* * * * *

ON THE THRESHOLD OF THEMIS.

(A Sketch in the New Law Courts in anticipation of the very next “Cause Celebre” that may have the good fortune to enlist the sympathies of the British Public.)

SCENE—­A Corridor outside the Courts appropriated to the Common Law Division of the High Court of Justice.  At each of the doors of the Court where the Great Trial of Arkass v.  Arkass and Ambo—­which abounds in “scandalous revelations in High Life”—­is proceeding, a group of would-be auditors has collected, waiting with the patience of respectable Peris for a chance of admission to the forensic Paradise within.  The Paradise, at present, is full to overflowing, and the doors are guarded by a couple of particularly stern and stolid attendants.  Each Peri is trying to wear out the endurance of the rest, and to propitiate the doorkeepers by exemplary behaviour.

[Illustration:  No—­but look here.  I know the Criminals.]

A Meek Man (to Doorkeeper, after standing in hopeful silence for three-quarters of an hour).  I suppose there’ll be a chance of getting in presently, eh?

The Doorkeeper (placidly).  None whatever, Sir.

The M.M. But they’ll be rising for luncheon in an hour or so, and some will be coming out then, surely?

Doork. Not many; them as are in stays in, mostly.

The M.M. (with a sudden recollection that he is acquainted with one of the Counsel engaged in the case).  Couldn’t you take in my card to Mr. TANFIELD?  I’m sure he’ll do anything he could for me.

    [The rest regard him with extreme disfavour, as one guilty of
    unsportsmanlike behaviour.

Doork. It won’t be no use—­there ain’t room in there as it is for a billiard-cue—­leastwise (conscientiously), a stoutish one—­but I’ll get it taken in for you, if you like.

    [He opens the door a very little, and passes the card to an
    attendant within.

Junior Members of the Junior Bar (in very clean white wigs, with hauteur).  Thought you had orders to let Counsel in before the general public?  There ought to be some rule about that, if there isn’t.

Doork. So we do, Sir; but if this gentleman’s a friend of Mr. TANFIELD’s, and he arsks me to admit him, why you see—­

Junior Junior (witheringly).  The convenience of mere Members of the Bar must give way, naturally!

    [The inside Attendant returns with card, which the
    Doorkeeper unlocks the door to receive, and then shuts it to
    with a sharp click, like a wild-beast-tamer.

Doork. (to the M.M., after perusing card by the dim light).  I told you it wouldn’t be no use, Sir.  “Please wait,” it says.