Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1873-03-12

The iDWplc0me Guest.

A lawyer sat in tilted chair
With heels regardless of comfort and looks
High up or the table among his books;
And where, indeed, could he better keep
His legal cowhldes, than with law sheep?
About rean of legal cap
In bitter irony called " brief"-
The writing rugged beyond belief
Lay on the floor and in his lap,
Through which he searched to find the pith
or the knOtty case of Smith VS. Smith.
just as he struck final clew,
{" Tetigisti rem as it were acu"
The which is Latin, and signifies
You have hit your subject between the yes"
\ footstep sounded upon the stair,
A some one opened the Office door.
Was it creditor, client. or only bore?
Looking up from his brief with a stided swear,
He saw youth with piercing eve.
manner the farther removed from shy,
A face all shrewdness, and tact, and brass,
And mouth suggestive of bl 'rney and gas
Who entered, presented paste board, bowed
And said, in a voice a trifle:oud,
my name is Drum, sir, | have come
From the law-book firm of ANY &. Some,
OF San Jose; and dare say
l can sell you a little bill today"
The lawyer groaned; in voice of wee
And wrath he answered briefly - MOL
l wantno books I've got DO cash.
am busy confound you, go to-dashl"
Without atom of anger heat
The stranger settled himself In a seat
And began TO talk He would not iDtrude
On Il lawyers sacred solitude
He was not uncivi or so ob;use.-
Unless he was sure he could be of use.
"You are doubtless sir absorbed in a case;
see the lines of thought in your face.
You are hunting law and authorities;
| sympahize, and III just talk biz
Now you a'e a lawyer Of good repute,
You are learned, industrious acute,
But you're puzzled and baffled in this same euit
see It plainly confessed in your looks.
And why F.? dear sir, from the lack of booksl
What is that YOU lay? You have all you need
Is that your library ] could read
The whole affair in an hour or two.
And there isn't volume there that's new
You surely can not be content
With such a confoundedly ancient Kent
Your Blackstone is messy, and sir fear
Your Greeuleaf is growing terribly sere.
Your Equity is an old old story,
Your Angel has long since gone to glory,
You Il find your Redfeld b. ginning to bleach,
Your Bishop and Parsons too old to preach,
Your Bacon mOuldered little too lar,
And your Byfes become the merest scar,
In short, your treatses would throw
Shade of antiquity Noah
Now ct me sell you ION ehing late,
Something to bring you down to date.
What shall 1t be y? Il work on Wills,
On Torts, Trade Marks, Banks, OF Bills:
What do you want: ri sell cheap
You viii fall my neck for joy, and weep"
And so he talked. I he lawyer listened;
Impotence and gloom In his features glstened,
He tired, but tried IN VAN TO breast
The wordy flow of his fluent guest,
Until at last Iufii m Of will,
He fairly yielded and bought bill.
But he bought he formed a plan.
For getting the best OF the Ia w-book man;
He gave his order. but thought with glee
He would make the fellow wait fol his pay.
But his wicked plot went all agley,
GAS our old friend, Bobby Burns, would say.l
For the salesman turned, as he went away,
And saIl, g VIII send them {. o D.
Library Docket.