The Cotton Factory Times. — 1887-07-15 (Manchester, Greater Manchester, England)

SCIUMILD.  Wsterhead, June 27, 1887.  A. Groat Cruailaal• A. man was arrested in Kansas for violently ; assaulting a stranger. The magistrate before whom !the trial was held seemed to be kind-hearted and 'disposed to rule justly, and the extreme care which :he exhibited in the examination of the case at once commanded the respect of the prosecuting witness. !" Mr. Jackson," said the magistrate, addressing the .aggressor, "It is greatly to be lamented that you so fa.: forgot yourself as to strike this old man, and, 'sir. I feel it to be my sworn duty to fine you to the Ind extent of the law." "Judge." Mr. Jackson rejoined, •‘ when you have learned all the facts you :cannot blame me. He accused me of dishonesty and—" But that gave you no just cause for ztriking him with a bludgeon." "And," Mr. Jackson continued, "he said that he would not believe me on oath." "That was serious, it is true, Mr. Jackson, still it did not warrant such a murderous assault. I'll have to fine you." "Wait a minute, Judge. It was not what he said to me that caused me to strike him." 'You took up the defence of someone else, then. Mr. Jackson, that makes it still worse." Hold on, Judge. After he had abused :me he turned to a man who stood near and said: This town isn't on such a boom, after all.' I could not stand that, your Honour, I actually could not, and I hauled off and knocked him down." A dark expression settled upon the magistrate's face, and, turning to the old man, he said, "I've got 36 lots in this town for sale cheap for cash, and all of them are eLoellent business sites. Now, you, a stranger whom I have never harmed, come along and .attempt to depreciate my property. You, sir, a ,Nihilist in this great whirl of improvement, come ihere and attempt to assassinate the monarch of our !growth. W'y, -- your Communistic buttons, we ought to bang you. Do you mean to say, sir," the judge fiercely demanded, "that my lots are not ,worth 4200 a piece? Yes, you do mean to say it !" ;he exclaimed, without giving the old man a chance to reply. "Yes, and you mean to do worse than ;that. You mean to tarn this great commercial emporitrn into a graveyard. Here, constable, put Abase new handcuffs on this fellow. Boys, come around to-night after the Real Estate Exchange closes and we'll attend to him." Arkansaw Tr“reler.  True ADMISSION TICIUMI FlRST.—Bridget: "Miss, ,dere is two ladies wants Loses you."—Miss: " Well, (I hope you invited them into the parlour."— Bridget: No, miss, I tonght I hab better brung :3tou de tickets fus'." ; " Ah, sir," said a gloomy-looking minister of the Psootch Kirk, addressing a stranger who was standing on the bridge of the Lord of the Isles as she steamed through the Kyles of Bute, "does the thought ever occur to ye of the great onoertainty of life?" "Indeed it does," returned the stranger briskly," many times a day." "And have you ever reflected, sir," went on the minister, that we can be launched into eternity at any instant?" "Yes," returned the stranger. and said it too, thousands of tr.- 4er." " Indeed," ejaculated the parson. "Then is it possi's!e that I am spett&ing to a brother minister ?" " Well, no," answered the other pro:nptly, "you are not. If you must know, lam the travelling agent of the Royal Lynx Life Assur. arce Association; and if you are not assured, I can strongly recominend you to give onr office a turn. You will find 52e01a1 tennis for ministers in table K of our prospectus ;" and handing to the astoished divine a printed leaflet from his satchel, he left him without another word. MR.