ns
returned regretfully to the city.

VI

THE CELEBRATED CASE OF BARBELL AGAINST PICKWICK.
SERGEANT BUZFUZ'S SPEECH AND
AN UNEXPECTED VERDICT

On the morning of the trial Mr. Pickwick went to court certain that the
outcome would be in his favor. The room was full of people, and all the
Pickwickians were there when he arrived. The Judge was a very short man,
so plump that he seemed all face and waistcoat. When he had rolled in
upon two little turned legs, and sat down at his desk, all you could see
of him was two little eyes, one broad pink face, and about half of a
comical, big wig. Scarcely had the jurors taken their seats, when Mrs.
Bardell's lawyers brought in the lady herself, half hysterical, and
supported by two tearful lady friends. The ushers called for silence and
the trial began.

The lawyer who spoke for Mrs. Bardell was named Sergeant Buzfuz, a
blustering man with a fat body and a red face. He began by picturing Mr.
Pickwick's housekeeper as a lonely widow who had been heartlessly
deceived by the villainy of her lodger. He declared that for two years,
Mrs. Bardell had attended to Mr. Pickwick's comforts, that once he had
patted her little boy on the head and asked him how he would like to
have another father; that he had also asked her to marry him, and on the
same day had been seen by three of his friends holding her in his arms
and soothing her agitation. Drawing forth two scraps of paper, Sergeant
Buzfuz went on:

"Gentlemen, one word more. Two letters have passed between these
parties, which speak volumes. They are not open, fervent letters of
affection. They are sly, underhanded communications evidently intended
by Pickwick to mislead and delude any one into whose hands they might
fall. Let me read the first: '_Dear Mrs. B.--Chops and tomato Sauce.
Yours, Pickwick._' Gentlemen, what does this mean? Chops! Gracious
Heavens! and Tomato Sauce. Gentlemen, is the happiness of a trusting
female to be trifled away by such shallow tricks? The next has no date.
'_Dear Mrs. B.--I shall not be at home till to-morrow._' And then
follows this remarkable expression--'_Don't trouble yourself about the
warming-pan._' The warming-pan! Why is Mrs. Bardell begged not to
trouble herself about this warming-pan, unless (as is no doubt the
case) it is a mere substitute for some endearing word or promise,
cunningly used by Pickwick, with a view to his intended desertion?

"But enough