Your nephew, who is a stout colt, buffets him
well for a time, but Forrester, who is a mighty, powerful built fellow,
he gets the better in the long run, and both come down together in the
road. Then Forrester, being uppermost, sticks his thumb into Master
Colleton's eye--the left eye, I think, it was--yes, the left eye it
was--and the next moment it would have been out, when your nephew, not
liking it, whipped out his dirk, and, 'fore Forrester could say Jack
Robinson, it was playing about in his ribs; and, then comes the hatchet
part, just as I told it you before."
"And is none of this truth?"
"God bless your soul, no! Do you suppose, if it was the truth, it would
have taken so long a time in telling? I wouldn't have wasted the breath
on it. The witnesses would have done that, if it were true; but in this
was the beauty of my art, and had I been permitted to say to the jury
what I've said to you, the young man would have been clear. It wouldn't
have been gospel, but where's the merit of a lawyer, if he can't go
through a bog? This is one of the sweetest and most delightful features
of the profession.
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