re.

"It is a very singular application," remarked Mr. Crackles thoughtfully.

"I hope the request will not bring ridicule upon the firm," rejoined
Mr. Vellum.

BOOK III

WHAT THE PUBLIC HEARD ABOUT

CHAPTER X

THE LION GOES TO COURT

There was a curious hush of expectancy one early autumn afternoon in
Court X., about to be presided over by Mr. Justice Chatty.

Outside in the streets London was suffering from partial darkness,
which is not infrequently the case, so a number of the lights in Court
had been lit, and although they burned a somewhat dull amber, the
lighting was sufficient to outline a truly remarkable scene.

Mr. Justice Chatty, the Judge, had not yet entered and taken his seat,
so that the expectant hush which had momentarily crept over the Court
was all the more remarkable by way of contrast to the series of rushes
which had gone before this state of calm.

Something approaching a small riot had taken place before the doors of
the Court had been opened. Crowds of curiosity-loving people, having
stationed themselves outside for hours, and who had even thoughtfully
provided themselves with sandwiches, now fought and kicked and
struggled in solid wedges to find a place, and even roundly abused the
police who controlled the doors when they were thrust away. The public
have an unfortunate habit of becoming abusive whenever "House Full" is
announced, after bravely enduring the probationary martyrdom of waiting
hours for one of their favoured entertainments to start.

The belief that the Judge was about to take his seat was found to be a
false alarm, so the hum and hubbub inside the Court recommenced with
renewed activity. The solicitors chattered at their table like
magpies. The leading barristers turned over their briefs and snapped
out replies to the other barristers with them, and fidgeted with their
gowns. Everybody glared at everybody else in the amber-lighted Court,
but however eagerly they talked, and wherever they looked, the eyes of
every one in Court always returned to stare in amazement and wondering
curiosity upon one object. In the body of the Court, looming out of
the dimness, the head fully illuminated, was the enormous statue of a
bronze lion upon its stone pedestal.

"Most extraordinary case in my recollection," drawled a junior
barrister to one of his fellows who was flattened beside him; "no
wonder there is no room in Court with that ridiculous thing stuck
ther