“No, sir!”
“This is your first offence?”
“No, sir!––but the first time I’ve been caught.”
“Now, Jim,––that’ll do!” reprimanded the magistrate, 252 forgetting his courtly dignity for the moment and breaking into a grin; for Jim and he were cronies of long standing.
“I deeply regret that I cannot give you the benefit of the First Offender’s Act. These boyish pranks of yours must be put down. You will be breaking windows and riding your horse on the sidewalk next if we allow you to go on in this way, unpunished. You are a big lad now and it is high time you were beginning to take life seriously.”
Hannington nodded his head approvingly, and clasped his hands over his stomach.
“In pronouncing sentence, I hope you will take this lesson to heart and that this will be your last appearance before this or any other Court of Justice.
“I fine you fifty dollars and costs, and command that you wash and scrub Percival DeRue Hannington’s mare, between the hours of two and four p.m. in front of the Court House, every day, until the animal is restored to its natural colour.”
A wild laugh and a great shuffling of feet greeted the sentence.
DeRue Hannington sprang up indignantly, his face bursting red with anger.