Newton.—“Here is the office, and here is the chairs, and here is the paper, and pen and ink, sir; and here is the chairs for all the attorneys that wants to do business here to come in and sit down.” Gen. B. (with an oath).—“Bring it to me, sir!” Newton.—“I won’t do it. Come in, sir, and sit at the table.” The irate General sprang from his carriage, and, followed by the ever-ready Gaston, rushed into the court room in a menacing manner. But the imperturbable constable did not move, nor show signs of disturbance. Gen. B. (with a vile epithet and oaths, which the reader should imagine, thickly strewn throughout this colloquy).—“Give me that chair!” Newton.—“There is a chair.” General B. thundered.—“_Give me that chair you are sitting on!_ Get out of that chair, and give it to me! I want this chair and intend to have it!” “All right,” replied Newton, after a pause; “if this chair suits you better than the others, take it.” Gen. B.—“You —— leatherhead radical! You sitting down there fanning yourself!” Newton.—“I am fanning myself, sitting in my own office, and attending to my own business.” Gen. B.—“You vile brute, you! You want to have a bullet-hole put through you before you can move!” At this juncture old man Baker and one of his followers, pistols in hand, reinforced the General, and Tommy rode as close to the door as possible, with his trusty carbine, while others appeared outside. Newton arose, and taking his chair by the back, turned the seat of it toward General Baker, and, still holding the back with both hands, said: “There it is, Gen. Baker, if you want it; and you can shoot me, if you want to. Mr. Robert Baker, you know what sort of a man I am. I have always tried to behave myself when you came in the office.” Robert B.—“Yes, but” (with an oath) “this drilling has got to stop. I want you to go for Rives.” Newton.—“I’ve got no right to go for Rives, and I’m not going.” Robert B.—“Well you’ll be a dead man, and you’ll wish you had gone.” Newton.—“I am but one man.” Gen. B. (with oaths and sneers of contempt).—“Sitting down there with your feet cocked up!” Newton.—“Well, General, I’m not dead; but if you’re going to kill me, why kill me; and that is all you can do.” Gen. B.—“We’ll take our time about that. We’ll show you, you insolent darkie!—you contemptible nigger!” The Bakers returned to their carriages in high dudgeon. “There is Justice Rives’ private secretary,” said the old man, as they were about leaving the premises. “If you will speak to him, I think he will go for Rives.” “No,” replied the incensed General, “I am not going to be insulted again. You can do so if you choose.” Robert Baker did choose, for he preferred to reserve resentment, rather than allow it to thwart or hinder his purposes. Gaston, however, ‘halted’ the secretary, and undertook the mission himself.