I have always observed that lesser dignitaries are more jealous of their dignity than greater ones.  Here was an excellent example of it.  The chaplain looked very severe, but when this little story reached the ears of the good Bishop Atlay he was delighted, and wished to see me.  I was becoming famous.  I made my call in due course, and let him see that a Judge’s dog was not to be put down by a mere chaplain, and came away much gratified with his lordship’s politeness.  After this, during our stay in the city, the Bishop gave me the run of his beautiful new garden along the riverside.  And there my lord and I used to gambol for an hour after our duties in court were over.  This lovely garden was an additional pleasure to me, because I was relieved from a muzzle.  There was only one thing wanting:  the Bishop kept no rats.

After this his lordship never saw my lord without asking the question, “How’s dear Jack?” which showed how much a Bishop could respect a little dog, and how much superior he was to a chaplain.  I heard him say once we were all God’s creatures, but that, of course, I was not able to understand at the time.  I did not know if it included the chaplain.

I think I must now tell a little story of myself, if you will not think me conceited.  It is about a small matter that happened at Cambridge.  One day a very amiable but dreadfully noisy advocate was cross-examining a witness, as I thought, rather angrily, because the man would not say exactly what he wanted him to say.  My lord did not take notice of this, and it went on until I thought I would call his attention to the counsel’s manner, and, accordingly, gave a growl—­merely a growl of inquiry.  Brown—­which was the counsel’s name—­was a little startled at this unexpected remonstrance, and paused, looking up at the Judge.

“Go on,” said my lord—­“go on, pray,” pretending not to know the cause of the interruption.

He went on accordingly for a considerable time, with a very noisy speech—­so noisy that one could not hear one’s self bark, which I did two or three times without any effect.  However, at last I made one of my best efforts.

But this was bad policy, inasmuch as it attracted too much attention to myself, who had been hitherto unseen.

My lord, however, thanks to his presence of mind, had the kindness to say,—­

“Dear me!  I wish people would not bring their dogs into court.”  Then turning to our marshal, he said, “Take Jack into Baron Pollock’s room”—­the Baron had just gone in to lunch, for he was always punctual to a minute—­“and ask him to give him a mutton-chop.”

And when, five minutes later, my lord came in, the Baron was enjoying his chop, and I was eating my lord’s.

In another court the Judge administered a well-timed rebuke to a flippant and very egotistical counsel, and I could hardly restrain myself from administering another.  During the progress of a dreadfully long address to the jury for the defence, he said,—­