approval of
his personal appearance, as he fingered the broad turn of his
shirt-collar, which seriously threatened his ears and chin. I said I
never saw a judicial gentleman look more upish. In fact, nobody could
deny that in clothes the Squire was all consequence; and when he
loomed into 'Court,' all over the steel chain, believe it, there were
bows and servilities without stint. Taking his seat on a high birch
block, the plank table being set before him, on which to spread his
inseparable law-book, the plaintiffs and defendants assembled, and
took seats on a wooded bench in front. 'All persons whatsoever havin'
any business whatever with this 'ere court--Squire Belhash
sitting--must come for'ard now or never,' cries out at the top of a
deep sonorous voice a little scraggy-looking Scotchman, who, without
coat or vest (his shirt-sleeves rolled up, and the right leg of his
nether garment tucked away beneath a coarse deck-boot), acted the
double part of usher and constable. Again directing a few legal
phrases to the Squire, who bowed acknowledgingly, he turned to those
present--hoped gentlemen would take their hats off, and spit in the
fire-place, seeing how the Court had been newly sanded.

"Having examined a paper, somewhat judicially, the Squire, with an air
of dignified endurance, turning to his usher, said:--'Well, I reckon,
it's best to try the case of Hornblower versus the herrins!' Down he
laid Justice's Guide. It seemed that on the previous night sundry
fishing nets had by some mysterious process been relieved of their
burden. This, one of the Squire's sons charged to the ingenuity, and,
as he set forth without fear or trembling, stealing propensities of
one skipper Hornblower, who at this time sailed a saucy-looking craft
called the 'Virtue of Cape Cod.' This Hornblower was one of the
independent school, cared not seven coppers for anybody, nor had the
most virtuous respect for the nets of his neighbours; he looked the
pink-perfection of a Cape Cod fisherman. The skipper rose before his
accusers; his hard, weather-bleached face looking as if his intention
to throw a harpoon into somebody was the very best in the world. Then
his dark eyes flashed lightning at the Squire, who commanded the
little Scotchman to read the indictment. This suspicious looking
document set forth that one skipper Hornblower, of the schooner
Virtue, had feloniously, and with malice aforethought, extracted from
the nets of one James Belha