Every Chancellor was "in it," for somebody or other, when he was counsel at the bar.

Good things have been said about it by blue-nosed, bulbous-shoed old benchers in select port-wine committee after dinner in hall.

Articled clerks have been in the habit of fleshing their legal wit upon it.

The last Lord Chancellor handled it neatly, when, correcting Mr.Blowers, the eminent silk gown who said that such a thing might happen when the sky rained potatoes, he observed, "or when we get through Jarndyce and Jarndyce, Mr.
Blowers"-- a pleasantry that particularly tickled the maces, bags, and purses.
How many people out of the suit Jarndyce and Jarndyce has stretched forth its unwholesome hand to spoil and corrupt would be a very wide question.

From the master upon whose impaling files reams of dusty warrants in Jarndyce and Jarndyce have grimly writhed into many shapes, down to the copying-clerk in the Six Clerks' Office who has copied his tens of thousands of Chancery folio-pages under that eternal heading, no man's nature has been made better by it.