“You miserable scullion, I’ve half a notion to kill you!  If that jackass on the bench had any sense, he could see that the hat is glued fast.  I can’t take it off if I wanted to, and I wouldn’t take it off now if I could.”

[Illustration:  A COURT SCENE]

Then the judge removed the fines and excused him, and Mix went home.  He slept in his hat for a week; and even when it came off, the top of his head looked as black as if mortification had set in.

But if the judge is too particular, our sheriff is hardly careful enough.  The manner in which he permits our jail to be conducted always seemed to me interesting and original.

One day I wanted to hire a man to wheel half a dozen loads of rubbish out of my garden, and after looking around a while I found a seedy chap sitting on the end of a wharf fishing.  When I asked him if he would attend to the job, he replied thus: 

“I really can’t.  I’m sorry; but the fact is I’m in jail for six months for larceny—­sentenced last December.  I don’t mind it much, only they don’t act honest with me up at the jail.  The first week I was there Mrs. Murphy—­she’s the keeper’s wife—­wanted to clean up, and so she turned me out, and I had to hang round homeless for more’n a week.  Then, just as I was getting settled agin comfortably, the provisions ran short, and Murphy tried to borrow money of me to feed the convicts; and as I had none to lend, out I had to go agin.  In about two weeks I started in fresh and got everything snug and cheerful, when Murphy’s aunt stepped out.  Then what does that ass do but put me out agin and lock up the jail and put crape on the door, while he went off to the funeral.

“So, of course, I had to browse around, huntin’ up meals where I could get them, sometimes nibblin’ somethin’ at the tavern and other times takin’ tea with a friend.  Well, sir, hardly was that old woman buried, and me once more in the cell with the home-like feelin’ beginnin’ to creep over me, but Murphy, he says he and his wife’s got to go up to the city to get a hired girl; and when I refused to quit, Murphy grabbed me by the collar and pushed me into the street, and said he’d sick his dog on me if I came around there makin’ a fuss.

“I hung about a few days; and when I went to the jail, the boy said Murphy hadn’t got back and I’d have to call agin.  Next time I applied the boy hollered from the window that he was ‘engaged’ and couldn’t see me.  Murphy was still rummagin’ for that hired girl.  I went there eight times, and there was always some jackass of an excuse for crowdin’ me out, and I don’t know if I’ll ever get in agin.  Night afore last I busted a window with a brick and tried to crawl in through the hole, but the boy fired a gun at me, and said if I’d just wait till Mr. Murphy came back he’d have me arrested for burglary.

“Now, I think I’ve been treated mighty bad.  I’ve got a right in that jail, and it’s pretty mean in a man like Murphy to shove me off in weather like this; and I’m bound to live six months in the prison some time or other, whether he likes it or not.  I don’t mind puttin’ myself to some trouble to oblige a friend, but I hate like thunder to be imposed on.