The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1867-04-26
A Court Scene.

drunk ana noisy In house IN -, and II
was also intimatcd by the complainant, that
Ned was, in all probability, a little cracked.
Mr.. Merlin was considerably out at the
knees and the elbows, and his shirt seemed
like it might be the identical two napkins,
sewn together, which belonged to the second
most fortunate of Sir John Falstaf7s coun-
try troopers. In short, Mr.. Merlin appear
ed to be regular loafer, with this sole
exception, that his tongue went like per-
petual motion, whereas it is one of the
too lazy to talk The most interesting fea-
ture, however, of Mr. Merlins character is,
that he's poet, and that, too, of so una
says suns into rhyme as natural as if he
line.
Mrs. Donovan, the complainant, is a
little Irish woman, who keeps one Of those
''hole in the WALL shanties, where they
purport to sell ''the best of good liquor at
three cents glass )" and it appeared in
the evidence that Merlin had done every
justice 10 her ''best of good liquors" but
had ventured no further in her favor for,
when she began to remind him of the three
I cents glass part of the ceremony, he went
into a blaze of indignation, and let the
arrows of his wrath fly around him like a
fen de .jOae OF congreve rockets.
Fax, your honor continued Mrs.
| Donovan, at the conclusion of long drawn
out story of her woes, ''he drank me brandy
with as little compunctions as if it was
nothing but dish wather, for the devil a
sup ov pint and half he left behind him
to sarge another customer
Magistrate-Did he take it by force =?
Mrs. Donovan Mersha, no, your honor /;
but he went on like a play-acthor, until |
thought he was raisin the divil, and bad
win to me if | wasn't afeared to say sin
gle word until nary drop was left in the
bottle. In throth your honor, if he's not a
witch or divil, or something in that line,
| think he must be out of his seven senses.
Magistrate-Merlin, what have YOU to
say to this business ?
| Merlin
/ say my lord as quick as winking,
The liquor was not worth the drinking,
And charge the bag | have my eyes on,
With selling drugs that's worse than poison
Mrs. Donovan-That' the way he whit
on win he was drinking up all my beautiful
brandy widont paving for it, your honor
Jaizes, you backguard, If you call me g
hag agin, I'll smash your ugly mug into
smithers.
Merlin
Beware, good woman, say not so,
And we'll be friends before we 60,
The much l fear your liquor horrd,
! viii bore a hole out through my forehead.
Mrs. Donovan-The divil mind We, nary
body that speaks in such an outlandisE
language as that Your honor, dear, do yor
think he gifts it all out ov book, or is il
cracked wild learnin he is?
! Magistrate-He either fool or a rogue
Merlin, answer me plainly, who are you?
Merlin
A man, my lord, from hat to shoe.
Flesh, blood and bones, the same as you.
Magistrate--I mean, what is your bust
ness?
Merlin
My business-bah, scorn the name
My business is to seek for fame.
The muses., sir are my delight,
/ WOO them from morn till night.
| Come, sweet Urania, heavenly maid,
| Oh, come to thine own Merlins aid.
Magistrate-Giveo over your rhyming, sir
and tell me plainly, where do you live?
Merlin
When the sun is high and hot,
All around seek my lot
Lolling in sequestered nook,
Listening to the babbling brook;
Or, scorning blanket, sheet or rug.
SHOOTING in the park so snug
But in cold weather, It's my plan
! To live, my lord where best l can.
Magistrate-Hang you, you rascal, speal
in prose.
Merlin
I will, my lord, by all the gods.
meant no harm but where's the odds !?
Oh, blest Urania, come along
And give my lord soul for song.
Mrs. Donovan-The Lord help the poo
crayther; but believe be wants straigh
waistcCat worse nor any brandy. You
honor, darlint, I'll forgive him the brand,
and the breakin oy me chairs but [ thin
it nd be charity to have him put some
where that would bring him his raisin, anc
purvent him from speakin such onchristial
language
Merlin
Thus I'm doomed where Ter 60,
My jewels before swine to throw.
Mrs Donovan-You blackguard, if 70,
call me swine, III make you pay for tn
brandy if you were as mad as March hare
Magistrate-Does any one here know thi
man?
Watchman-Yes, sir; do; he's calle
the mad poet and is always drinking brand
and talking nonsense he does nothing 70
living, and lives nowhere / believe h
couldn't speak like any other man if h
tried.
Merlin
IT'S true, am before my time.
For all men yet shall speak in rhyme.
My lord, am no cheat, for see
The proofs of my true poetry:
Ny hat, with half the crown beat in;
My trowserloons, not worth pin
My coat, deficient of skirt;
And with, at best. but half a SKIRT,
And then my thirst for brandy-sure,
You want no more-the proof is pure.
Magistrate-I believe you re better poe
than man, but your doggerel can't save yo
i must commit you for vagrant.
Merlin
Oh, shades Of Milton-Homer, oh
And must | to the trcadmil GO
Magistrate-No Homer and Shake
speare say that you need only to be sent t
, stone breaking.