The Prisoner—No, suh, Jedge. Ah wasn't drunk. Ah don't think no man's drunk s' long 's he can navigate, Jedge. I don't—
The Judge—Oh, yes, he can be! He can navigate and navigate mighty mean!—Ten dollars.
(At this point an officer speaks in a low tone to the judge, evidently interceding for the prisoner.)
The Judge (loudly)—No. That fine's very small. If it ain't worth ten dollars to get drunk, it ain't worth nothing at all. Next case!
(While the next prisoner is being brought up, the judge entertains his audience with one of the humorous monologues for which he is famous, and which, together with the summary "justice" he metes out, keeps ripples of laughter running through the room): I'm going to get drunk myself, some day, and see what it does to me. [Laughter.] Mebbe I'll take a little cocaine, too.
A Negro Voice (from back of room, deep bass, and very fervent)—Oh, no-o-o! Don't do dat, Jedge! [More laughter.]
The Judge—Where's that prisoner? If he was a Baptist, he wouldn't be so slow.
(The prisoner, a yellow negro, is brought to the bar. His trousers are mended with a large safety pin and his other equipment is to match.)
The Judge (inspecting the prisoner sharply)—You ain't a Richmond nigger. I can tell that to look at you.
The Prisoner—No, suh, Jedge. That's right.