During the progress of a dreadfully
long address to the jury for the defence, he said,--
"Why, gentlemen, there is not sufficient evidence against the prisoner
_on which to hang a dog_."
"And how much evidence, Mr. ----, would you consider sufficient to
hang a dog?"
"That would depend, my lord, as to whom the dog belonged."
I thought how like human nature that young man was.
I used to have a very good view of all that took place in court,
and could tell some very funny as well as interesting stories about
persons I have seen.
One day I was amused _so_ much that, had I not remembered where I was,
I must, like my friends mentioned by Robert Burns in his "Twa Dogs,"
have "barked wi' joy," because I thought it so strange. Here was a
Queen's Counsel, a man of so proper a countenance that I do not think
it ever smiled in its life, and so very devoted to his profession that
he would never think of leaving it to go to a racecourse. I should
have as soon expected to meet him in our dogs' home looking for a
greyhound to go coursing with on Primrose Hill,--and here he was
standing up on his hind legs, and making an application to the court
which my lord was never in his life known to grant.
It was the night before the Derby, and we always took care to have a
full list of cases for that Wednesday, for _fear_ the public should
think we went to the Derby and left the work to look after itself.
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