202 CANADIAN NIGHTS 



" dime novels " and playing cards in the stifling 

 saloon below, where we were veritably " cribbed, 

 cabined, and confined " — stuffed as close as 

 herrings in a cask. There was something rather 

 comical in the whole proceeding. To my insular 

 and antiquated notions, a judge is an aw^ful form 

 clad in a solemn wig and wrapped in gorgeous 

 robes and the majesty of the law, and barristers 

 and the whole personnel of a court of justice are 

 superhuman creatures, extraordinary mortals to be 

 looked upon with wonder not unmixed with awe ; 

 and to see eminent counsel staggering about the 

 slippery deck in long boots and guernsey frocks, 

 and the highest functionary of the law con- 

 descending to exchange remarks concerning the 

 weather with grimy stokers and tarry-breeched 

 seamen, and even experiencing inner qualms and 

 spasms when our little ship tossed and struggled 

 across some wide exposed bay, quite destroyed my 

 illusions, and produced a feeling of somewhat 

 irreverent amusement. The mere fact of the judge 

 going his circuit in a tug-steamer appeared strange 

 and incongruous, though why he should not go 

 in a steamer just as naturally as in a train or a 

 coach-and-four, I do not know. Indeed, it was 

 the natural mode of progression in Newfoundland, 



