Louisiana jurisprudence, and at the same time chivalric sentiment of the Recorder, seemed to meet a response in the breast of every one in the court, not even excepting the amorous Barney Doud.

"O, your honour mistakes me altogither intirely. I defy him, or any body else, to molest my kracter in the layst. Thanks be to the Lord, I'm as ould as I am; and there's no one, up to this blissid day, can say black is the white of your nail, Bridget Boylan."

"Well, then," said the Recorder, "how am I to understand you. You say he did take your character, and then again you say he did not?""

"Well, of course, I didn't lave it in his power to say any thing that was bad of me," said Bridget, in a spirit of conscious rectitude," but didn't he snap me trash bag that had in it the kracter I got from Father Madden, the priest in Ireland, and I nivir saw a blissid sight of it since."

"O, then it was of a written document he deprived you," said the Recorder.

"Af course it was," said Bridget.

"Oh, that entirely alters the case," said the Recorder, "however, you can sue him in one of the civil courts, laying the damages at whatever value you place on the written character given you by Father Madden. But, Barney," said he to the gay Hibernian Lothario, "Barney, Bridget's certificate can be of no use to you-why do you not return it to her?"

66 Ah, sure your honour," said Barney, "it all grew out of a bit of fun, and I had no more harm in takin it than I would in sayin me prayers; troth Bridget needn't make such a hubbub about nothin, for there's nothin ill sed that's not ill taken, and there's nothin ill taken that's not ill intinded. I was only keepin the lines till Briget forgot all about Sally Farrell and the binch in Lafayette Square (And here Barney gave an arch smile,)-She's the best natured eraythur in the world, only when she takes the sulks now and agin."

"Do you promise to return her character?" asked the Recorder.

"Be all manner o' manes," answered Barney, "she must have it afore I take bit, bite or sup."

This seemed to satisfy all parties, though it was evident, from Bridget's manner, that she did not forget Sally Farrell and the bench of Lafayette Square.

A BRANDY AND PEPPERMINT PARTY BRoken up.

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A BRANDY AND PEPPERMINT PARTY BROKEN UP.

"MICK MALLEN," said the Recorder.

"Yis, sir," said a man in the box, with a sunburnt face, no coat, and seedy trousers.

"You are charged, Mr. Mallen," said the Recorder," with beating your wife."

"O faix, yer honour," said Mick, "the batin' was all the other way. Whoever was fightin', I resaved the blows!" "Yis, I'll swear ye sthruck me, ye desavin' thief ye; and I'll swear me life agin Mary Martin, the hussy, too."

This was uttered by a woman with a very red face, and a very sharp nose, and a very "fighting" sort of an eye, who proved to be the spouse of Mr. Mallen.

"O, ye're a darlint," said Mick. "Blur-an'-ages! isn't it a pity I can't get a repale of the union from you!"

"State your complaint, madam," said the Recorder, "and do so in a quiet and collected manner."

"O to be sure I will, yer honour," said Mrs. Mallen, looking shillelaghs at Mick-" to be sure I will. Well, as soon as me lad there come home from work last night, I had his supper, snug and warm, ready for him; and there I sat, jist as if I war his slave, till he tuck it, helpin' him to the tay, a nice bit of a rasher, and every thing on the table. So whin he was done, and 1 claned up the things- Mick,' says 1, Nancy Fenerty,' says I,' says she wants to see me,' says I; 'so I've a mind to put on me cap and shawl,' says I, and go see what she wants-may be she hard from me brother Billy, says I."" "Come to the assault, Mrs. Mallen," said the Recorder. "O thin it's not so asy, yer honour," replied Mrs. Mallen, "for a poor, wake woman like me to come to any thing." "Yis, Biddy," interrupted Mick, "ye war mighty wake intirely whin ye gave me this Donnelly (a thump) undher the eye. Be gor, ye couldn't do it purtier if ye'd studied undher O'Rourke, the boxer!"

66 Silence, sir!" said the Recorder. "Let the woman tell her story I only wish her to be brief about it.”

I

Well, yer honour," said Mrs. Mallen, "as I was sayin', puts on me cap and cloak, and towld me gay, sootherin' Mick there, that I wouldn't be back till nine o'clock. But what 'ud

6

you have of it, alanna-Nancy Fenerty was out whin I got there, and back I comes, and who does I see with me own two eyes, sittin' side-be-side, in me own house, and at me own table, but me bowld Mick there, and that brazen-faced hussy Mary Martin, and they two sittin' as cosy as ye plase, dhrinkin' their brandy and peppermint! Good evenin', Missus Mallen,' says the doxy, as palaverin' as ye plase. Yer sarvint, ginteels,' says meself, quite purlite like. Biddy," says Mick, thinkin' to pass the thing off as asy as if it war the priest of the parish that war in it-Biddy,' says he, 'Mary called for to see ye, and as ye warn't within, I thought I couldn't let her go without axin' her to take a dhrop o' somethin', but she tells me that she's jined the timperance society? Well, yer honour, I couldn't howld meself any longer; so says I, O thin, ye desavin' blackguard ye,' says I, is that the way you sarve me the very moment I turn me back!' and thin, bein' intirely mad with him, I let fly the pitcher at his head, sure enough; and throth, if I had that other sthreel I'd make her bones sore, so I would!"

"Very well," said the Recorder, "I have heard enough from you now. Is the watchman here that arrested this man?" The watchman now came forward. He said he heard a noise; that Mrs. Mallen was crying murdher "" that he went to see what was the matter, when she complained of being beaten by her husband, whom he then arrested.

66

"Well, I now discharge him," said the Recorder. "It is the woman that should have been arrested; and if I hear any more from her, I will bind her to keep the peace."

Mrs. Mallen then left the court, threatening to give Miss Martin "jessy" when she would next meet her.

BOOT BLACKS AND BAD TIMES.

THE case of Johnson vs. Brown created considerable amusement in the Recorder's court yesterday. The plaintiff is no other than the veritable Sam Jonsing, the sable philosopher whose "wise saws and modern instances" we have so often recorded in the Picayune. The defendant is also a 66 gemman ob colour," and boasts of direct descent from Prince Lee-boo.

"Johnson!" said the Recorder.

"I'm dar, massa," said Sam.

"Brown!" said the Recorder.

"Silence!" said the Recorder.

"Did you see the weapon ?" said the Recorder to O'Hara. "Blood-an'-turf! to be sure I saw it," said O'Hara, "glistenin' like a cat's eye, or the scales of a herrin' in the dark! and, be all that's holy! I felt it, too! Why, only for the way I defended meself with me stick, he'd have run it through me body, jist as yer honour 'ud run a pin through a musquito! Jis look at the little sharp nose of him, yer honour! Doesn't he look like a spalpeen that wouldn't meet a man in a dacint stand-up fight, with his fists or a shillelagh; but one that 'ud be afther takin' a dirty advantage of a dacint boy, by committin' suicide on him in the dark?"

During the delivery of this exordium by O'Hara, the little Frenchman agonised as if he had received religion at a camp meeting, or as if his shoulders and muscles were worked by invisible wires, and gave the witness the benefit of a considerable number of sacres, which he delivered in an under tone. "He did not inflict any severe wounds on you-did he ?” said the Recorder.

"Wound me, and I havin' a stick in me hand !" said O'Hara, with surprise. "That's a disgrace that niver occurred to the only son of Mick O'Hara (the Lord be good to him!) yet!Wound me!-oh, bathershin !"

"What have you to say to this charge?" said the Recorder to the bandy-legged Frenchman, who seemed to pant for an opportunity to contradict O'Hara.

"Be gar!" said the Frenchman, shaking his head at the Recorder and his hands at O'Hara, "be gar! it be all one grand lie humbug!-Dere, dere be de only weepon me carry!" pulling out from the breast of his coat a formidable tailor's needle, technically called a button-needle ! "He be one so big coward, he thought it be one large sabre."

Several witnesses corroborated the French tailor's story: he was discharged, and O'Hara was reprimanded for being guilty of such an ocular error as mistaking a tailor's needle for a bowie-knife!