University of Virginia Library

44. CHAPTER XLIV.

It was “an honour that I dreamed not of,” to be
called before this same squire Jenkins in his dignified
capacity of “Justas.” I had not even heard a murmur
of the coming storm, when I was served with a
subpœna, and learned at the same time the astounding
fact, that at least half the Montacute Female Beneficent
Society were about to receive a shilling's worth
of law on the same occasion. A justice court!

but there was no remedy.

The court was to be held at the Squire's, and as Mrs.
Jenkins was a particular friend of mine, I went early,
intending to make her a call before the awful hour
should approach, and hoping that in the interval I
might be able to learn something of the case in which

I was expected to play the important part of witness.

But good Mrs. Jenkins, who was in her Sunday
gown and looked very solemn, considered herself bound
to maintain an official mysteriousness of deportment,
and she therefore declined entering upon the subject
which was so soon to come under the cognizance of
“the good people of this state.” All she would be persuaded
to say was, that it was a slander suit, and that
she believed “women-folks” were at the bottom of it.

But ere long the more prominent characters of the
drama began to drop in. Mrs. Flyter and her “old
man,” and two babies were among the first, and the
lady looked so prodigiously sulky, that I knew she was
concerned in the fray at least. Then entered Squire
Jenkins himself, clean shaved for once, and arrayed in
his meetin' coat. He asked his wife where the pen and
ink was, and said he should want some paper to write
down the “dispositions.”

And the next comer was the plaintiff, the Schneider
of our village, no Robin Starveling he, but a magnificent
Hector-looking fellow, tall enough to have commanded
Frederick of Prussia's crack regiment; and so
elegantly made, that one finds it hard to believe his
legs have ever been crossed on a shop-board. The
beetle-brows of this stitching hero were puckered like
the seams of his newest 'prentice, and he cast magnanimous
glances round the assembly, as who should
say—

Though the rock was but slenderly represented by Mrs.
Jenkins's bureau, against which he leaned.

The world now began to flock in. The chairs were
soon filled, and then the outer edges of the two beds.
Three young pickles occupied the summit of the
bureau, to the imminent jeopardy of the mirrored
clock which shone above it. Boards were laid to eke
out the chairs, and when the room was packed so that
not a chink remained, a sensation was created by the
appearance of Mrs. Nippers and Miss Clinch. Much
turning out and tumbling over was now to be done, although
those active ladies appeared less than usually
desirous of attracting attention.

All was at length ready, and the squire opened the
court by blowing his nose without calling upon his
pocket handkerchief.

What was my surprise when I learned that our
“most magnanimous mouse,” Mr. Shafton, the tailor,
had been set down a thief; and that Mr. Flyter had
been called on, by the majesty of law, to answer for the
calumny; not that he had ever thought of bringing
such a charge against his neighbour, for he was a silent
man, who always had his mouth too full of tobacco
to utter slander, or any thing else; but that his lady,
on a certain occasion where women had convened in
aid of one of the afflicted sisterhood, had, most “unprudently,”
as she said herself, given vent to certain
angry feelings towards Mr. Shafton, “in manner as
aforesaid.” To think of bringing a woman into
trouble for what she happened to say after tea! I began
to consider Mr. Shafton as no more than the ninth
part of a man, after all.

Things went on very quietly for a while. The
“dispositions” occupied a good deal of time, and a vast
amount of paper; the scribe finding the pen less germane
to his fingers than the plough, and making his
lines bear no small resemblance to the furrows made
by a “breaking-up team.” But when the ladies began
to figure on the stage, the aspect of affairs was altered.
Each wished to tell “the truth, the whole truth, and
nothing but the truth;” and to ask one question, elicited
never less than one dozen answers; the said answers
covering a much larger ground than the suit itself,
and bringing forward the private affairs and opinions
of half the village. In vain did Mr. Jenkins roar
“silence!” his injunctions only made the ladies angry,
and of course gave their tongues a fresh impetus.

“Cabbage! yes, you said he took a quarter of a yard
of satinett, and that that was as bad as stealing!”
“Yes! and then Miss Flyter said he did steal cloth,
and thread and buttons too!” “Well, Miss Nippers
told me so, and she said she see a chair-cushion at
Miss Shafton's, that was made all out of great pieces
of fulled cloth!” “Who? I? oh, mercy! I do n't believe
I ever said such a word!” “Oh you did, you did!
I'm willin' to take my afferdavy of it!” “Silence!”
vociferated Squire Jenkins. “Ladies,” began Mr.
Phlatt, the plaintiff's counsel, “if you would wait a
minute”—

In vain do ye assay to control
And Mr. Phlatt sat down in despair, looked out of the
window, and drummed on the table with his fingers, as
if to pass away the time till he could be heard.

Squire Jenkins, who was but newly dignified, and did
not like to proceed to extremities, now adjourned the
court for one hour, a recess much needed by the exhausted
state of some of the witnesses. During this
interval, and while the wordy war was waxing stronger
and stronger, Mr. Flyter and Mr. Shafton very wisely
withdrew, and in less than five minutes returned, and
informed the company that they had “settled it.” Mr.
Flyter was to pay Mr. Shafton three dollars and fifty
cents worth of lumber for his character, with costs of
suit; and Mrs. Flyter was to unsay all she had said,
and confess that three yards of satinett for a pair of
pantaloons, would leave the tailor no more than his
regular cabbage.

So here was four hours' time of something near thirty
people spent to good purpose in chasing a Will-o'-the-wisp.
And Montacute sees equally important suits at
law every few weeks; expensive enough, if “settled”
midway as they often are, between the parties themselves;
still more so if left to pursue the regular course,
and be decided by the Justice.

The intelligence of the “settlement” was received
with various aspects by the persons concerned. The
counsel on both sides were of course disappointed, for
they had calculated largely upon the spunk of the
splendid-looking son of the shears, and had counted on
a jury-trial at least, if not an appeal. Mrs. Flyter
was evidently much relieved to find that she had come
off so easily; and sundry other ladies, who had been
trembling under the consciousness of conversational

“sins unwhipped of justice,” shawled and India-rubbered
with more than usual alacrity, and I doubt not,
made vows, sincere, whether well-kept or not, to let
their neighbours' business alone for some time.

Mr. Jenkins was evidently disappointed at the tame
result of so much glorious preparation. He had made
up his own mind on the first statement of the case, and
had prepared his decision, with the addition of a concise
view of the universe from chaos to the present day.
But that will do for the next time, and he will not be
obliged to reserve it long. Bartholine Saddletree
himself would weary of the “never-ending, still-beginning”
law-pleas of Montacute. Bad fences, missing
dogs, unruly cattle, pigs' ears, and women's tongues,
are among the most prolific sources of litigation; to
say nothing of the satisfactory amount of business
which is created by the collection of debts, a matter of
“glorious uncertainty” in Michigan. These suits are
so frequent, that they pass as part and parcel of the regular
course of things; and you would find it impossible
to persuade a thorough-bred Wolverine, that there was
any thing unfriendly in suing his next door neighbour
for a debt of however trifling amount.

Actions for trespass and for slander are rather more
enjoyed, as being somewhat less frequent; but any
thing like a trial, will always be enough to keep half
a dozen unconcerned people idle for a day or more.

Mr. Shafton's spirited defence of his fair fame will,
I see plainly, prove a lasting benefit to the talking sex
of Montacute. It is perfectly incredible how much
was done and how little said at the last week's meeting
of the Female Beneficent Society. Mrs. Nippers to

be sure had the ague, and did her chattering at home,
and Miss Clinch staid to take care of her, as in duty
bound. But I think that alone would not account for
the difference. We shall see next week.