hed farewell."

A turkey-cock in a pulpit could not have seemed more to dominate the
proceedings.

One very annoying circumstance occurred at this Assize. It was the
cracking, sometimes almost banging, of the _seats_ and wainscoting,
which had been remade of oak. Every now and again there was a loud
squeak, and then a noise like the cracking of walnuts. To a sensitive
mind it must have been a trying situation, as Toole afterwards said,
when you are trying prisoners.

Meanwhile Sir Henry pursued the even tenor of his way, speaking
little, as was his wont, and thinking much about the case before him,
of a very trumpery character, unless you measured it by the game laws.
But no one less liked to be disturbed by noises of any kind than Sir
Henry when at work. Even the rustling of a newspaper would cause him
to direct the reader to study in some other part of the building.

Suddenly there was a squeaking of another kind distinguishable from
all others--it was the squeaking of _Sunday boots_. In the country no
boots are considered Sunday boots unless they squeak. At all events,
that was the case in Derbyshire at the time I write of.

The noise proceeded from a heavy farmer, a juror-in-waiting, who was
allowed to cross from one side of the court to the other for change of
air. His endeavour to suppress the noise of his boots only seemed to
cause them the greater irritation. There was a universal titter as the
crowd looked up to see what line the Judge would take.

Sir Henry reproved quietly, and just as the farmer, who was prancing
like an elephant, had got well in front of the Bench, he said,--

"If that gentleman desires to perambulate this court, he had better
take off his boots."

The gravity of the situation was disturbed, but that of the farmer
remained, unhappily for him, for, with one foot planted firmly on the
ground, and the other poised between heaven and earth, he was afraid
to let it come down, and there he stood. "We will wait," said the
Judge, "until that gentleman has got to the door which leads into the
street." The juryman, Toole told us afterwards, was delighted, for he
escaped for the whole Assize.

Although there was much laughter, Toole knew his position and dignity
too well to join in it; but he did what any respectable citizen would
be expected to do in the circumstances--tried to suppress it, yet made
such faces in the attempt that the whole house came down in volleys.
But now he was resolve