THE WIFE (angrily)—­Jedge, he come bustin’ in, and he come so fast he untook the do’ off’n de hinges; den ’e begins—­

THE JUDGE (to the prisoner, sarcastically)—­You wasn’t drunk, eh?

THE PRISONER (weakly)—­I might of had a drink oh two.

THE JUDGE (severely)—­Was—­you—­drunk?

THE PRISONER—­No, suh, Jedge.  Ah wasn’t drunk.  Ah don’t think no man’s drunk s’ long ’s he can navigate, Jedge.  I don’t—­

THE JUDGE—­Oh, yes, he can be!  He can navigate and navigate mighty mean!—­Ten dollars.

(At this point an officer speaks in a low tone to the judge, evidently interceding for the prisoner.)

THE JUDGE (loudly)—­No.  That fine’s very small.  If it ain’t worth ten dollars to get drunk, it ain’t worth nothing at all.  Next case!

(While the next prisoner is being brought up, the judge entertains his audience with one of the humorous monologues for which he is famous, and which, together with the summary “justice” he metes out, keeps ripples of laughter running through the room):  I’m going to get drunk myself, some day, and see what it does to me. [Laughter.] Mebbe I’ll take a little cocaine, too.

A NEGRO VOICE (from back of room, deep bass, and very fervent)—­Oh, no-o-o!  Don’t do dat, Jedge! [More laughter.]

THE JUDGE—­Where’s that prisoner?  If he was a Baptist, he wouldn’t be so slow.

(The prisoner, a yellow negro, is brought to the bar.  His trousers are mended with a large safety pin and his other equipment is to match.)

THE JUDGE (inspecting the prisoner sharply)—­You ain’t a Richmond nigger.  I can tell that to look at you.

THE PRISONER—­No, suh, Jedge.  That’s right.

THE JUDGE—­Where you from?  You’re from No’th Ca’lina, ain’t you?

THE PRISONER—­Yas, suh, Jedge.

THE JUDGE—­Six months!

(A great laugh rises from the courtroom at this.  On inquiry we learn that the “joke” depends upon the judge’s well-known aversion for negroes from North Carolina.)

Only recently I have heard Walter C. Kelly as “The Virginia Judge.”  Save for a certain gentle side which Mr. Kelly indicates, and of which I saw no signs in Judge Crutchfield, I should say that, even though Judge Crutchfield is not his model, the suggestion of him is strongly there.  Two of Mr. Kelly’s “cases” are particularly reminiscent of the Richmond Police Court.  One is as follows: 

THE JUDGE—­First case—­Sadie Anderson.

THE PRISONER—­Yassir!  That’s me!

THE JUDGE—­Thirty days in jail.  That’s me!  Next case.

The other: 

THE JUDGE—­What’s your name?

THE PRISONER—­Sam Williams.

THE JUDGE—­How old are you, Sam?

THE PRISONER—­Just twenty-four.

THE JUDGE—­You’ll be just twenty-five when you get out.  Next case!

CHAPTER XXIV