The Sun.
London, England, 1836-08-18 00:00:00

HATTON-GARDEN.

A TAKE-IN.—On Tuesday a well-looking woman, of re-
spectable appearance, entered this office, accompanied by
her mother, to apply for a warrant against a middle-aged
man, of dandified appearance, who forced his way into
Court, and also claimed the protection of Mr. Conant, who
presided in the absence of Mr. Rogers.
The young woman stated that her father was a respect-
able bricklayer, residing in the neighbourhood of Penton-
ville, and he brought her up to the dress-making business.
A few months ago she accidentally met with the man who
followed her into Court, who paid his addresses to her,
and swore that " he loved her better than woman was ever
loved," and used every artifice to convince her of the sin-
cerity of his views, and she was at length induced to intro-
duce him to her parents, who sanctioned his visits and ad-
dresses, under the impression that he was a respectable
character. He was in the habit of driving about the town
in a gig, taking her to Vauxhall-gardens, theatres, con-
certs, balls and assemblies, exhibiting rings on his fingers'
a watch-guard, and frequently displaying his quizzing-glass'
with all the air of a man of consequence, and she was so
much imposed upon by his " show of dignity," that she ac-
tually thought she was to become the wife of a man of
property. But before the honey moon was over, she dis-
covered that she had become the bride of a man who had
not the means of supporting himself, but wished to exist on
the profits of her industry, and she become so indignant
that she determined on leaving him, and returning to her
parental roof. Ever since she had quitted him, he was in
the habit of annoying her and her family.
Mr. CONANT said it was a very hard case, but he could
not interfere. He would advise an amicable arrangement.
Applicant (energetically)—No, never ; I have been taken
in, and I never can live with him. lam an excellent dress-
maker, and can get my own living. I would rather die in a
ditch.

Husband (crying)-0 don't say so, my dear ; I love you,
I would die for you ; all I want is for you to live with me.
—(Laughter.)
Mr. CONANT—Pray what are you ? Husband—l am
a tailor, your Worship.
Wife—Then you are no man : but you are not a tailor.
—(Laughter.)
Husband—The fact is, it is all through her mother, who
wishes to send her out, and live upon her degradation.
The mother indignantly repelled this accusation, and
said that her father had some property and houses to leave
her, and her husband was aiming at the possession of them,
but he should neither have them nor her daughter.

Husband (still crying)—She has employed a young man
whom she likes better to give me a thrashing, and I want
a warrant.—(Laughter.)
Wife—You know that that gold pin in your breast be-
longs to me.

Husband—No, my love, you know I paid a shilling to
get it mended.—(lncreased laughter.)
Mr. CONANT asked what sort of articles were pledged ?
Wife—Shirts, handkerchiefs, and patchwork, &c.—
__ .

(Laughter.) He cut about in such a flashy way that
thought he was a gentleman.

Mr. CONANT would not grant a warrant, and they left
the office, the husband sobbing, and begging of her to re-
turn with him, but she rejected him with contempt, vowing
never to live with him again.
Yesterday morning the husband again came to the office
and applied for a warrant against a man for having assaulted
him. He stated that he was returning borne on Tuesday
evening when he was beset by seven or eight persons, when
one of them named Atchford " pitched into him," and
gave him a thrashifig.
Mr. ROGERS granted the warrant, and the applicant,
when about to be sworn, was nearly five minutes pulling off
a tight kid glove in the most apish manner.