‘You’re a silly old ass, Nobby!’ said Billy.
‘That’s contempt of court.’
‘You’re a rotten old Radical!’
‘That means execution.’
‘And here goes your bench,’ shouted Billy, making a running jump at Nobby’s table, and kicking it up in the air, sending ink, pens, paper, books, &c. flying right and left.
‘Remanded! Remanded!’ shouted Nobby, brandishing a poker.
The prisoner was seized and put in ‘quod,’ or, in other words, let go. His ragging was over.
II.
‘The next prisoner,’ demanded the president when the table had been restored to its feet and the papers had been tidied up.