SEVERAL evenings passed before all the members of the club again assembled. In the meantime the quantity of manuscripts had become unusually large, the members having found that the Police Courts were prolific in sights of the colossal quadruped. When they did meet it was whispered that one of the members had had some personal experience, not only as a spectator but as a prisoner. No questions, however, were propounded upon the subject, in a tone loud enough for the member in question to hear, as they desired to allow him to speak of the matter voluntarily, confess his fault, and receive the forgiveness of his fellows.

The proceedings of the evening were opened by the Higholdboy, who took his official seat, announced that the special order of the meeting was to hear the reports of members who had been present at the sessions of the Police Courts, with the view of noting down their zoölogical features.

The Higholdboy called upon Dennis, Wagstaff, and Overdale for the result of their visit to the Police Courts. Wagstaff's notebook was produced, and the lengthened narratives inscribed therein went to show the following state of facts.

Wagstaff arose one morning at six precisely, and, after having hit Dennis with his own wooden leg, and pulled Overdale's eyes open by his whiskers and hair, announced to them if they were going to visit the Essex Market Police Court that day, to see the animals, that it was time to rise. They slipped on their clothing as soon as possible, and started somewhat sooner. They passed the Odd Fellows Hall, which Overdale expatiated upon at some length as an extensive log-chain factory. He formed his conclusion from seeing three links of chain represented in a conspicuous part of the building. The Westchester House he informed them was Washington's head quarters, and under this belief they stopped some time to look at it, and speak of it in connection with the many stories related of that interesting relic of the architecture of the last century.

They arrived at length at the Essex Market, in the upper part of which the police magistrate of that judicial district sits in a big chair, for the purpose of dealing out retail justice and getting a wholesale living.

The trio ascended into the court-room, where the justice was seated, disposing of the hard cases which had accumulated during the night. Overdale was still communicative. In answer to the inquiries of Dennis, he informed that gentleman that the police clerks were associated justices, that the prisoner's cage was the jury-box, and pointed out the prisoners themselves as the jury. The humble member of the police, who is known as the doorman, Overdale said answered well the description of the Chief of the Police, contained in one of the historic works of John McLenan. Dennis inquired where the prisoners were. Overdale was unable to answer, but at last expressed it as his opinion that the persons who were standing about them must "be the malefactors." Dennis said he never could satisfactorily account for the jurors being tried, and sent out of the room in charge of officers, but he had too much confidence in the extensive knowledge and vast intelligence of Overdale, to suppose that his hirsute friend could possibly be mistaken. In consequence of this misplaced confidence on the part of Wagstaff and Dennis, the notebook of the former was filled with notes of the trials of the different members of the jury.

One case of which Wagstaff took full notes, was that of Edward Bobber, a seafaring man, of very peculiar appearance, possessing some remarkable characteristics of manner, dress, speech, looks, and action. He was charged with being drunk. In the way of physical beauty, Edward was decidedly a damaged article. He had lost one arm by a snake-bite, and been deprived of an eye by the premature explosion of a pistol, which broke his spectacles at the same time it extinguished his sinister optic. The unexpected descent of a ship-mate, from the tops, upon his head, had turned his neck so that he seemed to be keeping a perpetual look out over his shoulder with his remaining eye. His nose resembled a half-ripe tomato, and a pair of warty excrescences hung upon his face, as if some one had shot a couple of marbles at him, which had stuck to him for life. His complexion bore a close resemblance to the outside of a huckleberry-pudding. His teeth, which were unusually long, projected backward, as if they had taken a start to grow down his throat. This last peculiarity was, undoubtedly, one cause of a remarkable singularity of speech, which seriously impaired his natural facility of conversation. Some idiosyncrasy of disposition, probably, had also something to do with this lingual embarrassment, but certain it is, that Mr. Edward Bobber never answered one question until he was asked another, to which last he would give the reply intended for query number one. Whether his mental faculties needed always a second-interrogative punching up, or whether the fangs projecting downward retained one answer until displaced by another, Wagstaff and his friends were unable to decide; but they truly believe that an inquiry propounded to Edward Bobber, aforesaid, would have remained unanswered until doomsday, unless a second question followed the first.

A transcript of a conversation between him and the Clerk of the Court reads as follows:

"Clerk.– Where were you born?

"The prisoner removed his solitary orb from its guardianship, over his left shirt sleeve, rolled it slowly round until it commanded a fair view of the questioner, but said nothing. The clerk, nothing daunted, continued:

"'How long have you been in this country?'

"The face assumed a look of intelligence, and answer No. 1 came out.

"Edward.– Broome County.

"Clerk.– How old are you?

"Edward.– Two years.

"Clerk.– How long have you been drunk?"

"Edward.– Thirty-four years, seven months, and nine days.

"Clerk.– Where did you get your liquor?

"Edward (rolling his eye toward the Judge). – Been on a spree four days.

"Judge (very indignant). – Did you say I've been on a spree?

"Edward.– Old Mother Bidwell's, down in Mott street.

"Clerk.– Do you mean hereafter to treat this Court respectfully?

"Edward.– No, sir; I hope not.

"Officer with red hair.– If you ain't crazy, I'm a jack-ass.

"Edward.– Yes, sir, of course.

"The excited Judge here commenced making out his commitment, but the Clerk, who began to see the fun, thought best to ask him a few more questions first, and accordingly inquired of Bobber what he traded in, as he seemed to own a sloop. The prisoner, who had been cogitating upon the last remark of the red-haired officer until he had waxed wroth, burst out:

"'Jack-ass! jack-ass! yes, you are a jack-ass; not a doubt of it.'

"Clerk.– Come, tell me what kind of liquor did you drink yesterday?

"Edward.– Soap, candles, coffee, bar-lead, chickens, coal, pine kindling-wood, smoked hams, and white-wood shingles —

"Judge (interfering). – Prisoner, you are only getting yourself into trouble. My patience will give out. I can't stand everything. Do you think I'm made of patience?

"Edward.– Whisky; nothing but whisky, sir; upon my honor.

"The last answer proved too much for the gravity of the Court. The Judge, the Clerk, the attendant officers, and all smiled audibly. A whispered word from the Clerk explained to the Justice the true state of the case. Edward was discharged, and as he departed from the court-room, an officer, two blocks away, heard him, in answer to a request for a penny proffered by a little girl, give what was undoubtedly intended as a detailed reply to the last interrogative remark of the Police Justice."

The case of Mr. Palmerston Hook, which was also reported in Wagstaff's notebook, would seem to indicate that there was more than one way of catching fish.

"Mr. Hook was brought up as a vagrant. He was a smooth-faced individual, about old enough to vote, dressed in rather grotesque, flashy clothes, very much worn. The sleeves of his coat were quite large, in accordance with the prevailing style. But they served a purpose of utility, as was developed by the evidence, in a rather novel profession which Mr. Hook followed.

"The principal witness was Mr. James Skinner, a very respectable dealer in Catherine Market, who devotes his time and talents to purchasing eels from the catchers thereof and selling the same to citizens and others who desire to enjoy the luxury of eating eels, either fried or done up in the form of pie or any other form. Mr. Skinner has obtained for himself an enviable popularity as a man of integrity. It has never been said of him that he ever sold an eel whose recent advent upon dry land from the salt water was a matter of serious question; and to think that Mr. Palmerston Hook should have selected Mr. Skinner's stock to depredate upon is a matter of some surprise. Mr. Skinner testified as follows:

"'This 'ere feller came to my eel-stand yes'day mornin' and asked me how eels was? Sez I, 'Good as usu'l,' and I axed him if he wanted to buy. Sez he, 'How much?' Says I, 'Eight'n pence.' Sez he, 'Is them all yer got?' Sez I, 'Yis.' Ye see, jest before this feller come up, I counted 'em and there was 'zactly 'lev'n. Then this 'ere feller he 'gun to paw 'em over, and kinder jumble 'em up together, which I thowt was wery funny; and at last, sez he, 'Guess I won't take none this mornin'.' He acted so kinder sneakin' that I thowt he wasn't all right, and 'fore he got out of sight I counted the eels an' found one on 'em was missen. I put for this 'ere feller and ketched him at the corner, an' I found my 'spicions was right, for on searchin' the chap I found a neel up in 'is coat-sleeve.'

"Judge.– How did he keep the eel up in his sleeve?

"Mr. Skinner.– Well, that was done in a kinder 'genus way; he had a fish'ook on the end of a line, an' the line was run up the right coat-sleeve, over 'is shoulder, an' it come down inside of 'is coat on the left side, an' he come up to the stand, an' wen he was a kinder pawin' over the eels he was a ketchin' the fish'ook in the tail of the eel, an' as soon as it was ketched in he pulled the line with his left 'and an' drawed the eel up inter 'is sleeve; an' as soon as it was drawed up he stopped pawin' an' left, an' 'ere's the fish'ook an' line wot I found on 'im; an' I think he oughter be sent to Blackwell's Island for bein' a wagrant.

"Judge.– Hook, what have you got to say for yourself?

"Mr. Hook.– I 'aven't got nothin' to say honly I vos wery 'ungry and vas a lookin' along in the market ven I 'appened to see the heels vot this 'ere hold cock 'ad. Sez I to m'self, sez I, now, I'll hax the price and mebbee the hole voman may vant von if they's cheap. Vell, I 'appened t'ave a 'ook and line in my coat, vich I spose haccidentally got ketched in von of the heels, and ven I left to go and tell the hole voman 'ow cheap they vas, it 'ung on to the 'ook.

"Judge.– That's a pretty story to tell me. Do you suppose I am going to believe it?

"Mr. Hook.– On the honor of a gentleman that vas the vay it 'appened.

"Judge.– At any rate, I shall send you up for three months.

"Mr. Hook.– Bust me, I honly vish you 'ad to try it three months yourself, you vouldn't think it vas quite so funny.

"Mr. Palmerston Hook was conducted below.

"Another interesting feature of the proceedings during the morning grew out of the case of Mr. Wallabout Warbler, whose name was the last called.

"Mr. Warbler had reached the last stages of shabby gentility. Time had told sadly on his garments, originally of fine material and fashionable cut. His black, curly hair was whitened out by contact with whitewash, and his nose had become a garden for the culture of blossoms by far more common than they are proper. But Mr. Warbler, despite the reverses which he had evidently suffered, stood proudly and gracefully erect. If the external man was in a state of dilapidation, the spirit still was unhurt. He smiled gracefully when the Judge addressed him and told him that he was charged with having been arrested in a state of drunkenness.

"Officers Clinch and Holdem were the witnesses against Mr. Warbler. They stated substantially that about one o'clock that morning they found Mr. Warbler standing in a garbage-barrel, on the edge of the sidewalk, extemporizing doggerel to an imaginary audience. They insisted upon his stopping, when Mr. Warbler told them that it was a violation of etiquette to interrupt a gentleman when he was delivering a poem before the alumni of a college. He was evidently under the influence of liquor, and quite out of his mind. They thought, for his own safety, that they had better bring him to the station-house.

"Judge.– Mr. Warbler, you have heard what the officers have stated about your eccentric course of conduct; how did you happen to get drunk?

"Mr. Warbler.– 'Twas night, and gloomy darkness had her ebon veil unfurled, and nought remained but gas-lamps to light up this 'ere world. The heavens frowned; the twinkling orbs, with silvery light endowed, were all occult on t'other side a thunderin' big black cloud. Pale Luna, too, shed not her beams upon the motley groups which lazily were standing round like new disbanded troops —

"Judge.– It's not to hear such nonsense that I occupy this seat —

"Mr. Warbler.– A death-like stillness e'er prevailed on alley, pier and street.

"Judge.– To listen to such stuff, sir, I can't sacrifice my time —

"Mr. W.– Don't discombobilate my thought and interrupt my rhyme; I think that when misfortune is put on its defence, poetic justice, logic, law, as well as common sense, demand its story all be heard, unless ex parte proof is to send poor friendless cusses underneath the prison's roof. Shall I proceed?

"Judge.– Proceed; but don't make your tale too long.

"Mr. W.– I'll heed your words, depend upon't. I own that I was wrong in rushing headlong as I did into inebriation, but let me question now the Court; is it not a palliation of the depth of human guilt if malice don't incite to break in divers fragments State laws wrong or right, and when only human appetite, uncontrolled by human reason leads men of genius, oftentime, the dish of life to season with condiments which pro tem. the mental palate tickle, yet very often, in the end, put human joys in pickle which ain't so cussed funny; though all of the expense of grub and the et ceteras the public pays for; hence, I ask this Court (believing that its feelings are not hampered) if justice should not ever be with human mercy tempered?

"Judge.– Perhaps. Now, tell me, Warbler, where you bought your liquor.

"Mr. W.– Anon I'll tell you. Last week, Judge, prostrate was I, far sicker than to me's agreeable, with the diarrhea chronic, and sympathizing friends advised that I should take some tonic. I asked them what: at once they said, 'Get some lager-bier.' 'Twas got. 'Drink freely, boy,' said they, 'nothing need you fear, but you'll be up and on your legs.' The lager-bier 'was took;' soon every object in my sight had a very drunken look. Lager-bier (to German ears the words may be euphonic.) Tonic, certainly, it was, but decidedly too – tonic. Abnormal thirst excited it, and I went to great excesses (the statement's quite superfluous, my nose the fact confesses). Last night, attracted by the scenes which Gotham's streets present, I dressed myself in sombre clothes, and out of doors I went; to quench my thirst did I imbibe the more of lager-bier at Hoffman's on the corner, several squares from here. No more know I, 'cept in the morn I wakened from my sleep, and having sowed, perhaps I'll learn that likewise I must reap.

"Judge.– Have you got ten dollars?

"Mr. W.– 'Tis true, I hain't a red; I suppose the words unpleasant which next to me'll be said; that because by my imprudence my pocket-book's collapsed, in prison drear must I remain till ten days have elapsed.

"Judge.– I'll let you go this time.

"Mr. Warbler.– Ha, say you so? Is't true, that though my offence is rank, in vain I did not sue for mercy; ne'er 'll I fail to say both through thin and thick in the circle of my acquaintance that you're a perfect brick.

"Mr. Wallabout Warbler left the room."

Mr. Van Dam announced that he had visited the Jefferson Market Police Court one morning, and though there was much in the proceedings that was uninteresting, he had yet been able to collate some facts which he doubted not would be regarded as worthy of being recorded upon the minutes of the club.

After taking a punch, Mr. Van Dam proceeded.

He stated that a dozen or two individuals, all of whom, not having the fear of the law before their eyes, and being instigated by a morbid thirst, and who did in the city and county of New York drink, swill, imbibe, smile, guzzle, suck, and pour down various spirituous, fermented, or malt liquors, wine, beer, ale or cider, and from the effects thereof did get drunk, were severally favored with moral lectures and ten dollar fines. The first were not appreciated, and the second were not paid.

But the case which interested Mr. Van Dam most was that of four boys, named Frederick T. White, Michael Keefe, John Wheeler, and Manning Hough, who were arraigned on a charge of disorderly conduct. They were bright-looking boys of about thirteen years of age, dressed in plain but neat clothes, and with the exception of White, did not seem much to like the position they occupied. There was a devil-may-care, though not a vicious look, about White, which was positively refreshing. He seemed to rather like the position than otherwise, and from a roguish leer that was observed in his eye as he surveyed a personage who was to appear as the witness against him, Mr. Van Dam was led to anticipate something in the shape of novelty, and he accordingly prepared for the worst. The Judge told the boys the nature of the charge against them. The name of the witness being called, Mr. Conrad Heinrich Holzenkamp announced his presence by an emphatic 'Here.'

Mr. Holzenkamp was a man who was the very ideal of a lager bier saloon keeper. His weight was at least two hundred and seventy-five pounds, one half of which could be set down to lager bier. His height was not more than five feet eight, but the circumference and diameter of the lager bier were enormous. He carried himself erect by necessity to balance the lager bier in the front. His hide was in wrinkles across the back of his neck whenever he held back his head, and every wrinkle seemed ready to burst with lager bier. Mr. Holzenkamp's face looked lager bier; Mr. Holzenkamp walked lager bier, drank and ate lager bier in alternation. He thought lager bier, dreamed lager bier. In brief, Mr. Holzenkamp was composed of two things: first, the effects of lager bier; and second, lager bier.

Mr. Blotter, the clerk, administered the oath in his characteristic manner as follows:

"You solemnly swear, in the presence of Almighty God, that the evidence which you shall give in the present case, shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God, kiss the book, and get out of my way.

"Mr. Holzenkamp.– I can shwear to all de dings vat you shpeak, but to tell de whole troot, dat can I not shwear; ven I can dinks fon all dese boys have done, I tells you more as genuff to sends them to de Benidentiary for so long as dey lives; a hoonerd dings dey do vot I dinks not of.

"The Court.– Kiss the book, Mr. Holzenkamp.

"The witness proceeded to bring a gill of lager bier contained in his nose, and a half gill of lager bier contained in his lips, in contact with a venerable Bible, which has been so familiar with crime by long association that we almost wonder the text has not been long since corrupted as much as the cover. Lager bier and the Bible having come in contact, lager bier is supposed to be incapable of lying.

"The Court.– Mr. Holzenkamp, please state the circumstances connected with the arrest of these boys.

"Mr. H.– Vell, on Vensday night, at von o'clock, my koostumers dey all goes vay fom mine lager bier saloon, und I say to Yawcob to go mit him and put up de blinds; ven he goes out mineself, mine vife, ve drinks some lager bier, and den I dakes de money and counts dem and puts dem in mine pocket; ven Yawcob come in ve locks de door, and goes de shtairs up to shleep; vel mine vife and I get to de bed in, so soon as ve can, and den I shleeps; ven I bin shleep leetle vile mine vife she shakes me and say, 'Heinrich, de cats dey makes noise in de shtreets so dat I cannot shleep;' ven I vakes up I hear so much cats squall in de shtreets dat I dinks dere vas a meetin fon cat politicians. But dey makes so much noise I cannot vink mine eyes vonce to shleep; so I get up and goes to de window and say 'shcat,' 'shcat;' but de more I say shcat de more dey vill not shcat. I say to mine vife, 'Katrina, you bin so younger and so smaller as I bin, you go down in de shtreets and drives 'vay de cats.' My vife den goes down, and ven she opens de door de cat squalls not more, and she looks to see dem, but dere is not cats in de shtreets. Ven she comes de shtairs up again and say de cats bin gone ve lie on de bed to shleep; vell, ven I bin yust shleep most, mine Gott! I hear de cats so louder as before, and I say to mine vife all de cats in de city bin come on the shtep-valk fon mine lager bier saloon; dey squall like hoonerd dyvels, and I try more to shcat dem vay. But it was no goot; dey shquall – I cannot say to you so bad as dey shquall. Mine vife say dere bin a tunder-shower fon cats; ven I lie in mine bed and shtand it so long as I can, I jump up und shwear dat I shoots all de cats in de vorld; I dakes mine bistol and runs de shtairs down, but I bin so mad, und I go so quick, dat I falls the shtairs over, und in a minute finds mine head knock on de vall, my right hand in some Schweitzer cheese, de oder in de shpit-box, und von foot in de big ice-pitcher; so soon as I can gits up and goes to de door und opens it, I goes on de shtep-valk, und mine foot shlips, and I falls down on mine back, and breaks all de bones in mine body; I feels mine hand on de shtep-valk, and I find it bin all covered mit soft soap; I dries to raise mineself, but I bin so heavy dat I down falls before I get up; yust den mine vife come and help me, and bulls me fom de shtep-valk in de door; ve do not hear de cats den, und so ve goes to de beds again; so soon as ve lie down I hears de cats so vorse as de oder time – I hears notings but cats; I never was so much afraid except vonce ven a lager bier barrel fly in bieces; I goes to de vindow and I dinks I hear dem on de awning, und I gets out; yust den de cats shtop, but I say I vill find vere dey bin on de awning; I valk along und my foot trips on some shtrings, and ven I fall I hear one loud cat-shquall dat fright me so dat I dinks I bin fall on more as dhree hoonered cats; ven I can get up I feels on de shtrings, und I valks till I finds a box; I brings de box to de vindow; Katrina gets de lamp und dere ve find in de long vood shoe-box seven cats vat vas fixed dis way: seven notch holes vas cut in de side de box, and de cats was put in de box mit deir heads shtick out de holes; on de oder side de box was seven leetle notch holes vere vas de cats' dails, und a shtring vas tie to all de cats' dails; I know dat de cats come not in de box by demselves, und so I look to see vere vas de boys; I comes de shtairs down again, goes on de shtep-valk so soft as I can, and I finds vere de strings comes down fom de awning; I keeps hold de shtring till I find it come to a big sugar hogshead by de next house, and dere I find dese boys; yust den I say 'Vatch!' and de boliceman comes and dakes de boys to de station-house; I believe dey is de same boys as trouble me before.

"The Court.– Boys, what have you got to say for yourselves for such conduct?

"Master White volunteered to act as spokesman. He said:

"Well, one day we was a playing in front of this 'ere man's lager bier saloon, and he come out and threatened to lick us if we didn't stop. We kept on, and bine-by he comes to the door when we wasn't a lookin', and threw a pailful of dirty water on us. We thought we'd got as good a right to the street as he had, so we made up our minds to be even with him, and we got the box and cats and serenaded him.

"Mr. Holzenkamp stated that he baptized the boys a few days before as described. The boys promised not to bother lager bier saloon keepers any more, in consideration of which they were discharged."

Mr. Van Dam stated that the last case called was that of Mr. Timothy O'Neil.

The case he said occupied the attention of the court nearly a half hour, owing to the difficulty which the court experienced in getting him to make direct responses to his questions.

"Timothy appeared in a grey dress-coat – that is to say, it was high in the waist, with a short and pointed tail, a feature oftener produced by tailors than by literary men of the present day. Timothy's vest was red; his breeches were made of corduroy. Below them were long coarse stockings and brogans.

"The evidence went to show that Timothy had been found drunk in the street, but he was not communicative on the subject. He did not call the officer a liar after he had heard him give his evidence, nor tell the judge that he was an 'owld tief.' He said nothing until he was asked to take the usual oath. The Judge said: 'Mr. O'Neil, put your hand on the book.' Mr. O'Neil complied cautiously, fearing the result of his act. When the words of the oath were uttered he made the sign of the cross, and after being requested by the court, kissed the Bible.

"The Clerk.– What's your name?

"Prisoner.– The same as me father's.

"'What was his name?'

"'The same as mine.'

"'Tell me your name or you shall be locked up.'

"'Timothy.'

"'And what else?'

"'I haven't any middle name.'

"'I mean your last name.'

"'O'Neil.'

"'How long have you been in the city?'

"'Since I come to the counthry.'

"'How long is that?'

"'Pat Hooligan can tell ye betther nor I can.'

"'What month was it?'

"'The first Sunday in Lint.'

"'Where do you live?'

"'Wid Biddy and the childer.'

"'Where do they live?'

"'The second floor, back room, bad luck to the bugs that's in it.'

"'I mean what street?'

"'Mike Henessy's store is on the first floor.'

"'Tell me what street the house is on?'

"'Who the divil can tell whin they are changin' the names of the blackguard streets so much?'

"'What was the street called before the name was changed?'

"'Anthony street; they calls it by another name now.'

"'Worth street I suppose you mean?'

"'I mane that the painter should have put it Worthless street.'

"'Whereabouts in Worth street?'

"'Three doors from the corner.'

"'What corner?'

"'The corner of the street.'

"'What street?'

"'The street three doors above.'

"'Well what is its name?'

"'Bad luck to you, why didn't ye ax me that before?'

"'Well, tell me the name.'

"'Faith I don't know miself. It's an alley.'

"'Well, what's the number of the house?'

"'The number on the door do you mane?'

"'Certainly.'

"'There isn't anny.'

"'What is your trade?'

"'Me father never 'prenticed me.

"'I mean what do you work at?'

"'I don't do any work.'

"'Why?'

"'Because you've got me locked up in prison.'

"'Will you tell me what you work at when out of prison?'

"'I'm a laborin' man, sir'

"'At what were you employed?'

"'Haird work.'

"'What kind of work?'

"'In the shores' (sewers).

"'You are charged with being drunk.'

"'Dhrunk, is it. Faith, I never was more sober in my life than I am at this minute.'

"'That may be; but here are a half-dozen men who are ready to swear that they saw you drunk yesterday.'

"'Av it comes to that, can't I bring twiste as manny who will swear that they didn't see me dhrunk yisterday.'

"'What kind of liquor did you drink?'

"'Mighty bad liquor, and ye'd say the same av ye was to thry it.'

"'Was it malt or spirituous liquor?'

"'It was nayther; it was whisky.'

"'Where did you purchase it?'

"'At the Dutchman's.'

"'Where is his store?'

"'On the corner.'

"'What corner?'

"'The corner nearest to where they're buildin' the shtore.'

"'Where is that?'

"Where I was workin'.'

"The Court.– What was O'Neil doing when you found him?

"Officer.– He was lying very drunk in a hole which he had been digging.

"Prisoner.– Be me sowl you're wrong for wonst; I didn't dig the howl; I dug out the dirt and left the howl.

"'Were you ever up before the Court before?'

"'No, nor behind aither; when I want to be again, I'll sind to your honor and let ye know.'

"'If I let you of this time will you keep sober?'

"'Faith I will, unliss the Dutchmin keep betther liquor nor they do now.'

"'You may go.'

"'Thank ye, sir – ye're a gintleman, av there iver was wan.'

"Mr. Timothy O'Neil left the court-room."

Mr. Dropper also proposed to relate the experience of some half a dozen mornings which he had spent in the pursuit of amusement under difficulties, when he had occupied himself in seeing the sights around the Jefferson Market Police Court.

"On one of the mornings which I devoted to visiting the Tombs," said Mr. Dropper, "the class of prisoners varied. Most of them claimed to be from the western of the British Isles. Others said they were born in Cork, Clare, Down, and other counties. A number answered to patronymics to which were prefixed the letter O, and an apostrophe. One party, who called themselves Fardowners, looked brick-bats at another party who occupied a remote corner of the cage, and who claimed to be Connaughtmen. The remainder of the prisoners were Irish.

"An interesting feature in the proceedings of the morning was a case in which Owen Shaughnessy, Patrick Mulholland, Michael O'Shea, Timothy Leahey, Dennis Maroney, Dermot McDermott, Phelim Flannegan, Bridget O'Keefe, Mary McBride, Ellen Dougherty and Bridget Casey were the defendants. As the Judge called out their names, the prisoners severally responded. They were all, as their names would indicate, of Irish birth. The men, evidently long-shoremen and laborers, and the women, servants. Their garments, in some instances, were torn, and in other ways disarranged and soiled. The men, and in one or two instances the women, showed bruises about their faces and hands, indicating their active participation in a recent scrimmage, from the effects of which they had not had the time, or soap and water, to enable them to recover.