, went the pens all around him. Every word, as it fell from his
lips, was pounced upon by the begowned, bewigged, bewildering judges,
was twisted and turned by the lawyers, was tossed back and forth
throughout the court-room, until there arose a question in our minds, as
to who was telling the story. All the while the lawyers were glaring
upon him as though he was perjuring himself with every word--as who
would not be, under the circumstances? And such lawyers! They dotted the
pews all around us. The long, black gowns were not so bad; they hid a
deal of awkwardness, I doubt not. But the wigs! the queer little curly
things, perched upon every head, and worn with such a perverse delight
in misfits! the small men being invariably hidden beneath the big wigs,
and the large men strutting about like the great Panjandrum himself with
the little round button at the top! The appearance of one, whose head,
through some uncommon development, rose to a ridge-pole behind, was
surprising, to say the least. It was not alone that his wig was too
small, that a fringe of straight, black hair fell below its entire white
circumference; it was not alone that it was parted upon the wrong side,
or that, being mansard in form, and his head hip-roofed, it could
never, by any process, have been shaped thereto; but I doubt if the
wearing of it upside down, added to all these little drawbacks, could
conduce to the beauty or dignity of any man. Unmindful of this reversed
order of nature, its happy possessor skipped about the court-room,
nodding to his brethren with a blithesome air, to the imminent peril of
his top-knot, which sustained about the same relation to his head as the
sword to that of Damocles. He speered down upon the poor witness. He
pretended to make notes of dreadful import with a screaming quill, and,
in fact, comported himself with an airy unconsciousness delightful to
see.

In regard to the proceedings of the court, I only know that the point
under discussion concerned one Johnson, and a pump; and Mr. Pickwick's
judge sat upon the bench. Whether he was originally round, red-faced,
with gooseberry eyes, I do not remember; but all these pleasing
characteristics he possessed at this present time, as well as a pudgy
forefinger, with which to point his remarks.

"You say," he repeated, with a solemnity of which my pen is incapable,
and impressing every word upon the poor man in the front pew with this
same forefinger, "that--Bunsen--w