 case to useless lumber.
    Mr. Cruncher had by this time taken quite a lunch of rust off his fingers in
his following of the evidence. He had now to attend while Mr. Stryver fitted the
prisoner's case on the jury, like a compact suit of clothes; showing them how
the patriot, Barsad, was a hired spy and traitor, an unblushing trafficker in
blood, and one of the greatest scoundrels upon earth since accursed Judas -
which he certainly did look rather like. How the virtuous servant, Cly, was his
friend and partner, and was worthy to be; how the watchful eyes of those forgers
and false swearers had rested on the prisoner as a victim, because some family
affairs in France, he being of French extraction, did require his making those
passages across the Channel - though what those affairs were, a consideration
for others who were near and dear to him, forbad him, even for his life, to
disclose. How the evidence that had been warped and wrested from the young lady,
whose anguish in giving it they had witnessed, came to nothing, involving the
mere little innocent gallantries and politenesses likely to pass between any
young gentleman and young lady so thrown together; - with the exception of that
reference to George Washington, which was altogether too extravagant and
impossible to be regarded in any other light than as a monstrous joke. How it
would be a weakness in the government to break down in this attempt to practise
for popularity on the lowest national antipathies and fears, and therefore Mr.
Attorney-General had made the most of it; how, nevertheless, it rested upon
nothing, save that vile and infamous character of evidence too often disfiguring
such cases, and of which the State Trials of this country were full. But, there
my Lord interposed (with as grave a face as if it had not been true), saying
that he could not sit upon that Bench and suffer those allusions.
    Mr. Stryver then called his few witnesses, and Mr. Cruncher had next to
attend while Mr. Attorney-General turned the whole suit of clothes Mr. Stryver
had fitted on the jury, inside out; showing how Barsad and Cly were even a
hundred times better than he had thought them, and the prisoner a hundred times
worse. Lastly, came my Lord himself, turning the suit of clothes, now inside
out, now outside in, but on the whole decidedly trimming and shaping them into
grave-clothes for the prisoner.
    And now, the jury turned to consider, and the great flies swarmed again.
    Mr. Carton,
