friends. True as steel!"

"You're a trump!" returned Judge Lyman, with low familiarity.
"Never fear about the Poor-house and Uncle Josh. They're all
safe."

"But look here, judge," resumed the man. "It isn't only the Poor-
house, the jail is to go next."

"Indeed!"

"Yes, that's their talk; and I guess they ain't far out of the
way, neither. What takes men to jail? You can tell us something
about that, judge, for you've jugged a good many in your time.
Didn't pretty much all of 'em drink rum (hic)?"

But the judge answered nothing.

"Silence (hic) gives consent," resumed Grimes. "And they say more;
once give 'em the upper hand--and they're confident of beating us
--and the Courthouse will be to let. As for judges and lawyers,
they'll starve, or go into some better business. So you see, (hic)
judge, your liberties are in danger. But fight hard, old fellow;
and if you must die, (hic) die game!"

How well Judge Lyman relished this mode of presenting the case,
was not very apparent; he was too good a politician and office-
seeker, to show any feeling on the subject, and thus endanger a
vote. Harry Grimes' vote counted one, and a single vote sometimes
gained or lost an election.