witness's tribune, was a labouring man. He held a paper cap in his hand,
and wore a jacket of flannel. The prisoner glanced at him without seeming
to recognize his friend, whilst the eyes of the young lawyer actually
glistened at the opportunity which had come at last for the display of his
skill.

"What are you, my man?" said the judge in a tone of kindness.

"A journeyman carpenter, please your worship."

"You must say _my lord_--say _my lord_," interposed the bombasin gown.
"Speak out. Si-_lence_!"

"Where do you live?"

"Friar's Place--please you, my lord." The bombasin smiled pitifully at the
ignorance of the witness, and said no more.

"Do you know the prisoner at the bar?"

"About ten weeks ago--please you, my lord, I was hired by the landlord--"

"Answer his lordship, sir," exclaimed the counsel for the prosecution in a
tone of thunder. "Never mind the landlord. Do you know the prisoner?"

"Why, I was a saying, please you, my lord, about ten weeks ago I was hired
by the landlord--"

"Answer directly, sir," continued the animated barrister--"or take the
consequences. Do you know the prisoner?"