His worship decided that they had both been much to blame; and he ordered the warrant to be suspended _in terrorem_ over Mrs. Welldone, and recommended Mrs. Wolf to seek other cellars as soon as possible. MR. O'FLINN, AND HIS FRIEND'S MISTRESS. Miss Susanna Smith, a very pretty young woman, attired in the newest fashion, was brought before the magistrate, on an assault warrant issued at the suit of one Mr. O'Flinn, a tall, well-dressed, sprightly native of the Emerald Isle, who had complained to his worship that he had been grievously assaulted by the said Susanna. Mr. William O'Flinn, it seems, had a friend, who is the especial _protector_ of the fair defendant. He went the other night, to deliver a letter to this friend, at the house in which Susanna resides. His friend was not at home, but he saw Susanna, and she--totally laying aside the delicacy of her sex, "and all the rest of it"--gave him one of the most scurvy receptions imaginable; viz., he was standing in the hall, inquiring at the landlady for his friend, when suddenly the parlour door opened, and out rushed Susanna with the velocity of a nine-pounder--"And pray what would you be after wanting with that gentleman?"--she asked, at the same time attempting to snatch the letter from Mr. O'Flinn's hand. "It isn't yourself that the letter is for at all, my jewel," replied Mr. O'Flinn, slipping the letter into his pocket--"and as for what I want with that gentleman, you have no right to be asking me the question." "'Faith, we'll see that," said the lady, and instantly placed her fair back against the front door, evidently with the intention of cutting off Mr. O'Flinn's retreat. Well, what was to be done now? It was growing late, and as Mr. O'Flinn very justly observed, if he was detained there he could not go elsewhere. So, after trying what remonstrance would do, and finding it had no effect whatever, he took hold of the fair hand of the lady and endeavoured to remove her from the door by a little gentle force; but, to his utter astonishment, she instantly disengaged her hand, and in the twinkling of an eye, as it were, he received two or three sound boxes on either ear, and a kick on the abdomen, which for some moments materially interfered with his faculty of breathing. Astonished that a lady should _kick_, but nothing daunted, he again advanced to the attack, or, Corinthianly speaking, to the _scratch_, taking care, this time, to advance in an attitude of defence--_à-la-Spring_. His caution was useless, however, for the lady broke through his guard in an instant, boxed his ears again soundly, or rather _soundingly_, and planted another kick on his _bowel-case_, with her dexterous little foot, in the self-same spot as before! This was an extremely awkward bit of business, and Mr. O'Flinn felt it so. He could not, consistently with his character as a gentleman, and an Irish gentleman in particular, use greater violence to a