The Great Mathematician. “AH, WOULD YOU BELIEVE IT, THAT BIT OF ACTING BROUGHT ME MORE COMPLIMENTS THAN ANYTHING I EVER DID?”

Fair Matron. “I SHOULD THINK, SO INDEED!”]

* * * * *

TRUE AND TRUSTY.

(A STORY OF THE LAW.)

I always liked LAWRENCE LUCKAPENNY, and shall never forget the first time I met him.  He was leaving the County Court, where I had had myself a small matter of business, and knowing the same Counsel, we foregathered.  He was in great spirits.  He had just won his case.

“Yes,” said he, “it was a hard fight, but we came off all right.  His Honour was distinctly in our favour, so now I and my co-trustees will have the satisfaction of feeling that the estate has benefited, with no greater loss than a few months’ delay.  Eh?” and he turned to our Counsel, who smiled, and shook his head a little doubtfully.

“Can scarcely go so far as that,” the man of law observed.  “You see, these matters take time, and the other side may appeal.”

“Appeal!  What is that?”

“I am afraid you will have the full opportunity for learning, my dear fellow.”

“Well, it’s all right up to now,” cried LUCKAPENNY, cheerfully, and we separated.

Two or three years after this I again met the litigant, but this time in the Royal Courts of Justice.  There were streaks of white in his hair, but he was still cheerful.

I asked him how he was getting on with the matter, and he replied, “As well as might be expected.”  Our Counsel had been right, for the liquidators had appealed.

“But we have beaten them again, my dear Sir!  Think of that,—­beaten them again!”

“And now you will have no further difficulty, I suppose.”

“I can’t go quite so far as that,” returned LUCKAPENNY, who I noticed was adopting legal phraseology.  “You know they may take us up to the House of Lords, if they please!”

And again time went on.  In the course of years I found that poor LUCKAPENNY had been taken to Westminster, and their Lordships had decided to give themselves time to consider their judgment.

When I met LUCKAPENNY again, the House of Lords had decided against him.

“It is very awkward,” he observed, “they will not allow my costs, and so I shall have to pay them out of my own pocket!  And what makes it the more annoying is that, even had we won our cause, it would have led to nothing, as the estate we were fighting is practically bankrupt.”

I offered my condolences, and we separated.

The last time, I saw poor LUCKAPENNY, he looked a very shadow of himself.  He was haggard and thin, and was wearing clothes of an ancient cut and threadbare material.  He smiled as he met me, and observed that he was still engaged on the trust matter.

“But I have come to the last stage,” he said; “I have paid the costs in full.  And now I am going home.”