re should be found room to tell of William's encounter and
subsequent relations with a judge of the Common Pleas Division of the
High Court of Justice, because, in after years--well, never mind that
part of it.
In the course of his work William was frequently in the law courts, and
one sultry September afternoon, this was in the first year of his
engagement with Whimple, he got into an argument with the office boy of
another lawyer on the merits of the Toronto baseball team. William
bore himself tolerably well, until he was told that he knew as much
about baseball as a hog's foot, and was, without doubt, the sassiest
"four-flusher" in the city of Toronto. "I may be a four-flusher," said
William, calmly, "but I ain't allowing any pie-face loafer your size to
say it," and he smacked the boy's cheek. A hot encounter followed, the
contestants being so determined to rub each other's head through the
stone flooring of the corridor that they did not notice his lordship,
the judge, with the officials of the court around him, come from the
court room. They noticed nothing, in fact, until a deputy sheriff fell
over them as they rolled on the floor. The deputy sheriff rose
hastily, and angrily, and drew one foot back to plant a kick on the
first part of boyish anatomy that he could reach, when the judge, robes
and all, stooped down, grasped each boy by the neck, and placed him on
his feet. Still retaining his hold, he looked at the boys somewhat
sternly--if the mouth was an index of his thoughts, but if his
eyes--anyway, William saw his eyes first, and smiled.
The judge was a surprisingly young man for a judge. In his day he had
been a champion boxer and football player. It was whispered, indeed,
that no boxing bout of importance since his appointment had been
without his presence as a spectator. He regarded William gravely. "He
smiles," he said solemnly, "smiles in the presence of the august court
whose serenity he has seen fit to disturb." The other boy was
blubbering, and to him the judge said, "This coming man realises the
enormity of his crime. He weeps the bitter tears of one discovered.
He repents his misdeeds. Officer," to the deputy sheriff, "take the
names of these disturbers of the peace. Upon their fitting punishment
I will ponder." He relaxed his hold and passed on.
A day or two later he ran across William in the corridor. This time
his lordship was without the robes, and in street attire looked y
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