When Small Wigs and Big Fees first appeared in print, it was instantly recognized as a sharp satire on the legal profession, capturing the attention of both critics and the public for its biting wit. Charles Dana Gibson was already famous for his iconic "Gibson Girl" illustrations, but here he turned his pen toward the world of lawyers, lampooning the traditions and vanities of the courtroom. The exact date and medium remain uncertain, but the work is widely believed to have been published in the early 20th century, when Gibson was contributing regularly to magazines like Life and Collier's Weekly.

The title itself became a catchphrase among readers, quoted in editorials and cartoons lampooning the legal trade. Its enduring popularity speaks to the universality of its theme: the spectacle of justice as theater. At the heart of the illustration, a row of diminutive, bespectacled lawyers—each adorned with an oversized barrister's wig—sit in solemn judgment, their exaggerated headgear dwarfing their bodies and underscoring the absurdity of their authority. In front of them, a nervous client clutches his hat, his anxious expression contrasting with the lawyers' self-satisfied air.

Gibson's deft pen lines exaggerate the lawyers' features, making their noses and chins as prominent as their wigs, a visual cue to their self-importance. The composition draws the viewer's eye from the anxious client up to the towering wigs, then across the row of nearly identical faces, reinforcing the sense of a closed, insular world. Unlike the more reverent depictions of legal proceedings by artists such as Honoré Daumier, Gibson's approach is openly mocking, using caricature to lay bare the foibles of his subjects. As with many of Gibson's works, Small Wigs and Big Fees was created for mass reproduction, intended for the pages of illustrated magazines rather than the walls of a gallery.

Original drawings by Gibson were often sold or given to friends, but many have disappeared or reside in private collections, making the physical history of this particular piece difficult to trace. Today, it is most often encountered in anthologies of Gibson's work or in digital archives, where its satirical bite remains undiminished. The illustration marks a period in Gibson's career when he was at the height of his influence, shaping public opinion not just through the "Gibson Girl," but through a broader commentary on American society and its institutions.