“Thank you, sir. What is that?” This last to the constable. “I beg your pardon, the constable tells me I ought to say ‘your worship,’ and so I does. Noah and I was in the same class; we left the school together, and the very last thing we learned was, ‘Vital spark of heavenly flame’; wasn’t it, Noah?” Noah assented. “I do not care what the course of instruction was in the school,” protested Mr. Caunter. “To the point, if you please, and remember, address yourself to the Bench. There was some sort of affray between you and Flood. The constables separated you. What led to this?” “I believe there was some tittery bit of a thing. I titched Noah, and Noah titched me, and my hat falled off. You see, your worship, I’d pomatumed my hair this morning, and so my hat didn’t sit easy. My head was all slithery like, and a little titch, and away went my hat.” “Here is the hat, your worship,” said a constable, producing and placing on the table a battered and trampled piece of headgear. “Is that your hat, John Pooke?” “I reckon it may ha’ been. But her’s got terrible knocked about. It wor a mussy that I hadn’t on my new hat I got at Exeter--that would ha’ been a pity. I bought she for sister’s Sue’s wedding. Sister Sue be a-going to be married after Easter, your worship.” “I don’t want to hear about sister Sue. So Noah Flood knocked your hat off, and that occasioned”-- “I beg your pardon, sir, I never said that. I said my head was that slithery wi’ pomatum the hat falled off, and then folks trod on it.” “Come, this is trifling with the Bench, and with the majesty of the law. The people may have trampled on your hat, but not on your head, which is cut about and battered almost as much as the hat.” “No, sir, I don’t fancy nobody trod on my head.” “How comes it about that you are so cut and bruised? I see you have had your wounds plastered.” “Yes, your worship. The surgeon, he sewed up the wust place.” “And your dear good friend and chum, and school companion, and comrade in learning ‘Vital spark of heavenly flame,’ did that, I presume?” “No, sir, it was the surgeon did it.” “What, cut your head open?” “No, sir; sewed it up.” “Then who cut your head open?” “Nobody, sir.” “Someone must have done it. This evasion only makes the case worse.” “Nobody did it at all. It was the Brazil nuts.” “Brazil nuts?” exclaimed the magistrate in astonishment. “I do not understand you.” “Well, your worship, they’re terrible hard, and have got three corners. Noah! hand over some of them nuts to his honour. Just you try your teeth on ’em, Mr. Caunter. You can’t do it. It was the Brazil nuts as cut my head. Not that it matters much. My head be nicely sewed up again, and right as ever it was.” “Explain the circumstances to the Bench, and no meandering, if you please.” “Well, that’s easy done, your worship. Noah, he’d bought thickey nuts at a stall. What did you give for ’em, Noah?” “Tu’pence,” said Flood solemnly. “Hish! hish!” from the nearest constable.