ead."

His Lordship shrieks in his highest falsetto--

"Remove this witness at once, he is flippant. Order him to stand down,
or I shall commit him for contempt."

Sensation in Court. Mr. Learned Bore leaves the witness-box,
hurriedly, and looking slightly scared.

Mr. Dreadful, K.C., wishing to cover up the _faux pas_ as quickly as
possible, rises and announces in explosive tones--

"Call the Writer."

The Writer entered the witness-box; inclined his head slightly to the
Judge, smiled in the direction of the Lord Mayor, and was immediately
bombarded explosively by Mr. Dreadful, K.C., whose pom-pom-like shells
whistling overhead seemed totally unable to disturb the Writer's serene
calm.

"Now, sir, are you not the author of the song, the ballad, the bosh,
whatever you like to call it, that we have all been compelled to listen
to in Court this afternoon?"

"Yes and No."

"Don't prevaricate, sir; which is it, yes or no?"

"Both."

"I warn you, sir, I warn you; what do you mean by both?"

"What I say."

"Then kindly say what you mean, sir; you must mean one or the other if
you mean anything; you cannot mean both."

"I rearranged the song you refer to only from hearsay."

"Oh, indeed, sir, pray who is the original author?"

"The Griffin."

"Kindly stop talking nonsense, sir; it is bad enough to have to suffer
it from an over-imaginative child, from a grown-up person it is
intolerable. Do you suppose we are going to have the Griffin brought
into Court in addition to the Lion?"

"I hope so."

"Indeed, indeed, sir, why do you hope so?"

"Well, judging from the Griffin's characteristics we have heard so well
described this afternoon, he must be feeling green with envy that he
has not received a summons here."

"You are pleased to joke, sir, and you are attempting to be elusive,
but you will not slip through the fine meshes of evidence woven by the
law in that way. Kindly examine that paper!"

Small piece of dirty paper passed to witness--

Witness smiles.

"Is that your handwriting, sir?"

"Certainly."

"And the composition of the words are yours?"

"No, only touched up from the Griffin's original."

Mr. Dreadful, bellowing, stamping, and banging his hand upon table all
at one and the same time--

"The wretched Griffin is left entirely out of this case, sir."

"It is a thousand pities; he would have enjoyed it so."

"My Lord, I will venture to read this fragment mercifully dropped