At the trial, the junior merely "opens the pleadings" by stating in the fewest possible words, what the action is about--that it is, perhaps, a suit for breach of promise of marriage between Smith and Jones, or to recover upon an insurance policy for a loss by fire--and then resumes his seat, whereupon the leader--the great K. C.--really opens the case, at considerable length and with much more detail and argument than would be good form in an American court. He states his side's contention with particularity, reads documents and correspondence (none of which have to be proved unless their authenticity is disputed--points which the solicitors have long ago threshed out) and he even indicates the position of the other side, while, at the same time, arguing its fallacy. Having done this, he leaves it to the junior to call the witnesses--more often he departs from the court room to begin another case elsewhere, and returns only to cross-examine an important witness on the other side, or to make the closing speech to the jury. In this way a busy leader may have several trials going on at once. The junior then proceeds to examine the witnesses with the help of an occasional whispered suggestion from the solicitor, who is more than ever isolated by the departure of the leader, and the devil is proud when the junior audibly refers to him for some detail. If the leader is absent, which frequently happens notwithstanding his fee has been paid, inasmuch as no case is deferred by reason of counsel's absence, the junior takes his place, while the solicitor grumbles and more devolves upon the devil. Occasionally, indeed, both leader and junior may be elsewhere and then is the glorious opportunity of the poor devil, who hungers for such an accident, for he may open, examine, and cross-examine, and, if neither his junior nor his august leader appear, he may even close to the jury. The solicitor will be white with rage and chagrin, wondering how he shall explain to the litigant the absence of the counsel whose fees he has paid, but the devil may win and so please the solicitor that the next time he may himself be briefed as junior. This is one of the things he has read of in the Lives of the Lord Chancellors. The devil is in no sense an employee or personal associate of the junior--which might look like partnership, a thing too abhorrent to be permitted. On the contrary, he often has his own chambers and may, at any time, be himself retained as a junior, in which event his business takes precedence of his duties as a devil, and he then describes himself as being "on his own." Having gained some identity, and more or less business "on his own" from the solicitors, a devil gradually begins to shine as a junior, whereupon appears his own satellite in the person of a younger man as devil, while the junior becomes more and more absorbed in the engrossing but ever fascinating activities of regular practice at the Bar.