"When h'I got there, h'I see th' prisoner goin' like h—— (h'excuse me, sir); well, 'e were goin' some, I tell 'e, with a butcher's' knife in 'is mit——"
"Did he appear intoxicated?" the colonel interrupted.
"'Orrible drunk, h'I calls it, sir—'e were that same, sir; and afore h'I gets to 'im, th' Sergeant o' Police 'ad 'im by th' seat of 'is pants an' 'oisted 'im into the waggin!"
"Have you any questions to put to the witness?" the colonel asked.
"Yes, sir," Jogman replied. "Will Sergeant Honk state, sir, how many beers he had inside him when he thought he seed me?"
The unfortunate Honk turned a deeper hue of red, and shuffled uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
"Your question is not allowed," the colonel replied sternly. "There is plenty of other evidence to show that Sergeant Honk's vision was reasonably accurate."
Other witnesses were called, but the evidence was all equally damning. At last the colonel asked the prisoner if he had any further defence to offer.
Jogman replied: "Yes, sir. Last month I fell from the boiler and my head has been queer ever since. When I take a drink I don't know what I'm doin'. I don't remember anything about all this."
And the Colonel replied: "This month you fell from the water waggon, and your head is queerer than before. For the crime of which you are guilty you might be shot; but I intend being lenient with you—on one condition—"