West Jersey Pioneer

THE LOGIC OF EVENTS.

There was an exciting scene the other morning in the Recorder's Court. The neighbors of Gabe Snodgrass, living on Galveston avenue, were compelled to have him arrested. He had whipped his wife, and her screams were so terrific that a crowd at a saloon ten blocks distant put their untouched glasses back on the bar and went to the door to see what was the matter. Both Gabe and his wife Matildy were in Court.

"What do you mean, sir," said his Honor, sternly, by such cruel treatment of her whom you vowed at the altar to love and cherish?" Gabe assumed a persuasive attitude and emphasized every word he said by the most extravagant gestures. He was laboring under intense mental excitement.

"I'll explain it to yer, Jedge. Foah God, I hardly teched her wid de toe ob my boot. I tell yer, Jedge, dat nigger's voice am to blaim. When she sings out hit sounds like a bull camp meetin'. Am I to blaim bekase Matildy has got a voice like a biler explodin'?" His Honor shook his head as if to intimate that the theory was too thin.

"Yer don't believe me? Now, Jedge, jess you jedge for yourself," said Gabe, and lifting up a hoof the size of a ham, he gave Matildy a kick that would have jolted an elephant. She threw her hands up and opened a mouth as big as that of a circus hippopotamus. She gave a prolonged yell that caused two teams to run away, and caused everybody in the court room to hold their hands to their ears. "Dar." said Gabe triumphantly, when she subsided, "is yer gwine ter punish me bekase she has got a sopraner voice? Is I ter blaim bekase she makes a Saengerfest outer herself?"

His Honor saw the justice of Gabe's defence, and told him to clear out.