THE SEAMY SIDE.

Waikato Times, Volume 100, Issue 16811, 1 June 1926, Page 10

THE SEAMY SIDE.

TALES TOLD TO MAGISTRATE. OLDEST QUARREL IN THE WORLD. (By R. E. Corrlcr In London Dally Mall). Jealousy produced two domestic dramas at Thames Police Court yesterday. In tho first case an elderly man brought his reluctant wife to court and accused her of making love to the family friend. "I came home from work last night," complained the husband, "and I said to myself, 'Where the is my wife?' I thought she was out, hut I found her in the arms of my best pal." "That's right," agreed the wife. "Ho was no stranger. He is my husband's host friend. Wc have known him for years, and often he helps me with lhe housework." "Do you want a divorce?" asked .Mr Sharpe, the magistrate, of the husband, who said he did; but he loft the courL With his wife, who continued to remind him of the many times he had knocked her about. "And you I now," she added, as they passed through the door, "he is your best ri'r'.-.1. We've known him for years." \ red-haired girl, wearing a smart crroii costume that emphasised her attraction, complained that her old >v,eelHearl, with whom she had kept rnrnp.uiy f:>r nearly three years, was so jealous of his rival that he had beaten her, and he threatened to give her a good hiding every time she met the new lover.

"You don't want him sent to prison?" suggested the magistrate. •Indeed I do," retorted the girl. "My life is nut safe while he is at liberty, and I want to meet my new young man without being beaten by the Other one." An ollicer undertook to warn the rejected lover that the cave-man business would gel him into serious trouble.

"You will need a big policeman; he's a terror I" said tiie girl, a note of pride struggling with her resentment.

The next girl to appear pointed to a black eye. "Did your sweetheart give you that?" asked Mr Sharpe. "No, he did not," replied the girl sharply- "He is not that sort. I got ihis from a man who was fighting my father." "And he hit you by mistake?"'suggested the magistrate. "No. he didn't," retorted the girl. "lie hit me to keep me quiet."

Many women who come to Thames Police Court witli their Lroubles hesitate to repeat to tiie magistrate the naughty words used by their enemies. The sense of delicacy is not prompted by their own modesty; they are afraid of shocking the sensitive nature of the magistrate.

"Uh, i could not repeat what she Maid, declared a woman whose husband, being in charge of a small charitable institution, was fair gmnc fur disappointed applicants. • Come up here and whisper it io me," commanded Mr Sharp; and tiie uldshing wife went on to the bench, and softly repeated the allegation of mi offending neighbour. "The first phrase means nothing," observed Mr Sharpe judicially. "'Plotters' is merely vulgar abuse. But the other term is serious. You may take out a summons."

Patrick O'Brien is a small a nd insignificant looking Irishman who has an ambition to move in high circles. Less than a week ago he arrived in London with £ll in his pocket, and in four days was almost penniless. But he was a man of large resource and smaU conscience. First he went to the High Commissioner for Newfoundland with a story that he had been born at St. Johns. The High Commissioner declined to' have anything to do with him, but Patrick, undismayed, rang up the Sailors' Home Trust in the East End and announced that he was the High Commissioner for Newfoundland and that he was sending along one Patrick O'Brien, who was a deserving case, and please would they supply him with money and an outfit? Later in the day Patrick O'Brien arrived at the home, drew 5s and a suit of clothes, and was making himself at home when another inmalc remembered that he had heard-Patrick telephoning his orders from a post office. So Patrick pleaded guilty and was remanded in custody.

Stolen joy-rides in purloined cars by young thieves who are more intent on pleasure than profit are adding to the problems of the police. Modern boys who make a hobby of motor cars and can detect different cars as their fathers knew, postage stamps and marbles seek the thrill of adventure in boarding and driving an unguarded car which they desert in an obscure suburb. Solomon Zelkin, aged 16, of Commercial Road, went one better. He entered a garage in Barnardo Street and fold the proprietor that he had been sent by the owner of a car to clean it. He was allowed to take out the car, but he had not gone far when he took part in a collision in Whiteehapel Road, which so quenched his thirst for adventure that he returned the car and surrendered to the police. A year ago Solomon Zelkin was found wandering on his birthday, and he escaped being sent to an industrial school because his arrest took place two hours after midnight and he was too old for the order, lie is now destined for Borstal. Incidentally he is a won't-work, idleness being his besetting sin.