His worship told him he believed every word he had said.
"Why, thank your honour again, and I'll not disgrace your belief," rejoined the veteran grenadier. "As I was saying, your honour, I and my wife sat down kindly to drink the pint of beer—the beer the landlord gave me, your honour, because I had done my duty by his oven; and the child sat laughing on my knee, and an old comrade came in, and we drank together in memory of old times abroad, and in the pride of my heart—God forgive me!—I sung the 'Battle of Barossa Plains.'—It was a battle I served in, your honour, to the best of my ability, and my comrade had served by the side of me; and we thought no harm or offence to anybody. But this thing here—half sailor and half scamp (meaning Mr. Bybie Garmondsway), he must begin mocking me whilst I was singing, and insulting all land battles whatever. I asked him to be quiet, and he wouldn't; and after a bit the landlord marched him out, and told him to go home to his own quarters. Three times the landlord turned the envious lubber out, but he was no sooner out than he was in again, challenging me to fight. At last, your honour, I put down the child, and made a charge upon him, thinking to put him out in the street—for as to fighting with such a thing! that's neither here nor there; but I no sooner got hold of him, than, like a false lubber as he is, he turned about and tried to—to do me a private injury, your honour!—and then, sure enough, I did let fly my fist at his face; and, I if have done wrong, I must answer for it."
The landlord substantiated every part of honest Tom's story, and the magistrate instantly dismissed the complaint; at the same time telling Mr. Bybie Garmondsway that a civil tongue was the best preventive of a bruised nose.
THE DUST WHOPPER AND THE WATERMAN.
Mr. Daniel Butcher, "a jolly young waterman," was charged with assaulting Mr. Robert Wingrove, a carpet beater—commonly called "Bob Wingrove, the dust-whopper."
Mr. Bob Wingrove deposed thus:—"Your worship, I beats carpets and does portering, by which means I was looking out of my window yesterday afternoon, when I saw a servant gal[23] go by, which belongs to a house what I beats for, by which means I runs down stairs to speak to her, and Dan Butcher, this here chap in the scarlet jacket, comes up to me, and without saying 'by your leave,' or 'with your leave,' he took me two smacks in the head, right and left."
"Why did he strike you?" asked the magistrate.
"Aye, that's what I wants to know, your worship!" replied Mr. Bob.
"Then suppose you ask him now," rejoined his worship; "ask him, why he gave you the two smacks, as you call them."