THE SEAMY SIDE.

Waikato Times, Volume 99, Issue 16654, 20 November 1925, Page 9

THE SEAMY SIDE.

TALES TOLD TO MAGISTRATES.

ST. LEGER ATMOSPHERE

(By R. E. Corder in London Daily

Mail)

Doncaster being only 18 miles awaj, the lustre of the St. Lcger was over Sheffield to-day, when the hotels were filled with sportsmen y and the police court thronged with street bookmakers and suspicious characters. The “lock-up” court ‘is gloomy and austere, and after hearing so much about the Sheffield gangs I was not surprised to see a crowd of loughlooking customers in the public gallery. Capital and Labour were evenly represented on the bench by Mr M • Clark, a managing direr I or, and Mr W. Dodgson, a Iradn union secretary, hut Ihc most striking personaiily was Me Goodwin, I lie clerk. Whoso radiant smile and coaxing voice thaw Ihc most sullen offender, who is frequently prompted in his cross-examination of witnesses by a good-natured gaoler. Nothing really mattered to-day except the St'. Lcger, and there wore many anxious glances at the clock, especially by the street bookmakers and, apparently, their clients. * * * *

Three beginners, all out of luck, were caught yesterday'. One said he made a “book” to oblige workmen and was trapped by a timekeeper. Another placed his slips in a bag, which lie laid in a hole in the wall and then ran away; and the third, who was very shy, made bets with women. Each was fined £5 and told not to do it again, and a cynical officer murmured: “They have just three hours to make it up.” * • * *

A man from Birmingham, who said he was a brasscaster hut now worked for a bookmaker, could not keep his eve off the clock while the court inquired why he travelled from Birmingham to Sheffield without a ticket. He was one of three Birmingham passengers who had arrived by the I.s7, train this morning. The other two gave up their tickets, but he, dumping a load of bookmaker’s stoek-in-trade, walked down the platform, climbed over a wall, and dropped almost into the arms of a City policeman. Both were surprised, but the man from Birmingham promptly made for the station entrance and offered the ticket collector the 9s 5d fare irom Birmingham. “But why did you get over the wall?” inquired the City policeman. “Vos, why did you?” asked Hie ticket collector. A detective-sergeant wired to Birmingham and found only two tickets had been taken for that particular train to Sheffield. That was why the brasscaster-book-maker nearly missed the St. Leger. Pined 40s, lie smiled, winked at a friend in court, and was then away “o’er the downs so free.”

A youth with red hair and aching feet missed the St. Leger altogether; but he saw the Champagne Stakes yesterday and had to walk back the long eighteen miles. His father kept the street door open, awaiting the wanderer’s return, but at two o’clock this morning a constable found him nursing his feet in a shop doorway and arrested him on suspicion of “loitering with intent.” The Bencli dismissed the case, and the youth limped out of court convinced that while racing may be “the sport of kings,” it is terribly hard on Hie feet.

All the Sheffield police arc naturally suspicious on the eve of the St. Leger, and when Constable Torton, who has three war ribbons and a dramatic delivery, saw a young man prowling outside a vicarage he concealed himself under a bush and watched. I liked the way Constable Torton gave his evidence. Not only had his voice the right dramatic quality, but he had also the art of leading up to the crisis by skilful pauses and modulation. We were all thrilled by his description of Hie prowling figure in the dark, the lighting of a match, the attempt to raise a cellar grating that would not move, the furtive slinking into a passage, the arrest, the attempt at escape, the recapture, and the fixing of the handcuffs. Police Constable Torton is not only a good soldier and rf zealous officer, he is also a born actor.

Very different was a young constable who, not being word-perfect, read his statement from carefully prepared notes —a new departure in police evidence which has possibilities of literary composition.

A prowling youth, who Is a driver by day, said he was merely passing the time because he could not get into the pictures. He was put on probation not to prowl for twelve months.

Sixty years of age, with 20 years' service in one firm, a quiet, harmlesslooking man decided that he would like a pair of roller skates and, seeing on a stall in the market a pair that took his fancy, he took them without the formality of paying the stallkeeper. The court was not so much concerned about his stealing ,the skates as to what he was going to do with them. lie did not know, his solicitor did not know, the jovial clerk gave it up, and the' Bench dismissed the case on the payment of costs. The man retired to a corner seat and wept into his pocket handkerchief. It was one of those psychological problems which occasionally arise to puzzle every magistrate.

Is there a shortage of work in the bricklaying trade? A well-built, welldressed young man, the son of a master bricklayer and himself a bricklayer’s labourer, said there was.

Mr Clark emphatically said thers was not, and added that tradesmen were taking jobs as bricklayers’ labourers.

The point was that the young man had failed to support his wife and children, who were chargeable to the union to the amount of £IOO. and, lired of his unfulfilled promises, the Bench sent, him to prison, where he will find no shortage of work during the next two months.

“I’ll pay her when I get my pension,” said another defaulting husband, who was drawing 23s from the dote and keeping the lot. “You said that three years ago,” remarked the clerk.

“That wasn’t for my wife," retorted the husband indignantly. “Oh, it was for another little matter we won’t menlion,” replied the smiling clerk, and the wife closed her lips tightly while the husband was sent to .join the bricklayer’s labourer for a month.

Then there was a spirited dash for Doncaster.