ail, an
application was made at Judges' Chambers before Mr. Baron Martin to
reverse that decision, which he did.

"Not a rag of evidence," said the attorney's clerk when he delivered
the little brief--"not a shadder of evidence, Mr. 'Awkins. It's a
walk-over, sir."

I knew that meant a nominal fee, but wondered how many more similes he
was going to deliver instead of the money. But to the honour of the
solicitor, I am bound to say that point was soon cleared up, and
the practice of magistrates, supposed to be in their right minds,
committing people for trial with no "shadder" of evidence against
them, it now became my duty to inquire into. I asked how he knew there
was no evidence, and whether the man bore a respectable character.

"Oh, I was up before the Baron," he answered. ("Yes," I thought, "but
you must wake very early if you are up too soon for Baron Martin.")
"And the Baron said, as to grantin' bail, 'Certainly he should; the
magistrates had no business to commit him for trial, for there was not
a rag of a case against the man.' So you see, sir, it's a easy case,
Mr. 'Awkins; and as the man's a poor man, we can't mark much of a
fee."

The usual complaint with quarter sessions solicitors.

Such were my instructions. I was young in practice at that time, and
took a great deal more in--I mean in the way of credulity--than I
did in after life. Nor was I very learned in the ways of solicitors'
clerks. I knew that hearsay evidence, even in the case of a Judge's
observation, was inadmissible, and therefore what the Baron said could
not strictly be given; but I did not know how far you might go in
the country, nor what the Marquis's opinion might be of the Baron. I
therefore mentioned it to Rodwell, who, of course, was instructed for
the prosecution; he was in everything on one side or the other--never,
I believe, on both.

This stickler for etiquette was absolutely shocked; he held up his
hands, began a declamation on the rules of evidence, and uttered so
many Pharisaical platitudes that I only escaped annihilation by a
hair's-breadth. He was always furious on etiquette.

Much annoyed at his bumptious manner, I was resolved now, come what
would, to pay him off. I wanted to show him he was not everybody, even
at Hertford Sessions. So when the case came on and the policeman was
in the box, I rose to cross-examine him, which I did very quietly.

"Now, policeman, I am going to ask you a question; but pray don't