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In a cause in which he was employed as associate counsel with General Hamilton, an incident occurred, in relation to Chief Justice Yates, not unworthy recording. It speaks a language that cannot he misunderstood, and is demonstrative of the influence which he had over the feelings as well as the minds of his hearers. It was the celebrated case of Le Guen vs.
It is, and hard work, too. I'll tell you about the newspaper business if you'll tell me about soap making. Fair exchange. I wish you would take me as a pupil, Miss Bartlett; you would find me quick at picking up things." "Well, then, pick up that pail and draw a pailful of water." "I'll do it," cried Yates sternly; "I'll do it, though it blast me."
The paper has a direct bearing on the case, and the Court will not go back of the facts stated." Mr. Cavendish sat down and consulted his client. Mr. Belcher was afraid of Yates. The witness not only knew too much concerning his original intentions, but he was a lawyer who, if questioned too closely and saucily, would certainly manage to bring in facts to his disadvantage.
"You're all right," repeated young Bartlett, and, much to his astonishment, Yates found it to be so. When the horse broke into a canter, Yates thought the motion as easy as swinging in a hammock, and as soothing as a rocking chair. "This is an improvement. But we've got to keep it up, for if this brute suddenly changes to a trot, I'm done for."
The next thing Yates knew the full pail was resting on the well curb, and the hickory spring had given the click that released the handle. "There," said Kitty, suppressing her merriment, "that's how it's done." "I see the result, Miss Bartlett; but I'm not sure I can do the trick. These things are not so simple as they seem. What is the next step?" "Pour the water into the leach."
Yates didn't know whether it was meant for an invitation or not, but he answered shortly: "Thanks, we won't stay." "Speak fur yourself, please," snarled Bartlett. "Of course I go with my friend," said Renmark; "but we are obliged for the invitation." "Please yourselves."
On the last leaf of all, which exists just as we may suppose it to have been despatched by him to the copyist, there is the following curious specimen of doxology, written hastily, in the hand-writing of the respective parties, at the bottom: "Finished at last. Thank God! "Amen! Sir Peter Teazle Mr. King. Sir Oliver Surface Mr. Yates. Joseph Surface Mr. Palmer. Charles Mr. Smith. Crabtree Mr.
Speaking of the third section, which had encountered great opposition, as inflicting undue punishment upon prominent rebels, Mr. Henderson said: "If this provision be all, it will be an act of the most stupendous mercy that ever mantled the crimes of rebellion." "Let us suppose a case," said Mr. Yates. "Here is a man Winder, or Dick Turner, or some other notorious character.
Down the field under it went the Harwell runners like bolts from a bow, and the Yates half who secured the pigskin was downed where he caught. The two teams lined up quickly. Then back, foot by foot, yard by yard, went the struggling Harwell men. Yet the retreat was less like a rout than before, and Yates was having harder work.
It was more than six years old, and bore its date, and the marks of its age. All it needed was the proper signatures. He knew that he could trust Yates no longer. He knew, too, that he could not forward his own ends by appearing to be displeased.
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