Hereupon this functionary, (who by the way, was the perfect terror of all the apple-hooking boys in the place, and, next to his dog, the greatest dependence, the owner of the said dog had for the preservation of his orchard,) commenced calling over his jury list, and finding them all “on the spot,” (the magical shilling would always bring about that phenomenon,) the justice began the usual swearing in. “James Bat, John Slow, Jacob Slush.” Hereupon three vagabonds showed themselves. “The evidence you shall give, (here the justice evidently forgot the form of the oath, and began to fumble the leaves of his ‘Justice’s Manual,’ with a sneaking and puzzled look.) Ah! oh! shall give between, what’s his name, plaintiff, and A. B. defendant shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing _but_ the truth. Kiss the book!” snatching up an old song book near him, (the justice is purblind without his spectacles, and they had at that juncture slipped down to the very tip of his nose.) They obeyed, and the rest of the jury were all called and sworn in the same manner. The first witness called for the plaintiff was a thick-headed Dutchman, who could not manage to speak English, and who looked as if it were beyond his management altogether to keep his eyes open. He testified to the plaintiff and defendant being together in Wiggins’ bar-room on the 4th of July last, and in the course of a quarrel which sprang up between them, that the defendant had said that the plaintiff was a thief—(“And so he is,” ejaculated Abe, at this point of the testimony, which elicited a loud “_Silence!_” from the justice, and a grin of rage from Nirum)—and that he had ‘stolen a sheep and hid its ears in a stump.’ Nothing could be more clear, but what was that to Abe? “Are you through, little Blackberry?” asked he of the opposite counsel. Young Kellogg looked at him indignantly for a moment and then, drawing himself up, said— “I demand the protection of the court here, from the impertinence of this person.” “Mr. Kettle, call the counsel by his name, or I shall be obliged to commit you.” “Why, your honor, I thought his name was Blackberry. Loafer Joe says it is, and besides I never heerd him called by any other name, your honor. He’s always called ‘little Blackberry’ whenever they tell of his hoss runnen away with him last Gineral Trainen!” “No matter what Loafer Joe says—you must call him by his name, _Mr. Kellogg_, whenever you speak to him.” “Well, your honor, all’s the same to Abe. Are you through, Mr. Kellogg?” “Yes, and I demand judgment; the case is made out.” “Not as you knows on, little Black—Mr. Kellogg I mean. Jest you wait a bit—jest wait till I criss-cross this here witness a little might. Mr. Slump, (addressing the witness,) who was present when I said that aire?” “Loafer Joe was, and I was too.” “Hem—ha—was there any one else?” “Not as I seed.” “Very well—put that down your honor. What did I say was the reason I called him by his name?”