MY AUNT'S GREAT POLICE CASE. 249 



is understood to deny the charge in an undertone. The 

 Magistrate eyes him suspiciously, and is about to make an 

 observation when my Aunt lugs me into it. 



"Here's my nephew, Sir, a barrister, saw him; he'll tell 

 you, Sir." Whereat I feel that the eyes of Europe (specially, 

 unwashed Europe) are upon me, and become very hot and 

 uncomfortable in consequence. 



"O!" says Mr. Sharply, "there are witnesses. Now, 

 Sir! "to me. 



The Cabman comes out of the box, and I go in. A stout 

 Policeman hands me a Testament, and I take my oath to 

 what I am going to say. 



I notice that, if not badgered, it is surprising how very 

 soon one's nervousness wears off in a witness-box, and what 

 a strong temptation there is to become confidential with the 

 Magistrate, or with anyone who " wishes to ask this witness 

 a question." 



"Now, Sir, tell us what happened." 



I detail the facts of the Cabman's being unable to find 

 the road, and attempt some pathos about my fear for my 

 Aunt's safety. Having finished my facts, and got quite 

 pleasant with Mr. Sharply, I should now like to romance a 

 little, and introduce a joke or two, just by way of lightening 

 the entertainment. I have a sort of latent idea that Mr. 

 Sharply will ask me to step into his private room, or send 

 me, by a pohceman, an invitation to dinner that night. I 

 fancy that with the second bottle of port, or the first cigar, 

 he would say, " And now, old fellow, what was the truth 

 about that Cabman, eh ? I suppose he really was drunk, 



