“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.
At the end of the reading, all eyes were directed to the well-dressed and gentlemanly-looking Adolphus. He appeared to excite universal sympathy.
“What have you to say, young man?”
“Why, your worship, the charge is true; but”—
“Oh! never mind your buts. Will you ever appear in the same situation again?”