“‘Ah, good! We’ll try the civil suit first.’ “The plaintiff in the civil suit was a pale-faced, poorly-dressed woman, with a forlorn, forsaken, half-starved appearance, who sat on a bench with a sickly-looking infant in her arms. When she stood up to be sworn as a witness she was compelled to lean on the table to keep from falling. “‘What is your complaint, madame, against Judge Bosh?’ demanded the mayor gruffly, as he stared savagely at the poor woman. In a low, tremulous tone she stated her case: “‘I contracted with Judge Bosh to work for him three months, for six dollars per month; I worked for him for two months and three-quarters, then fell ill, so that I was unable to work any more. He refused to pay me because I was unable to work the other quarter of a month. As soon as I got able to walk I went back and offered to work out my contract, but he said that it was too late--that he had made other arrangements. We are out of provisions at home, sir, and I hope you will make the judge pay me for the work I have done for him.’ “‘No doubt you do, no doubt you do,’ growled the fountain of justice, as he told the plaintiff to stand aside. ‘What has the defendant got to say?’ and he smiled blandly on Judge Bosh as that distinguished individual stepped forward and laid his hand on the Bible. ‘It is unnecessary to swear you; please make your statement.’ “‘That woman contracted to serve me three months. She failed to comply with her contract. As to her reasons, I know nothing about them, neither do I wish to know. A contract is a contract, and it binds both parties. She violated it, and I demand judgment.’ “‘Certainly, certainly, judge; most assuredly you are clearly entitled to it. Judgment against plaintiff for cost,’ he muttered as he wrote down the entry on his docket. “The poor woman staggered out of the room, and fell fainting on the pavement. “‘What’s next, Mr. Marshal?’ “‘A charge of assault and battery against Harry Wallingford.’ “‘Is that the little scamp who tried to murder our esteemed young friend, Bowles? He looks like a first-class rascal. I’ll teach him a lesson that he’ll not forget soon. O, Lord, how wicked this world is getting to be!’ And he attempted to sigh, but it was a savage growl.