No. V

Justice Pettifog.

In the morning the Clockmaker informed me that a Justice's
Court was to be held that day at Pugnose's Inn, and he
guessed be could do a little business among the country
folks that would be assembled there. Some of them, he
said, owed him for clocks, and it would save him a world
of travelling, to have the Justice and Constable to drive
them up together. If you want a fat wether, there's
nothing like penning up the whole flock in a corner. I
guess, said he, if General Campbell knew what sort of a
man that are magistrate was, he'd disband him pretty
quick: he's a regular suck egg--a disgrace to the country.
I guess if he acted that way in Kentucky, he'd get a
breakfast of cold lead some morning, out of the small
eend of a rifle, he'd find pretty difficult to digest.
They tell me he issues three hundred writs a year, the
cost of which, including that tarnation Constable's fees,
can't amount to nothing less than 3,000 dollars per annum.
If the Hon. Daniel Webster had him afore a jury, I reckon
he'd turn him inside out, and slip him back again, as
quick as an old stocking. He'd paint him to the life, as
plain to be known as the head of Gineral Jackson. He's
jist a fit feller for Lynch law, to be tried, hanged,
and damned, all at once--there's more nor him in the