and counsel were exhilarated, the business was proportionately
accelerated. But of all the men I had the pleasure of meeting on
these occasions, the one who gave me the best idea of rapidity in an
after-dinner case was Mirehouse.

Let me illustrate it by a trial which I heard. Jones was the name of
the prisoner. His offence was that of picking pockets, entailing, of
course, a punishment corresponding in severity with the barbarity of
the times. It was not a plea of "Guilty," when perhaps a little more
inquiry might have been necessary; it was a case in which the prisoner
solemnly declared he was "Not Guilty," and therefore had a right to be
tried.

The accused having "held up his hand," and the jury having solemnly
sworn to hearken to the evidence, and "to well and truly try, and true
deliverance make," etc., the witness for the prosecution climbs into
the box, which was like a pulpit, and before he has time to look round
and see where the voice comes from, he is examined as follows by the
prosecuting counsel:--

"I think you were walking up Ludgate Hill on Thursday, 25th, about
half-past two in the afternoon, and suddenly felt a tug at your pocket
and missed your handkerchief, which the constable now produces. Is
that it?"

"Yes, sir."

"I suppose you have nothing to ask him?" says the judge. "Next
witness."