in School. At the age
of 40 he spelled Sure with an Sh and sank in a Heap when he tried to
add 8 and 7. But he was a tall Success as a Book Pedler, because he
learned his Piece and the 218 pounds of Dignified Superiority did the
Rest.

Wherever he went, he commanded Respect. He could go into a strange
Hotel and sit down at the Breakfast Table and say: "Please pass the
Syrup" in a Tone that had all the majestic Significance of an Official
Utterance. He would sit there in silent Meditation. Those who sized up
that elephantine Form and noted the Gravity of his Countenance and the
fluted Wrinkles on his high Brow, imagined that he was pondering on
the Immortality of the Soul. As a matter of fact, Jim was wondering
whether he would take Ham or Bacon with his Eggs.

Jim had the Bulk and the awe-inspiring Front. As long as he held to a
Napoleonic Silence he could carry out the Bluff. Little Boys tip-toed
when they came near him, and Maiden Ladies sighed for an introduction.
Nothing but a Post-Mortem Examination would have shown Jim up in his
True Light. The midget Lawyer looked up in Envy at his mastodonic
Acquaintance and sighed.

"If I could combine my Intellect with your Horse-Power, I would be the
largest Dandelion in the Legal Pasture," he said.

Then a Happy Idea struck him amidships.

"Jim, I want you to be my Associate Counsel," he said. "I understand,
of course, that you do not know the difference between a Caveat and a
Caviar Sandwich, but as long as you keep your Hair combed the way it
is now and wear that Thoughtful Expression, you're just as good as
the whole Choate Family. I will introduce you as an Eminent Attorney
from the East. I will guard the Law Points and you will sit there and
Dismay the Opposition by looking Wise."

So when the Case came up for Trial, the Runt led the august Jim into
the Court Room and introduced him as Associate Counsel. A Murmur
of Admiration ran throughout the Assemblage when Jim showed his
Commanding Figure, a Law Book under his Arm and a look of Heavy
Responsibility on his Face. Old Atlas, who carries the Globe on
his Shoulders, did not seem to be in it with this grand and gloomy
Stranger.

For two hours Jim had been rehearsing his Speech. He arose.

"Your Honor," he began.

At the Sound of that Voice, a scared Silence fell upon the Court Room.
It was like the Lower Octave of a Pipe Organ.

"Your Honor," said Jim, "we are ready for Trial."

The musical Rumble filled