Counsellor McCann.
COUNSELLOR McCANN. By C. B. Palmer. The counsellor, Andrew Jackson McCann, Was in many respects a remarkable man; A rich tone of voice, without stop or stammer, (The writer can't strictly vouch for his grammar), Quick-witted, astute, with unlimited gall; Of wide local repute and admired of all. Now it seems Andrew Jackson was always at odds With a brother attorney whose last name was Dodds : In all legal tilts and forensic display, The one got the best who had the last say, Till the great local action, remembered e'en now, Of Pitts versus Fowler, concerning a cow. Squire Perkins of Podunk had slept in his chair, With small knowledge of law but a judicial air; Had made all his rulings, the case had been closed; The constable roused up each juror that dozed; The court room was crowded, from far and from near, To listen to " sum up," the verdict to hear. The justice had charged, as his final act, "The jury were judges of law and of fact "; Then Counsellor Dodds began a great plea,— He covered all subjects in earning his fee, And ended by saying, "He was proud of event Of meeting a lawyer who was greater than Kent." 'T was then Andrew Jackson rose m his place; He bowed to the court, and the jury did face : "Your Honor and gentlemen, I once went to school In the old district school-house, and there learned the rule That all parts of speech are made up of three, And when I illustrate with this you'll agree." Then turning to Perkins with a wink of the eye, "That your Honor 's the Person no one will deny." Then glanced round the room, and each corner did trace With finger : " And, gentlemen, this is the Place." Then raising his voice till the rafters did ring, He pointed at Dodds : " There! there! is the Thing!"
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