"That you must agree upon between yourselves," observed the magistrate--"I cannot assist you in the negotiation, nor can I interfere at all between you, unless she has committed some breach of the peace--Has she struck you? or are you afraid she should attempt to take away your life?" "I don't know whether she means to take away my life, or not," replied he, "but she is eternally beating me whenever she is tipsy; and that is almost every day!" "Then why do you let her drink?" "Ah! your worship, it's fine talking! I have long discontinued keeping anything drinkable in the house, except water and milk, and what is the consequence?--Why that my head is continually covered with bumps and bruises; and my chairs, tables, linen, and looking glasses, are daily converted into _gin_!" "My good friend," said his worship, somewhat impatient of the subject--"my good friend, I really cannot do anything for you. You married her 'for better or for worse, to have and to hold until death shall you part,' and you must bear your misfortune as well as you can. I repeat, I--can--do--nothing for you." "Then I am a very miserable man!" ejaculated the poor fellow, and turning from the table he heaved another sigh, so piteous and profound, that the discharge did seem to stretch his care-stuffed breast almost to bursting. THE GOLDSMITH AND THE TAILOR. An elderly goldsmith of rather choleric temperament, though well to do in the world, was brought before the magistrate on a warrant, wherein he was charged with having perpetrated an assault and battery on the person of one Mr. John Carpue, a student in tailory, or "a tailor's apprentice," as the ancients used to say. And this was the manner of it:--