SLOW, AND NOT QUITE SURE.
(A Suggestion not necessarily Founded upon Facts.)
Scene—The Interior of a Police Court: a case is in course of disposal. The Magistrate has made up his mind to deal summarily in the matter.
Magistrate. And so you say that the prisoner has a bad record?
Policeman X. A very bad one, your Worship. We have strong reasons for believing that he has been in every prison in the kingdom for crimes of varying gravity.
Magistrate. By the new anthropometrical system, you can identify him?
Policeman X. Certainly. I have here certificates from no less than two hundred gaol governors declaring his hair to be the colour of pea-green.
Magistrate. And I notice the prisoner has hair of that peculiar hue.
Policeman X. Certainly, your worship; and on that account I claim that you impose upon this man the heaviest punishment within your jurisdiction.
Magistrate. And now prisoner what have you to say?
Prisoner. Merely this, that the man who last night broke into the jeweller's shop was not myself but another. I had nought to do with the crime. The constable has sworn that the caitiff had pea-green hair. Now I have not pea-green hair; my locks are black.
Magistrate. Assertion is not proof. By the anthropometrical system we can spot you. Look at yourself in the glass and you will see that your hair is pea-green.
Prisoner. You are wrong, Sir. You see my curls are of raven black. (Removes his wig.) Am I not right? Am I not entitled to release?
Magistrate. Certainly. Officers, do your duty. Release your prisoner!
[The accused is liberated, and, in the company of some trusted pals, leaves the Court without a stain upon his character, and with the intention of doing a little more burgling before he is many hours older. Curtain.