“Yes, Noah.”
“Was that him you called my adversary?”
“Yes; you were fighting him, so the constable says.”
“Bless y’! Noah is a right-down good fellow, and a chum o’ mine. He’s no adversary.”
“Anyhow, you banged him about, assaulted him, and did him grievous bodily harm.”
“Who--I?”
“Yes, you.”
“Lawk, sir! Noah and I was at school together with Mr. Puddicombe. That was before his little misfortune, sir, when he lost the school because of cock-fighting. Father never approved of his being turned out, nor did I--nor Noah neither. We got on famous wi’[wi’] Puddicombe; didn’t us, Noah?”
“I want to hear nothing about your school reminiscences,” said the magistrate sharply. “Moreover, you will please to confine your observations to the Bench, and not address questions to your fellow under arrest.”
“Thank you, sir. What is that?” This last to the constable. “I beg your pardon, the constable tells me I ought to say ‘your worship,’ and so I does. Noah and I was in the same class; we left the school together, and the very last thing we learned was, ‘Vital spark of heavenly flame’; wasn’t it, Noah?”