[Illustration: _Model_. "I BOUGHT A PICTURE O' YOURS THE OTHER DAY, SIR." _Artist_. "REALLY! WHERE DID YOU GET IT?" _Model_. "GOT IT AT A LITTLE PAWNSHOP--'ALF-A-CROWN I GIVE FOR IT." (_Artist emits a sardonic laugh_.) "WHY, I 'AVEN'T BIN 'AD, 'AVE I, SIR?"] * * * * * PUMPENHEIM. When Adolf Hans Pumpenheim, farmer, was brought up for trial as a civil offender it is not too much to say that a shudder passed through the members of the Summary Court, which consisted of Major Blenkin and myself. This emotion was due not so much to the unprepossessing appearance of the prisoner as to the enormity of his offence. He was charged upon two different counts: firstly, with being in illegal possession of two tins of corned beef and one cake of soap, the property of the British Government; secondly, with having offered a bribe of fifty marks to Second-Lieutenant Robinson in order to escape arrest. The charge was translated to the prisoner by an interpreter, who in his turn appeared to feel the gravity of the occasion. He alluded with bated breath to the topic of corned beef; he slid, so to speak, over the soap; only in the mention of the fifty marks did his voice ring out confidently, as though righteous indignation had overcome the baser sentiment of pity. Pumpenheim listened in silence. When invited to plead Guilty or Not Guilty he made no reply. Judges are only human. I cannot state that his innocence was presumed. The evidence was brief. A corporal of foot police, after examining the articles produced in court, pronounced them to be indubitably two tins of corned beef and a cake of soap, and further declared that he had found them in the prisoner's house, no troops being at that time billeted upon him. Second-Lieutenant Robinson deposed that upon his arrival the prisoner had thrust a fifty-mark note into his hand, accompanying the action with gestures and grimaces suggestive of bribery. Here we all looked at Pumpenheim. His features afforded no sign of intelligence or even of interest. For his particular benefit the evidence was translated. He was further invited to question the witnesses or to call testimony on his own behalf. To these offers he responded with a shrug indicating that he waived all rights. The court was therefore cleared, and Major Blenkin and I proceeded to consider our verdict, with no other company than the dozen empty stools which had faced us during the trial, and which represented the inalienable right of the civil population to attend the court if they pleased. Custom forbids me to divulge the finding or the sentence. It will suffice to say that justice was tempered with mercy. We were about to readmit the prisoner, his escort and the imaginary public when my partner in the suppression of crime was struck by an idea. "Look here," asked Major Blenkin, "what about the moral aspect?"