MATCH-SELLER RELEASED

Evening Star, Issue 21936, 24 January 1935, Page 12

MATCH-SELLER RELEASED

MAGISTRATE'S SYMPATHY Little Annie, a worn and fragile old maid, won a victory at Marylebone Police Cohrt (writes R. E. Corder recently in the ‘ Daily Mail ’), and established a precedent that will affect the relations between the police arid the match sellers of the London streets. Nobody could look less like a fighter than Annie—this thin, faded, lonely little woman who, in and out of season, has stood in Baker street, in her faded black clothes, with the same faded flowers in the same old-fashioned hat, seeking coppers to giv,e her a meal and a night’s lodging. A young policeman who knew not Annie came along, warned her, passed on, warned her again, and then arrested her for begging.

Mr Snell, the mapistrate, wanted to know why Annie, who had been on the same pitch for years unmolested by policemen, should be arrested. “ Why have you repeatedly cautioned her when other officers ignored her?” he asked the arresting officer. “No two policemen have the same idea of their work,” replied the young constable. “ 1 thought she was obstructing the traffic by standing on the pavement instead of on the kerb.” “ I don’t wish to make any unpleasantness,” said Mr Snell, with the bluff sportsmanship of a man who has played football for the Corinthians, “ but if this woman has got a pitch where for three or four years she has been recognised to sell matches, with policemen passing her daily, I cannot understand why she should be selected for an arrest. She does not force herself on the public, and she did not expose a pitiful object like a young child.” Annie, who had never taken advantage of charity, who when hiftigry had not gone to where she could get a spare meal, wept and shook at a sympathetic word. “ Stop crying,” said Mr Snell, not so sternly; then, turning to the arresting officer, he said: “It is rather strange you should have picked out this woman. Your duty is to stop unpleasant molestation of the public and keep the streets neat and tidy.” ■ Then, addressing Annie, the Magistrate said kindly: “You can go away.”

Annie, wiping the tears from her eyes, dropped a curtsey, and slowly dragging a rheumatic foot, walked out of court a free woman—free to stand in the street in rain, and frost, and fog, and cold to sell matches. She had won a charity charter from one of the sternest magistrates on the Bench.