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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVAPJ. [October 3, 1891.

JOURNAL OF A ROLLING STONE.

Ninth Entry.

Curious thin?, now that I am installed as a pupil in FlBBEsrs's
Chambers in Waste Paper Buildings, Temple,' how few new briefs
I am given to read. Usual routine is for Dick Fibbins to hand me
a brief on which the dust of ages has coHected,tand to leave me to
"get up the law about it " ; but when he (Fibrins) comes back from
his day's business in Court, about 4'30 p.m., he doesn't seem to care a
bit to know what the law is. Seems tired, and prefers to gossip and
smoke; so I do the same, or "follow on the same side," as he
expresses it.

" It strikes me forcibly," I begin, " that the Plaintiff, Smeehers,
in that running-down case you asked me to read to-day, hasn't got
the ghost of a chance. Why, in Blatherson v. Snipe, the Court
ruled-"

"Tried the lawn-tennis in the gardens yet ? " FiBBiNsinterrupts,
in the rudest possible manner.

"No," I reply, " I was speaking of the Court, not lawn-tennis
courts." (One for Fibrins, I think.) "All
the Judges held in Blatherson v. Snipe,
that-"

" Oh, did they ? " he interrupts again":
" doosid interesting. Was I for plaintiff
or defendant ? "

"Plaintiff, SiilTHERS. A
running-down case."

" Wish it had been a
running-up case—a case of
running-up the fees," ho
laughs. Then, resuming a
more professional style, "You
see, I've had such multitudes
of cases since then, that I've
forgotten the precise details.
But you write out your own
Opinion — not to-day ; to-
morrow will do. Then I '11
see what it's like. Now let's
go a trot down the Strand."

Another circumstance that
strikes me as remarkable,
is the frequency with which
I hear the Impressive Clerk
(in the little room next to
mine) requesting persons who
have called to '' settle up that
other little matter." Then
the strange voice laughs, and
says—"Oh, your Governor
can wait." "No, he can't,"
—it's the Clerk who says this
—"it's been going on for
three years, now." "Well,"
chimes in the unknown, "let
it go a bit longer. When '11
your Governor have settled " Looks like a Prime Minister in reduced
those pleadings?" "When circumstances."
your people settle about the five guineas, and not before," replies the
Impressive Clerk in his best Parliamentary debating style. Then
follows a long wrangle, not on law, but on finance, which never—as
far as I can judge—ends in the Clerk getting his way, and his money.

Astonishing event happens. A real live new brief comes in!
Impressive Clerk—who looks like a Prime Minister in reduced cir-
cumstances—brings it to Fibbins when I am in the room. More
impressive than ever. "From Rogers, in Chancery Lane — an
excellent firm, Sir," he says. Poor Fibbins tries, ineffectually, to
conceal his delight, and his eye turns instinctively to the place where
the fee is marked.

" Six guas " (legal slang for guineas) " for an Opinion, not bad,"
he comments, rubbing his hands. Fibbins dusts a corner of his desk,
and lays it down there.

Jam given this precious brief, and am asked to write a " draft
Opinion" about it! "Just to try your hand," says Fibbins, who
does not wish me to be conceited. Then I '11 write my own after-
wards," he adds.

I make a very elaborate commentary, quoting from innumerable
parallel cases in English, American, and Roman law, and, after
giving it to Dick Fibbins to read, I don't see it ag-ain.

But, a few afternoons later, when Impressive Clerk happens to be
out, a knock comes. Nobody in. At last, go myself (Query—
infra dig. ?) and open door.

"Here!" says a juvenile, who apparently mistakes me for the
Clerk, and rudely chucks some papers to me, which hit me in the
chest, "give these to your Governor. What a time you take

answering a knock! Having a nap, hay ? Take care old Fibbins
don't catch you at it, that's all! " Juvenile disappears downstairs,
whistling, before I can think of a suitable rejoinder.

Open the papers. The same brief returned with request to " draw
up a Statement of Claim,"—and my " Opinion" inside! It looks as
if Dick sent these clients of his my valuable advice, pretending that
it was his own !

My learned "leader," when he comes in, treats affair very coolly.

" Oh, did I send your ' Opinion ' to them as well as mine't What
an ass I am ! I wonder what they thought of it r "

I also wonder. In looking over the returned brief just now, how-
ever, I certainly did not come across the " Opinion," manufactured
by Fibbins himself, of which that learned Counsel spoke. And I
have no second chance of examining it, as he is careful to take " all
the documents in the case" (a phrase of the Impressive Clerk's)
home with him, for what he calls re-perusal.

The conviction that it ivas my Opinion, and mine alone, which
Fibbins dispatched, probably out of sheer laziness, to Rogers & Co.,
Solicitors, Chancery Lane, is one that I still retain. But it is
Fibbins who retains the fee !

AT THE CLOSE OE THE SUMMER

(By one who idled. To his Lady-help.)

I am back at my work, which is far from exciting

After nothing to do for a month at a time,
So I am not astonished to find myself writing

To you, dear Melenda, and writing in rhyme.
In my rooms very often the scent of the heather

Brings back with it sweet recollections, and so
I think of the da}-s when we idled together,

Far away in the country a fortnight ago.

Yes, the two afternoons when, although we were sorry

That it rained, we went out as to do we had vowed,
And the wonderful echo we found in a quarry

That took what we whispered and said it aloud.
Whilst we wandered through fern-laden hedges and talked, it

So happened a dragon-fly flew by your side.
You remember, I'm sure, how you laughed as I stalked it,

And how it seemed hurt, as it finally died.

Then I think of our pic-nic. The sunshine came glinting,

And we thought that the summer had come—come to stay.
We did not walk too fast, you were constantly hinting

You were really afraid we were losing our way.
I seemed to be catching two glimpses of heaven,

As I gazed at the sky and kept looking at you ;
For the party that started by being just seven

Had a curious habit of shrinking to two.

Why, that's quite sentimental. It isn't the fashion

To write of such things in so high flown a style.
Yet maybe I'm entitled to so much of passion

As to say that you won me outright with your smile.
Though a merciless fate may not let it befall so,

For Ave know not at all what there may be in store,
Yet next year, if you 're down there—and I am there also,

Shall we do what we did in the summer before ?

"To Err is Human."—"Even I am not always infallible,"
observed Mr. P., on noticing that, in the dialogue under a picture,
last week, the spelling of "cover-coat" for " covert-coat" had
escaped his eagle eye. Just as he was wondering to himself how
such things could be, his other and eagler eye caught this line in the
correspondence, per "Dalziel," from Chicago, in the Times for
Sept. 23:—" Great Britain has chosen a sight for her buildings at
the World's Fair." If "taken " had been substituted for "chosen,"
the mistake might have borne a satirical meaning. No doubt Great
Britain has not made any error as to the site she has selected, from
any point of view.

mem. in colours.

Man's life is in two colours, simply told :

Green while you 're young, and grey when you are old.

Domestic Cookery.—(For a future Xew Edition of'" Mrs. Glasse-
with-care.")—It will contain suggestions for new dishes, to be
arranged according to grammatical divisions of gender and number,
as "case" already exists. A specimen of the first will be Z'ne
Femme-lette, a female companion dish to Vn 'Ommelet. Another
example proposed is La Petite Marmite and Le Petit Pa'mite, two
dishes most suitable for a very smaU family party ; say of dwarf
Troglodytes. "Number" of dishes must always be "a party
question ; " though at the same time politics will be rigidly excluded
from the new publication.

(J^* NOTICE.—Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS., Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, will
in no case be returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and Addressed Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. To this ral»
there will be no exception.
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Punch
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Punch
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Partridge, Bernard
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um 1891
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1886 - 1896
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London

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Punch, 101.1891, October 3, 1891, S. 168

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