"No, no," said Mr. b.u.mpkin, "it beant so much th" pig; it be the hoa.r.s.es moore, and the hayricks, and the whate, and-where be all my fowls and dooks?"
"The fowls-quite so! Let me see," said the meditative man, pressing the head of his gold pencil-case against his forehead, "the fowls-let me see-oh, I know, they did the pleadings-so they did."
"And thic sow o" mine?"
"Yes, yes; I think she made an affidavit, if I remember rightly. Yes, yes-and the bacon," said he, elevating his left hand, "six flitches I think there were; they used to be in this very room-"
"Ay, sure did ur," said Mr. b.u.mpkin.
"Well I remember; they made a very splendid affidavit too: I have a note of all of them in my memory."
"What coomed o" the cows?"
"Cows? Yes-I have it-our leading counsel had them; and the calf, if I remember rightly, went to the junior."
""Who had the cheeses?" inquired Mr. b.u.mpkin.
"Cheeses!" said the good man. "Oh, yes, the cheeses; they went in refreshers."
"And the poor old donkey?" asked Mrs. b.u.mpkin.
"Ah, where be Jock?" said Mr. b.u.mpkin.
"Went for the opinion," answered the lawyer.
"Where be thic bull o" mine?" said Tom. "He wur the finest bull in all thic county, woren"t he, Nancy?"
"Ay," answered Mrs. b.u.mpkin, "and ur follered I about, Tom, jist like a Christian."
"So ur did, Nancy. Dost thee mind, when ur got through thic gap into Squire Stucky"s meadow, "mong the cows?"
"Ay, Tom; and thee went and whistled un; but ur wouldn"t come for thy whistlin; and Joe, poor Joe! went and got a great stick."
"There I mind un," said b.u.mpkin; "what coomed of un, Master Prigg?"
"Quite so," said Mr. Prigg; "quite so; let me see." And again the gold pencil-case was pressed against his respectable forehead in placid cogitation. "Yes, that bull argued the appeal."
"Hem!" said Mr. b.u.mpkin; "argied appeal, did ur? Well, I tell ee what, Master Prigg, if that air bull "ad knowed what I knows now, he"d a gi"en them jusseses a bit o" his mind, and thee too."
"Dear me," said Mr. Prigg; "you entirely mis-apprehend-"
"Well, lookee "ere," said Tom, "it beant no use to mince matters wi" ee.
What I wants to know is as this; I winned my case-"
"Quite so," said Prigg.
"And "ow be it then that all my sheep and things be took off the farm?"
"Dear me!" said Mr. Prigg, in the tone of an injured man; "I think, of all men, clients are the most ungrateful. I have worked night and day to serve you; I have sacrificed my pleasures, which I do not reckon-my home comforts-"
"But who be thic feller that steals my corn an" hay, and pigs?"
"Really, Mr. b.u.mpkin, this is language which I did not expect from you."
"But "ow comes my farm stripped, Maister Prigg? tell I thic."
"I suppose you have given a bill of sale, Mr. b.u.mpkin. You are aware that a lawsuit cannot be carried on without means, and you should have calculated the cost before going to war. I think there is Scripture authority for that."
"Then have this Skinalive feller the right to take un?"
"I presume so," said Prigg; "I know he"s a most respectable man."
"A friend o" thine, I s"poase?"
"Well," said Prigg, hesitating, "I may even go so far as to say that."
"Then I be gwine so fur as to say thee be a d.a.m.ned rogue!" said Mr.
b.u.mpkin, rising, and thumping the table with great vehemence.
You might have knocked Mr. Prigg down with a feather, certainly with a bludgeon; such a shock he had never received at the hands of a client in the whole course of his professional experience. He rose and drew from his pocket an envelope, a very large official-looking envelope, such as no man twice in his life would like to see, even if he could be said to enjoy the prospect once.
It is not usual for respectable solicitors to carry about their bills of costs in their pockets, and why Mr. Prigg should have done so on this occasion I am not aware. I merely saw in my dream that he did so. There was not a change in his countenance; his piety was intact; there was not even a suffusion of colour. Placid, sweet-tempered, and urbane, as a Christian should be, he looked pityingly towards the hot and irascible b.u.mpkin, as though he should say, "You have smitten me on this cheek, now smite me on that!" and placed the great envelope on the table before the ungrateful man.
"What be thic?" inquired Mr. b.u.mpkin.
"A list of my services, sir," said Prigg, meekly: "You will see there, ungrateful man, the sacrifices I have made on your behalf; the journeyings oft; the hunger, and, I may say, thirst; the perils of robbers, the perils amongst false friends, the-"
"I doant understand, sir," said b.u.mpkin.
"Because darkness hath blinded your eyes," said the pious lawyer; "but I leave you, Mr. b.u.mpkin, and I will ask you, since you no longer repose confidence in my judgment and integrity, to obtain the services of some other professional gentleman, who will conduct your case with more zeal and fidelity than you think I have shown; I who have carried your cause to a triumphant issue; and may be said to have established the grand principle that an Englishman"s house is his castle."
And with this the good man, evidently affected by deep emotion, shook hands silently with Mrs. b.u.mpkin, and disappeared for ever from my view.
Never in any dream have I beheld that man again. Never, surely, under any form of humanity have so many virtues been concealed. I have looked for him in daily life, about the Courts of Justice and in the political arena, but his equal for simplicity of character, for unaffected piety, and purity of motive, have I never discovered, although I have seen many, who, without his talents, have vainly endeavoured to emulate his virtues.
Mrs. b.u.mpkin examined the doc.u.ment he had left, and found a most righteous statement of the services rendered by this great and good man; which, after giving credit to Mr. b.u.mpkin for cash received from Mr.
Skinalive, Mr. Prigg"s friend, of seven hundred and twenty-two pounds, six shillings and eightpence-half-penny, left a balance due to Honest Lawyer Prigg of three hundred and twenty-eight pounds, seven shillings and threepence,-subject, of course, to be reduced on taxation.
CHAPTER x.x.xVIII.
Farewell.
The last chapter of a book must always possess a special and melancholy interest for the author. He gives his words reluctantly, almost grudgingly, like one who is spending his last coins and will soon be left penniless upon the world. Or like one who is pa.s.sing his last moments at the house of a friend whom he may see no more for ever. The author is taking farewell of his characters and his readers, and therefore his regret is twofold; added to which is the doubt as to whether, judged by the severe standard of Public Opinion, he has been faithful to both.
Thought is large, and may fill the world, permeating every cla.s.s and every section of society; it may be circ.u.mscribed, and operate only upon some infinitesimal proportion of mankind: but whether great or small, for good or evil, it is published, and a corresponding responsibility devolves upon the writer. I record my dream faithfully, and am therefore exonerated, in my conscience, from responsibility in its effect.