“Not guilty, Your Honor.”
“I wasn’t addressing you,” sniped His Honor. “I was addressing this other accused. Wait until you’re spoken to.”
“Why, judge,” protested the one on the right. “I ain’t said a word.”
§ 116 The Mysterious Stranger
The Scotch minister and his beadle, or sexton as we would call him, had attended a Masonic banquet and had done themselves, as the saying goes, exceedingly well. The dominie was a bachelor. His housekeeper was a very strict lady and he was a bit doubtful as to what his reception would be on his return to the manse. He considered the situation for a bit and then to his beadle he said:
“John, I think I’ll slip in at the back door the nicht.”
The beadle, who believed in upholding the dignity of the kirk, replied emphatically:
“You’ll do naething o’ the kind. Y’re meenister o’ this parish an’ ye’ll go in by your own front door.”
“Weel, then,” said the clergyman, “I’ll walk in front o’ you for a bit an’ you watch how I get alang.”
The minister proceeded ahead, striving to walk straight in the moonlight, and the beadle propping himself on his own unsteady pins, squinted his eyes in earnest observation.