“Aren't you telling me a lie, Mr Notary? The same good-for-nothing is now shut up in my store-room under lock and key.”
“No, your honour! You have drawn the long bow a little yourself, and should not be vexed at what I say.”
“Bring a light! We will take a look at him at once!”
They returned to the headman's house; the store-room door was opened, and the headman groaned for sheer amazement as he saw his sister-in-law standing before him.
“Tell me then,” she said, stepping forward, “have you quite lost your senses? Had you a single particle of brains in your one-eyed fish-head when you locked me up in the dark room? It is a mercy I did not break my head against the iron door hinge. Didn't I shout out that it was I? Then he seized me, the cursed bear, with his iron claws, and pushed me in. May Satan hereafter so push you into hell!” The last words she spoke from the street, having wisely gone out of his reach.
“Yes, now I see that it is you!” said the headman, who had slowly recovered his composure.
“Is he not a scamp and a scoundrel, Mr Clerk?” he continued.
“Yes, certainly, your honour.”
“Isn't it high time to give all these loose fellows a lesson, that they may at last betake themselves to their work?”
“Yes, it is high time, your honour.”