A Day in a Police Court.
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A DAY IN A POLICE COURT. BY JOSEPH M. SULLIVAN. THE police court is a fertile field for the study of human nature. Here the col lege rowdy, the brawler, the loafer, the thim ble-rigger, all meet on an equal footing. The judge has ascended a few stairs to take his accustomed seat on the bench, and the court crier announces that court is open and ready for business. The calling of cases has begun, and his Honor, in a dignified tone, remarks: "Is this Patrick Flynn?" "It is, sor." "And were you drunk?" "I think I was, sor." "Officer McCarthy, was the prisoner ugly or boisterous?" "No, your Honor, I found him on the City Hall steps. He was dead to the world. He was what I call silly drunk, rum drunk." "I think, Officer McCarthy has stated the truth, your Honor. I have a bad head. I'm half fool sober, and all fool drunk. I must have been sick whin the officer found me." "Patrick, you must stop drinking." "Yes, your Honor, I intend to take the Blue Ribbon." "I'll discharge you this time, but if I find you here again, " "Faith, you won't find me here. I shall hire a swate of rooms next time I get drunk and lock myself in." "Timothy Houlihan," said his Honor to the next culprit, "you are charged with being drunk and disturbing the peace at Mike Finnigan's wake. I shall have to give you thirty days." "Thanks," said Timothy, "this is the first
time anyone has given me anything that I can remember." "None of your impudence, Timothy. I can make it six months just as well as not. Don't come here again. Disturbing the peace of a dead man is a serious misde meanor." "How can I come here when I'll be in jail?" snickered Timothy. And the clerk passed on to the next case. "Three of these girls say they go to school regularly," remarked his Honor, as four children were about to step down. The agent of the children's society, who had ar rested three as delinquents, and the other for picking up bones, took the fourth girl to one side, and said he knew the others did not go to school. "Aren't they all together?" asked the Court. "No, sir," answered one of the trio, "us don't belong to she." "What? The next girl who goes to school, is that sentence correct?" "No, sir." "What should she have said?" "Her ain't one of we." "Horrors! The next try it." "She ben't one of us three." The justice groaned, and asked the fourth girl to repeat the sentence. She said nothing about school, but replied, "She is not one of us." "You are discharged," said the Court. "The others will have a chance to study in a reformatory."
