the clerk of arraigns. At its termination, the latter functionary said, "Who is the junior counsel present?"
To my horror, up jumped Polter, and said, "I think it's very likely that I am the junior counsel in court. My name is Polter, and I was only called last term!"
A titter ran through the crowd, but Polter, whose least fault was bashfulness, only smiled benignly at those around him.
Another whispering between judge and clerk. At its conclusion the clerk handed a bundle of papers to Polter, saying, at the same time:
"Mr. Polter, his lordship wishes you to conduct the prosecution."
"Certainly," said Polter; and he opened the papers, glanced at them, and rose to address the court.
He began by requesting that the jury would take into consideration the fact that he had only that moment been placed in possession of the brief for the prosecution of the prisoner at the bar, who appeared from what he had gathered from a glance at his instructions, to have been guilty of as heartless a robbery as ever disgraced humanity. He would endeavour to do his duty, but he feared that, at so short a notice, he should scarcely be able to do justice to the brief with which he had been most unexpectedly entrusted. He then went on to state the case in a masterly manner, appearing to gather the facts, with which, of course, he was perfectly intimate, from the papers in his hand. He commented on the growing frequency of omnibus robberies, and then went on to say:—
