The Money-Lenders Romance. his engaging aspect was, say, a couple of feet in height, for, to tell the truth, Mr. Quasimodo was a dwarf. His physical shortcomings stood him once in unexpectedly good stead. Mr. Quasimodo — who was about fifty when I knew him — was by no means insensible to the tender passion, and on one occasion a handsome but wily widow brought an action against him for breach of promise of mar riage; he being, as it happened, a very much married man, with a wife as tall as a life guardsman and two strapping daughters. The case was tried before Mr. Justice Mar tin, and Mr. Quasimodo's leading counsel was that once extremely popular advocate Mr. Serjeant Wilkins, who, after reading his brief, told the defendant that the case was one that must be " bounced " through. And the serjeant did bounce it through in a truly remarkable manner. " Gentlemen of the jury," he said at the close of a most elo quent speech, in which he endeavored to persuade the twelve honest men in the box that they were about the most intelligent and most patriotic jurymen that had ever been empanelled since the trial of the seven bishops, " you have heard the evidence for the plaintiff; and, gentlemen of the jury, you have seen and have admired that most bewitching plaintiff herself. Gentlemen, do you believe that this enchanting, this fasci nating, this captivating, this accomplished lady, would for one moment favor the
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advances or listen with anything save scorn and indignation to the amorous protestations of the wretched and repulsive homunculus, the deformed and degraded defendant?" Mr. Quasimodo looked up from the well of the court and piteously murmured : " Mr. Serjeant Wilkins! Oh, Mr. Serjeant Wil kins!" "Silence, sir!" replied the serjeant, in a wrathful undertone. " Gentlemen," he con tinued, bringing his fist down heavily on the desk before him, " do you think that this lovely lady, this fair and smiling creature, would ever have permitted an offer of mar riage to be made to her by this miserable atom of humanity, this stunted creature, who would have to stand on a sheet of notepaper to look over twopence?" The jury at once gave a verdict for the defendant. Mr. Quasimodo's exiguity of stature was assuredly no fault of his; but it must be mournfully conceded that, so far as the discounting of bills went, a more flagitious little villain rarely existed. He came to deserved grief at last; and after an interview with the magistrate at a police court, and making some very complicated arrangements to repair certain wrongs which he was accused of having done, he retired from the kite flying line of business, and subsided into private life, from which he did not emerge until the period of his decease.— G. A. S. in London Telegraph.
