Just wait until I see my lawyer!" So down he came to my office and fumed and chattered for an hour or more about the extra three dollars on his trousers.

If he had been less abusive the tailor might have overlooked the matter; but even a tailor has a soul, and this time the man swore to have the law on his cantankerous customer.
"Fight to the last ditch!" shouted the old man.

"Don't yield an inch!" A day or two later the tailor served my client, whose name was Wimbleton, with a summons and complaint; and I was forced to put in an answer, in which I took issue upon the reasonable value of the trousers.

By the time I had drawn the papers and listened to my client's detailed history of the transaction, as well as his picturesque denunciation of his opponent, I had already put in about a hundred dollars' worth of my time without any prospect of a return.

I knew that if the case were tried it would mean a day lost for myself and a judgment against my client.