The Tiffin tribune. (Tiffin, Ohio) 1868-1887, 1874-05-21
VOLUME 26-NUMBER 81,
THE BIRBs IxPROYEn.

1
IN the Fourteenth Ward. Tue ,,ffir, r
Gould not dets rmiur whether he ~
/ lntoXicated or insane; but IS lie sid
tnat ne mad no home, he was taken
IN charge as a vAgrznI. He had been
traVersing the streets with folded
arms, talking to himself odd bits of
plays aud poems He possessed q
faculty OF quotation equal 10 Richard
SWiyeller, Esq, but be was AS rrek-
less about the exactitude Of his ex-
tracts, and jumbled up his Authorities
with as much confusion rs Captain
Cutie himself He seldom gave 8
quotation correct, but would break of
IN the middle and substitute some
words Of his own, or dOVetAil in an ir-
relevant piece from some strange au-
thors with Interpretations OF his own.
In an inextrieabls verbal jumble.
Cierk-What's your nams2
Prisoner-Peter knight; am q na-
tive to the marrow
Shakespeare.
Clerk-Were you intoxicated yes
terdsy?
PrisOner'-'Tis true, tits pity, pity
tits there isn't the devil doubt Of It
that's Scott.
Clerk-Where did you get liquor?
Observation-Disclosures tie bee sucks
there sucks Peter all day. Thou base,
ingloriOus slave, think'st thou / will
reveal the name OF him who gave
me the wine? No, Stree, BOb-thaL's
Beaumont and Fletcher.
Oficer lin . vhisperl-If you don't
tell you'll have to 20 to Jail.
PFisOnar-T do r-unnr,ha, -, 1911,
ecAryi and hereabout dWslls-no he
don't, he lives oyer In the boWerv-
but In his needy shop . Goldfish hangs.
ana on his shelves . beggariy account
Of empty bottles. Nothing this penu-
~ to myself, / said, IL any man did
need = brandy punch, whose sale is
$50 hne In Gotham, here lives . caItiff
wretch who has probably got plenty
OF IL under his counter. Why should
L here conceal my fault? Wine, /
cried. The call was answered. /
have no wine, said he, but plenty of
whs-. Silence, thou, pernicious cal
tin, quoth j; thou invisible spirit of
VINE since We can get thee
BY no other name, let
Us call thee gin aud sugar. He
brought the cursed juice Of Juniper in
q pbial and In the porehes Of my
throat did pour UdOlpho VOLTS dis
ulment Thus was by = Dutchman's
hand At once dispatched-nOt drunk
nor sober-sent into the dirty station
house, three-quarters tight, with all
my imperfectlOns on my head. The
fellows name my very soul rs6els.
But whether IL 10 noble In the mind
to sutfer the buffs and bruises Of this
bloody Dutchman, or to take arms
against bis red-haired highness, and
by informing end them ? 90 and It
Is done. Villain, here's at thy heAIt!
His name, your honor, Is Cob Bles-
nofkin, in the BOwery. That's Shake
spere mixed.
Clerk-HAve you got home?
PrisOner-My home is on the deep
sea-thats PIutareh's Lives.
Clerk-HOy do you get your living.
PrisOner-DOubt thou the stars are
hre doubt that the sun doth move !;
doubt truth 70 be = liar but never
doubt that Pll get living while the
oyster sloops don't have but . single,
solitary watehman-that's Bill ).
again.
CIerk-DO you pay for your Oys-
Cers ?
Prisoner-RAse Is the slave that
pays the speed Of thought il In my
limbs-that's Byron
Clerk-DO you steal and then run
away?
PrisOner-pVe told thee all; pll tell
no more though short the story may
be let me go back where l was be-
fore, and I'll get my living without
troubling the COrpOrstiOn-that's Tom
Moore, altered to suit circumstances.
Justice (evidently at loss, In whis-
per to mystihed clerk IL think he's
crazy, what do you think It's best to
do with him
Prisoner (Overhearing)-Of with
his head so much-that'sS 8. euFtailed.
Justice-Will you premise to dis
pense with the brandy and gin II you
are discharged?
Prisoner-Oh, could be happy with
either Wer0 t'Other dear charmer bot
tied up and cork put in-that's Dibdin
with . vengeance.
become Of you IL you 60 on this. way,
living as you have done Z?
Prisoner-Alas, poor Yoric Peter,
1 mean. Who knows where he will
lay his bones few and short will the
prayers be said, and nobOdy'n feel
any sorroW but they'll cram him in
to his clAy-cOld bed, and bury some
body else on top Of him tomorrow I;
the minister will come put on his
robe, and read the service the
choir'll sing = hymn earth to earth
and dust to gravel, and that'll be the
last Of Peter knight.
Clerk-Peter we'll have to send you
up for ten days.
Prisoner-Fare thee well, and n for
ever all the bettsT-that's Byron re-
Vised and curtaiIed.