The Puddleford Papers Part 21

"Suppose," said I, "a man dies, and leaves a widow, and that widow should claim--"

"Hold on, right there!" exclaimed Ike, laying down his pipe. "Hold on, old _fel_low; this s'posin' don't do in this 'ere office. I never gives opinions on fancy cases. Time's little too precious. I want the raal facts on the matter, jest as they happened; and, besides, Mr. ----, fust thing I know I shall give an opinion right b.u.t.t agin one of my clients--(I have reg'lar clients, you see, that I've got ter stand up for, if it busts me),--and this wheelin' round and taking a back track spiles one's reputation, and tears his conscience, awful to behold!"

"Well," I continued, "as I was goin' to say--"

"No, sir-ee! you _ain't_ goin' to say. _Who_ died? _who's_ the widow? Them are the startin' pints in a new country."

"But," continued I, "that will not affect the principle."

"Won't it, though?" answered Ike. "What are principles to folks in a new country? What are residents to non-residents? Why, you take a resident widow, a little good-lookin', and she can hold all the land she claims agin a non-resident. Juries have feelin's, and are human like other people."

"O, I see!" said I.

"Jest so," said he.

"Well, then," I continued, "the widow is a resident of Puddleford, and so am I; and the widow claims a life interest in one third of my land."

Ike pondered, and rubbed his head, and looked for a long time steadily at the toes of his boots. At last a thought struck him.

"Has she any children?" inquired he.

"She has."

"Young?"

"Twelve and fourteen."

"Bad age for you," said Ike; "worse than two positive witnesses swearin'

straight inter yer favor."

"But what have children to do with a principle of law?" I exclaimed, somewhat animated.

"_You're_ green," exclaimed Ike; "you'll sprout if you get catched in a shower. What has law got ter do with a widder and two children out here?

Don't you know the widder and the two children will be put right straight to the jury, and that they'll swamp you and your case, and all the la' you can bring agin 'em?"

"Very likely," said I; "but is Puddleford law all made for widows, babies, and residents?" inquired I.

"You see," continued Ike; "you hain't lived long here. A new country is a kind of self-sustainin' machine. We've all got-ter go in for ourselves.

When folks take the brunt of settlin' wild land, somebody's got-ter and ought-ter suffer. Non-residents have ter pay all taxes. They have to pay onto the value, and onto our takin' care of their lands. We can't afford to scare off the animals and bring their property into market for nothin'.

Why, old Sykes, who lives away down to the east'ard, pays half the taxes of Puddleford, and don't own more than four sections of land. The 'sessors kind-er look at the spirit of the law when they lay taxes, and the spirit of our tax-law stretches 'cordin' to circ.u.mstances. India-rubber ain't nothin' to it. Jest so in la' matters. The la' is favorable to Puddlefordians; our courts lean that way--it's kind-er second nater to 'em--a kind-er law of self-preservation--primary law of natur', you know--a duty; and therefore I was particular to know who the _person_ was who claimed your land."

"Mine's a case," said I, after Ike concluded his digression, "of Puddleford against Puddleford."

"Puddleford against itself, both residents--a woman and two children against a man?"

"That's the case," said I.

"Well!" said Ike.

"The widow claims a life interest, and yet she signed the deed with her husband."

"_Did_ sign it?" inquired Ike again. "What is she growlin' about, then?"

"She claims she was deranged."

"And didn't know nothin', ha?"

"And she says she can prove it."

"That is, Sile Bates can for her, I s'pose."

Squire Longbow dropped in at this point of the conversation. Ike arose, walked several times swiftly across the floor, turning each time with a jerk, and finally wheeling up in front of me, said his fee for opinions was one dollar.

The fee was paid.

"Now," exclaimed Ike, pushing his fee in his vest pocket, "who's the woman?"

"Old Mrs. Bridget," said I.

"There are just half a dozen defences," exclaimed Ike; "and each one will blow the case sky-high. n.o.body can't set up insanity in a new country, because there ain't nothin' here to make anybody insane; and if there was, our judges and juries think a leetle too much of themselves, thick as the bushes are, to 'low a Puddlefordian to prove herself a fool in open court.

There is a pride that won't permit it. Yes, _sir_!" Here Ike slapped the table hard by way of emphasis. "Ain't that la', Squire Longbow?" continued Ike, turning round to the Squire, who was almost magnetized by intense thought.

The Squire gave two or three ahems to clear his throat, and his voice seemed a long time on its way. "That," said the Squire, "is just what the 'mortal Story said; he never would permit a man to make a fool of himself; he went agin all such kind-er things. The 'mortal Story said, if a man don't know nothin', he oughten-ter say nothin', or do nothin'. He very specially said it warn't a safe rule to let crazy folks rip up things, 'cause how do we know, or anybody know, but they are jist as crazy when they rip 'em up, and then they'll have to be ripped over agin; that's the 'thority, sir--page--let me see--but no matter 'bout pages--"

"And, secondly," continued Ike, breaking into the Squire, "it's a rule of law that everybody's stopped by their deed; and if the woman knowed enough to sign and seal it, that 'ere seal is an everlasting and eternal bar to provin' anything agin it. _That'll_ stop a crazy woman; that's laid down in all the books since King Richard got possession of England, and the staterts are full on it, too."

The Squire said "that looked reasonable. How do we know that Andrew Jackson warn't crazy when he signed off the patents for Puddleford. That's an open question yet. And if it warn't for the broad seal--if it warn't for that 'ere spread eagle--some whig President (and the whigs allers did say 'Old Hickory' was crazy) would set it all aside, and throw all the land t.i.tles into hotch-potch, kick me out-er house and home, and ruin all Puddleford!"

"Certainly," said I.

"And agin," said Ike, "the woman _warn't_ crazy; _I_ can prove that."

"That will _do_," said I. "How?"

"When was the deed executed?"

I stated.

"That's jest the time," said Ike, "that old covy, her brother-in-law, used her as a witness to recover his farm."

The Squire said that "the woman was under _oath_ then, and she might tell the truth, if she _was_ a little shattered."

"Th-u-n-der!" exclaimed Ike.

"Witnesses are _sworn_ to tell the truth," said the Squire.

The Squire was evidently getting quizzical. Mr. Turtle begged "he would not interrupt him agin. The case was one of great importance, and it required a power of thought and research to look inter it.

"And now," continued Ike, "there are three more p'ints of la' in your case.