In the midst of the attorney's song, and just when he had reached the middle of the pool, there happened a catastrophe, which might have frightened any other man out of his propriety. This was nothing less than the sudden giving way of the dam of logs, the disruption of which was followed by the escape of the whole accumulated body of waters, and that with a fury that nothing could resist. In an instant the attorney was swept from his horse, soused head over ears in the flood, and would have been drowned had he not been luckily dashed into the crotch of a low and twisted buttonwood, and there left astride a horizontal bough, by the retreating waters. The whole thing was effected in a trice, indeed with such magical celerity, that he failed to notice the main point of the casualty, which was the loss of his horse; and supposing himself still at ease in the saddle, he plied his heels with their accustomed vigour against the regardless trunk, wondering somewhat at the immobility of his charger, and the rush of the current at his feet. "Botheration," he cried; "hip, Durgan, get up; dzick! dzick! That's a fine fellow! Will it never be done raining? 'Come, drink, ha, ha! come laugh, ha, ha! Oh, ha!'---- Hip, horsey, hip!" And thus he went on, now spurring the timber flanks of his charger, and now trolling forth the drunken chorus, in the midst of the stream, where he would perhaps have remained until morning, or until sleep had caused him to relax his hold, had not his extraordinary outcries reached the ears of a traveller, who rode to his assistance, the water being already reduced to its ordinary level, and finding him incapable of helping himself, pulled him from his seat, and dragged him to the other side of the stream. "Botheration, what's the matter?" cried the attorney, who seemed to recover his senses a little, upon finding himself on his feet; "where's Durgan? Sure, o' my life, I did'nt come here on foot! Odds bodikins! where's Schlachtenschlager?--Hillo, there! botheration, you sir! what are you doing with my horse?" "_Your_ horse!" exclaimed the traveller. "Are you drunk yet?" "Drunk! I defy the insinuation," cried Affidavy, "and demand protection of the court.--Down, you rogue, or I'll indict you for horse-thieving. A pretty prank to play upon an honest man, riding for life and death! Botheration, Sir Sauce-box, whoever you are, give me my horse, or I shall lose the best case was ever entrusted to a lawyer--a gold watch worth forty pounds--bills of exchange--letters of credit--and a purse of guineas!" "Now were you not drunk," said the traveller, "and more of a beast than the animal that bore you, I could tell you of a case much more to your interest to be engaged in." "Hah! a case? what sort of a case? Odds bodikins, I'm your man!" "You are drunken Tef Affidavy?" "Drunken! That's actionable. Tef! _Tef_ Affidavy! Theophilus Affidavy, Esq.--_Esquire_, do you hear?"