RECORDER'S COURT. 83 RECORDER'S COURT. TWO OF A TRADE CAN NEVER AGREE. We witnessed a lucid illustration of this argument in the court of Recorder Baldwin yesterday. While standing at the door, on St. Charles street, waiting for the opening of the court, we saw two men in hot haste, making tracks for the police office. Here, thought we, here is not one, but here are two heroes for our next morning's report-for we look out for a "character" with as much anxiety, almost, but not quite, as a merchant looks out for his ships at sea-as a stock jobber looks out for a fall or a rise in the funds-as an old maid looks out for some one to "pop the question," or as a political editor looks out for "glorious victories." In the distance we could not see, "precisely," what they were; though as they approached we felt we could not be mistaken in putting them down for a pair of wood-sawyers. One carried his saw slung on his arm, and the other had his "horse" mounted on his shoulder. At a first glance they looked like wandering minstrels; the saw on No. One seemed "Like his wild harp slung behind him ;" and the "horse" on the shoulder of the other, like a hand organ. So far as the look of the outer-man was concerned, they were as like one another as the Siamese twins, or two plaster of Paris castings of Bonaparte; with this single exception, that the two legs of one of them were not of equal longitudehis life seemed a succession of ups and downs. They unburdened themselves of their "plunder" outside the office door, and boldly made their way up to the bench. "I vants a varrant for this 'ere individual," said he with the short leg and the long one. "Yes, and please your honour," said the other, who stood on equal footing with himself, at least, "Fshall lodge hexaminations agin this 'ere feller." The Recorder actuated by that fair-play-principle which distinguishes him as a magistrate, said he was prepared to hear both sides of the story, and bade the man with the imperfect understanding to proceed. "First," said the Recorder, "what is your name?" "Thomas, sir, Jim Thomas, but folks calls me Hop and Go Constant, by way of a rig-it aint my name though," said the odd legged man. "And yours, sir," said the Recorder, to the other. "George Villiams, sir," said the other; " and I haint got no title 'cause as how it aint democratic." "Let us hear your story first, Thomas," said the Recorder. "Yes, sir," said Hop and Go Constant, "I'll tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth: Vell, your honour sees, I ha' follered this here purfession of wood sawin' for a long time, and I understands the business in all its branches. This here feller is but a new hand, and besides, he haint got no genius. 'Stead of learnin' to set his saw, he has made a dead set at my reg'lar business; he goes round to my customers, your honour, and he circum wents me.' "But has he assaulted you?" said the Recorder. "Yes, sir-r," said Jim Thomas," and he knocked out three of my teeth yesterday." "Why, that is battery," said the Recorder, "according to our statutes; but I can't perceive that your mouth is much disfigured by the blow, nor do I see the vacuum which the three knocked out teeth have left." 66 Why bless your hinnocent heys," said Thomas," it warn't out of my mouth, but out of my saw that he knocked the three teeth, and I have it outside to prove the fact. I thinks myself, the offence is burglary in the second degree." "Silence," said the Recorder, 66 you have gone quite far enough. What have you to say to this, Williams?" he asked of the man whose legs, instead of being like two sides of an irregular triangle, were like two sides of a square. "Vell, I haint nothin' to say but this here," said Williams; "that I rests my defence altogether on constitutional grounds. In the first place, ven I saws vood no man cant interfere vith me, 'cause I'm in the pursuit o' happiness; and, moreover, I thinks free trade and wood-sawyers' rights, is as much a constitutional question as free trade and sailors' rights, about vich folks makes such a muss. Vy, I asks, should there be monopoly in wook-sawin'? Dont competition benefit every business? I'm blow'd if I'll be put down by that 'ere man; that's all about it." "That is enough about it," said the Recorder; " and as for you," he said, addressing the lame man, "because you charge RECORDER'S Court. 85 this man with breaking the teeth of your saw, you come to a lame and impotent conclusion when you think you can sue him for an assault. To maintain such a charge you should prove personal violence. You may both go." They left the office. The man not fully initiated in the mysteries of wood-sawing, seeming to regard the decision of the court as a great triumph. The lame man's short leg seemed shorter and his long leg longer than usual. A SERENADER. CHRISTOPHER CRAMER AND HIS CREMONA. AMONG the cases brought up Saturday before the Recorder, was Christopher Cramer-an old rusty fiddle was under his arm, and a bow, which had lost much of its original tension, was insinuated between its strings. Christopher's dress was superlatively shabby; his jaws were thin and attenuated; his nose was pimply and purple; he was of the lamp-post shape, or rather of no shape at all; and his fingers were as fleshless and long as if they had undergone an anatomical operation. He seemed to be as he was-a specimen of Paginini-ism done up on loafer principles; and his face, which was covered with scratches, looked like a gamut written with red ink. "Christopher Cramer ?" said the Recorder. Christopher, whose spirits seemed sunk too low, was so absorbed in thought that he heeded not the authorative voice of the judicial functionary on the bench, but kept gazing on his fiddle, which was placed on his knees, with all the apparent affection with which a parent looks on an only child fading away from life under the corroding influence of a consumption. "Your case is called on," said a policeman, stirring up Christopher with his short pole-" your case is called on." "Ah, I've lost my case," said Cramer, "and I thought as much of it as I do of my fiddle itself-my name was on it, C. C., done in brass nails." "You were found disturbing the peace last night," said the Recorder. "There is a discord between the charge and the fact, may it please the court," said Cramer; "of nothing was I guilty but "Peace and gentle visitation." H "Why, your honour," said a watchman, "he says as how I cracked his fiddle; but blow me if I don't think its his own head that's cracked-you should ha' seen the shines he cut up in Burgundy street last night. He called it a sur-in-aid; but folks didn't like such aid thereabouts-I know they didn't 'cause they all calls on me, and tells me to take him to the vatchhouse; von young 'oman puts her head out of a two story vinder, and she hollers to me-Vatchman! you take that 'ere feller to the vatchhouse; he comes here a cutting up these here didos every night-he's a wagrant, and we don't know nothin' about him.'" Recorder." What brought you, sir, to disturb a peaceable neighbour at that time of night? I am told by the watchman it was one o'clock." Christopher.-[Waving his right arm like a stump orator speaking of the constitution]"Because I have sworn it; and 'Not for all the sun sees, or The close earth wombs, or the profound seas hide To her, my fair beloved!' Watchman." That's the vay he's alvays a goin' on. You ought to've heard him a singin' 'Vake, lady, vake!' last night, and play it on the fiddle at the same time! Vy, he's death on catgut, and a reg'lar vind instrument! His notes is higher than any of the solwent banks!-he's a perfect roarer !" Recorder." You will have to find bail to keep the peace, unless you promise to give up your serenading." Christopher.- "To do so would jar with the vow I have taken and create a discord in the sounds of my soul's feelings; besides 'I am advised to give her music o' mornings: They say it will penetrate.'"' "Take him off," said the Recorder, "until he finds the necessary bail." In a moment a policeman grasped Christopher by the arm, and Christopher grasped his fiddle by the neck, displaying thereby a wonderful instance of fiddle-ity! "LAY ON, MICK DUFF!" 87 8 "LAY ON, MICK DUFF!" "MICHAEL DUFF and Tom Crowley were yesterday brought before the Recorder, for practically illustrating their bellicose propensities on the Levee, contrary to the statute in that case made and provided, and the peace and dignity of the state. Tom Tanner, a witness who was present, put the court in possession of the terms and conditions of the fight. The weapons were fists; they stood at striking distance, and as much nearer as they could clutch one another. The battle was to be fought on the knock-down and drag-out principle, agreeably to the " sports of the ring," as laid down in the Kentucky code. "Who was the aggressor?" said the Recorder to the witness, Tanner. "Why, Crowley was, of coorse," said Tanner: "he challenged Mick, and wouldn't give him pace nor aze till he fought him." "Well, and what did you say?" inquired the Recorder. "Did you endeavour to make peace ?" “I did no such thing, yer anour,” said Tanner," for I seed Tom was itchin' for a batin', and I was detarmined to let him have it; so, as soon as iver I seed Mick square at him, I said, as our counthryman Moore, the beautiful dramatic poet of nature, ilegantly expresses it : 'Whoo! lay on Mick Duff! Pitch into Crowley till he cries enough!' And so he did, yer anour-as beautiful as if he tuck lessons from O'Rourke or deaf Burke himself!" They were all fined for disturbing the peace, and discharged. DOMESTIC DIFFCULTIES. OR, THE ONE WOMAN POWER. "WHAT, here again this morning, Jemmy?" said the Recorder yesterday, to a withered looking little specimen of mortality who stood before him, and with whom official intimacy |