"William Taylor!" calls a court officer.
A negro is brought from the cage to the bar of justice. He is a sad
spectacle, his face adorned with a long strip of surgeon's plaster. The
judge looks at him over his glasses. The hearing proceeds as follows:
COURT OFFICER (to prisoner)--Get over there! (Prisoner obeys.)
JUDGE CRUTCHFIELD--Sunday drunk--Five dollars.
It is over.
The next prisoner is already on his way to the bar. He is a short, wide
negro, very black and tattered. A large black negress, evidently his
consort, arises as witness against him. The case goes as follows:
JUDGE CRUTCHFIELD--Drunk?
THE WIFE (looking contemptuously at her spouse)--Drunk? Yass, Jedge,
drunk. _Always_ drunk.
THE PRISONER (meekly)--I ain't been drunk, Jedge.
THE JUDGE--Yes, you have. I can see you've got your sign up this
morning. (Looking toward cage at back of room): Make them niggers stop
talkin' back there! (To the wife): What did he do, Mandy?
THE WIFE (angrily)--Jedge, he come bustin' in, and he come so fast he
untook the do' off'n de hinges; den 'e begins--
THE JUDGE (to the prisoner, sarcastically)--You wasn't drunk, eh?
THE PRISONER (weakly)--I might of had a drink oh two.
THE JUDGE (severely)--Was--you--_drunk_?
THE PRISONER--No, suh, Jedge. Ah wasn't drunk.
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