Lawyer Quince Page #4

"Lawyer Quince" by W.W. Jacobs is a humorous short story that explores the world of a clever and resourceful lawyer, Mr. Quince, who navigates a series of comic misadventures. Set in a seaside town, the narrative showcases Jacobs' signature style of wit and commentary on human folly. As Quince interacts with various eccentric characters, the tale reveals both the absurdities of legal practice and the complexities of human relationships, ultimately offering a delightful blend of humor and insight into human nature.

• Humour
• Short story

								

marvellously short space of time, considering his age and figure, he
was seen returning with Ned Quince, flushed and dishevelled, walking by
his side.

“Here he is,” said the farmer. “Now where’s that key?”

Lawyer Quince took his son by the arm and led him into the house, from
whence they almost immediately emerged with Ned waving the key.

“I thought it wasn’t far,” said the sapient Mr. Hogg.

Ned put the key in the lock and flinging the door open revealed Celia
Rose, blinking and confused in the sudden sunshine. She drew back as
she saw her father and began to cry with considerable fervour.

“How did you get in that shed, miss?” demanded her parent, stamping.

“I—I went there,” she sobbed. “I didn’t want to go away.”

“Well, you’d better stay there,” shouted the overwrought Mr. Rose.
“I’ve done with you. A girl that ’ud turn against her own father I—I—”

He drove his right fist into his left palm and stamped out into the
road. Lawyer Quince and Mr. Hogg, after a moment’s hesitation,
followed.

“The laugh’s agin you, farmer,” said the latter gentleman, taking his
arm.

Mr. Rose shook him off.

“Better make the best of it,” continued the peace-maker.

“She’s a girl to be proud of,” said Lawyer Quince, keeping pace with
the farmer on the other side. “She’s got a head that’s worth yours and
mine put together, with Hogg’s thrown in as a little makeweight.”

“And here’s the White Swan,” said Mr. Hogg, who had a hazy idea of a
compliment, “and all of us as dry as a bone. Why not all go in and have
a glass to shut folks’ mouths?”

“And cry quits,” said the shoemaker.

“And let bygones be bygones,” said Mr. Hogg, taking the farmer’s arm
again.

Mr. Rose stopped and shook his head obstinately, and then, under the
skilful pilotage of Mr. Hogg, was steered in the direction of the
hospitable doors of the White Swan. He made a last bid for liberty on
the step and then disappeared inside. Lawyer Quince brought up the
rear.
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