When the day of my appearance at Court arrived, I was punctual in my attendance, having obtained a day's leave from the office, and I must admit, that in spite of the urgency of my own private affair, I found it possible to take a great amount of interest, and find a great deal of amusement in what was going on. I must also confess that I was really appalled at the utter disregard of the value of the oath taken by those appearing as plaintiffs or defendants. It was rare, indeed, to find in any case that the plaintiff did not swear one thing and the defendant the exact opposite. The duty of the Registrar (I had not made the acquaintance of the judge yet) seemed to consist of deciding which was the most likely story out of each pair told him, and acting accordingly. And as I was not called upon till midday, I heard a great deal of this, so much indeed that I felt full of wonder how any man could occupy such a position as that presiding officer did and retain any belief in what anybody said. At last my case was called, and it was simplicity itself. "Do you owe this money?" queried the Registrar sharply. "Yes, sir," I replied. "Then why don't you pay it?" was the next and most obvious question. "Because I can't," I answered humbly, and was proceeding to explain those reasons, although I could see the gentleman I was addressing was taking no notice of me, when he suddenly stopped me and called upon my creditor (who I may say, was not the doctor, but an agent to whom the doctor paid a percentage for collecting his debts) to give evidence of my means. He stated what he knew very fairly, viz. that I kept a shop and had a permanent situation. Upon which the Registrar ordered me to pay within a fortnight and called the next case. I was, of course, mightily astonished at being so peremptorily silenced, especially as I felt sure that from what I had seen that morning I should have got on much better had I denied the debt altogether. But I was only then commencing my acquaintance with our laws, as affecting debtor and creditor, wherein at every turn a premium is placed upon dishonesty and falsehood, and the honest debtor seldom obtains either justice or mercy. Of that, however, later on.