'im agin till I seen 'im in the
Sevenoaks' poor-house. I come acrost his little boy one night on the
hill, when I was a trampin' home. He hadn't nothin' on but rags, an' he
was as blue an' hungry as a spring bar. The little feller teched me ye
know--teched my feelins--an' I jest sot down to comfort 'im. He telled
me his ma was dead, and that his pa was at old Buffum's, as crazy as a
loon. Well, I stayed to old Buffum's that night, an' went into the
poor-house in the mornin', with the doctor. I seen Benedict thar, an'
knowed him. He was a lyin' on the straw, an' he hadn't cloes enough on
'im to put in tea. An', says I, 'Mr. Benedict, give us your
benediction;' an', says he, 'Jim!' That floored me, an' I jest cried and
swar'd to myself. Well, I made a little 'rangement with him an' his boy,
to take 'im to Abram's bosom. Ye see he thought he was in hell, an' it
was a reasomble thing in 'im too; an' I telled 'im that I'd got a
settlement in Abram's bosom, an' I axed 'im over to spend the day. I
took 'im out of the poor-house an' carried 'im to Number Nine, an' I
cured 'im. He's lived there ever sence, helped me build my hotel, an' I
come down with 'im, to 'tend this Court, an' we brung his little boy
along too, an' the little feller is here, an' knows him better nor I
do."

"And you declare, under oath, that the Paul Benedict whom you knew in
Sevenoaks, and at Number Nine--before his insanity--the Paul Benedict
who was in the poor-house at Sevenoaks and notoriously escaped from that
institution--escaped by your help, has lived with you ever since, and
has appeared here in Court this morning," said Mr. Balfour.

"He's the same feller, an' no mistake, if so be he hain't slipped his
skin," said Jim, "an' no triflin'. I make my Happy David on't."

"Did Mr. Belcher ever send into the woods to find him?'"

"Yis," said Jim, laughing, "but I choked 'em off."

"How did you choke them off?"

"I telled 'em both I'd lick 'em if they ever blowed. They didn't want to
blow any, to speak on, but Mike Conlin come in with a hundred dollars of
Belcher's money in his jacket, an' helped me nuss my man for a week; an'
I got a Happy David out o' Sam Yates, an' ther's the dockyment;" and Jim
drew from his pocket the instrument with which the reader is already
familiar.

Mr. Balfour had seen the paper, and told Jim that it was not necessary
in the case. Mr. Belcher looked very red in the face, and leaned over
and whispered to his lawyer.