Thesiger, who was his constant opponent, was sometimes irritated with Platt's manner, and on the occasion I am about to mention fairly lost his temper. It was in an action for nuisance before Tindal, Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, at Croydon Assizes. Thesiger was for the plaintiff, who complained of a nuisance caused by the bad smells that emanated from a certain tank on the defendant's premises, and called a very respectable but ignorant labouring man to prove his case. The witness gave a description of the tank, not picturesque, but doubtless true, and into this tank all kinds of refuse seem to have been thrown, so that the vilest of foul stenches were emitted. Platt began his cross-examination of poor Hodge by asking him in his most coaxing manner to describe the character and nature of the various stenches. Had Hodge been scientific, or if he had had a little common sense, he would have simply answered "_bad_ character and _ill_-nature;" but he improved on this simplicity, and said,-- "Some on 'em smells summat _like paint_." This was quite sufficient for Platt. "Come now," said he, "that's a very sensible answer. You are aware, as a man of undoubted intelligence, that there are various colours of paint. Had this smell any _particular colour_, think you?" "Wall, I dunnow, sir." "Don't answer hurriedly; take your time. We only want to get at the truth. Now, what colour do you say this smell belonged to?" "Wall, I don't raightly know, sir." "I see. But what do you say to _yellow_? Had it a yellow smell, think you?" "Wall, sir, I doan't think ur wus yaller, nuther. No, sir, not quite yaller; I think it was moore of a blue like." "A blue smell. We all know a blue smell when we see it." Of course, I need not say the laughter was going on in peals, much to Platt's delight. Tindal was simply in an ecstasy, but did all he could to suppress his enjoyment of the scene. Then Platt resumed,-- "You think it was more of a blue smell like? Now, let me ask you, there are many kinds of blue smells, from the smell of a Blue Peter, which is salt, to that of the sky, which depends upon the weather. Was it dark, or--" "A kind of sky-blue, sir." "More like your scarf?" Up went Hodge's hand to see if he could feel the colour. "Yes," said he, "that's more like--" "Zummut like your scarf?" "Yes, sir." Then he was asked as to a variety of solids and liquids; and the man shook his head, intimating that he could go a deuce of a way, but that there were bounds even to human knowledge. Then Platt questioned him on less abstruse topics, and to all of his questions he kept answering,-- "Yes, my lord." "Were fish remnants," asked Platt, "sometimes thrown into this reservoir of filth, such as old cods' heads with goggle eyes?" "Yes, my lord." "_Rari nantes in gurgite vasto_?" "Yes, my lord."