellor," or "my Lord
Allworthy,"--he would say, in the most indifferent manner "Old Allworthy"
this, and "Old Allworthy," that; sometimes even, he ventured to call some
of Her Majesty's Judges by nick-names; an example which, I trust, will
not be followed by the Horatios of the future. But I believe the pale
boy, like his great namesake, was fearless. It was a comfort to hear him
denounce the law's delay, and the terrible "cumbersomeness" of legal
proceedings: not that he did it in soothing language or in happy
phraseology: it was rather in a manner that led Mr. Bumpkin to believe
the young champion was standing up for his particular rights; as if he
had said to the authorities, whoever they might be, "Look here! I'll
have no more of this: it's a shame and disgrace to this country that a
simple dispute between a couple of neighbours can't be tried without
months of quarrelling in Judges' Chambers and elsewhere; if you don't try
this case before long I'll see what can be done." Then there was further
consolation in the fact that Horatio declared that, in his opinion, Tommy
_Catpup_, Q.C., would knock Snooks into a cocked hat, and that Snooks
already looked very down in the mouth.

On the evening at which I have arrived in my dream, when the pale boy
came in, Mr. Bumpkin inquired what was the matter: was the case settled?
Had Snooks paid the damages? Nothing of the kind. Horatio's visit was
of a common-place nature. He had simply come to inform Mr. Bumpkin that
the Archbishop of Canterbury had kindly sent him a couple of tickets for
the reserved seats at Canterbury Hall.

Mr. Bumpkin was disappointed. He cared nothing for Archbishops. He was
in hopes it had been something better.

"I wunt goo," said he.

"We ought to go, I think," said Horatio; "it was very kind of old Archy
to send em, and he wouldn't like it if we didn't go: besides, he and the
Rolls are great chums."

"Rolls!" said Bumpkin.

"The Master of the Rolls. I shouldn't wonder if