“What have they took Holden up for?” said a man to Mr. Davenport, who, of course, was present.

“I hear it is for profane speaking and reviling,” answered Davenport.

“If everybody was to have his desarts,” said our friend, Tom Gladding, squirting a stream of tobacco juice over the floor, “I guess, some others would be worse off,” and he looked sharply at Davenport.

“It is time such things should be punished,” said Davenport.  “People begin to act as if there was no law in the country.”

“Don’t you be quite so hard on a fellow,” said Tom.  “I recollect the time before you were convarted, squire, when you swore like a trooper.”

The face of Davenport faded into a dusky grey with anger, and he looked as if he would have liked to annihilate the audacious Tom, but, by a violent effort, controlling his passion, he said: 

“I trust the Lord has forgiven me the sin.”

“I hope he has,” said Tom, “and seems to me it would be a good thing for Squire Miller to follow his example.”

“Suppose you tell him so,” said Davenport, sarcastically.

“Well, seeing as how you’re so pressing,” said Gladding “I don’t care if I do.  Squire,” he cried, addressing the Justice, and drawing the attention of all to himself, “here’s Squire Davenport says, he expects the Lord’s forgive his cussing and swearing, and thinks you’d better do as well by Father Holden, and let him run.”

A general shout of laughter greeted this speech of Gladding’s, and there were exclamations of “Well said, Tom,” and “He had him, there,” and “Who would have thought that of Davenport?”

The unfortunate victim glared, with fury in his eyes, at Tom, who, interpreting his looks to suit himself, cried—­

“He’s coming, Squire, to speak for himself.”

Davenport here protested, he had said no such thing, and that it was a shame he should be abused by a scurrilous fellow, in such a manner.

“What’s that you say?” said Gladding, stepping up to Davenport; “I’m no more squirrilous, than you are yourself; though, for that matter, there ain’t a squirrel on a walnut tree, but would be ashamed to be seen in your company,—­squirrilous fellow, eh!”

“Silence!” cried the Justice.  “Mister Gladding, I must say, I think such language very improper; and I hope, if you expect to remain here, you will stop it.”

“Squire,” said Gladding, “he begun it; I’ll leave it to the company, if he didn’t first call me a squirrel.”

“Silence!” reiterated the Justice; “we must have order; and, if you don’t choose to observe order, you must leave the room.”

“You hain’t opened court yet,” persisted the pertinacious Tom.  “I guess we know our rights.”

Here Basset came up to Tom, and, taking him by the arm, whispered a few words into his ear.  They seemed to be of a sedative character, for the latter, contenting himself with an occasional glance of mischievous fun at his late opponent, abstained from further remark.