The Humourous Story of Farmer Bumpkin's Lawsuit Part 61

"Tom, Tom," said Mrs. b.u.mpkin, "don't be in a rage."

"Who be thic feller on my rick?"

"I beant any more a feller nor thee, Maister Boompkin; it aint thy rick nuther."

"Then in the name of h-, whose be it?"

"It be Maister Skinalive's; thee can't have t' cake an eat un; thee sowled it to un."

"It be a lie, a --- lie; come down!"

"Noa, noa, I beant coomin doon till I coot all t' hay; it be good hay an all, as sweet as a noot."

"Where is thy master?" enquired Mrs. b.u.mpkin.

"I dooant rightly knoo, missus, where ur be; but I think if thee could see un, he'd poot it right if thee wanted time loike, and so on, for he be a kind-hearted man enoo."

"Can we find un, do ur think?" asked Mrs. b.u.mpkin.

"If thee do, missus, it wur moor un I bin able to do for the last three moonths."

"I'll find some un," said Mr. b.u.mpkin; "here, goo and fetch a pleeceman."

This was said to a small boy who did the bird-minding, and was now looking on with his mouth wide open, and his eyes actually shedding tears.

"Ah, fetch a pleeceman an all," said the man, thrusting the big hay-knife down into the centre of the rick; "but take a soop o' cyder, maister; I dessay thee feels a bit out o' sorts loike."

"Thee darn thief; it be my cyder, too, I've a notion."

"How can it be thine, maister, when thee ha' sowled un?" said the man with his unanswerable logic: "haw! haw! haw!"

Mrs. b.u.mpkin held her husband's hand, and tried her hardest to keep him from using violence towards the man. She felt the convulsive twitches of his strong muscles, and the inward struggle that was shaking his stalwart frame. "Come away, Tom; come away; let un do as they like, we'll have them as will see us righted yet. There's law for un, surely."

"It beant no use to kick, maister," said the man, again ramming the knife down into the rick as though he were cutting Mr. b.u.mpkin himself in half, and were talking to him the while; "it beant no use to kick, maister.

Here thee be; thee owes the man the money, and can't pay, so ur does this out of kindness to prevent thee being sowled oop loike."

"Here be the pleeceman," said Mrs. b.u.mpkin.

Mr. b.u.mpkin turned suddenly, and shouted, "Tak thic thief into custody."

The policeman, albeit a country constable, was a very sensible man; and seeing how matters stood, he very wisely set himself to the better task of taking Mr. b.u.mpkin into custody without appearing to do so, and without Mr. b.u.mpkin knowing it.

"Now," said he, "if so be as you will come indoors, Mr. b.u.mpkin, I think we can put our heads together and see what can be done in this 'ere case; if it's stealing let him steal, and I'll have him nicely; but if it ain't stealing, then I woant have him at all." (A pause.)

"For why?" (A pause.)

"Because the law gives you other remedies."

"That be right, pleeceman," said b.u.mpkin; "I'll goo wi' thee. Now then, Nancy, let's goo; and look 'ere, thee thief, I'll ha' thee in th' jail yet."

The man grinned with a mouth that seemed to have been cut with his own hay-knife, so large was it, and went on with his work, merely saying: "I dooant charge thee nothin for cootin' nor yet for bindin, maister; I does it all free graatis, loike."

"Thee d--- thief, thee'll be paid."

So they went in, and the policeman was quite a comforter to the poor old man. He talked to him about what the law was on this point and that point, and how a trespa.s.s was one thing, and a breach of the peace another; and how he mustn't take a man up for felony just because somebody charged him: otherwise, the man on the rick might have charged Mr. b.u.mpkin, and so on; till he got the old man into quite a discussion on legal points. But meanwhile he had given him another piece of advice, which was also much to his credit, and that was to send to his solicitor, Mr. Prigg. Mr. Prigg was accordingly sent for; but, like most good men, was very scarce. Nowhere could Mr. Prigg be found. But it was well known, for it was advertised everywhere on large bills, that the excellent gentleman would take the chair at a meeting, to be held in the schoolroom in the evening, for the propagation of Christianity among the Jews. The policeman would be on duty at that meeting, and he would be sure to see Mr. Prigg, and tell him Mr. b.u.mpkin was very desirous to see him as early as possible on the following day. Mr. b.u.mpkin was thankful, and to some extent pacified. As the policeman wished them goodnight, Mrs. b.u.mpkin accompanied him to the door, and begged, if he wouldn't mind, that he would look in to-morrow, for he seemed a kind of protection for them.

It was about three in the afternoon of the following day when good Mr.

Prigg drove up to Mr. b.u.mpkin's door; he drove up with the mare that had been Mr. b.u.mpkin's cow.

"Here he be," said Mrs. b.u.mpkin; and if Mr. Prigg had been an angel from heaven, his presence could not have been more welcome. Oh, what sunshine he seemed to bring! Was it a rainbow round his face, or was it only his genial Christian smile? His collar was perfect, so was his tie; his head immoveable, so were his principles. "Dear, dear!" said Mrs. b.u.mpkin, "I be so glad thee be come, Mr. Prigg-here be master takin' on so as never was; I never see'd anything like it."

"What's the matter, my dear lady?" inquired the good man.

"Be that loryer Prigg?" shouted a voice from the inner room.

"Aye, aye, Tom, it be Mr. Prigg."

"Come in, zur," said the voice, "come in; I be mighty glad to see thee.

Why dam-"

"Hush!" remonstrated the diffuser of Christianity among the Jews; "hush!"

and his hands were softly raised in gentle protest-albeit his head never turned so much as a hair's breadth. "Let us be calm, my dear sir, let us be calm. We win by being calm."

"Ah, we winned the lawsuit; didn't us, sir?"

"Ah, that thee did, Tom!" exclaimed Mrs. b.u.mpkin, delighted at this momentary gleam of gladness in her husband's broken heart.

"Of course we won," said Mr. Prigg. "Did I ever entertain a doubt from the first about the merits of that case?"

"Thee did not, sir," said Tom; "but lookee 'ere, sir," he continued, in almost a whisper, "I dreamt last night as we lost un; and I see thic Snooks a sn.i.g.g.e.ring as plaain as ever I see'd anybody in my life."

"My dear sir, what matters your dream? We won, sir. And as for Snooks'

sn.i.g.g.e.ring, I am sorry to say he is sold up."

"Sold oop!" exclaimed b.u.mpkin. "Sorry! why beest thee sorry for un-beant thee sorry for I?"

"Sorry you've won, Mr. b.u.mpkin? No; but, I'm sorry for Snooks, because we lose our costs. Oh, that Locust is the greatest dodger I ever met."

"I don't understand thee, sir," said b.u.mpkin. "What d'ye mean by not getting costs-won't ur pay?"

"I fear not," said Mr. Prigg, rubbing his hands. "I am surprised, too, that he should not have waited until the rule for a new trial was argued."

"What the devil be the meaning o' all this?" exclaimed b.u.mpkin.

"Really, really," said the pious diffuser of Christianity, "we must exercise patience; we may get more damages if there should be another trial."

"This be trial enough," said Mr. b.u.mpkin; "and after all it were a trumpery case about a pig."

"Quite so, quite so," said the lawyer, rubbing his hands; "but you see, my dear sir, it's not so much the pig."