'A dead drunken case, your honour,' said the policeman.
'Any violence?'
'No, sir.'
'Go along with you,' said the judge to the prisoner, who hurried off delighted at his discharge.
'What's this?' next asked the judge, as a woman with unkempt hair and a fearfully black eye was placed before him.
'Fighting and making a muss in Green-street,' said the policeman.
'Isn't it Mrs. McCleary?' said the judge, looking hard at her. 'Ah, Bridget, you villain!' he continued, 'you may well hang your head, but we are too old friends for me not to recognise you. Is this the three or four hundredth time I have had you here, Bridget, for battering the boys when you have taken a drop?'
'Judge, darling--' said Mrs. McCleary.
'Whist, Bridget! none of your familiarities before strangers. If I let you go this time, will you swear to keep straight, and not be bringing your country and mine into disgrace?'
'I will, judge, by the Blessed--'