Southern literary gazette. (Charleston, S.C.) 1850-1852, December 18, 1852, Page 280, Image 6

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280 called at the house, who, on taking off his hat, disclosed a very bald head. The magpie, who happened to be in the room, appeared evidently struck by the circum stance ; his reminiscences were power fully excited by the naked appearance of the gentleman’s skull. Hopping upon the back of his chair, and looking him hastily over, he exclaimed in the ear of his astounded visitor:—“Oh, d—e, you've been at the pickled cockles, have you?” [lngoldsby Legends. A TRIAL AT THE SESSIONS HOUSE OLD BAILEY. A pickpocket has just been acquitted. “That’s a regular rascal,” said the sheriff to me in a whisper ; “never was such a case heard of, to be sure —seven- teen watches, thirty-two pocket handker chiefs, four pair of spectacles, and five snuffboxes, all found upon his person !” “Yet,” said I, “the evidence could not have been very strong against h : m—the jury acquitted him after a minute’s con sultation.” “Evidence, Mr. Gurney!” said the sher'ff, “how little do you know of the Old Bailey ! —why, if these London ju ries were to wait to consider evidence, we never should get through the busi ness—the way we do here is to make a zig z ig of it.” I did not exactly comprehend the term as it was now applied, although Daly I had often used it in my society with re ference to a pin and a card universally employed at the interesting game of rouge ct noir ; and I therefore made no scruple of expressing my ignorance. “Don’t you understand, sir?” said the i sheriff—“why the next prisoner will be | found guilty —the last was acqui tted— the one after the next will be acquitted I too —it comes alternate like —save half, ; convict half—that’s what we call a zig zag ; and taking the aggregate, it comes to the same point, and 1 think justice is done as fair here as in any court in Chris tendom.” This explanation rendered the next prisoner who made his appearance, an object of considerable interest to me. He was a little dirty boy, who stood charged with having stole a pound of ba con and a peg-top from a boy somewhat his junior. The young prosecutor pro duced a witness, who, as far as appear ance went, might, without any great in justice, have taken the place of the pri soner, and who gave his evidence with considerable fluency and flippancy. His manner attracted the notice of one of the leading barristers of the court, Mr. Flap pertrap, who, in cross-examining him in quired whether he knew the nature of an oath. “Yes I does,” said the boy. “Explain it,” said Flappertrap. SOUTHERN LITERARY GAZETTE. “You may bed a,” replied the lad, “that’s a hoath, arn’t it?” “What does he say ?” said the judge— who, as I about this period discovered, was as deaf as a post. “He says, ‘you may bed d,’ my lord, ’ said Flappertrap, who appeared particularly glad of an opportunity to bor row a phrase, which he might use for the occasion. “What does he mean by that,” said the judge. “That is the way, my lord, he ex hibits his knowledge of the nature of an oath. “Pah! pah!” said the judge—“ Boy, d’ye hear me ?” “Yes,'” said the boy, “I hears.” “Have you ever been to school ?” “Yes,” said the boy, “in St. Giles’s parish for three years.” “Do you know your catechism ?” The boy muttered something which w T as not audible to the court generally, and was utterly lost upon the judge personally. “VY hat does he say ?” said his lord ship. “Speak up, sir, said Mr. Flappertrap. The boy muttered again, looking down and seeming embarrassed. “Speak louder, sir,” said another bar rister, whose name 1 did not know, but who was remarkable for a most une quivocal obliquity of vision—“speak to his lordship —look at him—look as / do, sir.” “I can’t,” spdd the boy, “you squints !” A laugh followed this bit of naivete, which greatly abashed the counsellor, and somewhat puzzled the judge. “What does he say?” said his lord ship. “He says he knows his catechism, my lord.” “Oh—does not know his catechism— why then what ” “ Does know, my lord,” whispered the lord mayor, who was in the chair. “Oh—ah — does know—l know—here boy,” said his lordship, “you kuow your catechism, do you ?” “Yes,” replied he sullenly. “ W e’ll see, then—what is your name ?” said his lordship. “My name,” said the intelligent lad— “what, in the catechism ?” “Yes, what is your name?” “M. or N. as the case may be,” said the boy. “Go down, go down,” said the judge, angrily, and down he went. “Gentlemen of the jury,” said his lord ship, “this case will require very little of your attention—the only evidence against the prisoner at the bar which goes to fas ten the crime upon him, is that which has been offered by the last witness, who evidently* is ignorant of the nature and obligation of an oath. With respect to the pig s toes which the prisoner stands charged with stealing ” “A peg-top,” my lord ?” said Flapper trap, standing up, turning round, and speaking over the bench into the judge’s ears. •‘Peg top,’ said his lordship—-“oh—ah I see—very bad pen—it looks in my notes like pig’s toes. Well—peg-top ol* the peg-top which it is alleged he took from the prosecutor, there has not been one syllable mentioned by the prosecu tor himself; nor do I see that the charge of taking the bacon is by any means proved. There is no point for me to di rect your attention to, and you will sa> whether the prisoner at the bar is guilty or not; and a very trumpery case, it is altogether, thac 1 must admit.” His lordship ceased, and the jury again laid their heads together; again the foreman gave a little “hem'’ of con scious readiness for decision ; again did the clerk of the arraigns ask the impor tant question, “How say ye, gentlemen, is the prisoner at the bar guiity or not guilty V “Guilty,” said the foreman to the clerk of the arraigns ; and “I told you so,” said the sheriff to me. | Theodore Hook. WEBSTER AND TtlE HIGH WAYMAN. A Correspondent of the Detroit Free Press gives the following correction of an anecdote about Mr. \\ ebster when riding at night between Washington and Bal timore : he anecdote is entirely incorrect, and as it appears to reflect on the cour age of Mr. Webster, it is but fair that his memory should have the benefit of the true facts. The following you may de pend on as the true version. 1 ha\e heard it more than once from an intimate friend of Mr. Webster, and was in Con gress with him. “Mr. Webster was one of the passen gers in a stage coach, which broke down between Baltimore and Washington. The passengers went to the nearest tav era and there found that there was no other vehicle to be procured for some hours. This was at night, and Mr. Web ster being very anxious to proceed on his journey, applied to the landlord for some conveyance; his answer was that he had none, but that a person was about to proceed toward Washington in < a gig, and might be induced to give him i a seat; ‘but said the landlord, drawing Mr. I Webster aside,‘you may not like your companion ; he is the notorious M , the murderer! ‘Never mind,’ said Mr. Webster, ‘he will not hurt me ; a % sk him if he will take me. M was a man who had been tried for a most atrocious and savage murder, and who, although he had been acquitted, was believed by 1 [Decembe r, 18,