His appearance was always enough to create laughter. The charge, always the same--being drunk, imagining himself a policeman, and creating obstruction by directing the traffic in the streets--made the laughter more pronounced; but most amusing of all was the way in which he cross-examined the officer who arrested him, and the familiar assurance with which he addressed the magistrate. He had a round, clean-shaven face, wore glasses, his head was totally devoid of hair, and looked like a bladder of lard; his face was just visible over the dock railing. He had been a hard-working man, and could earn good wages. His wife--well for him--was a most careful woman; as they had no children, she had saved money, and they owned a row of cottages in the suburbs. Besides the ambition of becoming a big policeman, he was in possession of another, or, rather, another was in possession of him. He loved flowers generally, but dahlias were his especial pride, and he would spare no trouble in his desire to have the best and choicest that could be obtained. His love for flowers never got him into trouble--in fact, he remembered flowers no more when he had taken a glass; but then his other ambition became rampant. He was a bit of a humorist, and quite a logician, as the various magistrates found. He had been charged several times before I made his acquaintance. The particular morning when I first saw him, a big policeman, quite young and fresh from the country, had found him in the street, putting up his hand and stopping the traffic in a very busy thoroughfare. A collision ensued, and the traffic got into a complete tangle. As the little man refused to leave his post of duty, the officer took him into custody, and he was charged. The officer, fresh to giving evidence in a London court, was nervous and confused, and spoke in a very low tone of voice. Ebbs watched him closely for a time, and then called out to the officer: ‘Speak out and speak plainly. Don’t be afraid of me. I want to hear the evidence.’ ‘Do speak up, officer,’ said the magistrate; ‘I want to hear myself.’ This made the officer more nervous still. He made a sorry mess of his evidence, but there was no doubt as to the main facts. ‘What have you to say to it?’ asked Mr. G. Chance, who was then sitting. ‘Well, your worship, you have heard the evasive way in which the officer has given his evidence. He is but an unsophisticated countryman. What can he know? Your experience and judgment, I am sure, will not allow you to take his word in preference to mine.’ ‘I think it will,’ said his worship. ‘You see, you were here last week on a similar charge, and I fined you ten shillings. To-day I must fine you twenty.’ He was taken to the cells, but his wife came and paid the money, taking him home with her.