The Tale of Lal Part 37

"Now, sir, are you not the author of the song, the ballad, the bosh, whatever you like to call it, that we have all been compelled to listen to in Court this afternoon?"

"Yes and No."

"Don't prevaricate, sir; which is it, yes or no?"

"Both."

"I warn you, sir, I warn you; what do you mean by both?"

"What I say."

"Then kindly say what you mean, sir; you must mean one or the other if you mean anything; you cannot mean both."

"I rearranged the song you refer to only from hearsay."

"Oh, indeed, sir, pray who is the original author?"

"The Griffin."

"Kindly stop talking nonsense, sir; it is bad enough to have to suffer it from an over-imaginative child, from a grown-up person it is intolerable. Do you suppose we are going to have the Griffin brought into Court in addition to the Lion?"

"I hope so."

"Indeed, indeed, sir, why do you hope so?"

"Well, judging from the Griffin's characteristics we have heard so well described this afternoon, he must be feeling green with envy that he has not received a summons here."

"You are pleased to joke, sir, and you are attempting to be elusive, but you will not slip through the fine meshes of evidence woven by the law in that way. Kindly examine that paper!"

Small piece of dirty paper pa.s.sed to witness--

Witness smiles.

"Is that your handwriting, sir?"

"Certainly."

"And the composition of the words are yours?"

"No, only touched up from the Griffin's original."

Mr. Dreadful, bellowing, stamping, and banging his hand upon table all at one and the same time--

"The wretched Griffin is left entirely out of this case, sir."

"It is a thousand pities; he would have enjoyed it so."

"My Lord, I will venture to read this fragment mercifully dropped in Court by the child confederate of this slippery witness: it is headed _Chorus_, my lord; it doubtless forms a last part to the ridiculous song we all listened to in pained surprise. I contend, my Lord, that this fragment which has come into my possession is seditious; seditious, my Lord."

"Well, well, let us hear it," his Lordship adding hastily: "No, no, don't sing it, read it."

"My Lord, your injunction to me is unnecessary; indeed, my Lord, I lack all training enabling me to sing, I am thankful to say, but what is more to the point, my Lord, I almost lack the necessary self-control to read these seditious words unmoved by indignation. However, my Lord, I will make an effort." Counsel reads: "'Oh, my poor tender feet.'"

(t.i.tters in Court.)

_His Lordship_. "Well, well, that is harmless enough, the Griffin complained of that, you remember."

_Counsel_. "My Lord, I know nothing of the Griffin, and care less whether he complained or what he complained of, but, my Lord, it is I who complain, and rightly so, when the majesty of the law of England is mocked at. Listen, my Lord and Gentlemen of the Jury, to the following lines, and their harmful wickedness--

"Of what use are England's laws Unless they protect my claws, And keep me warm in the street?

What snuffy old Judge in Court, Ever gives my poor feet a thought; Ever thinks of the snows and frosts, Or adds up my bill of costs?"

(t.i.tters in Court from the juniors.)

"There, my Lord," thundered Counsel, "can any one hear this iniquitous doc.u.ment unmoved, these wantonly wicked lines mocking alike at Law and Order, even at your Lordship's own almost sacred calling."

_His Lordship_. "A highly offensive and seditious doc.u.ment; impound it, Mr. Dreadful, and continue your examination of witnesses, please; time goes on."

"Now, sir," exploded Mr. Dreadful, "the Court, having with shame listened to your ribald effusion, I will ask you what you had to drink upon the night you and the Lord Mayor were found wandering under extraordinary circ.u.mstances in Trafalgar Square?"

"To drink--I personally? Nothing."

"What did you have in the house, sir, at the time?"

"Oh, the usual things."

"Don't equivocate, sir; how does the Court know what you may consider usual in your ill-regulated household. What did the Lord Mayor partake of during the period he was in your company, in your rooms, before going out to chase a lady who was under the impression she was a Russian dancer--round Trafalgar Square, and before proceeding to play bo-peep with one of the lions, placed in that Square to ornament it,--what, I ask, sir, did the Lord Mayor partake of by way of refreshment?"

"Oh, two tiny gla.s.ses of Creme-de-Menthe."

_Counsel_ (triumphantly). "I knew it; at last, my Lord, we have the mystery explained. The mystery of the Lion's green eyes, the strangeness of the Lord Mayor's att.i.tude, the strangeness of his speech, his dress, all due, my Lord and Gentlemen of the Jury, to Creme-de-Menthe! My Lord, that one phrase explains this whole mystery, and with it I finish my statement of this case, my Lord, finish it with those three, deadly, green, significant words--Creme-de-Menthe."

Whereupon, to everybody's relief, the pompom explosions of Mr. Dreadful ceased. The last sh.e.l.l had been fired, followed by the usual whistles, and he sat down.

The silky tones of Mr. Gentle Gammon came as a positive relief as he re-examined and asked gently--

"Have you got the particular bottle of Creme-de-Menthe in Court?"

The Writer said he had brought it.

The bottle was fetched promptly.

"My Lord," observed Mr. Gentle Gammon, "I do not think the amount taken could possibly have had any effect upon anybody. Your Lordship observes that the bottle is nearly full, and the bottle produced is the identical vessel used upon the evening in question. Was any other sort of refreshment partaken of that evening in your chambers?"

"None whatever."

"One more question before you go. Of course this ballad, rearranged, as you say, from the original by you, was written without any thought of giving offence?"