Punch (71.1876)

August 12, 1876.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

61

You haven't done anything- contrary to Law—at least, not that you
are aware of: only, you suddenly remember that, four years ago,
you ivere a little uncertain about joining the Directorship of that
Company, of which you had heard little or nothing, except what your
esteemed and respected friend (a man of vast commercial experi-
ence) had chosen to tell you. Has some prying, meddling, sensation-
loving Shareholder started up, and insisted upon an exhumation
of that Company's body, and a consequent inquest ? If so . . .
Then the nervous man reads the summons: " Victoria" (in large
letters, of a fanciful flourishing character), " by the Grace of God,
of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland" (this is Her
Majesty's address, should you wish to write to her), " Queen, De-
fender of the Faith " (this title suggests to the nervous man the
possibility of his having unconsciously offended against some old
ecclesiastical Law—but he cannot call to mind any statute he might
bave contravened, except, perhaps, something about " a fine of five
shillings for swearing), ' to " (So-and-so—here follows the name),
" Greeting" (which is the first sign of politeness on the part of
Eoyalty, and of. a wish to make things pleasant. It puts the ner-
vous man temporarily at his ease. He breathes again; he looks
round; he smiles; he experiences a tingling of loyalty in his heart,
and, expecting something still more paternal, or maternal, and
cheering, he resumes his perusal. But the tone is suddenly and inex-
plicably changed. So rapid is this alteration, that, had somebody,
six feet two high, and powerful in proportion, smilingly beckoned
you up-stairs, and then, on your reaching the top, had changed from
lively to severe, and kicked you down again, the shock could not
be more electrical than this sudden assumption of fierceness. Thus
it goes on peremptorily :—) " We command you, and every of you "
(which appears unnecessary, as if you had some deep scheme for
evading the summons by sending your hat, or your carte de visite,
or your wooden legs—if any), " that all things set aside " (this sounds
like a direction to " leave your sticks and umbrellas in the hall"),
" and ceasing every excuse " (when as yet you haven't tried to raise
even one plea on your own behalf), "you and every of you be and
appear in your proper persons before " (now the tone changes to one
of more than affectionate regard) " our right trusty and icell-beloved
Sir Peter Pyper " (or whatever the name for the time being may
be), "Bart., Lord Chief Justice of England, 8fc, on — day of

■-by ten of the clock " (what clock P), "in the forenoon of the same

day, and so from day to day " (enough to worry a nervous man's
life out of him, merely to read this) "until the cause hereinafter
mentioned be tried, to testify the truth according to your knowledge "
(&c, &c). "And this you nor any of you shall in nowise omit,
under the Penalty" (with a large " P ") '" of every of you" (this is
confusing, but the sequence is clear) " of One Hundred Pounds."

Whereupon the nervous man collapses. Now, why cannot it be
put simply thus ?—

" Sir,—You will have to attend as a Witness, on and after— dayi
at — a.m., in such-and-such a case, at—. The penalty for non-
attendance is £100."

_ Sappy Thought.—-Reform of legal forms. However, not having
time to go into the subject, at the station, with the Clerk from
Messrs. Plttmpton and Spry's, I simply tell him, as pleasantly as
possible, " That I should have had great pleasure in accepting the
invitation, but unfortunately I can't, as I am off to Ireland, and
am uncertain as to my return."

Plumpton and Spry, however, have provided for this emer-
gency. Wherever you may be, Sir," says the Clerk, with a tinge
of sadness m his voice, you will have the goodness to keep Messrs.
Pltjmpton and Spry informed of your movements by letter, or tele-
gram. Then we can summon you at a moment's notice, if wanted,
and we shan t detain you five minutes."

So, chained by a telegraph cable—Plumptok and Spry being
at one end, and myself at the other—I am off for a holiday's enjoy-
ment to Ireland!

Supposing at the Giant's Causeway I receive a telegram—" Come
back from Erin. Shan't keep you five minutes. Judge waiting "—
there would be an end of all my amusement.

Why couldn't my examination, as a witness, be conducted by tele-
gram r1 Only a very little extra expense, really only a few shillings,
™™y should I, or "any of me," be brought up bodily? Can't
1 tell the truth by telegram just as well, and better, than if I were
being brow-beat m a witness-box, with the eyes of the Judge,
Counsel, Jury, Reporters, Illustrated Paper Artists, Police, Usher,
and Public on me ? Certainly. Why the thing might be done
beautifully, and our legal machinery simplified by wiring.

To put it clearly and dramatically, thus :

Scene.—Court of Queen's Bench, during a Trial,
Counsel. Call the next Witness.
Usher (calls). Mr. Granville de l'Ashby Zooch !
No answer. Judge restless. Counsel consults Solicitors, Messrs.
Searpe and Chdckittjp.

Counsel. He's not here. Most important Witness. What shall
we do r

Mr. Sharpe. I know where he's to be found. He's at the Giant's
Causeway. [For example; but it might be the Hebrides, or on
board the yacht Nautilus, off Trouville.] But—(Happy Thought.—
Electricity, like love, makes all places alike.)—I '11 wire.

Exit Mr. Sharpe to wire, while Counsel explains.

Judge. Well, we can take the next Witness in the meantime.
(They take the next Witness, squeeze him dry in a quarter of an hour,
and then throw him away.)

Then the electric machine is brought into Court. Counsel asks
questions, and Telegraph Clerk works the wire.

Counsel (in the Court of Queen's Bench). Your name, I think is
Granville de L'Ashby Zooch ?

Witness (seated at the Giant's Causeway, on the rock furthest
from the shore, ivith his stockings off and his feet in the sea, enjoying
the delicious breeze in the month of June, and smoking a mild cigar.
Next him sits a Telegraph Clerk with the electric apparatus and
wire laid on). It is.

Counsel (repeating answer, which arrives one minute after it has
been given). "It is." Now, Sir, on the 19th of June, 1873, were
you breakfasting with His Excellency the Due de Dekayses, the
accredited Plenipotentiary from the South Guano Isles to this
conntry ?

Witness (after listening to the ticking of the instrument, inhaling
a fragrant whiff of the mild Havannah, and carelessly throiving a
pebble at a sea-gull). I was.

Counsel (as before, in the Queen's Bench). " He was." Now, Sir,
will you have the goodness to tell us what happened on that occa-
sion ?

Witness (lighting afresh cigar, and answering by telegram). With
pleasure. Only wait till I have opened this bottle of whiskey.

The Judge (in the Court of Queen's Bench). What does he say ?

Counsel [who has called the Witness on his own side). He is only
pausing for a minute, my Lud, to refresh his memory.

The Judge (leaning back). Oh, very good. (Wishes he could
refresh his memory too. Looks at his watch.) Just send to your
Witness to tell him to get on—or, if he is going to have his lunch
brought to him out-of-doors, we can take ours at the same time. It
only wants half an hour of our usual adjournment.

Witness (on receiving the message). Thanks. Only some cold
chicken and whiskey and potass. Pipe afterwards. Call it half
an hour, and "I'm on." I shan't stir from here, so won't incur any
unnecessary expense.

The Judge (after hearing this read out). Good. Then (to Counsel)
we'd better adjourn. (To Jury.) In three-quarters of an hour from
now, Gentlemen. [Exeunt omnes.

When they return, of course, the Witness gives his evidence with
a will, stands the fire of a searching electric cross-examination, and,
after all, serves the cause of justice far more effectually than if he
had travelled a thousand miles, tired himself out, and had come up
ill, worried, and irritable into the box in the Court of Queen's
Bench.

I present these suggestions as Happy Thoughts to the Bench, the
Bar, and the legal profession generally,—and, without further note
or comment, I am, at last, off for Ould Ireland.

SENTIMENT AT STRATEORD-ON-AYON.

It appears from the gratifying paragraph below quoted, that,
though utilitarianism has triumphed, still unproductive sentiment
prevails to a considerable extent amongst the inhabitants of a
municipality associated with the memory,of a poet, the late Mr.
William Shakspeare :—

" Tile Curfew Bell.—The Stratford-on-Ayon Town Council yesterday,
by a majority of one, decided to discontinue the ringing of the Curfew Bell, a
custom which has been observed for several hundred years. There was strong
opposition to the proposal to abolish such an ancient custom."

In fact, it seems that nearly half the Stratford-on-Avon Town
Councillors were unable to see that the Curfew, in this age of gas, to
say nothing of railways and electric telegraphs, was a mere
anachronism, that it had long ceased to admonish people to put out
their fires and candles, and had sunk into a mere survival, prolonged
by nothing but an idle veneration for antiquity. The feeling which
made so large a minority of them object to abolish the ringing of an
old bell would no doubt also make them wish to see weather-stains
and ivy continue to deface an old bell-tower. To be sure, the
majority have just managed to

" Silence that dreadful bell."

But it appears likely that they will encounter a strong opposition to
any proposal they may by-and~by make to improve Shakspeare's
monument by whitewashing it, or to defy superstition by removing
both it and the remains beneath it to another site.

The End oe the Session.—Smoke.

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