He commenced to tell his simple story, but soon became so convulsed with tears that he could proceed no further.  “I only went to the jail to see Manuel, the steward, and I got lost, and begged the black man to show me the way”—­said he, sobbing.

“Well, I have heard enough,” said the mayor, interrupting him.  “You could not have been at the jail at that time o’ night-impossible.  It was after hours-contrary to rules-and only makes the matter worse for yourself.  You can stand aside, and if the Captain comes before court is through, we will see further; if not, you must be committed as a vagrant.  I’m afraid of you young strollers.”

The officer of the guard, as if the poor boy’s feelings were not already sufficiently harassed, took him by the arm, and pushing him into a corner, said, “There, you young scamp, sit down.  You’ll get your deserts when you get to the jail.”

He sat down, but could not restrain his feelings.  The presence of the Captain was his only hope.  He saw the prisoners arraigned one by one, and join him as they were ordered for committal.  He was handcuffed like the rest, and delivered to the constable.  The reader can imagine the smile of gladness that welcomed the Captain’s timely appearance.  The latter’s exhibition of feeling, and the simple exclamation of the child’s joy, formed a striking picture of that fondness which a loving child manifests when meeting its parents after a long absence.

“Take the irons off that child,” said the colonel to the constable.  “A man like you should not put such symbols of ignominy upon a youth like that.”

“I would do any thing to oblige you, colonel; but I cannot without orders from the mayor,” returned the man, very civilly.

“I’ll see that you do, very quick,” rejoined the colonel, impatiently; and taking the little fellow by the arm in a compassionate manner, led him back into the presence of the mayor, followed by the Captain.

“I want to know what you are committing this lad for,” said the colonel, setting his hat upon the table, while his face flushed with indignation.

“Vagrancy, and caught prowling about the streets with a negro at midnight.  That is the charge, colonel,” replied the mayor, with particular condescension and suavity.

“Was there any proof adduced to substantiate that fact?”

“None but the policeman’s; you know we are bound to take that as prima facie.”

“Then it was entirely ex parte.  But you know the character of these policemen, and the many aggravated circumstances that have arisen from their false testimony.  I wish to cast no disrespect, your honor; but really they will swear to any thing for a fee, while their unscrupulous bribery has become so glaring, that it is a disgrace to our police system.  Have you heard the boy’s story?” said the colonel.

“Well, he began to tell a crooked story, so full of admissions, and then made such a blubbering about it, that I couldn’t make head or tail of it.”