Behramji Malabari

“ No mortal thinks himself so happy as the Native Magistrate in the Mofussil. But there are times when even he, whose smile gives life to the evil-doer and whose frown annihilates him, feels insecure and uneasy. He does not fear the Collector, the Judge, the Revenue Commissioner, or the Governor himself. He meets the requisition of each with cheerful nonchalance. But whenever he hears that an English barrister is engaged to plead for a prisoner before him, or that a European soldier or sailor is defendant in a suit, the Native Magistrate loses appetite and his sleep. ”

“ Woman.—Mábáp, beating my son-in-law is beating me! (Pleader hanging doum his head, barber looking daggers at his dear wife's mother, magistrate tittering, and soldier smiling.) The whole town knows it. ”

“ With this purpose in view, the barber went to the best pleader in his town, a very learned man, who "had once gone to Bombay." What better counsel for a good cause?
On the day fixed for hearing the court was crowded by spectators, some of them Parsi lads on a holiday tour. The Magistrate came first, looking very mild and anxious. Then came the soldier, looking very cool and careless. Third came the plaintiff's pleader, looking very warm and important, and with the pleader's robe and high-heeled creaking boots on. ”