fairly fool er born lawyer. He allus knows whar, when an' whicher way er cat's goin' ter jump. Tawk erbout er lawyer hangin' out his shingle! Thet's jist er blind—the shingle stays right in hand ready fer ter kiver er ter kill." Aaron Burr was now gazing eagerly into the old J. P.'s blue-goggled visage. The squire represented to his mind the entire law of the county—one big, fat folio of justice journeying from place to place like a travel ing library. "Do I look like er man thet's been picked by sharp-tongued lawyers, son?" queried the J. Г. at length. He had removed his hat to wipe the perspiration from his bald head with a red bandanna handkerchief. "No, but yer head does," snickered the boy, unaware that he was committing a breach of propriety. •'What'd I tell yer erbout respectin' you' elders?" cried Aaron Burr's father, catching up a brush. "Ain't yer never goin' ter larn no sense. You ain't been no manner er count since I bought thet last almanac." "Let him erlone, Robey," interposed the kindly old J. P. "I axed him er pinted ques tion an' he giv me er pinted answer. Thet told me stronger than ever thet he'd be ekal to ther courthouse tricks. Er lawyer, Robey Bird, er lawyer must be quick on .ther trig ger er he won't fire his gun. "Gimme thet boy fer erwhile an' I'll carry him through ther acts uv the last legislatnr (ef they don't ruin him by showin' him gim let-holes fer rascals ter crawl out uv payin' ther debts), an' portions uv Blackstone (who must hev dried up an' blowed away), with a taste uv Bancroft's history. You needn't laugh. I studied law an' wuz admitted ter ther bar before I wuz permoted ter er J. P." The portly J. P. adjusted his blue goggles and gazed with supreme dignity into the far mer's face. "What say you?" he continued. "I'm gettin' up er law school. Can I have Aaron Burr er not?"
"Wai, he's no count fer nothin' else. Ef you don't git him I reckin the divil will. He kin go." "You hear that, A. B. Bundle up an' let's be goin'," said the J. P., triumphantly. Aaron Burr, being highly elated, dashed toward the house, and soon reappeared with the necessary paraphernalia; to wit, a few hickory shirts and extra breeches, with a plentiful sprinkling of hooks, pins, jackknives and a long spear to torture flies. "Red-headed, all wool an' er yard wide!" exclaimed the J. P., as he patted Aaron Burr on the head. "Jist the stuff ter weave inter er slick an' shiny piece uv lawyer goods." Then the preceptor and pupil drove off to ward Breakertown. Something like seven years managed to get up and go off from the honorable J. P. of Breakerton, leaving him grimmer, grayer and lamer in the joint, but not a whit less discerning in his cases. He still looked at the world through his big" blue goggles. He had done his part in stocking the State with lawyers, sending them off with heads full of Blackstone and "Bankrupt" history, as he now called it. Aaron Burr Bird had cvoluted from a le gal tadpole to a full-grown frog with big bass voice and swelling shirt front before the jury, though his legal associates called him "Red Bird." He had won many important cow and hog cases at the "Breakerton Bar," no tably one in which he represented the plain tiff in a suit to recover damages for a "yearl ing" calf which had tried to butt the local freight off the track. The railroad people claimed self-defence. But Aaron Burr got them "up a tree1' by developing on the crossexamination that the engineer had boasted to the fireman that he didn't propose to be "bull-dozed any longer." Old J. P.'s face beamed with pride when the jury brought in a verdict for the plaintiff. He smiled broadly, reminiscently, at the con sternation of the railroad attorneys. "Up a
