"Prisoner at the bar, what have you to say in your defense."
At the same time I thought it rather hard on the young man, but he came up to the scratch smiling and proved an alibi.
A magistrate's office is a good place for picking up humor, but it doesn't compare with the den of an installment book agent.
The manager of the office was hauling a candidate for a position over the coals while I waited for an interview, and quite a few amusing tidbits floated over the top of the partition.
"Ever done any canvassing before, Mr. Jones?"
"Well, I worked a year in a Chicago house where they packed hams for the market."
"You are a little hoarse this morning—I hope your voice is reliable, for you'll need it in this business."
"That's all right, the neighbors think I got a good voice—they all advised me to go abroad and study."
"You complained of having the toothache—will that prevent you from carrying on business?"