MRS. BROWN AT THE OLD BAILEY.

Ir give me that turn when that young man come in and says, "Is your name MARTHA BROWN?" and hands me the strip of paper that I downright staggered, and if MRS. CHALLIN hadn't give me a chair I should have fell backwards, as the sayin' is. The young fellow he says, "It's no hangin' matter, but mind you attends to it ;" and as soon as ever he were gone I says, "MRS. CHALLIN, if I don't take a-somethin' I shall be took bad, for I feels them shivers a-comin' up my back, as is often warnings of illness." So she did step out for half-a-quartern, as is a thing I will never keep in the house, for it's gone like magic, tho' necessary when parties is liable to be took sudden. Well, as far as I could make it out, it was a paper from the QUEEN, as I says, "However can she know anything about me," I says, as never troubles my head with nothing of the sort." So I asks young EDMUNDS, as brought in the water-rate, whatever it meant. "Oh,' says he, "your subpoena'd." "What for?" says I. Says he, "All along of MRS. BRITTLES'S back washus winder bein' broke into that Sunday evenin'" with me a-settin' in the arbour a-readin', as commands a full view of her premises, and see the parties as they was a-levantin' as the sayin' is. "Wherever is it to ?" says I. "The Old Bailey," says he. " Well, then, I'm sure as BROWN won't never let me go for to stand like a criminal in the docks." He says, "You're only a witness." says, "That comes of my talkin' to that 'ere policeman as come here a-pumpin' and a-spyin', and askin' that civil for to see our backgarden, and talkin' that agreeable, me little a-thinkin' as he was a reg'lar Jesuit, as I'm told there is in every family, with a book wrote all about it.' So when BROWN come in he says, "That comes of your lettin' that red rag o' yourn run so free." "But," I says, 'BROWN, you won't never suffer it." "Suffer what?" says he. "Why, your lawful wife to be took up like that to the Old Bailey, as I never should hold my head up again thro' shame?" "Well," says he, "there ain't nothin' to be ashamed on. You must go, or they'll put you in prison and make you pay a hundred pounds.'

I

I says, "Then they're tyrants, that's what I calls em; "but he only says, "Rubbish! Mind you're there by ten o'clock punctual." So on the next Monday fortnight as ever were I had to go, and got MRS. CHALLIN to mind the house, and MRS. EYLES she went with me, and of all the drizzly, dirty mornings as ever I was out in, it was the worst. I says, "Let's be there in good time, and then p'raps they'll let us go all the sooner." So we got there as the clock was on the stroke of nine, and there was such a frightful crowd, and we wasn't able to get near the place in the 'bus. I says to the conductor, "Is this the nearest as you can put us down?" He says, "We ain't allowed to go no nearer; but," he says, "if you walks very quick you may be just in time." I says, "Whatever do you mean?" and if they hadn't been and hung a man, as is a thing as I wouldn't see, not for all the world." I says, "I'd rather go to prison or pay the hundred pounds, so back I'll go." Mrs. EYLES says, "Bless you, it's all over, and we'll take it gently. There goes nine."

Of all the crowds I ever see it was the wust, and I'm sure to look at 'em you'd say as hangin' was too good for 'em, and they came a-rushin' and a-hootin' that violent as me and MRS. EYLES had to stand in a doorway ever so long for to let 'em pass. I says, "MRS. EYLES, in my opinion them hangin's did ought to be done private, as might be made more agreeable to all parties, and not for to collect such ragamuffins together, as is a reg'lar pest to theirselves and others." It was just ten when we was got to the Old Bailey, as was crowded up by the most wretchedest parties, and it made my heart feel for some of them poor creeturs as was a-sheddin' tears talking to policemen, and seemed a-beggin' hard for to be let in, as is a place as I'd rather be kept out on. We waited and waited in them damp, dirty passages till I was quite chilled, when a door opens sudden, and out comes a woman a-screamin' like wild, and her friends a-tryin' to hold her, but, law bless you, she fought like wild, and seemed ready for to tear 'em in bits, till at last she fell down in a fit. It gave me that awful turn as I says, "MRS. EYLES, mum, I must take somethin'," and the policeman as was friendly to us he took us over to get some refreshments. So I asks him, "Whatever made her take on like that " "Oh!" he says, "her Joe's got a lifer. I know'd he would." "Whatever for?" "Oh!" he says, "a heavy burglary." Well, just then in came a lot of parties as was that cheerful, and a-talkin', sayin' they was that glad as she'd got off. Says the policeman, "I told you she would; I never see a young gal do it better." I asks, "What?" "Oh!" says he, "she was up for the murder of her infant, as was six months old, only she come the gammon that strong, a-faintin' away every moment, and bein' good looking, the jury let her off."

"a

"Then more shame for 'em," says I. "Is that justice," I says, brazen-faced hussy as one might forgive a misfortune to, but for to go and imbrood her hands in hinnocent blood of her own child, she's wuss than a beast of prey. If I'd my way I'd burn her, a wretch."

"You would, would you, old corpilence? It's well as there ain't a law for burnin' you, or all the fat 'd be in the fire;" and if them wulgar, low-lived wretches didn't roar with their laughter. I says, "You're a reg'lar slaughter-house lot, as a little hangin' wouldn't do no harm to."

Just as I was a-speakin' there was a old woman decided in liquor as up and shied a pint pot at me, as would have done for me if it hadn't missed and hit a party atween the blade-bones, as returned the compliment by hitting out all round. So the police had to interfere, and glad I was to get out of the place, and MRS. EYLES and the policeman led me into the courtyard, and there was a man shoutin' "MARTHA BROWN" like mad.

I says, "Here I am." "Look slippy," says the policeman, and they hurries me along and shoves me thro' a door, and there I was reg'lar flurried and out of breath, afore the judge and all. Of all the smelly, stiflin' places ever I was in it was that court. However them judges can bear them head-dresses and furs puzzles me, not as I'd time for to think of much thro' a party shovin' a book in my hand and a-makin' me kiss it and swear to speak the truth, "as,” I says, "is my habits, young man.' Well, a very nice party asked me very polite all about it. So I says, "My lord," I says, "I'll tell you how it cum about." "Answer my questions," says the party.

"So I will," I says, "my lord; but," I says, "how ever are you to know if I don't tell you, not as I bears any malice nor hatred in my heart; but," I says, "for to rob a lone womanThe other judge, him as was a-settin' up above, says, "My good woman," a expression as didn't sound well in his mouth, "confine yourself to answerin' when you're spoke to."

I says, "Yes, my lord," I says, "as it is my habits, for I ain't one to trouble myself with nobody's business, for I'm sure any one as knows me can bear testaments." "Answer the counsel directly," says another old judge, as had a pimply nose and spoke irritable, as I should say had been a-takin' somethin' in his tea, as he must require, a-settin' stiflin' and a-stewin' in that place all day.

I says, "By all means; I'm sure I don't want to speak." No more I didn't, for with all his rigmarole questions he didn't get at the truth, for he kep' a-stoppin' me, and when I thought as he was done, and was a-turnin' to go, up got a young chap with a snappy sort of manner, and says, "Pray, MRS. BROWN, how old are you?"

I says, "I ain't ashamed to tell my age, as was born in the year of the allied sufferings comin' over, as I've often heard my dear mother say, as she stood on Westminster Bridge for to see 'em pass by, and it's a-mercy as she got a hackney coach." So says the young chap, "Ah! I dare say; but we don't want to hear about that, but all we want to know is about your eyesight, is it as good as it used to be ?" "Well," I says, "for that matter I can see as far as my neighbours, and that Sunday afternoon-" he says, "What Sunday afternoon?" I says, "As you're a-speakin' on." He says, "I never mentioned the words."

"Then," I says, "you did ought to, for it was a Sunday as I was a-settin' a-readin', leastways a-dozin', when I heard a crack like glass a-givin' way. So I gets on the seat, and looks over the wall jest in time to see a man a-gettin' in at MRS. BRITTLES' back-kitchen window, as I know'd was gone to a place of worship." "Well," says the young chap, "you must have a very long sight if you can see a man's face gettin' in at a window when a long way behind him."

I says, "It is not a long way; for," I says, "it is only the length of MRS. BRITTLES'S garden." "What length is that?" says he. "Why," says I, "the length of a garden." "Well," he says, "look at the prisoner at the bar, is he the individual that you saw a-gettin' into the window?"

"Well," I says, "let him turn round and make believe to be a-gettin' in at a window, and see if I don't swear to him?" "Can you or can you not say whether he is the man?" asks the judge. "Well," I says, 'my lord, leastways I think-" "Don't think. Will you swear?" says the young chap. "You're quite enough to make any one, not as anything would make me give in to such a low habit." "You won't swear then?" says he. "Certainly not." "Stand down," says a policeman.

I did stand down, and was glad to get out of the place, but was that trembly as I sunk down on a bench, and if they hadn't got me some refreshments I don't think as I ever could have left that place.

Well, it wasn't very long afore they come out, and I hears a young chap say, "It's all right, he's got him off. Wasn't the old gal a trump." Jest then up comes MRS. BRITTLES in a towering passion, as says to me, "You're a base ooman a-perjurin' yourself like that just to spite me, as have told me yourself as you could swear to that man anywheres, and then to eat your own words, as in my opinion you've been bought off, as I'll see if law can't lay hold on you."

Well, I was that took a-back as I nearly dropped, and how I got home I don't know with a splittin' head and BROWN that cold blooded, a-sayin', that it was all my own fault, and if I'd held my tongue I might have kept out of it, as was only my wantin' for to seem to know everythin'."

SOCIAL GLASSES AND SOCIAL ASSES.

THAT festive body, the National Temperance League, had an outing at the Crystal Palace, on the 29th August, under the presidency of MR. GEORGE CRUIKSHANK. They are light-hearted, carolling young fellows the teetotallers, always in high spirits, and so different in that respect from us melancholy, beer-sodden, wife-stamping hounds, who take a pint of beer every day of our lives. There is always something so natural, so un-forced in their jollity; there is something so enviable in their pleasant complacency as they sit over their tea, trilling out little social hallelujahs to each other; they are all so clean, so curly, and so chubby (if we may believe MR. TWEEDIE'S prints), that the only wonder is that society at large don't enlist under their banners, and drive all licensed victuallers into penal servitude for life. Of course when this blithe body met at the Crystal Palace, they sang a good deal. In point of fact, no less than fifteen songs were down on their programme, but as, by some mistake, we were not present at the gathering, we cannot say that the programme was conscientiously carried out. Most of the songs had one moral, which was that there was nothing so exhilarating as water, and nothing so depressing as beer. It might, at first sight, appear that as this was a meeting of ladies and gentlemen, who were supposed to have settled these facts in their own minds long before they arrived at the Crystal Palace, their perpetual repetition was, to say the least of it, rather unnecessary. You don't find that a body of surgeons takes the trouble to assert in song, at every possible opportunity, that vaccination is effective against small-pox, because it is an ascertained fact which no reasonable man ventures to question. Perhaps, however, if they have their doubts on the point, they may find it answer their own ends to reiterate it in song.

On the 29th August, at the Crystal Palace, you were to Give me a Draught from the Crystal Spring, under all circumstances of season. You were, moreover, to Learn to say No wherever you Go, no matter what you were asked to do-an arrangement which, from our bigoted point of view, seems likely to be pregnant with inconvenience. You were asked if you would like to Fill a Drunkard's Grave, And bear his infamy; and you were, moreover, to Touch not, Taste not (it didn't say what), Till you Die! But the crowning triumph of the afternoon was a three-part song called "The Social Glass," written by a MR. P. W. P. G. Srowe, who appears to have compensated for his abstinence in other respects by going-in recklessly for initials. The "1st Voice" (who is a profligate), in evident ignorance of his companion's simple tastes, opens the subject as follows:

"I'm very fond of a social glass!"

His friends, however, have their feelings under control, and (sly dogs) winking at each other reply, traitorously,

2nd Voice.-

3rd Voice.

"So am I."

"So am I."

The unsuspecting "1st Voice" falls into the trap, and, under the impression that he is addressing men of kindred tastes, adds,

66

"It makes the time so pleasantly pass,

And fills the heart with pleasure."

Hereupon the 2nd Voice" is shocked, and throwing off the cloak of harmless dissimulation, sighs out the following couplet-

"Ah, water pure doth brighter shine, Than brandy, rum, or sparkling wine." The "3rd Voice," however, wishing to keep up the joke a little longer, chimes in with a bit of his old experience:

3rd Voice. "But sad is the fix if the liquors you mix."

But the "1st Voice" is evidently an old hand, and immediately adds, "Oh, never do that."

And the other two voices, with sly meaning,

2nd Voice.3rd Voice.

"Nor I." "Nor I."

But "1st Voice" begins to suspect something, and basely endeavours to retrieve his position in the eyes of his friends by joining in a tee

total

2nd Voice (throwing off all disguise).-"I certainly do." 3rd Voice (ditto).—“ And I.”

Then "chorus" as before.

1st Voice (contemptibly).—" Not I."

"3rd Voice" then reopens the conversation:
3rd Voice. "I love to sing a temperance glee."
1st Voice (in base acquiescence).-" So do I."
2nd Voice.-"So do I."

3rd Voice. "I long to see the inebriate free, And every moderate drinker." This is rather cloudy, but perhaps "3rd Voice" has had too much water. 1st Voice (the humbug !).—

"I'm glad to meet with friends so true,

For I have long been temperate too!" Hereupon "2nd Voice" begins to suspect that they've been wasting their conversion talk on a believer, and disconcerted thereat whispers to" 3rd Voice," "Then I understand he's a temperate man !'

3rd Voice (very small voice this time).-"I reckon he is." 1st Voice (who has overheard this) triumphantly." You're right!" All (this sounds tipsy but it isn't).-" All right." And the three friends join in the ecstatic chorus,

"Oh, yes, we love the temperate glass,
But it must be filled with water;
Wisdom says 'be temperate' now,
To every son and daughter."

There! We defy the caricaturists of the Teetotal movement to do its cause more harm than the contemptible drivel we have quoted.

ECONOMICS.

APROPOS OF A RECENT DISCUSSION.

MR. JOHN RUSKIN,
Assuming the buskin,

Rushed on to the stage, willy nilly,
And told the D. T.,
Less welcome than free,

That its leader on servants was silly.

Said the D. T., "Your letter,
Dear sir, 's not much better,"

Conducting the contest with bonhommie,

For J. R., the art-critical,
Knows of Political

More than Domestic Economy,

Yet of that knows so little

That FUN just a bit 'll

Give him of his mind on this caper

"It had been economical,

Graduate comical,

Had you saved trouble, time, ink, and paper!"

Inswers to Correspondents.

AN ANXIOUS INQUIRER, COVENT GARDEN.-We are not in the secret of the Repository, or the repository of the secret. If you want to know more of the mysterious mansion you had better ring the bell, and then run away, and see if anything follows.

A REJECTED ONE asks how we can have the heart to decline his contributions. Since he is so anatomically particular, we beg to inform him that, besides the heart, we have the waist-paper basket.

A. WARD.-You had better apply to our advertising agent. We don't supply pufis, so you must go to our Baker.

Of course he can, and a preface and index too, and all for the small A WOULD-BE PEER wishes to know whether he can purchase a title. charge of one penny. Apply at 80, Fleet-street.

JULIA is anxious to learn where she can meet with a good looking glass. She had better consult her own mirror, which will no doubt help her to a good looking (g)lass. HISTRIONICUS.-The line

"The man who lifts his hand to a woman, etc."

is from SHAKESPEARE. See the tragedy of "R. Romer and Juliet. CA. SA. You may take a pill without a writ of habeas corpus, A YOUNG MAN OF FAMILY.-If they only give you a two-pronged steel fork at the eating-house you frequent, you may eat your peas with a knife as a peas-aller as the French say, but not otherwise.