_Accused._ Why with shame? For I am innocent. _Judge._ You are guilty, I repeat. And the jury shall share with me my opinion. I am your judge, and I assert it. _Accused._ Then this trial is a farce! _Judge._ No, Sir; take my word for it, you will find it a tragedy! [_Trial concludes in the customary fashion._ QUITE AT HOME. SCENE--_An English Court._ Accused _in Dock_. Judge _on Bench_. _Usual accessories._ _Judge._ I really must request you to be silent, in your own interest. _Accused._ But I plead guilty. _Judge._ I do not think you know what you are doing. By saying that you committed the crime of which you are accused, you deprive yourself of the chance of acquittal. _Accused._ I cannot help that. I did commit the crime--I avow it. _Judge._ You are going out of your way to assume unnecessary responsibility. It is for the gentlemen of the jury to decide. _Accused._ Surely I can judge for myself. I have only followed the family tradition. We are all villains. _Judge._ You have no right to say so. We have to deal with you, not with your relations. Now, please, plead "Not guilty." _Accused._ Anything for a quiet life! "Not Guilty." _Judge._ I am infinitely obliged to you. Thank you much. Now, what might have commenced as a tragedy may end as a farce. [_Trial concludes in the customary fashion._ * * * * * A WARNING. [The Anti-Tobacco Society has "little doubt that, if a subscription were raised to adequately support a test case, a decision would be given, which would demonstrate public smoking to be an illegal, unjust, ungentlemanly, and, therefore, unchristian habit."] To all and sundry warning, whom Tobacco holds in thrall, And a word of glad good-tidings to non-smokers one and all! You have heard of our Society--its greatness all allow-- Our intentions in the plainest terms permit me to avow. When we've brought (and won) our teat case--we shall win it, who can doubt?-- All those who hate tobacco-smoke once more may venture out; And the sun will shine far brighter--this at least, I think, is clear-- In a sweet and unpolluted and unsmoky atmosphere. Along the streets the citizens in comfort then will fare, "All delicately marching through the clear pellucid air," The patron of the music hall once more will freely breathe, And the crowd, bereft of baccy, soon will almost cease to "seethe." No more the luckless passenger will cough, and gasp, and choke, As he swallows on the 'bus-top a pernicious blend of smoke, No more we'll watch the cricket at the Oval through a haze That cigars and cigarettes and pipes innumerable raise. No more unwitting find ourselves, and miserably cower, In a third-class smoking carriage, with no stop for quite an hour, And no more from smarting eyes the tear we now shall have to wipe, Excited by the navvy's small but parlous pungent pipe.