University of Virginia Library

8. CHAPTER VIII.
THE LAWYER.

The justice before whom Simmins was arraigned was a shrewd
man of the world and possessed much knowledge of character, for
one who had moved only in the narrow sphere of a country shire-town.
When Simmins was brought before him to receive his sentence,
which was after the rest of the young thieves had got theirs,
his air was so bold and impudent that the justice stared at him for
some minutes, as if he had been inspecting for the first time a
young panther. Simmins returned the look with the utmost coolness
and assurance, and was the first to speak, observing,—

“I 'xpect you mean to know me next time, old 'un.”

“I do indeed, my lad. What is your name?”

“Sim Satchell.”

“You have been caught stealing, and have besides a notorious
character as a universal young reprobate. What reason have you
to offer why I shouldn't commit you?”

“Because I was not caught stealing,” answered the boy, boldly.

“Do you deny it? You were caught with your arms filled with
vegetables and apples and chickens in a bag.”

“That wasn't bein' cocht stealin', old blue nose, responded Simmins,
confidently.

“It amounts to the same thing, you scamp.”

“Not a bit of it. How does eny body know I stole 'em? I
confess, old chap, the officy gripped me a climbin' the fence and the
things in my hands. But he can't prove I stole 'em.”

“Can't? What a brazen-faced little rascal! The vegetables
and chickens were proved to belong to Doctor Bentick, whose garden
you were in.”

“I doubt that. How could he identify vegetables afore he ever
saw 'em dug out o' the ground? and how could he swear to a
chicken bein' his as had been picked? And suppose he did know
'em be hisn', and they was found on us, I'd like to know who'd
swear on the book we hadn't picked up and found 'em a'ter another
thief had stole 'em and throw'd 'em away? Afore you send me to
jail, old spectacles, I'd like to have you and the blessed constybles
here prove as I stole the articles as was found on me. Till they
prove that, I stand here on my rights as a 'merican citizen and a
freeman!”

The squire was altogether confounded by this bold defence and
sophistical argument from a ragamuffin of seventeen; and being a
just man and somewhat conscientious, and by no means versed in
the subtleties of the law, he thought that the lad had presented a
difficulty that could not be got over. He therefore turned to the

constables and the other witnesses present, and called upon them to
know whether they were ready to take oath on the Bible and at
the risk of their soul's salvation, that the prisoner stole the articles
that were found upon him. “I have not the least doubt but that
he did steal them,” added the worthy justice; “but unless you can
make oath to the fact, I shall feel it my duty to acquit him and let
him go.”

Neither of the constables were willing to peril salvation by
making oath to the fact; and the justice turning to the prisoner,
said as follows:—

“Sim Satchell, you are a thief and a rogue, and stole the things;
there is no question about it in my mind. But it can't be sworn to,
and so you are at liberty to go about your business. But first let
me ask you if you wouldn't like to study law with me; for you
will be either a lawyer or a rogue.”

“I see no choice between 'em, old 'un.”

“Well, I want a boy, and I have some old law-books in my
office. I have nothing that you can steal, for I am a bachelor, and
board, and have nothing but what I have on my back. If you have
a mind to come and live with me and try to be honest, it's a bargain.
I can manage you, and I'll promise I'll make an honest
man of you.”

“It's done, squire. I'll live with you and do your chores, if
you'll give me schoolin'.”

“Good! I like that. A boy that wants to learn isn't quite reprobate.
Yes, you shall go to school six months in the year.”

The same evening Simmins Satchell was domiciliated in the
justice's office, where he had a mattrass to sleep on, taking his
meals at the second table at the squire's boarding house. The justice
had said truly there was nothing to steal unless he stole old
newspapers and a thumbed copy of the Revised Statutes, out of
which his honor got all his law learning.

The squire, as the event showed, was not disappointed in his
charge. Simmins took to books with a passion that was truly
wonderful, and betrayed a degree of intelligence that astonished the
town schoolmaster. His advances in study were rapid and
thorough, and the more he learned the less wild and vicious he
was. He literally devoured books, and at the expiration of a year
the master said he “had taught him all he knew.”

The squire now resolved to remove him to an academy, for Simmins
had proved as faithful an errand and office-boy as he had
proved at school; and the squire seeing the talent that he displayed,
congratulated himself on having diverted him from robbing orchards
and hen-roosts into a more honorable channel. Simmins was sent
to the academy at the squire's expense, and at the expiration of
fifteen months was fitted for college. His patron now resolved,
being a man of substance and childless, to adopt him and complete
his work by giving him a university education.

At the age of twenty-three Simmins Satchell graduated from the
university, and with the second honor, the first, which he aimed

for, being carried off by his classmate, George Manning, whom the
reader has already seen as Judge Manning. This defeat he attributed
to partiality and favoritism in behalf of his rival, who was of
a distinguished aristocratic family, while he himself was of no
family, or worse than none. He, therefore, never forgave the university
nor his successful rival. Perhaps his complaint was justly
founded, for until a few weeks previous to the commencement it
was generally believed that Satchell would have the first honor.
His scholarship both in languages and mathematics stood high,—
the highest in his class. But he was unpopular, His manners
were rude and uncivil, and he but little regarded the social amenities
of life. On the other hand, Manning was not only an elegant
scholar but an accomplished gentleman. If partiality was shown,
it was based on feeling rather than from any intention of complimenting
an aristocratic name.

Simmins had a passion for the law, and entered the law school,
where he soon distinguished himself in the moot courts for his eloquence,
close reasoning and legal acumen in debate. George Manning
was in the class with him, and Simmins strove his utmost to
surpass him. Revenge gave brilliancy and power to his eloquence,
and success crowned his exertions in almost every attempt; for
now that Manning, the wealthy and the gifted, had passed with
honor the ordeal of the university, he felt less ambitious of distinction
in the law school, willing to exist on his past honors, and
feeling that he would have years to perfect himself in law, while
kicking his feet for clients. Besides, being rich he felt no spur to
undue exertions. But with Satchell circumstances were different,
and hatred urged him on. He took his degree of law with honor,
and at once went into the city to practice the profession upon the
threshold of which he had entered.

His patron and friend the justice died before he got through the
law-claims, leaving him all his worldly goods, which amounted to
about six thousand dollars. Of this Satchell had four thousand
when he went into town and opened his office in Court street. His
talents had already preceded him, and he had not been in town a
month before as many as six applications or proposals had been
made to him by old established members of the bar to form a copartnership;
for a young talented lawyer is a very desirable acquisition
for an old practitioner. Satchell, however, with that independence
characteristic of him, declined to enter into any such
union, resolving to make his own way by his own merits. He soon
got into a busy and profitable practice, and the future seemed to
hold out to his grasp the highest honors of his profession.

But there existed a moral obstacle to his high advancement; this
was his total deficiency in principles. He had no religious feelings,
nor had he ever given a thought to his Creator. He knew, for he
lived in a Christian land and could not but know, that there was a
God, a Bible, a crucified Saviour, a heaven and hell, and that he
possessed a soul. But these ideas were entertained in his mind
only as vague notions, without any definite reflection upon them.

It was the same to him whether Christ or Mahomet were the Saviour.
It was the same to him whether men believed the Koran or
the Bible. He believed neither. In a word, he was an infidel.
He, therefore, could nave no principle. He who believes not in a
Deity can have no restraint upon his conduct, beyond the fear of
personal inconvenience from the criminal law courts. He will do
what he finds it in his heart to do.

Such a man was Simmins Satchell, Esq. Ambitious, talented,
aspiring to the highest eminence in his profession, he was destined
to fall. He needed Integrity at the helm, and without her he was
wrecked.

In the course of his practice, about seven or eight years after his
admission to the bar, he was appointed executor to an estate, and
also guardian to a ward then within three years of majority. The
dishonest lawyer saw that there was an opportunity through this
executorship of enriching himself and impoverishing the heir. But
to effect this it became necessary to forge certain papers, and to
erase signatures from others. After calculating all the chances of
detection and weighing them against the profit, he resolved to yield
to the temptation, or rather suggestion; for there can be properly
no temptation when the mind is previously prepared to evil. A
suggestion is all that is requisite to be readily adopted.

The forgeries and the erasures were effected in the secresy of his
own chamber, and he felt sure that detection could not follow.

But among Satchell's negligent habits was one of leaving small
silver change and pennies loose upon his table. This display had
more than once caught the sharp eyes of a lad who belonged in the
office upon the floor directly above that occupied by Satchell, and
who was frequently sent by his employer to and fro to the office of
the former on errands. After devising various modes to possess
himself unseen of the coin that he always saw there, more or less
of it, when he called, he at length hit upon a plan. One day, when
Satchell had gone out to an eating-house to dine, as was his custom,
the boy provided with a small gimlet augur, locked himself in his
own office, his master being at dinner, and began to bore a hole
through the floor. In a few minutes he had an orifice through the
plank and the lathe and plastering underneath in which he could
thrust his little finger. Looking down and seeing upon the table
directly beneath a ninepence and three or four fourpences he looked
very well satisfied, and prepared to take possession of them in the
following manner:

From his pocket he took a fishing-line, upon the extremity of
which was secured a heavy leaden sinker. Upon the flat bottom
of this sinker he stuck some very soft and adhesive shoemaker's
wax. He then dropped the plummet thus prepared through the
opening and carefully let it descend over the table. By careful observation
and adroit management of the line he dipped it upon the
quarter of a dollar, and caught the coin up by the wax. He now
raised it up with great joy, when to his disappointment he found on
drawing it up to the hole that it would not by any means pass

through. He therefore had to let it drop, and content himself with
the fourpences, three of which he succeeded in transferring from
the table beneath into his trowsers pocket.

He now drew up his line and stopped the hole in the floor with a
viol cork, which he besmeared so that it should not be observed.
In this manner this ingenious young gentleman of fourteen amused
himself for some days, as often as his observation made known to
him that the lawyer had placed other “fourpences” upon the table.
Mr. Satchell had missed the small coin, but well knowing no one
had been in his office he attributed it to absence of mind on his own
part, supposing that he had taken them up and paid them away.
The large pieces remaining and the small ones only disappearing,
entirely prevented him from suspecting the entrance of a thief.

At length on the day upon which he resolved to execute his forgeries,
he, for greater privacy, carefully curtained his windows and
even filled the key-hole with mashed paper. The young money-lifter
supposing he had gone to dinner, (for Satchell had chosen for
his purpose the dinner hour, when all the lawyers occupying the
building were out,) drew out the cork from his opening, for the
purpose of bobbing for more silver fish. To his surprise he saw
the crown of Satchell's black head beneath. Hoping he would
soon leave, curiosity led him to watch him to see what he was
doing, so that he might form a guess how long he would remain;—
for his own master, a man of small appetite and very industrious,
and withal a great envier of Satchell's large practice, never was
away more than half an hour. There were, as it happened, more
than the usual number of fourpences upon the table, and the fisher
was very impatient to monopolize them. He felt, therefore, very
solicitous for Satchell's departure in time for him to operate. But
he found that he was not likely to go very soon, and after watching
him till he was tired, he got up to stop up the orifice lest his master
should catch him at his pastime. But before he could get off from
his knees his master was at the door. He flew to unlock it, knowing
he could not answer why he had locked it, but the attorney had
already discovered that it was bolted. The boy nevertheless unlocked
it as quickly as possible, and stood before him coloring and
trembling.

“Locking the door!” exclaimed he. “What is this for? what
have you been at?”

“Nothing, sir.”

“Nothing?” and the attorney's quick eye flew round the room,
to see if he could not detect the something he well knew he had
been at. The unlucky cork upon the floor and then the freshly
bored augur-hole caught his glance.

“What is this? what have you been doing, sirrah?” he demanded;
and as he spoke he stooped to examine. He found the hole
went through into the room beneath. He looked down, very
naturally. He saw lawyer Satchell at work over papers with a
pen. He seemed to be practicing signatures. The attorney placed
his eye close and could read the signatures. At length he saw him

make one at the foot of a deed, and then append one to another engraved
paper. He then saw him with his penknife begin to erase
a name from a deed, which name the attorney recognized as that of
the deceased testator.