that scoundrel locked up tight," said the Marshal, pointing behind him—and two soldiers brought in a watchman, whom they held close prisoner, and whom they had disarmed of his staff and horn.
"Are the watchmen gone all mad to-night?" exclaimed the chief of police.
"I'll have the rascal punished for his infamous verses," said the Field-Marshal angrily.
"Your excellency," exclaimed the trembling watchman, "as true as I live, I never made a verse in my born days."
"Silence, knave!" roared the Marshal. "I'll have you hanged for them! And if you contradict me again, I'll cut you in two on the spot."
The police officer respectfully observed to the Field-Marshal that there must be some poetical epidemic among the watchmen, for three had been brought before him within the last quarter of an hour, accused of the same offence.
"Gentlemen," said the Marshal to the officers who had accompanied him, "since the scoundrel refuses to confess, it will be necessary to take down from your remembrance the words of his atrocious libel. Let them be written down while you still recollect them. Come, who can say them?"
The officer of police wrote to the dictation of
