It was therefore not remarkable that the courthouse three weeks later was crowded with an excited multitude of the curious and sympathizing.  The fair plaintiff, with her mother, was early in attendance, and under the Colonel’s advice appeared in the same modest garb in which she had first visited his office.  This and her downcast modest demeanor were perhaps at first disappointing to the crowd, who had evidently expected a paragon of loveliness—­as the Circe of the grim ascetic defendant, who sat beside his counsel.  But presently all eyes were fixed on the Colonel, who certainly made up in his appearance any deficiency of his fair client.  His portly figure was clothed in a blue dress-coat with brass buttons, a buff waistcoat which permitted his frilled shirt front to become erectile above it, a black satin stock which confined a boyish turned-down collar around his full neck, and immaculate drill trousers, strapped over varnished boots.  A murmur ran round the court.  “Old ‘Personally Responsible’ had got his war-paint on,” “The Old War-Horse is smelling powder,” were whispered comments.  Yet for all that the most irreverent among them recognized vaguely, in this bizarre figure, something of an honored past in their country’s history, and possibly felt the spell of old deeds and old names that had once thrilled their boyish pulses.  The new District Judge returned Colonel Starbottle’s profoundly punctilious bow.  The Colonel was followed by his negro servant, carrying a parcel of hymn-books and Bibles, who, with a courtesy evidently imitated from his master, placed one before the opposite counsel.  This, after a first curious glance, the lawyer somewhat superciliously tossed aside.  But when Jim, proceeding to the jury-box, placed with equal politeness the remaining copies before the jury, the opposite counsel sprang to his feet.

“I want to direct the attention of the Court to this unprecedented tampering with the jury, by this gratuitous exhibition of matter impertinent and irrelevant to the issue.”

The Judge cast an inquiring look at Colonel Starbottle.

“May it please the Court,” returned Colonel Starbottle with dignity, ignoring the counsel, “the defendant’s counsel will observe that he is already furnished with the matter—­which I regret to say he has treated—­in the presence of the Court—­and of his client, a deacon of the church—­with—­er—–­great superciliousness.  When I state to your Honor that the books in question are hymn-books and copies of the Holy Scriptures, and that they are for the instruction of the jury, to whom I shall have to refer them in the course of my opening, I believe I am within my rights.”

“The act is certainly unprecedented,” said the Judge, dryly, “but unless the counsel for the plaintiff expects the jury to sing from these hymn-books, their introduction is not improper, and I cannot admit the objection.  As defendant’s counsel are furnished with copies also, they cannot plead ‘surprise,’ as in the introduction of new matter, and as plaintiff’s counsel relies evidently upon the jury’s attention to his opening, he would not be the first person to distract it.”  After a pause he added, addressing the Colonel, who remained standing, “The Court is with you, sir; proceed.”