He looked up from his desk as I entered and eyed me sharply.
"Well, Mr.Quibble," he began gruffly, as if he were about to add, "out with what you have to say, young man, and be gone as soon as possible!" "Mr.Haight," said I with great defence, "I have called on you at the suggestion of my guardian and trustee, Mr.Tuckerman Toddleham, of Barristers' Hall, Boston, to inquire whether I may not be allowed the great privilege of a desk in your office.

I am a Harvard man, born in Salem, and of an old Massachusetts family.

Ever since I made up my mind as a boy to enter the law it has been my ambition to study in your office; and, I may add, it is also the earnest hope of my guardian, Mr.Toddleham." "Do you refer to the Mr.Toddleham of 'Toddleham on Perpetuities' ?" he asked with some interest.
"The same," I answered, for although I had never heard of the work in question, it seemed just the sort for old Toddleham's production.
"I am glad to know you, Mr.Quibble," he exclaimed, extending his hand.

"I have often wished that I could meet your guardian and ask the great Mr.Toddleham face to face what he really thinks of the Rule in Shelley's Case--what do you think of it?
What _was_ the Rule in Shelley's Case, may I ask ?" Now, I had never heard of the rule in question, so for want of a better answer I replied: "The law is no respecter of person.

I suppose the rule was _the same in his case as in any other_." Mr.Haight looked at me strangely for a moment and suddenly began to chuckle.