muttered the justice; but was interrupted by Mr. Affidavy crying, bluffly,
"The devil take your verses. Come, let's to business. Now, Squire, you 'know your business,'—you never, I reckon, held an inquest before in your life;—how do you begin?"
"How do I pegin?" said the official, scratching his head; "fy, I reckons, ve must have a talk apout it, and then say, the man vas murdtered."
"The deuce you must? Why that's prejudging the case altogether. How do you know the man was murdered? where's your witnesses?"
"Vitnesses!" said Schlachtenschlager; "fy, I reckons the case is clear enough mitout 'em."
"Ah, I thought you'd say so," cried the other; "but that won't do. Where's the murderer?"
"Vy, I committed him."
"Where's the prisoner, Dancy Parkins?"
"Vy, I committed him along mit the other."
"Where's the informant, that vagabond—(I reckon, he'll be a witness for the Commonwealth)—that stripe-coat fellow, Stirk—Stick,—no,—Sterling's his name?"