"Judge (very indignant).—Did you say I've been on a spree?
"Edward.—Old Mother Bidwell's, down in Mott street.
"Clerk.—Do you mean hereafter to treat this Court respectfully?
"Edward.—No, sir; I hope not.
"Officer with red hair.—If you ain't crazy, I'm a jack-ass.
"The excited Judge here commenced making out his commitment, but the Clerk, who began to see the fun, thought best to ask him a few more questions first, and accordingly inquired of Bobber what he traded in, as he seemed to own a sloop. The prisoner, who had been cogitating upon the last remark of the red-haired officer until he had waxed wroth, burst out:
"'Jack-ass! jack-ass! yes, you are a jack-ass; not a doubt of it.'
"Clerk.—Come, tell me what kind of liquor did you drink yesterday?
"Edward.—Soap, candles, coffee, bar-lead, chickens, coal, pine kindling-wood, smoked hams, and white-wood shingles—