“No—no,” says Mr. Newboy; “took your watch.”
“An if ur took un, ur stole un, I allows,” says Bumpkin; “for I never gin it to un.”
There was so much laughter that for some time nothing further was said; but every audience knows better than to check the source of merriment by a continued uproar; so it waited for another supply.
“You must confine yourself,” says the Judge, “to telling us what took place.”
“I’ll spak truth and sheam t’ devil,” says Bumpkin.
“Now go on,” says Newboy.
“The thief stole my watch, and that be t’ plain English on ’t.”
“I shall have to commit you to prison,” says the Judge, “if you go on like that; remember you are upon your oath, and it’s a very serious thing—serious for you and serious for the young man at the bar.”
At these touching words, the young man at the bar burst out crying, said “he was a respectable man, and it was all got up against him;” whereupon Mr. Nimble said “he must be quiet, and that his lordship and the gentlemen in the box would take care of him and not allow him to be trampled on.”
“You are liable,” said the Judge, “to be prosecuted for perjury if you do not tell the truth.”