"Can we ask a question, Judge?" he said respectfully, although his voice
had the unmistakable Western American ring in it, as of one who was
unconscious that he could be addressing any but his peers.

"Yes," said the Judge good-humoredly.

"We're finding in this yere piece, out o' which the Kernel hes just bin
a-quotin', some language that me and my pardners allow hadn't orter be
read out afore a young lady in court, and we want to know of you--ez a
fa'r-minded and impartial man--ef this is the reg'lar kind o' book given
to gals and babies down at the meetin'-house."

"The jury will please follow the counsel's speech without comment," said
the Judge briefly, fully aware that the defendant's counsel would spring
to his feet, as he did promptly.

"The Court will allow us to explain to the gentlemen that the language
they seem to object to has been accepted by the best theologians for
the last thousand years as being purely mystic. As I will explain later,
those are merely symbols of the Church"--

"Of wot?" interrupted the foreman, in deep scorn.

"Of the Church!"

"We ain't askin' any questions o' YOU, and we ain't takin' any answers,"
said the foreman, sitting down abruptly.

"I must insist," said the Judge sternly, "that the plaintiff's counsel
be allowed to continue his opening without interruption. You" (to