The herald and mail. [volume] (Columbia, Tenn.) 1873-188?, 1875-09-24
HIS HONOR AND BIJAH.
An Hour at the Detroit Central Station
Court.

An Aour at the Detroit Central Station
From the Detroit Free Press.
Bijah skulked into the corridor and
returned with a melancholy man. whose
shirt-collar hung by the last button. and
who had evidently been rolled over and
over in the road by the boss elephant of
the last circus.
"Your cognomen is -?' inquired his
honor.
Shoseph," replied the prisoner.
And you work at-w
"On Sherman baper," was the reply.
Ali yes. You are one of those af-
ternoon journalists who take items from
the morning papers, change name or
two, and gobble them as original" !"
81 translates, replied the prisoner,
in solemn tones.
a understand. Eve seen your trans
lations frequently, and they are well
done. Anybody who hadn't read the
other papers would thinF you had hun
dred tons of brain under your hat"
81 CAN'T help dot if. didn't want to-"
Well, Pm only giving you my indi-
vidual opinion. If | were you I'd write
my own items or sit on box and whit
tie bar soap. It's fact that you were
drunk last night, and what have you to
say about it?"
The prisoner wiped his nose in an ap-
pealing manner, and his honor continued:
It's the first time, and I'll let you
go, but if you appear here again I'll
translate you and transport you, too.
You are big enough to know how to be-
have yourself"
WhoopH exclaimed Toledo sailor
as he was brought out.
Yes, 'hoOped for sixty days." re-
piled the court, and Bijah went in for
another.
Henry Gibson came out with wild eye
and nervous step, and as soon as he could
secure a view of his honor's good ma
tured face he feelingly remarked:
protest. solemnly protest ~
Don't take on that way, Mr.. Gibson"
soOthingly replied the court.
a will, sir-I will take on! pro-
test, sir"
" Do you protest draft, Mr.. Glib
son ?'
"No, sir; I protest against the out
rage"
didn't you have sheets on your bed,
Mr.. Gibson, and didn't they give you
milk toast for breakfast ?'
" l tell you protest !" exclaimed the
prisoner.
Well, l would, too, if I'd been found
drunk with my body jammed in between
a sugar hogshead and barrel Of kero-
sene. There's lots of law in this coun-
try, Mr.. Gibson, but there's no law to
prevent you protesting from this time
until Christmas"
" Sir! | want justice said the pris-
oner; Z" 1 demand justice !"
"That's a different thing, Mr.. Gibson,
and I'm happy to say that [ can accom-
mOdate you. | find you guilty, and |
sentence you to the house Of correction
for thirty days!'
81 pro"
But Bijah pulled him in out of the
soft, sad sunlight which streamed into
the courtroom.
WANTED THOMAS.
She was little bit of woman with a
big straw hat on, and she suddenly
squeaked out:
cob! sir! 1 want to see Thomas,
sirn
"Well, look around you, and if you
see him it will be all right"
"Oh sir, he isn't here, sir" she said,
after glancing around.
" What Thomas is it ?' inquired the
court.
cob! dunnom
" Is it Thomas Jefferson ?'
Deed, sir, but | can't tell ~
cor Thomas Jones, Brown, Smith,
Perkins, De Laney, St. Clair or Wither-
SpOOn?'
None O. them, sir-it's Thomas"
Well, your Thomas is far, far away,
it seems, and now let's proceed to ask
and answer other questions. Let me in
quire if there is the remotest suspicion
in your mind that you were intoxicated
last EVENING""
cob! | can't go on till I see Thomasr'
she walled.
And Thomas, oh! where is he?"
That's what | dunno"
Well, | can't keep this case open all
summer to please Thomas, John or Joe.
You will have to plead"
g plead for Thomas" she answered.
Guilty, or not guilty ?"
Oh. sir, call for Thomas, sir ~
Madame Bliss, can't have any more
foOling around. | do not know this
Thomas. l do not know his abiding
place. He may be a wild Arab, howl
ing Turk, a bearded Russian or an Amer
lean with his hair parted in the centre for
aught | know. We must dispose of this
case"
"Thomas! oh! my Thomas" she
called as she faced the audience.
He answereth not, Mrs. Bliss, and
now | desire to know why you kicked
down the line fence between you and .
your neighbor, and threw slops at her? ?' /
Oh. sir, if Thomas was only here!'
q wish he was-Fd send him up with |.
you. | make your sentence sixty days, |
and if you ever find Thomas please send |
me his photograph"
Bijah adjourned the court, tenderly
placed the prisoners in the buggy, and |
the boys came out of the alley and sang
She's weeping for her Thomas,
And Tom, oh where is he?
If he any sort Of feer