TOLD THE MAGISTRATE

Hokitika Guardian, 24 November 1928, Page 8

TOLD THE MAGISTRATE

LONDON, October 2. Renl life save a pretty cinema attendant a sweater thrill than she had re< eived from tiio screen. When the shadow lovers had reeled out their romance the cinema girl joined her friend Cora in the Walworth Road. S.E., and the pair compared film heroes they met in the ordinary way of business.

Suddenly out of the night came Edith Eliza Bishop, a middle-aged woman with a past, who in two minutes provided more excitement for the cinema girl and her Iriend Cora than ever came out of the Hollywood studios.

Edith Eliza, who had been making a night of it, had a grievance against the world, and halting bet ore the cinema girl she said: “Aon are talking about me.” ‘- .No, madam, you are mistaken,” said the cinema girl. ‘•Quite mistaken.” said Cora.

“ Pardon me,” said Edith Eliza, ‘‘ 1 never allow anyone to take a liberty with me,” and she smote the cinema girl on the mouth.

Help,” said the cinema girl “ Good gracious,” said ( ora.

“ 1 am now going to find a policeman to protect me,” said Edith Eliza with cold dignity. She found a policeman quite easily, the same policeman, in fact, who was looking lor her, and she appeared in the dock at Lambeth Police Court on Saturday. The gaoler took a hum time to read Edith Eliza’s record, which contained several assaults, including one on the police*. > “ r | no time lias come when you must he dealt with severely—two months with hard labour,” said Air Oulton, the magistrate. “You ought to he flogged,” retorted Edith Eliza. ******

“ This woman is deaf and she sa\s she is suffering from a piano,” remarked the warrant officer gravely, contemplating a little woman who appeared io he weighed down by a secret trouble. • • What has the piano done to your ' inquired Mr Oulton solicitously. “]t is making me ill,” wailed the little woman. ” Throe brothers who ■ire out of work sit up all day and night playing the piano, and it is driving me mad.” . “Why not turn your deaf ear to it suggested the magistrate. “1 can’t replied the little woman. •<fm not deal' enough. I know every song they play, and they are terrible. They keen on playing the same things, and if they don’t stop T shall go mad What shall I do?” “Get two other people living on the property to join you and apply for a summons against noisy animals. advised Mr Oulton.

“This.man and this woman.” said the warrant officer who was having a busy morning, “have been lighting. The woman is not hurt,-but the man lias a .jack eye. a snatched nose, and a swollen lip. He asked her for the rent, this morning, and this is what he got.” “She is a wild cat,” said the landlord.

•‘lt is not the first time she has clawed me, and I want her out of the house.” “Give her notice to quit.” suggested the magistrate.’ “Rut she will murder me.” protested ...e frieghtened landlord. “If she does we will deal with her.” mumured the warrant officer consod i ugly.

“This woman,” observed the warrant officer, introducing his next client, “is here on behalf of her husband. who, being pushed by one of his tenants, fell over the bannisters and broke his leg, so he can’t come to the court.”

“What does she want me to do?” asked the magistrate helplessly.

“She wants to know if she can give the tenant notice to quit,” replied the warrant officer. “Jlut it is really her husband’s affair.” “Quite,” agreed the magistrate.

“This man.” said the warrant officer, indicating a timid-looking man, “complains that a woman neighbour caught him by the collar, shook him, held him i-y the throat, and shouted for her husband to come out and kick him. The husband did as he was told.

The man who was kicked was granted a summons, and the warrant officer gave way to the goolei.

One man was playing a fiddle and another was making the collection when a constable arrested them for begging. The magistrate decided that the pair were giving in entertainment, not bogging, and discharged them.

Some time alto a street Artist was fined at Mar.oorough-street for begging. Evidently there is a judical distinction between colour and harmony.

yesterday was a quiet day at Westminister. Claude, who was young enough to know better, stood in tiie doorway of a house occupied by P.C. 4;}71., who. because lie was in plain clothes, made no impression on Claude, u no was *.lrun!;.

“Do you live here?” asked P.C ■1:171*. *

“No.” said Claude. “Well T do.” said P.C. -137 L. “Pont be silly,” said Claud. ‘‘l am going to see a real policeman.” And he sought P C. 373 A. who was on point duty, and who speaks with an Oxford accent. ‘This man,” said Claude, pointing to

P.C. -137 L. '‘says ho is n policeman.” •■‘Really.” drawing PX. 3/3 A. “Well” I suppose lie ought to know. It ho admits being a policeman, my dear chap, why quest ion it?” ‘■Rut lie wants to arrest me,” urged Claude. “Dear old chap,” said P.C. 3/3A. “if he wants to arrest you he most certainly will. Tt is a way we have m the force. ..Resides, you . know, old tiling, you arc drunk.” The divisional surgeon agreed that Claude was drunk and the magistrate made the line and costs 12s (id. I know a constable at Lambeth who is an Eton boy. and I would not be surprised to learn that P.( . 3/3A is a public school boy. He has the manner.