Even in this inelegant and relaxed posture he somehow
managed to maintain the air of picturesque dignity which always made his
tall, ungainly figure noticeable in any courtroom. Indubitably Mr.
Ephraim Tutt suggested a past generation, the suggestion being
accentuated by a slight pedantry of diction a trifle out of character
with the rushing age in which he saw fit to practise his time-honored
profession. "Cheer up, Tutt," said he, pushing a box of stogies toward
his partner with the toe of his congress boot. "Have a weed?"
Since in the office of Tutt & Tutt such an invitation like those of
royalty, was equivalent to a command, Tutt acquiesced.
"Thank you, Mr. Tutt," said Tutt, looking about vaguely for a match.
"That conscienceless brat of a Willie steals 'em all," growled Mr. Tutt.
"Ring the bell."
Tutt obeyed. He was a short, brisk little man with a pronounced
abdominal convexity, and he maintained toward his superior, though but a
few years his junior, a mingled attitude of awe, admiration and
affection such as a dickey bird might adopt toward a distinguished owl.
This attitude was shared by the entire office force. Inside the ground
glass of the outer door Ephraim Tutt was king. To Tutt the opinion of
Mr. Tutt upon any subject whatsoever was law, even if the courts might
have held to the contrary. To Tutt he was the eternal fount of wisdom,
culture and morality. Yet until Mr.
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