inues to
brandish his ruler and to repeat his poem.

Mr. Rushton bestows an irate kick upon the leg of the stool.

"Hey!" says Roundjacket, turning his head.

"You are very busy, I see," replies Mr. Rushton, with his cynical
smile, "don't let me interrupt you. No doubt perusing that great poem
of yours, on the 'Certiorari.'"

"Yes," says Mr. Roundjacket, running his fingers through his hair,
and causing it to stand erect, "I pride myself on this passage. Just
listen"--

"I'd see your poem sunk first; yes, sir! burned--exterminated. I would
see it in Chancery!" cried the lawyer, in the height of his wrath.

Mr. Roundjacket's hand fell.

"No--no!" he said, with a reproachful expression, "you wouldn't be so
cruel, Judge!"

"I would!" said Mr. Rushton, with a snap.

"In Chancery?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Mr. Rushton."

"Sir?"

"Are you in earnest?"

"I am, sir."

"You distinctly state that you would see my poem consigned to--"

"Chancery, sir."

"Before you would listen to it?"

"Yes, sir!"

Roundjacket gazed for a moment at the lawyer in a way which expressed
volumes. Then slowly rubbing his nose:

"Well, sir, you are more unchristian than I supposed--but go on! Some
day you'll write a poem, and I'll handle it without gloves. Don't
expect any mercy."

"When I write any of your versified stuff, called poetry, I give you
leave to handle it in any way you choose," said the Judge, as we may
call him, following the example of Mr. Roundjacket. "Poetry is a thing
for school-boys and bread and butter Misses, who fancy themselves in
love--not for men!"

Roundjacket groaned.

"There you are," he said, "with your heretical doctrines--doctrines
which are astonishing in a man of your sense. You prefer law to
poetry--divine poetry!" cried Roundjacket, flourishing his ruler.

"Roundjacket," said Mr. Rushton.

"Judge?"

"Don't be a ninny."

"No danger. I'm turning into a bear from association with you."

"A bear, sir?"

"Yes sir--a bear, sir!"

"Do you consider me a bear, do you?"

"An unmitigated grizzly bear, sir, of the most ferocious and
uncivilized description," replied Roundjacket, with great candor.

"Very well, sir," replied Mr. Rushton, who seemed to relish these
pleasantries of Mr. Roundjacket--"very well, sir, turn into a bear
as much as you choose; but, for heaven sake, don't become a poetical
bear."

"There it is again!"

"What, sir?"

"You are finding fault with the harmless amusem