Showing that appropriateness of time and place should be studied in our pastimes.

The next night, sitting over the cheerful fire and comfortably resting after the labours of the day, I dreamed again, and I saw that Horatio Snigger was “the Office Boy” of Mr. Prigg. He had been in the employment of that gentleman about two years. He was tall for his money, standing, in his shoes, at least five feet six, and receiving for his services, five shillings and sixpence a week, (that is, a shilling for every foot and a penny for every odd inch), his last rise (I mean in money,) having taken place about a month ago.

Horatio was a lad of as much spirit as any boy I ever saw. I do not believe he had any liking for the profession, but had entered it simply as his first step in life, utterly in the dark as to whither it would lead him. It was, I believe, some disappointment to his father that on no occasion when he interrogated him as to his “getting on,” could he elicit any more cheering reply than “very well.” And yet Horatio, during the time he had been with Mr. Prigg, had had opportunities of studying character in its ever-varying phases as presented by Courts of Justice and kindred places.

“Kindred places!” Yes, I mean “Judges’ Chambers,” where any boy may speedily be impressed with the dignity and simplicity of the practice of the Law, especially since the passing of the Judicature Act. To my lay readers who may wish to know what “Judges’ Chambers” means, I may observe that it is a place where innumerable proceedings may be taken for lengthening a case, embarrassing the clients, and spending money. It is, to put it in another form, a sort of Grands Mulets in the Mont Blanc of litigation, whence, if by the time you get there you are not thoroughly “pumped out,” you may go on farther and in due time reach the top, whence, I am told, there is a most magnificent view.

But even the beauty of the proceedings at Judges’ Chambers failed to impress Horatio with the dignity of the profession. He lounged among the crowds of chattering boys and youths who “cheeked” one another before that august personage “the Master,” declaring that “Master” couldn’t do this and “Master” couldn’t do that; that the other side was too late or too soon; that his particulars were too meagre or too full; or his answers to interrogatories too evasive or not sufficiently diffuse, and went on generally as if the whole object of the law were to raise as many difficulties as possible in the way of its application. As if, in fact, it had fenced itself in with such an undergrowth of brambles that no amount of ability and perseverance could arrive at it.

From what I perceived of the character of Horatio, I should say that he was a scoffer. He was a mild, good-tempered, well-behaved boy enough, but ridiculed many proceedings which he ought to have reverenced. He was a great favourite with Mr. Prigg, because, if anything in the world attracted the boy’s admiration, it was that gentleman’s pious demeanour and profound knowledge. But the exuberance of the lad’s spirits when away from his employer was in exact proportion to the moral pressure brought to bear upon him while in that gentleman’s presence. As an illustration of this remark and proof of the twofold character of Horatio, I will relate what I saw after the “Master” had determined that the tail of the 9 was a very nice point, but that there was nothing in it. They had all waited a long time at Judge’s Chambers, and their spirits were, no doubt, somewhat elated by at last getting the matter disposed of.

Horatio heard Mr. Prigg say to Mr. Locust, “What a very nice point!” and had heard Mr. Locust reply, “A very nice point, indeed!” And Mr. Gride, the clerk, say, “What, a very nice point!” and somebody else’s clerk say, “What a very nice point!” And Horatio felt, as a humble member of the profession, he must chime in with the rest of the firm. So, having said to Locust’s boy, “What a dam nice point!” he went back to his lonely den in Bedford Row and then, as he termed it, “let himself out.” He accomplished this proceeding by first taking off his coat and throwing it on to a chair; he next threw but his arms, with his fists firmly clenched, as though he had hardly yet to its fullest extent realized the “niceness” of the point which the Master had determined. The next step which Horatio took was what is called “The double shuffle,” which, I may inform my readers, is the step usually practised by the gentleman who imitates the sailor in the hornpipe on the stage. Being a slim and agile youth, Horatio’s performance was by no means contemptible, except that it was no part of his professional duty to dance a Hornpipe. Then I saw that this young gentleman in the exuberance of his youthful spirits prepared for another exhibition of his talent. He cleared his throat, once more threw out his arms, stamped his right foot loudly on the floor, after the manner of the Ethiopian dancer with the long shoe, and then to my astonishment poured forth the following words in a very agreeable, and, as it seemed to me, melodious voice,—

“What a very nice point, said Prigg.”

Then came what I suppose would be called a few bars of the hornpipe; then he gave another line,—

“What a very nice point, said Gride.”

(Another part of the hornpipe.) Then he sang the third and fourth lines, dancing vigorously the while:

“It will take a dozen lawyers with their everlasting jaw:
It will take a dozen judges with their ever changing law”—

(Vigorous dancing for some moments), and then a pause, during which Horatio, slightly stooping, placed two fingers of his left hand to the side of his nose, and turning his eyes to the right, sang—

“And”—

Paused again, and finished vehemently as follows:

“Twenty golden guineas to decide!”

Then came the most enthusiastic hornpipe that ever was seen, and Horatio was in the seventh Heaven of delight, when the door suddenly opened, and Mr. Prigg entered!

It was unfortunate for Horatio that his back being towards the door he could not see his master enter; and it need scarcely be said that the noise produced by the dance prevented him from hearing his approach.

Mr. Prigg looked astounded at the sight that presented itself. The whole verse was repeated, and the whole dance gone through again in the sight and hearing of that gentleman. Was the boy mad? Had the strain of business been too much for him?

As if by instinct Horatio at last became aware of his master’s presence. A change more rapid, transformation more complete I never saw. The lad hung his head, and wandered to the chair where his coat was lying. It took him some time to put it on, for the sleeves seemed somehow to be twisted; at length, once more arrayed, and apparently in his right mind, he stood with three-quarter face towards his astonished master.

Mr. Prigg did not turn his head even on this occasion. He preserved a dignified silence for some time, and then spoke in a deep tragic tone:

“Horatio!”

Horatio did hot answer.

“What is the meaning of this exhibition, Horatio?”

“I was only having a little fun, sir,” said the youthful clerk.

“I am not averse to youth enjoying itself,” said Mr. Prigg; “but it must be at proper seasons, and in appropriate places; there is also to be exercised a certain discretion in the choice of those amusements in which youth should indulge. I am not aware what category of recreation your present exhibition may belong to, but I may inform you that in my humble judgment—I may be mistaken, and you may know far better than I—but as at present advised, I do not see that your late performance is consistent with the duties of a solicitor’s clerk.” And then he muttered to himself, “Quite so.”

After this magnificent rebuke, Mr. Prigg drew out his cambric handkerchief, and most gently applied it to his stately nose.

“Again,” said Mr. Prigg, “I heard language, or thought I heard language, which I should construe as decidedly derogatory to the Profession which you serve and to which I have the honour to belong.”

“I was only in fun, sir,” said Horatio, gathering confidence as Mr. Prigg proceeded.

“Quite so, quite so; that may be, I sincerely hope you were; but never make fun of that by which you live; you derive what I may call a very competent, not to say handsome, salary from the proceedings which you make fun of. This is sad, and manifests a spirit of levity.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, sir.”

“Very well,” said the good man, “I am glad to perceive that you are brought to a proper sense of the impropriety of your conduct. I will not discharge you on this occasion, for the sake of your father, whom I have known for so many years: but never let this occur again. Dancing is at all times, to my mind, a very questionable amusement; but when it is accompanied, as I perceived it was on this occasion, with gestures which I cannot characterize by any other term than disgusting; and when further you take the liberty of using my name in what I presume you intended for a comic song, I must confess that I can hardly repress my feelings of indignation. I hope you are penitent.”

Horatio hung down his head, and said he was very sorry Mr. Prigg had heard it, for he only intended it for his own amusement.

“I shall take care,” said Mr. Prigg, “that you have less opportunity for such exercises as I have unfortunately witnessed.” And having thus admonished the repentant youth, Mr. Prigg left him to his reflections. I am glad Mr. Prigg did not return while the pale boy was reflecting.