Mr. Snivel having reminded the Judge that ten o’clock to-morrow morning is the time appointed for meeting Splitwood, the “nigger broker,” who furnishes capital with which they start a new paper for the new party, drops away into a refreshing sleep, his head on the marble.

“Grant me, as a favor, an order for the release of poor Tom Swiggs.  You cannot deny me this, Judge,” says Anna, with an arch smile, and pausing for a reply.

“Wol, as to that,” responds this high functionary, “if I’d power, ’twouldn’t be long afore I’d dew it, though his mother’d turn the town upside down; but I hain’t no power in the premises.  I make it a rule, on and off the bench, never to refuse the request of a pretty woman.  Chivalry, you know.”

“For your compliment, Judge, I thank you.  The granting my request, however, would be more grateful to my feelings.”

“It speaks well of your heart, my dear girl; but, you see, I’m only a Judge.  Mr. Snivel, here, probably committed him (’Snivel! here, wake up!’ he says, shaking him violently), he commits everybody.  Being a Justice of the Peace, you see, and justices of the peace being everything here, I may prevail on him to grant your request!” pursues the Judge, brightening up at the earnest manner in which Anna makes her appeal.  “Snivel!  Snivel!—­Justice Snivel, come, wake up.  Thar is a call for your sarvices.”  The Judge continues to shake the higher functionary violently.  Mr. Snivel with a modest snore rouses from his nap, says he is always ready to do a bit of a good turn.  “If you are, then,” interposes the fair girl, “let it be made known now.  Grant me an order of release for Tom Swiggs.  Remember what will be the consequence of a refusal!”

“Tom Swiggs!  Tom Swiggs!—­why I’ve made a deal of fees of that fellow.  But, viewing it in either a judicial or philosophical light, he’s quite as well where he is.  They don’t give them much to eat in jail I admit, but it is a great place for straightening the morals of a rum-head like Tom.  And he has got down so low that all the justices in the city couldn’t make him fit for respectable society.”  Mr. Snivel yawns and stretches his arms athwart.

“But you can grant me the order independent of what respectable society will do.”

Mr. Snivel replies, bowing, a pretty woman is more than a match for the whole judiciary.  He will make a good amount of fees out of Tom yet; and what his testy old mother declines to pay, he will charge to the State, as the law gives him a right to do.

“Then I am to understand!” quickly retorts Anna, rising from her chair, with an expression of contempt on her countenance, and a satirical curl on her lip, “you have no true regard for me then; your friendship is that of the knave, who has nothing to give after his ends are served.  I will leave you!” The Judge takes her gently by the arm; indignantly she pushes him from her, as her great black eyes flash with passion, and she seeks for the door.  Mr. Snivel has placed himself against it, begs she will be calm.  “Why,” he says, “get into a passion at that which was but a joke.”  The Judge touches him on the arm significantly, and whispers in his ear, “grant her the order-grant it, for peace sake, Justice Snivel.”