“Under the strict letter of the law I ought to throw that case out of court, I s'pose. But I'm teetotally dam' ef I do any sech thing!... That old man's heart is broke now, and there ain't no earthly reason that I kin think of why that she-devil should be allowed to tromp on the pieces. And that's jest exactly whut she'll do, shore ez shootin', unless she's let free mighty soon to go her own gait.... Their feet take hold on hell.... I'll bet in the Kingdom there'll be many a man that was called a simple-minded fool on this earth that'll wear the biggest, shiniest halo old Peter kin find in stock.” He reached for the Trigger Sam book, but put it back again in the drawer. He reached into a gaping side pocket of his coat for his corncob pipe, but forgot to charge the fire-blackened bowl from the tobacco cannister that stood handily upon his desk. Chewing hard upon the discoloured cane stem of his pipe, he projected himself toward the back room and opened the door, to find Mr. Milam, the circuit clerk, and Mr. Birdsong, the sheriff, still engaged together in official duties there. “Lishy,” he said from the doorway, “young Rawlings generally gits round here about two o'clock in the evenin', don't he?” “Generally about two or two-thirty,” said Mr. Milam. “I thought so. Well, to-day when he comes tell him, please, I want to see him a minute in my chambers.” “What if you're not here? Couldn't I give him the message?” “I'll be here,” promised the judge. “And there's one thing more: Bigger & Quigley will file a divorce petition to-day--Curd versus Curd is the title of the suit. Put it at the head of the list of undefended actions, please, Lishy, ez near the top of the docket ez you kin.” “Curd? Is it the Lysander Curds, Judge?”, asked Mr. Milam. “You guessed right the very first pop--it's the Lysandy Curds,” said Judge Priest grimly. “Well, for one I'm not surprised,” said Mr. Milam. “If poor old Lysander hadn't stayed blind for about two years after the rest of this town got its eyes wide open this suit would have been filed long before now.” But Judge Priest didn't hear him. He had closed the door. Mr. Milam looked meaningly at Mr. Birdsong. Mr. Birdsong felt in his pocket for his plug and helped himself to a copious chew, meanwhile looking meaningly back at Mr. Milam. With the cud properly bestowed in his right jaw Mr. Birdsong gave vent to what for him was a speech of considerable length: '“Jedge said Bigger & Quigley, didn't he? Well, they're a good smart team of lawyers, but ef I was in Lysander John Curd's shoes I think I'd intrust my interests in this matter to a different firm than them.” “Who's that?” inquired Mr. Milam. “It's a Yankee firm up North,” answered Mr. Birdsong, masticating slowly. “One named Smith and the other'n named Wesson.”