"Judge.—Well, Mrs. Flaherty, I think, according to your own story, the prisoner acted more in his own defence than any other way.
"Witness.—In his own definse! Bad luck to the tongue that says so. Is—
"Judge (to prisoner).—Timothy Mulrooney, I am by no means sure that your cat did not eat the Flahertys' fish with your connivance. If the cat did so, you did wrong; but for that you are sufficiently punished by your imprisonment last night. I think you might have been less hasty in striking Michael. Is Michael in court?
"Mrs. Flaherty.—He is. Stand up, Michael, before his honor.
"Mrs. Flaherty, Michael and Timothy were standing together in a row.
"Judge.—Now I am going to insure perfect harmony in your house for six months to come; I shall bind each of you over in the sum of $200 to keep the peace.
"This was almost too great a humiliation for the blood of the O'Briens to bear; but there was no alternative. Mrs. O'Brien Flaherty satisfied herself as well as she could by looking screw-drivers at the Judge; Michael appeared demure, and Timothy appeared jolly. The bonds were given, and the interesting trio left the court.
"The Judge rose from his chair, and made a bee line for breakfast."
During the various narrations which were given during the evening, Mr. Quackenbush remained seated in the corner, saying nothing and doing as much. His eyes were partially closed, and an occasional sigh was all that escaped him.
When Mr. Dropper concluded the reading of his contributions, it was moved that Mr. Quackenbush open his mouth, and say something, under the penalty of having it pried open with the poker.