The Sun.
London, England, 1858-08-31 00:00:00

POLICE INTELLIGENCE.

MANSION-HOUSE.—Mary Leader, a small, sharp-
looking Irishwoman, who said she was " a tailor by trade,"
sad who had a very small, pale, meagre, but good-
humoured, child in her arms, was charged before the Lord
Mayor with having assaulted Mrs. Paulina Josephs, a
Dutch Jewess. The complainant made her appearance,
supported by two strong young men, who were evidently of
the same religious persuasion, and not seeming to be able
to stand, was placed tenderly in a chair in the witness-box
to give an account of the transaction.
The complainant, in a voice scarcely audible, said that the
defendant and she lived in Sussex-place, Leadenhall-street,
and that as she was going towards her house with some
potatoes which she had just bought the defendant suddenly
came behind her, and, without uttering a word, gave her a
whack with a flatiron, which knocked her flat, and then
kicked her violently in the ribs. And oh, my lord (said the
complainant, with uplifted bands), I don't think I'll ever
get over it.
A young man, who said that be was son of the complain-
ant, said—l saw it all, my lord. Mrs. Leader walked up to
my mother and struck her with the flatiron, and kicked
her in the ribs.
The Lord Mayor—But was there no quarrel between
them
Witness—l didn't bear a word.
Defendant (who exhialted mach impatience) said—Oh,
your lordship, there's not a word of truth in what they say.
Mrs. Josephs is always kicking up rows with somebody, and
she is for ever at war. It's only a few days ago she pitched
a jugful of water at me with my child in my arms, and I
only warded it off the bahy by holding up my hand, and it
was cut with the jug; and on Saturday last she flew at me,
caught me by the hair of my head, pulled out a handful,
and then bolted din,: hard as She could.
The Lord Mayor—Do not be so violent. Have you wit-
nesses for the defence?
Defendant—Why, my lord, I can bring forward my hair,
and the jug, and plenty of other witnesses. (Laughter.)
The Lord Mayor—But, my good woman, that has nothing
to do with the present charge. Why did you strike her
with the flatiron?

... .
Detendant—Never with the flatiron. It's true I gave
her a punch in the neck, but not befote she called me a
Irish cow and an Irish sow, and that was more than I could
stand; but I never was such a fool as to hit her with a flat-
iron; besides, I bad this child in my arms.
Here the defendant held up the poor pale child and
bared its little ems, which looked as if they had been
borrowed from the body of a doll. The little creature
laughed, as if it utiderst,od all that was going forward.
The Lord Mayor (to the policeman)—Do you know any-
thing of these quarrels which are so frequently occurring ?
policeman 631—My bold, you have no idea of the row.,
there. One party is a; bad as the other. The court is
entirely inhabited by Irish workpeople and German Jews,
and morning and nioht, day after day, they do nothing et
all but quarrel and fight with one another. They don't
appear to have time to do anything eke. (Laughter.)
A witness for the complainant—Oh, my lordship, we
never quarrel with the Irish, we often quarrel with one
another, but we never have no rows with a Christian.
(Great aughter.)
The Lord Mayor—Well, the Christians have to reason to
quarrel with you for that. (Laughter.) But, defendant,
if they do call you bad names that is no excuse for using
desperate weapons.
Defendant—Every time they call me a name that doesn't
belong to me, my lord, I'll give them a mark. I'll do it ;
upon my soul I will.
The Lord Mayor—Then I must send you to prison, or
you will be taken to the Old Bailey for something worse one
of these days.
Defendant—Every time they say anything to me I'll give
them something to rernemher me.
Here the defendant dandled her little one (who appeared
to be in a state of most joyous excitement, and ready to
bounce into the arms of anybody) from one shoulder to the
other.
Defendant—My lord, all I want is quietness. (Roars of
laughter.)
The Lord Mayor—But, Mrs. Leader, if you can't live
quietly here, why don't you go hack to Ireland ?
Defendant—Go beck to' Ireland, my lord ! Why don't
those rascally Jews go back to the place they came from ?
I'm sure neither you nor the wants them here. (Laughter.)
Now, there's that Jew there that says he never quarrelled
wilThhae Ccohmripstliaainna:ntW Why,
her lamentable condition saw me in the court and called me an Irish cat. I wish I
tills morning, at seven o'clock, he
could have got at him ; I'd have showed him that an Irish
cat had claws. (Laughter.)
that you have recovered 's
said in an energetic
at somebody or other, and
dealea h boetthteerr).
but(L hisa (Laughter.)
glhotredrs.h):
lordship
w a
s nicely.
The Lord Mayor—Oh, Mrs. ----"
tamed up from the chair with which in
she had been accommodated, and
The complainant and defendant then
beganseemtogladbeatogreated to give the officers