It appeared by the evidence, that Mr. Robertus Wedderburn--being a man, as he himself said, "fruitful in imagination, but no great scholar," was in the habit of cutting out pretty little sixpenny romances, and employing the prisoner to touch them up grammatically. This caused a kind of literary intercourse between them; and at one of their interviews lately--on the subject of a new romance, to be called "Beatrice, or the Bleeding Beauty," the prisoner tendered a pawnbroker's ticket to Mr. Robertus Wedderburn, requesting him to buy it. This ticket purported to be a pledging of thirteen volumes of new novels for the trifling sum of ten shillings, and Mr. Robertus Wedderburn willingly undertook to purchase it for three shillings--wisely considering that these thirteen volumes would be a handsome addition to his little circulating library, and that at a shilling a-piece they were certainly "dog cheap." He therefore paid the prisoner the three shillings; and as soon as he could raise the money, he went to the pawnbroker's to redeem the books; when, to his utter astonishment, he found instead of _thirteen_ there were only _three_!--that the prisoner had taken the liberty of placing a 1 before the 3 on the ticket, thereby converting 3 into 13; that the three books were thus pledged for their full value; and that Mr. Robertus Wedderburn was of course bamboozled of his blunt--in the vulgar, "cheated of his money." The magistrate, having listened with great patience to the premises, asked the prisoner what he had to say for himself; and, as he only played with his hat-band in reply, he was remanded until the evening, in order that the pawnbroker might attend. In the evening he was again placed at the bar; but there was no pawnbroker in attendance; and Mr. Wedderburn begged leave to withdraw the prosecution--he having been satisfied by the bounty of the prisoner's patron. The magistrate then commented severely on the conduct of all the parties, and reluctantly consented to the prisoner's discharge. A BOLD STROKE FOR A SUPPER. A pair of showy young men, _exquisitely_ attired, with their exquisite attire cased in street mud, and their crops _à-la-Titus_ filled with bits of straw, were brought up from one of the lower apartments (commonly called the _Black "hole"_) in Covent-garden watch-house; where they had passed the night in doleful durance, merely because their appetites were in better order than their finances--or, in plain terms, because they had eaten more supper than they could pay for. They gave their names _John Bright_ and _Henry Walsh_, gents.--the former of Queen's-square, and the latter of----"nowhere in particular." The following is the story of the little adventure which brought them under the _surveillance_ of the police.