“Here is a man you must get acquainted with; this dark swarthy man with the black eyes, black curling hair, and cast-iron face, sour and austere.  That is Ned Wade, Frank’s younger brother, and one of the pleasantest and best-hearted men alive.  He has more book than Frank, and quite as much talent, and will hammer his way towards the front.”

“Who is that little, old, hump-backed, wry-necked chap hoisting his face up as if trying to look into a basket on his shoulder?”

“That?  That is the immortal Brainard, of Unionville.  He is the Atlas who has sustained the whole world of the law-on his back until he has grown hump-backed; and that attitude is the only way in which he can look into the law on his back, as you remark.

“And there is Steve Mathews, mostly legs.  His face begins with his chin, and runs right up over the top of his head; that head has no more brains inside than hair out.  You see that little knob there in front?  Well, that was originally intended for a bump, and, as you see, just succeeded in becoming a wart.  Ranney suggested to him at the last term that the books were all against his straddling about the bar, as he always does.”

“That smallish man with the prominent chin and retreating forehead, is Horace Wilder, one of the best men at the bar.  You see he is pleasant and amiable.  He is a good lawyer, and give him a case which involves a question of morals and he develops immense power.”

“Who is that dark, singular-looking young man, with full beard and open throat?  Is he a lawyer?”

“That,” said Case, sadly, “is Sartliff, the most brilliant intellect our region has produced; full of learning, full of genius and strange new thoughts!  He is a lawyer, and should equal Daniel Webster.”

“What is the matter with him?”

“God only knows! men call him crazy.  If he is, the rest of us never had intellect enough to become crazy.  Look at his dress; he wears a kind of frock, tied with a hay rope, and is barefoot, I presume.  Some strange new or old idea has taken possession of him to get back to nature.  If he keeps on he will become crazy.  I must introduce you; he and you will like one another.”

“Because I am crazy, too?” laughing.

“Because you have some out-of-the-way notions, Bart, and I want you should hear him.  He will make you feel as if you were in the visible presence of the forces of nature.  He knew your brother well and liked him.”

“Where does he live?”

“Nowhere!  He remains in the open air when he can, day and night; drinks water and eats roots and herbs; sometimes a little plain bread—­never meat.  He was formerly vigorous, as you see, he is now thin and drooping.”

“Has he had any unusual history, any heart agony?”

“None that I ever heard of; nor was he particularly poetic or imaginative.  He does not attempt any business now; but goes and comes with lawyers, the most of whom now avoid him.  He has brothers, able and accomplished men, and whom he usually avoids.  He commenced business with Giddings, with a brilliant opening, ten years ago.”