“Why, I don’t know,” replied the little man coolly; “saves time, I suppose. If it’s near dinnertime, the foreman takes out his watch when the jury has retired, and says, ‘Dear me, gentlemen, ten minutes to five, I declare! I dine at five, gentlemen.’ ‘So do I,’ says everybody else, except two men who ought to have dined at three and seem more than half disposed to stand out in consequence. The foreman smiles, and puts up his watch:⁠—‘Well, gentlemen, what do we say, plaintiff or defendant, gentlemen? I rather think, so far as I am concerned, gentlemen⁠—I say, I rather think⁠—but don’t let that influence you⁠—I rather think the plaintiff’s the man.’ Upon this, two or three other men are sure to say that they think so too⁠—as of course they do; and then they get on very unanimously and comfortably. Ten minutes past nine!” said the little man, looking at his watch. “Time we were off, my dear sir; breach of promise trial-court is generally full in such cases. You had better ring for a coach, my dear sir, or we shall be rather late.”