MY AUNT'S GREAT POLICE CASE. 237 



" I mean," I explain, " that she is here wrongfully accused." 

 Upon this she winks slowly at me first, and then nudges my 

 Aunt to enjoy the joke. This freemasonry being finished, 

 she assumes an air of great caution, and whispers to us to 

 take care, as Old Purkiss is looking, adding, " I 'ate that 

 Purkiss." 



We ascertain that Purkiss, the object of her detestation, is 

 one of the respectable-looking elderly gentlemen at the table. 

 " He's often been against me, he has," she continues, always 

 in a whisper, and avoiding the eye of old Purkiss, who is, it 

 seems, on this memorable occasion also, engaged by the 

 opposite side. 



An hour passes in this lively manner. I think we all take 

 to watching Old Purkiss ; if we flag at all in this interesting 

 occupation, the Rum Lady nudges me, and nodding towards 

 him, whispers, "That Purkiss !" fiercely. "Well," says my 

 Aunt, who is beginning to feel faint, " I'd sooner have paid 

 the man twice over than have gone through this." The clock 

 strikes two ; there is a slight stir among the Solicitors and 

 their papers. The Policeman folds up his newspaper, and 

 evidently means business. Two other Policemen come in, 

 the Clerk sits upright in his chair and poises a pen. In 

 another second there is a bang and a slam, the screen 

 shakes, and a little gentleman bounds from behind it (quite 

 in keeping with my first idea of an entertainment), and 

 brings himself up with a Jerk behind the desk-table^ on which 

 he places both hands. 



The Reporter informs us, in an undertone, that this is Mr. 

 Sharply, the Magistrate. 



