“Bunkem! Where’s Bunkem?”
“I am here!” said Mr. Adolphus Casay; “here to”—
“Step inside, Bunkem,” shouted a sturdy auxiliary; and with considerable manual exertion and remarkable agility, he gave the unfortunate Adolphus a peculiar twist that at once deposited him behind the bar and before the bench.
“I beg to state,” commenced the agitated and innocent Adolphus.
“Silence, prisoner!” roared the crier.
“Will you allow me to say,”—again commenced Adolphus—
“Hold your tongue!” vociferated P74.
“I must and will be heard.”
“Young man,” said the magistrate, laying down the paper, “you are doing yourself no good; be quiet. Clerk, read the charge.”
After some piano mumbling, the words “drunk—abusive—disorderly—incapable—taking care of self—stretcher—station-house—bail,” were shouted out in the most fortissimo manner.