TOLD THE MAGISTRATE.

Hokitika Guardian, 21 July 1928, Page 4

TOLD THE MAGISTRATE.

LONDON, May 12

Struck by lightning during the big thunderstorm on Thursday night, an out o’ work was so angry that, after being treated at St.- Thomas’s Hospital for shock, he returned to the Embankment and struck Peter Rooney, a perfect stranger, in the eye. After drinking .four half-pints with an old Army comrade in a publichouse in Blackfriars road, Joseph Powell sought his bed at a Salvation Army hostel. Crossing Westminster Bridge, he never saw the flash that knocked him out nor heard the peal of thunder that recorded the event.

Two poilcemen took him to the hospital and one of the officers gave him eighteenpenoe to buy a supper. Joseph was not so much hurt as angry, ami when a doctor had patted him on the hack and told him he would soon get over the shock, he returned to the Embankment with a pronounced grievance against things in general. Ho spent 4d at a coffee stall, where he met Peter Rooney, who forcibly declared that there had not been a thunderstorm. “I have been struck by lightning this night,” said Joseph. ‘‘You arc a liar,” said Peter, who was promptly struck by Joseph, and for the next ten minutes two policemen were kept busy disentangling Peter from Joseph. Mr Fiy, the magistrate, at Bow street Police. Court yesterday, fined Peter 10s Gil, and after a. prolonged cross-examination - discharged Joseph, who certainly had spent a busy evening. ~ • * :

What is the dangerous age? Moralists says 18, doctors say 50, blit I maintain that no man really begins to sow his wild oats until lie is 80. Philip Hammond, aged 82, after leading a May Day procession in the Strand, played at being a circus. He arrived in the dock with some difficulty, being encumbered with two placards, a pair of red flags, a cup hitched on to bis hip, and a hag secured to his side. He wore blue jean trousers, it white apron, a closely clipped grey beard, a pink tie, and a ruibber .collar.

Proudly he arranged in the dot : i< one of his placards, which read: ‘fS.O.S. Help please. King George owes me £2,001). The red flag, one penny. Starving under the Union Jack.”

Ho (was charged with obstruction in the Strand, and as the magistrate observed, the old man could not walk anywhere without causing an obstruction. A long time ago, explained the court missionary, the old man bought some shares at 15s which went to 455, and neglecting to sell at the top of the market, ho had lost his money. A very healthy looking old man he was, and he somewhat needlessly remarked that be was not born yesterda. He was discharged and he promise to be a good old boy.

Two months ago Richard Hollis, who has served liis King and country at. Woolwich Arsenal and in prison, had an argument with a. motor omnibus. He was taken to hospital, treated for a bruise on the check and discharged. He then sat down and wrote a letter of protest to the Queen, and receiving a sympathetic reply from her Majesty’s secretary, he sat down oin the .Embankment near Scotland Yard, where lie displayed three exhibits, as they say in the courts. Exhibit A was a bottle containing a. small quantity of medicine;, Exhibit Ii was a bottle of cold tea ; and Exhibit O was a 1 Kittle of beer, which Richard had ilrunk. Having disposed of one of his exhibits, Richard placed his cap on tile pavement, anil awaited results, which came in the form of a constable who removed Richard and his exhibits. ‘‘l have never been in this court before, ’’ declared Richard. “No,” the gaoler agreed; “but you have been at Lambeth., Four convictions for begging, you have. “Twenty-eight days,” ordered Mr

Fry. “How much?” whispered Richard. “A month,” said the gaoler. “Pick up your coat and make room for the next.”

Art opens the London season not only in the Royal Academy but also in the picture gallery of the streets. Sunny, days such as we have enjoyed during the week-end make people linger before picture shops and stop beside the coloured chalk designs of the pavement artist. Colour and melody, the twin sisters of beauty, ontrance us with the call of romance which, although it comes from within, is invoked by sweet sounds and pleasing pictures. In these fragrant mornings and perfumed afternoons of seductive spring the most prosaic of us respond to l an aesthetic thrill, and we take n healthy and youthful pleasure in flowers, in the play of sunshine on old stone, in the pretty frocks of charming girls, in the graceful gliding of a hrage .down the sparkling waters of the riverain the song of birds, and in the shy sweetness of tender leaves.

And Svhnt, say you, has all this to do with the sordid eases of a police court? Very much, indeed,' say T. A police court is just a. page of life, soiled mavhe with repulsive illustrations, hut faithfully it reflects life. *****

So we have the case of John Lurtford, an artist, who, so he says himself, used to paint pictures in the house of his sister before he came down to the “stones,” which means the nnvement.

Six pictures in oils lie displayed, but a passing detective decided that he was appealing not to the artistic appreciation but fo the charitable instincts of a kindly public responding to the charm of gracious spring. So John appeared in, the dock at Marlborough street Police Court on Saturday accused of begging. His pictures were put in ns evidence. “They are very old pictures.” observed the detective looking distastefully at a pastoral scene. , “Old masters?” asked Mr Mead, the magistrate. “No( sir.” replied the detective, who was also a critic, “not masterp i eees—m akesh i f ts. ” “And were the others similar to this?” inquired the magistrate. “Unfortunately, yes,” said the detective.

Mr Mead sent John to have a talk with the police-court missionary, who apparently was expected by wise and kindly counsel to persuade the pavement artist to leave painting alone and to lead an honest life.

Again we had the magic touch of •pririg when Thomas, who wore r scraf coloured like Joseph’s coat, was arrested for exhibiting median iea' (birds that becked at real seed. These artificial birds are among the niosi fascinating of pavement toys, and 1 myself have formed one of a erowc that obstructed the footpath whei Thomas let loose Urs aviary. The lark twittefingdn the blue and the nightingale fluting in the dusl are not so alluring as these birdr made of clockwork and feathers that cost Thomas a os fine. ■ * 1 * '■> * Once more we heard the call of spring when two Mdate, respectable

young wonlen nervously and sorrowfully admitted having stolen a hat and a hat ornament in a West End stores.

After the manner of many women in the spring, they entered the temple of fashion not to make bargains but to “try on” hats. Personally I believe that no woman is responsible for her actions after she lias “tried on” hats for an hour—there is something about feminine hats that clouds taste and conscience.

A woman who knows her own mind on everything in the world that matters never trusts her own or anybody else’s judgment about a new bat. " These two respectable suburban women each paid 30s for choosing the wrong hats. . LONDON, May 21. Policemen in the making are now attending the metropolitan courts in large numbers learning the law and manner of evidence*. Fine young fellows they are, and I am glad to say that tffie new recruits, either from choice or acting under orders, have shorn their flowing locks and abolished the Marcel.wave which were, so* popular among the younger members of the force a couple of years ago.

All the stalwart police recruits I have seen in the courts recently have the army “crop,” ami tlioy look the hotter for it. No policeman can afford to bo picturesque, because the crimnial classes usually have a sense of humour. That is why no candidate for admission to the Metropolitan Force is accepted, unless lie has a helmet, face, the sort of strong, manly face that looks impressive under a jxilice helmet.

Physically and mentally these police recruits promise to advance the splendid tradition of the force. Many arc of good social position and first-class education, and I have heard perfect English, ..both as regards accent and composition, spoken by constables in the witness-box. *** ' * *

I like the true story of the obstrucing costermonger who, being ordered to move on, by one of the new poiicemen, who was educated at Eton, complained to the inspector at the police-station that the constable* was making fun of him. “Talked to me .like a blooming lord, ho did, and everybody laughing at me.” • # • « *

IVp had a smiling morning at Bowstrect on Saturday when for an hour precious sunlight poured through the glass roof.

Iren, the blonde, and Rose, the brunette, giggled as they entered the dock and cheerfully admitted that they had been disorderly in the Strand. I distinctly heard Irene say to Rose, "I’ll dare you to powder your nose.” And if Mr Fry, the magistrate, had not made a swift, decision of a 40s fine, I am convinced that Rose would have responded to the dare. « . •* * * * »

Gripping carefully rolled umbrella in one hand and a howler bat in the other. Percy the plum smiled broadly at the Bench and remarked genially that he had suffered from a had attack of neuralgia, which, acting on the advice of a friend who was a man of the world, he had sought to relieve by successive glasses of Burton beer.

“And do you know’’ lie observed confidentially to the magistrate, “I bad no idea that Burton Inter was so strong.”

“Seven, and six,” saiil Mr Fry. “Really, that is very embarrassing,” replied Percy the plump. “I have only ss. Couldn’t you possibly let me off without insisting on the missing halfcrown ?” And Mr Fry obligingly made it as.

Joseph Fury, looking very mild, said lie was very sorry he had used had language to people coming out of the lloval Opera House,, Covent Garden. Joseph does not like opera, and he was annoyed that anybody should pay real money to hear music- which he asserted noliody could understand. And lie kept- on saying so until a constable stopped him on a crescendo of abuse and led him across the road into Bow street police station. * * * * * » For 18 months Thomas was on the dole, and then liis wife, tiring of seeing him about the house, delivered an ultimatum to the effect that unless lie got work vslio would return to domestic service'. “After she left me,” mused Thomas, “I felt lonely, so I sold flowers in the Strand.” “He was pushing the flowers into wo men'el faces,” said P.C. 417 E.. “and when they refused to lmy lie took lid from his pocket and asked them for 2d to get a bed for the night.” “The officer is a gentleman, and lie treated me ‘ like a gentleman,” conceded Thomas, who was hound over. He left the court with the expressed intention of seeking, first liis wife and then work.