Al obeyed and after he had taken the oath to speak the “truf, the hull truf, an’ nuttin’ but de truf,” the lawyer for the plaintiff began his story.
“’N it please yuh honor, yistiddy whiles I was lookin’ over important papers, I hears a hue an’ cry outside my office window, so I jumps up and looks. Down th’ street went dis niggeh an’ a affer him went a lady of color what sells sweets on the street—she got a genuwine license from you, yuh honor,” the man interrupted himself, suddenly remembering how important such an item would be in influencing justice.
The magistrate bowed with dignity, and the plaintiff continued: “Dis Al Colman held a stick of sweets an’ was beatin’ it foh de open when I steps out and interviews de hull thing. It is a plain case of larceny, yuh honor, an’ my client claims damages an’ costs. I have an important witness to testify to de truf of dis situation, yuh honor.”
The judge glared at poor Al and the self-styled lawyer beckoned to Lieutenant Bray to step up. But Jack had already whispered to Bray to go easy on the poor black man, and call on his friends if he needed any help in dragging Al out of the ditch.
The lawyer next asked Al all sorts of questions, in order to catch him lying or attempting to get out of the claim of theft.
“Whar yuh reside, Al?” demanded the lawyer.
“Anywhar I finds a welcome,” murmured Al, his eyes fixed upon the splendor of the officer’s uniform as he came up to offer his testimony in the case.
“And what yuh works at, Al?” demanded the questioner suavely, satisfied with the reply to his first question.
“Now yuh know I does any odd job I kin git,” said Al.
“How come yuh helped yuh-self to dem sweets, Al?” was the next question.