“Bunkem!  Where’s Bunkem?”

“I am here!” said Mr. Adolphus Casay; “here to”—­

“Step inside, Bunkem,” shouted a sturdy auxiliary; and with considerable manual exertion and remarkable agility, he gave the unfortunate Adolphus a peculiar twist that at once deposited him behind the bar and before the bench.

“I beg to state,” commenced the agitated and innocent Adolphus.

“Silence, prisoner!” roared the crier.

“Will you allow me to say,”—­again commenced Adolphus—­

“Hold your tongue!” vociferated P74.

“I must and will be heard.”

“Young man,” said the magistrate, laying down the paper, “you are doing yourself no good; be quiet.  Clerk, read the charge.”

After some piano mumbling, the words “drunk—­abusive—­disorderly—­incapable—­taking care of self—­stretcher—­station-house—­bail,” were shouted out in the most fortissimo manner.

At the end of the reading, all eyes were directed to the well-dressed and gentlemanly-looking Adolphus.  He appeared to excite universal sympathy.

“What have you to say, young man?”

“Why, your worship, the charge is true; but”—­

“Oh! never mind your buts.  Will you ever appear in the same situation again?”

“Upon my soul I won’t; but”—­

“There, then, that will do; I like your sincerity, but don’t swear.  Pay one shilling, and you are discharged.”

“Will your worship allow me”—­

“I have no time, sir.  Next case.”

“But I must explain.”

“Next case.  Hold your jaw!—­this way!”—­and the same individual who had jerked Mr. Adolphus Casay into the dock, rejerked him into the middle of the court.  The shilling was paid, and, amid the laughter of the idlers at his anti-teetotal habits, he made the best of his way from the scene of his humiliation.  As he rushed round the corner of the street, a peal of laughter struck upon his ears, and there, in full feather, as sober as ever, stood Mr. Brown Bunkem, enjoying the joke beyond all measure.  Indignation took possession of Mr. Adolphus Casay’s bosom; he demanded to know the cause of this strange conduct, stating that his character was for ever compromised.

“Not at all,” coolly rejoined the unmoved Bunkem; “we are all subject to accidents.  You certainly were in a scrape, but I think none the worse of you; and, if it’s any satisfaction, you may say it was me.”

“Say it was you!  Why it was.”

“Capital, upon my life! do you hear him, Smith, how well he takes a cue? but stick to it, old fellow, I don’t think you’ll be believed; but—­say it was me.”

Mr. Brown Bunkem was perfectly right.  Mr. Adolphus Casay was not believed; for some time he told the story as it really was, but to no purpose.  The indefatigable Brown was always appealed to by mutual friends, his answer invariably was—­

“Why, Casay’s a steady fellow, I am not; it might injure him. I defy report; therefore I gave him leave to—­say it was me!”