But, lo! this child
makes his dramatic entrance into the presence of the court, and, under
the inspired guidance of defendant's counsel, tells his story of
eavesdropping, and when it is done my learned friend has the temerity
to ask you to throw away your reason, to dismiss logic from your
minds, to trample law under your feet, to scatter the evidence to the
four winds of heaven, and to believe what? Why, a boy's silly story of
an absurd and palpable lie?
"I did not go upon the witness-stand to contradict this fairy tale; it
did not seem to be worth the while.
"Consider it for a moment. This youth says he came to my office last
night and found me in the inner room in conversation with another
person. I shall not deny that. Supposing it to be true, there was
nothing strange or wrong in it, was there? But what does this boy whom
my learned friend has lauded to the skies for his manliness and honor
do next? Why, according to his own story, he steals into the darkness
of the outer office and seats himself to listen to the conversation
in the inner room, and hears--what? No good of himself certainly.
Eavesdroppers never do hear good of themselves. But he thinks he hears
the voice of a person whom no one in this court-room ever heard of or
thought of before, nor has seen or heard of since--a person who, I
daresay, has existence only in this child's imagination; he thinks
he hears this person declare that he, Ralph, is not Robert Burnham's
son, and, by way of embellishing his tale, he adds statements which
are still more absurd, statements on the strength of which my learned
friend hopes to darken in your eyes the character of the counsel for
the plaintiff.
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