“So it’s you, Nellie?” he said, and motioned her to a chair opposite his own.

Not knowing exactly what was expected of him, Mr. Shrimplin remained standing in the middle of the room, hat in hand.

“Be seated, Shrimplin,” said the judge, sensing something of the lamplighter’s embarrassment in his presence and rather liking him for it.

“Thank you, Judge,” replied Shrimplin, selecting a straight-backed chair in a shadowy corner of the room, on the very edge of which he humbly established himself.

“Better draw nearer the fire, Shrimplin!” advised the judge.

“Thank you, Judge, I ain’t cold,” rejoined Mr. Shrimplin in his best manner.

The judge turned to the woman.  She had once been a servant in his household, but had quitted his employ to marry Joe Montgomery, and to become by that same act Mr. Shrimplin’s sister-in-law.  The judge knew that her domestic life had been filled with every known variety of trouble, since from time to time she had appealed to him for help or advice, and on more than one occasion at her urgent request he had interviewed the bibulous Joe.

“I hope you are not in trouble, Nellie,” he said, not unkindly.

“Yes I am, Judge!” cried his visitor in a voice worn thin by weariness.

“It’s that disgustin’ Joe!” interjected Mr. Shrimplin from his corner, advancing his hooked nose from the shadows.  “Don’t take up the judge’s time, Nellie; time’s money, and money’s as infrequent as a white crow.”

And then suddenly and painfully conscious of his verbal forwardness, the little lamplighter sank back into the grateful gloom of his corner and was mute.

“It’s my man, Judge—­” said Nellie.

And the judge nodded comprehendingly.

“I don’t know how me and my children are to live through the winter, I declare I don’t, Judge, unless he gives me a little help!”

“And the winter ain’t fairly here yet, and it’s got a long belly when it does come!” said Mr. Shrimplin.

Immediately the little man was conscious of the impropriety of his language.  He realized that the happy and forcefully expressed philosophy with which he sought to open Custer’s mind to the practical truths of life, was a jarring note in the judge’s library.

“Joe’s acting scandalous, Judge, just scandalous!” said Nellie with sudden shrill energy.  “That man would take the soul out of a saint with his carryings-on!”

“It seems to me there is nothing new in this,” observed the judge a little impatiently.  “Is he under arrest?”

“No, Judge, he ain’t under arrest—­” began Nellie.

“Which ain’t saying he hadn’t ought to be!” the little lamplighter snorted savagely.  He suddenly remembered he was there to give his moral support to his sister-in-law.

“That man’s got a new streak into him, Judge.  I thought he’d about done everything he could do that he shouldn’t, but he’s broke out in a fresh spot!”