More than half a century has elapsed since the office of Recorder of Dublin was held by Mr. William Walker, whose town residence was in Lower Dominick Street. One day a groom, in the service of a Mr. Gresson, was tried before him, for stealing his master's oats. The evidence was most conclusive, for the culprit had been detected in the act of taking a large bag of oats out of his master's stable, which was in the lane at the back of the east side of Dominick Street. When the prisoner was convicted, the Recorder addressed him to the following effect:--"The sentence of the Court is, that you are to be imprisoned for three calendar months; and at the commencement of that term you are to be publicly whipped from one end of _that lane_ to the other, and back again; and in the last week of your imprisonment, you are to be again publicly whipped from one end of _that lane_ to the other, and back again; for I am determined, with the help of Providence, to put a stop to oat-stealing in _that lane_." His worship's emphatic denunciation of oat-stealing in _that lane_, arose from the circumstance of his own stable being the next door to Mr. Gresson's. The same civic functionary was a great amateur farmer. He had a villa and some acres of land at Mount Tallant, near Harold's Cross, and prided himself upon his abundant crops of early hay. On one occasion he entered the court to discharge his judicial duties at an adjourned sessions, and was horrified at hearing from the acting Clerk of the Peace (Mr. Pemberton) that there were upwards of twenty larceny cases to be tried. "Oh!" said he, "this is shocking. I have three acres of meadow cut, and I have no doubt that the haymaking will be neglected or mismanaged in my absence." In a few minutes, he inquired in an undertone, "Is there any old offender on the calendar?" "Yes," was the reply, "there is one named Branagan, who has been twice convicted for ripping lead from roofs, and he is here now for a similar offence, committed last week in Mary's Abbey." "Send a turnkey to him," said the Recorder, "with a hint that, if he pleads guilty, he will be likely to receive a light sentence." These directions were complied with, and the lead-stealer was put to the bar and arraigned. "Are you guilty or not guilty?" "Guilty, my lord." "The sentence of the court is that you be imprisoned for three months. Remove him." Branagan retired, delighted to find a short imprisonment substituted for the transportation that he expected. As he passed through the dock, he was eagerly interrogated by the other prisoners-- "What have you got?" "Three months." "Three months--only three months!" they exclaimed; "Oh! but we're in luck. His lordship is as mild as milk this morning. It's seldom that he's in so sweet a humour." "Put forward another," said the Recorder. "Are you guilty or not guilty?" "Guilty, my lord." "Let the prisoner stand back, and arraign the next."