I make a very elaborate commentary, quoting from innumerable parallel cases
in English, American, and Roman law, and, after giving it to DICK FIBBINS
to read, I don't see it again.

But, a few afternoons later, when Impressive Clerk happens to be out, a
knock comes. Nobody in. At last, go myself (_Query_--infra dig.?) and open
door.

"Here!" says a juvenile, who apparently mistakes me for the Clerk, and
rudely chucks some papers to me, which hit me in the chest, "give these to
your Governor. What a time you take answering a knock! Having a nap, hay?
Take care old FIBBINS don't catch you at it, that's all!" Juvenile
disappears downstairs, whistling, before I can think of a suitable
rejoinder.

Open the papers. The same brief returned with request to "draw up a
Statement of Claim,"--and my "Opinion" inside! It looks as if DICK sent
these clients of his _my_ valuable advice, pretending that it was his own!

My learned "leader," when he comes in, treats affair very coolly.

"Oh, did I send _your_ 'Opinion' to them as well as mine? What an ass I am!
I wonder what they thought of it?"

I also wonder. In looking over the returned brief just now, however, I
certainly did not come across the "Opinion," manufactured by FIBBINS
himself, of which that learned Counsel spoke. And I have no second chance
of examining it, as he is careful to take "all the documents in the case"
(a phrase of the Impressive Clerk's) home with him, for what he calls