Mr. Tutt, startled, stopped and looked back. Courteously also stopped Wong Get and Buddha. A throng was fast gathering in front of the Shanghai and Hongkong Restaurant.

Then Murtha appeared, shouldering his way roughly through the mob. Catching sight of Mr. Tutt, he paused long enough to whisper hoarsely in the lawyer's ear: “Well, they got Mock Hen! Five bullets in him! But if they were going to, why in hell couldn't they have done it three months ago?”

Samuel and Delilah

“And it came to pass, when she pressed him daily with

her words, and urged him, so that his soul was vexed

unto death; that he told her all his heart, and said unto

her, There hath not come a razor upon mine head;…

if I be shaven, then my strength will go from me, and I

shall become weak and be like any other man.”

– JUDGES XVI, 16, 17.

“Have you seen '76 Fed.' anywhere, Mr. Tutt?” inquired Tutt, appearing suddenly in the doorway of his partner's office.

Mr. Tutt looked up from Page 364 of the opinion he was perusing in “The United States vs. One Hundred and Thirty-two Packages of Spirituous Liquors and Wines.”

“Got it here in front of me,” he answered shortly. “What do you want it for?”

Tutt looked over his shoulder.

“That's a grand name for a case, isn't it? 'Packages of Wines!'“ he chuckled. “I made a note once of a matter entitled 'United States vs. Forty-three Cases of Frozen Eggs'; and of another called 'United States vs. One Feather Mattress and One Hundred and Fifty Pounds of Butter'-along in 197 Federal Reports, if I remember correctly. And you recall that accident case we had-Bump against the Railroad?”

“You can't tell me anything about names,” remarked Mr. Tutt. “I once tried a divorce action. Fuss against Fuss; and another, Love against Love. Do you really want this book?”

“Not if you are using it,” replied Tutt. “I just wanted to show an authority to Mr. Sorg, the president of the Fat and Skinny Club. You know our application for a certificate of incorporation was denied yesterday by Justice McAlpin.”

“No, I didn't know it,” returned Mr. Tutt. “Why?”

“Here's his memorandum in the Law Journal,” answered his partner. “Read it for yourself”:

Matter of Fat and Skinny Club, Inc. This is an

application for approval of a certificate of incorporation

as a membership corporation. The stated purposes are

to promote and encourage social intercourse and good

fellowship and to advance the interests of the community.

The name selected is the Fat and Skinny Club. If this

be the most appropriate name descriptive of its membership

it is better that it remain unincorporated. Application

denied.

“Now who says the law isn't the perfection of common sense?” ruminated Mr. Tutt. “Its general principles are magnificent.”

“And yet,” mused Tutt, “only last week Judge McAlpin granted the petition of one Solomon Swackhamer to change his name to Phillips Brooks Vanderbilt. Is that right? Is that justice? Is it equity? I ask you!-when he turns down the Fat and Skinnies?”

“Oh, yes it is,” retorted Mr. Tutt. “When you consider that Mr. Swackhamer could have assumed the appellation of P.B. Vanderbilt or any other name he chose without asking the court's permission at all.”

“What!” protested Tutt incredulously.

“That's the law,” returned the senior partner. “A man can call himself what he chooses and change his name as often as he likes-so long, of course, as he doesn't do it to defraud. The mere fact that a statute likewise gives him the right to apply to the courts to accomplish the same result makes no difference.”

“Of course it might make him feel a little more comfortable about it to do it that way,” suggested Tutt. “Do you know, as long as I've practised law in this town I've always assumed that one had to get permission to change one's name.”

“You've learned something,” said Mr. Tutt suavely. “I hope you will put it to good account. Here's '76 Fed.' Take it out and console the Fat and Skinny Club with it if you can.”

Mr. Tutt surrendered the volume without apparent regret and Tutt retired to his own office and to the task of soothing the injured feelings of Mr. Sorg.

A simple-minded little man was Tutt, for all his professional shrewdness and ingenuity. Like many a hero of the battlefield and of the bar, once inside the palings of his own fence he became modest, gentle, even timorous. For Abigail, his wife, had no illusions about him and did not affect to have any. To her neither Tutt nor Mr. Tutt was any such great shakes. Had Tutt dared to let her know of many of the schemes which he devised for the profit or safety of his clients she would have thought less of him still; in fact, she might have parted with him forever. In a sense Mrs. Tutt was an exacting woman. Though she somewhat reluctantly consented to view the hours from nine a.m. to five p.m. in her husband's day as belonging to the law, she emphatically regarded the rest of the twenty-four hours as belonging to her.

The law may be, as Judge Holmes has called it, “a jealous mistress,” but in the case of Tutt it was not nearly so jealous as his wife. So Tutt was compelled to walk the straight-and-narrow path whether he liked it or not. On the whole he liked it well enough, but there were times-usually in the spring-when without being conscious of what was the matter with him he mourned his lost youth. For Tutt was only forty-eight and he had had a grandfather who had lived strenuously to upward of twice that age. He was vigorous, sprightly, bright-eyed and as hard as nails, even if somewhat resembling in his contours the late Mr. Pickwick. Mrs. Tutt was tall, spare, capable and sardonic. She made Tutt comfortable, but she no longer appealed to his sense of romance. Still she held him. As the playwright hath said “It isn't good looks they want, but good nature; if a warm welcome won't hold them, cold cream won't.”

However, Tutt got neither looks nor cold cream. His welcome, in fact, was warm only if he stayed out too late, and then the later the warmer. His relationship to his wife was prosaic, respectful. In his heart of hearts he occasionally thought of her as exceedingly unattractive. In a word Mrs. Tutt performed her wifely functions in a purely matter-of-fact way. Anything else would have seemed to her unseemly. She dressed in a manner that would have been regarded as conservative even on Beacon Hill. She had no intention of making an old fool of herself or of letting him be one either. When people had been married thirty years they could take some things for granted. Few persons therefore had ever observed Mr. Tutt in the act of caressing Mrs. Tutt; and there were those who said that he never had. Frankly, she was a trifle forbidding: superficially not the sort of person to excite a great deal of sentiment; and occasionally, as we have hinted, in the spring Tutt yearned for a little sentiment.

He did his yearning, however, entirely on the side and within those hours consecrated to the law. In his wife's society he yearned not at all. In her company he carefully kept his thoughts and his language inside the innermost circle of decorum. At home his talk was entirely “Yea, yea,” and “Nay, nay,” and dealt principally with politics and the feminist movement, in which Abigail was deeply interested.

And by this we do not mean to suggest that at other times or places Tutt was anything but conventionally proper. He was not. He only yearned to be, well knowing that he was deficient in courage if not in everything else.

But habit or no habit, likely or unlikely, Mrs. Tutt had no intention of taking any chances so far as Tutt was concerned. If he did not reach home precisely at six explanations were in order, and if he came in half an hour later he had to demonstrate his integrity beyond a reasonable doubt according to the established rules of evidence.