STEALING EX-OFFICIO.
A sturdy, squalid little fellow, calling himself Timothy Blunt, was brought before the magistrate under the following circumstances:—
The landlord of a public-house in the neighbourhood of Temple Bar, deposed that the prisoner, Timothy Blunt, came into his house that morning, as he was busy serving his customers, and staring in his face for about a minute, addressed him with a—"I say, Mister!—I werrily believes as that ere's a counterband bandanny as you've got round your neck—and as I'm a necksizeman, I shall seize it!"—And he instantly did so—to the utter dismay of mine host. "Show me your authority!" cried the almost strangled landlord; but he cried in vain—Timothy Blunt scorned to parley; and tearing off the bandanna, he was walking away with it in triumph, when mine host bethought himself "that it was a rummish sort of a go;" and, by the assistance of his customers, gave Timothy Blunt in charge to a constable.
Timothy Blunt, in his defence, assured their worships that he was "a real bony fidy excise officer; and that things were gotten to sich a pitch throughout the nation in the smuggling of bandannies, that he and his brother off'sirs had strict orders to seize them wheresoever they lighted upon them—whether in pocket or on neck."
"Let me see your authority," said the magistrate.
"I knows of no law to obleege me to show it," said the sententious Timothy.—"I seizes the bandannies for the king and his revenny, and if I'm wrong, why let the king look to it. Besides, that ere authority cost me a matter of five pounds nineteen shillings; and I should be a fool to put it in jipperdy by showing it to every man what asks for it!"
The magistrate immediately committed him to take his trial for stealing the bandanna; but nevertheless he marched off to gaol upon excellent terms with himself.