The Sun.
London, England, 1834-06-16 00:00:00

LIVERPOOL POLICE.

THE RAZORS MADE TO SELL.—Joseph Acerby, a
rough but honest-looking tar, was placed at the bar at
the instance of an itinerant razor vender, on a charge
of felony, under the following circumstances :
The complainant was a cunning-looking Patlander,
named. Cornelius O'Hare, who said, " May it plase
yer Honour, I dales in razors, and other matters of
necessary importance for sailors, and it was last night
that I was in a public-house near the Prince's Dock, a
showing my wares, when that fellow with the big
black whiskers stole two razors, the light of which
I've never beheld since.
MAGISTRATE—How did he do that? Razor-dealer
—Why, I goes in, yer Honour, amongst a whole lot
of sailors with my razors, what I buys to sell, when
this chap bawls out, " Hollo, my shaver, lit's look at
your tackle." So I pulls 'em out, and gives 'em to
him, when he handed 'em to his next neighbour, and
then they goes round the room till they escapes alto-
gether, and when I wants the property back, he kicks
me into the street. He was the man that took the
razors.

Prisoner—That's a lie. Howsomdever, I'll tell you
all about it, before you can lay Jack Robinson, your
Worship. I was kicking up a bit of a rumpus among
my shipmates, when in comes the razor merchant who
did Bill Jones out of 7s. 6d. for a couple of hand_
saws to scrape his mug with, and Bill pipes out, " A
land-shark a-head !" which showed us the way the
wind lay. Well, he comes and jaws about selling his
tackle, and puts 'em on the table ; but may I cross the
'Lantic in a leaky cockboat if I knows where they goes
to. I sees him all 'em out, and I sings out, " Avast
with your gammon and scud, or else I'll chuck you
through the window. He scuds accordingly, and
presently come in with a robin-redbreast in tow, who
says to me, says he, " You're the man what boned
the man's razors." " You're a liar," says I, and offers
to be searched on conditions that if they finds the ra-
zors I was to pay twenty times what they was worth
(which was little), and if they didn't I was to
pitch the shaver out o' the window. Howsomdever,
your Worship, they wouldn't by no means agree to
that regulation, so they tows me to the bilboes, and
here I is with Bill Jones, Sam Andrews, and hallthe
ship's crew, to swear the fellow's a liar.
Bill Jones, Sam Andrews, and a number of other
of Joe's shipmates, here came forward, and swore
(even without the book) that Joe never touched the
razors ; and Bill Jones complained in bitter and harsh
terms of the torture he had endured by docking his
chin's superfluous hairs with the complainant's seven
and sixpenny scratchers, purchased from him six
months ago.

Several other persons in court gave the complainant
a bad character, as being a person who lived by swin-
dling the sailors, and frequently assisting them to
smuggle. The razors he dealt in, it also appeared,
were something of the Pindaric quality, " made to
sell and not to shave," and, under these circumstances,
the Magistrate said that he should discharge the pri-
soner.

The complainant seemed much dissatisfied, and was
only pacified by a constable asking him whether he
was a licensed hawker.

The prisoner was then discharged, the Magistrate's
clerk advising the complainant to bring 101. in his
pocket the next time he came into court, as that was
the penalty inflicted for hawking without a license.