Our Magistrates

By P. G. Wodehouse

Punch, June 10, 1903

[“ Been to Epsom? ”—“ yes.”
“Saw the Oaks? ”—“ Yes.”
“I thought you looked like it Very hot, was it not? You met with a lot of friends; they wanted to treat you, and you them? The result was that you got very drunk? Well, I hope you backed Our Lassie!”

Such was the dialogue between Mr. Fordham, the North London magistrate, and a prisoner charged with drunkenness. The offender was fined 5s.—Evening Paper.]

Mr. Punch, Sir,—The above conversation affords an excellent example of a practice which I should like to see become more common in our police courts. I hold that a magistrate is too often unnecessarily brusque in his dealings with prisoners. Why should not proceedings be conducted with a minimum of unpleasantness, as in the case quoted? A visit to a police-court would then become a pleasure, and the prisoner would go away feeling that he had not wasted his morning. I venture to append a few specimen cases from my forthcoming brochure: “Affability on the Bench.”

Case One.

(Prisoner charged with being drunk and disorderly)

Magistrate. Hullo, old chap, sorry to see you here.

Prisoner (gracefully). Not at all. Always a pleasure to meet you anywhere.

M. Thanks. Bit rocky last night, weren’t you? What?

P. A trifle. Dinner of sorts on at the Club.

M. Quite so. Have a good time?

P. Splendid, thanks. Passable champagne, very.

M. Ah. Prefer hock myself. Well, I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. I suppose you were drunk?

P. Very.

M. And you did kick the policeman in the stomach?

P. (with pride). Rather. Jolly hard, too. [Chuckles.

M. (also chuckling). Wish I’d been there. Well, look here, you know, this sort of thing is all very well, don’t you see, but, hang it, old man, don’t you know, and so on. What?

P. Oh, I see your point.

M. (relieved). I knew you would be sensible about it. If you’ve got such a thing as half-a-crown on you, you might hand it over, will you? Thanks. So long.

P. (as he leaves the dock). Teuf-teuf.

Case Two.

(Prisoner charged with using profane language.)

Prisoner. I say.

Magistrate. Hello?

P. You couldn’t hurry up this case, I suppose? I want to go to Lord’s.

M. Oh, yes, that was where you were arrested, wasn’t it? Middlesex and Somerset, isn’t it? Rather a good match. I see Sammy Woods batted well.

P. ’Myes. Don’t like that uppish stroke of his, though, over the bowler’s head. What I say is, that that length ball of Prott’S ought to be kept on the carpet all the way. Don’t you think so?

M. No, there I don’t agree with you. It’s a perfectly safe stroke if you lay on the wood hard enough, and Sammy always does.

P. (making a concession). Well, perhaps you’re right. (Looks at his watch) I say, do you know what time it is? They’ll be starting in another quarter of an hour.

M. Why, so they will. We must hurry. What’s the charge? Profane language? Any defence? I needn’t ask you to keep it short.

P. (warmly). Defence! Well, rather. Why, the man at the other end ran Braund out when he only wanted four to complete his century. And I’m a Somerset man! What else could I do but say what I thought about it? What would you have done in my place?

M. (hastily). Discharged, discharged.

The Court will now adjourn. (To Prisoner) Wait for me in the street, will you, with a cab? I want to see the finish of that match. Shan’t be two minutes. [Scene closes.

I could give you other specimens, but these will, I think, sufficiently indicate the attitude of mind I recommend to our magistrates.

Yours,
Henry William Jones

 

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