Australian Tales - Setis

prior to remanding it to a future day.
The prosecutor was then sworn in the usual form, and gave his
evidence substantially correct. He described his disastrous meeting with
Micky, and the latter volunteering to catch the runaway horse. He further
stated that he had sat for three hours under a tree, reading the two
books — produced — which prisoner had recommended him to read, till
he returned with the horse. That a traveller had passed who informed him
that he had met a man riding a horse, which, from the description, he
concluded was his own beast; and also concluded, that he had been
duped out of his horse and saddle-bags. He then started on foot towards
the nearest station, but was benighted in the bush: finally he reached that
township, and a warrant for the apprehension of the prisoner was
immediately issued on his application.
“You swear positively to the identity of the prisoner, do you?” asked
the magistrate.
“I do, your worship,” said the prosecutor, “though he has attempted to
disguise himself by shaving all his hair from his head and face, since I
last saw him. Still, I clearly identify him by his peculiar idiom, his long
cloak, and his ragged hat.”
“I don't deny anythin in the worrld, yer honor,” interrupted Micky;
“leastways, I do deny — ”
“Silence, sir,” said the magistrate, with a severe frown: “you don't
deny, and you do deny; what do you mean by such impudence?”
At that moment the unpunctual J.P. walked into Court and took his seat
on the bench.
“Arrah, be jingo! that's the jintleman what shaved me, as clane as little
Judy Fagan,” shouted Micky, while he danced with delight and pointed
to the bench.
The barefaced assertion that a magistrate had acted barber to a
bushranger was a severe shock to the sensitive feelings of the two
constables in court, and far more than their patience could quietly put up
with. They both shouted silence, and at the same time shook poor Micky,
till all his joints cracked like dry sticks.
“Leave the man alone, constables,” said the gentleman just alluded to,
sternly. “How dare you illuse a prisoner in that way?”
“He's an incorrigible miscreant,” said the other J.P., with a defiant look
at his colleague, and an approving glance at the constables, who
straightened their shirt collars, and coughed.
“What is the charge against the prisoner?” asked the rational J.P.
With some sotte voce insinuations, that if the inquirer had not been
absent from his duties, as usual, he would have heard the charge, — the
testy J.P. ordered the evidence to be read over by the clerk of the court.
“It is clear to me that I shall be a material witness in this case,” said the
gentleman, rising, after the evidence had been read. “I have seen that