The Sun.
London, England, 1835-05-12 00:00:00

MARLBOROUGH- STREET.

Patrick James, and his wife, with all the little Jameses,
breeched and unbreeched, were brought before Mr. CHAM-
BERS and the Rev. W. THURSBY, for having, against the
peace of our Sovereign Lord the King, inflicted divers
pinches, thumps, and bumps, on the person of Peter Hea-
ther, on Sunday morning.
The complainant, who was what Mrs. Malaprop would
designate a man of " Herculaneum proportions"--while, on
the other hand, the defendants were like a race of pigmies
—bore in his hand a long riding whip ; his wife and wit-
nesses each carrying a large brickbat.

Your Worship (began the complainant) I live in Ty
court, on the first floor, and the five prisoners lodge over-
head. For the last two years the little boy in the frock and
pinafore has been the terror of the whole neighbouihood,
from his chucking bakker-pipes and other missile weapons
into people's winders ; and, as for tither lad, he's the most
notoriousest gambler as ever was, for he's always tossing for
marbles with my children. The eldest boy looks little, but
I know he's eighteen. _ _ _

Mrs. James—You know he's eighteen. How dare you
stand there and say you know how old any of my children
are, you nasty, impudent, good-for-nothing ?
• Mr. CHAMBERS—Why, woman, you need not be in such
a passion with him, for only guessing how old the boy is.
Complainant—Well, your Worships, from what I have
stated, I have a right to predict that Mrs. James's
children are considered to be most internal nuisances.
Patrick James (slapping the desk)—Mark that word,
your Worships! If there's law to be had for money I'll
sarve him out for calling my children infernal nuisancr:s.
Mr. CHAMBERS—HoId your tongue, man, and let the
complainant finish his story.'
Complainant—Hearing em a gambling as usual on Sun-
day morning in the back-yard, I takes this here whip and
rattles it twice again the door in the passage. This pro-
ceeding had no beneficial effect, so I went into the yard,
and when I got there I wasn't able to set my eyes on a
single human being. Before I'd done wondering what
had become on 'em, the father creeps behind me with his
shoes off, the mother rushes out of one side, and the boys
out of the other, and begins to "hide" me in the most
barbourest manner. They chucked me down on my back,
punched me in my ribs, and if my nose hadn't luckily
busted out a bleeding, I can't say how it might have ended.
When I opened my eyes all the defendants "flew" up stairs
to get out of my wengeance. There's another point (con-
tinued the complainant, almost shedding tears), I've been
in the court forts, “.ii respeetecj from the Lop to
the bottom ; and now every time I comes home one of the
calling out, " There goes old. bum-bailiff Heather."
My heart's ready to bust sometimes at such scandalous
epithets.
_ _

Mr. CHAMBERS—What is your trade ? Complainant
(wiping his eyes)—l follow the jobbing porter line at auc-
tion-rooms.

Defendant—By permission of this Honourable Board I
beg to state that on Sunday morning, hearing cries of " Mur-
der," I ran down stairs, and found Mr. Heather knocking
out my children's brains with the butt-end of the whip.
Complainant—Hah ! I thought he'd say that, but I've
got a witness to rebut it.

Defendant—Mr. Heather was drunk that morning.
Complainant—l'll bring a witness to contradict you.
Was I drunk ? Witness—Not to my knowledge.
Mr. CHAMBERS—Was he sober ? Witness—Not to my
knowledge.

Mr. CHAMBERS—Go out with the officer both of you,
and try to arrange the quarrel.
Mrs. Heather—ls it lawful for Mrs. James to knock my
poor baby's brains out with the'se brickbats ?
Mr. CHAMBERS—And officer, don't let the women inter-
fere, or you will never get matters settled.
The parties retired, and after some time the business was
arranged by the defendant paying the expenses.