The Sun.
London, England, 1834-04-11 00:00:00

WORSHIP-STREET.

An Irishwoman, named Catherine Sullivan, living
in the purlieus of Golden-lane, was yesterday brought
before Messrs. BENETT and GROVE, a county Ma-
gistrate, charged with cutting and wounding one
Catherine Lynch, a woman residing in the same
house.

The prosecutrix, who appeared with her head
dreadfully cut, returned home the evening before
from Barking fair, and, being faint and weary, she
immediately retired to bed, where at six o'clock she
fell fast asleep. In a short time after she was
awoke by the prisoner entering the room ejaculat-
ing, " Kate, my dear, I have sold them all (mean-
ing her husband's furniture) ; so just say what it is
to be—gin or rum ?" Witness told her she wanted
neither, and accused her of selling, amongst her
husband's things, a pair of blankets and sheets,
which she knew were her's, not her husband's."
The prisoner, who had already been drinking, in-
stantly called her a vile name, and, seizing a large
jar, struck her repeatedly several blows on her fore-
head with it while she lay in-bed.
A woman residing in the same room corroborated
the prosecutrix's statement, adding that, on inter-
fering to save the woman's life, the prisoner flew at
her like a tigress, and nearly bit the end of one of
her fingers off. (Witness here exhibited her finger,
which had been dressed by a surgeon.)
Mr. BENETT (to the prisoner)—This is a most
brutal assault. What have you to say for yourself ?
Prisoner (in aloud voice)—Pray, Mrs. Kate Lynch,
did you not throw a basin at my head ? You for-
got to tell his Honour that. Eh !

The prosecutrix denied having thrown anything
at the prisoner.
A witness—l was present all the time, and saw
no basin thrown.

The prisoner, in consequence of being in the last
stage of pregnancy, and having a large family, was
fined only in the sum of 20s. and costs, or one
month's imprisonment.
Prisoner (impudently)—l have not got twenty
farthings.
Mr. BENETT—Then you must go to prison.
MARLBOROUGH-STREET.

Among the disorderlies brought before Mr.
CHAMBERS yesterday,.was a sun-burnt sailor, named
Harry Bailey, charged with the characteristic
offence of having been found most uproariously
drunk in the Haymarket, in the company of a fid-
dler and a whole bevy of those good-natured dam-
sels, whose smiles are principally reserved for full-
pursed members of his Majesty's navy.
The defendant, as he stood in the dock chewing
his quid, and balancing himself as in a stiff breeze,
presented the very beau ideal of an English tar of
the Harry Bhitr school.
The policeman who captured the sailor, said he
found him at a late hour last night in the Hay-
market, footing it away to his favourite tune of
4, King William for ever, huzza," with half-adozen
ladies of loose character, whom he had been stow-
ing chock full of grog in the afternoon. Conjectu-
ring from his spit and span new " rig" that he had
just come ashore with plenty of " shot in the locker,"
he gave him a lodging in the station-house, in order
to prevent his companions from robbing him. When
searched, no money was found upon him.
Mr. CHAMBERS—WeII, master, what are you ?
—Sailor (making a leg)—Seaman, your Honour.
Mr. CHAMBERS—How long have you been
ashore ?—About a week, your Honour. Got paid
off from the Thames Ingyman on Friday, and just
come to Lunnun for little fun afore I gets afloat
again.
Mr. CHAMBERS—HOW much money did you re-
ceive ? Sailor—Sixty pounds, your Honour.
Handed the rhino to my old dad for fear of the
land sharks.

Mr. CHAMBERS—How long have you been earn-
ing the money ? Sailor—Sixteen months, your
Honour.

Mr. CHAMBERS—How long do you think it will
last ? Sailor—Oh, a long while.
Mr. CHAMBERS—But how long ? Do you think
a fortnight ? Sailor—A fortnight ! why Lord love
your Honour, no. It'll may be last a week.
Mr. CHAMBERS—WeII, you was very merry last
night, I suppose—you had plenty of grog ? Sailor
—Yes : can't do without grog.
Mr. CHAMBERS—Had you any ladies with you ?
Sailor—Yes, your Honour.
Mr. CHAMBERS—Come now, how many ? Sailor

—Six on'em, and a fiddle. Couldn't do without
fiddle.
Mr. CHAMBERS (laughing)—Six ladies and a
fiddle. Why you must keep a sharp look out
it
you want to hold out a week. Why did you not
keep a better look out last night ? Sailor—Couldn't.
your Honour. Got rather blind coming home from
Ingy.
Mr. CHAMBERS—BIind drunk, I suppose
you mean ? Sailor—No, your Honour ; there was
upona shortr
iceal.
w- lowanecehaodf bread,,
but it was hard and as
and so we had to mess
The sailor here assumed a look which he sup-
posed to be quite insinuating, and begged the ma;
gistrate to let him off, as he hadn't tasted a drop
grog all the morning, and had been tucked up an.
night in the hold of the watch-house ; and rah/
than it should occur again, he declared he we'd
sooner take a double turn at look-out on the top-,
gallant yards."
Mr. CHAMBERS—WeII, get away, and don't let
trouble
ed us see you here again. Sailor—Thank r3tir
black as a slice of mahogany.
Honour (extending his hand), tip us a squeeze, n'Y
hearty.
Mr.
yopuut o
of CHAMBERSshakethe ( l
dhaoaucngkdh: whispering
i hands.
(laughing)—No, , no
the; g
I ss
The sailor then hitched up his trousers a
lurched
n
" Curse his eyes if he arn't a trump." a
:übtyle.