The Rhode Island Republican

POLICE OFFICE.

The first case which came before the magistrate this morning, was that of a lame fiddler, known to the readers of police news by the name of Daniel Dougan. He was brought up on complaint of a spruce little widow woman by the name of Mary M'Call, who charged him with pulling her out of bed, at 11 o'clock last night. The circumstances of this transaction are as follows: Mr. Dougan, (as he says himself,) is "a public man, and don't like to have his name published." He plays on the violin, for small parties-and sometimes "does a little private fiddling" at the house of the complainant, which is situated at No.--Hamilton street. He is deeply in love with Mrs. M'Call, has been for a long time, and as a probandi that she is not dead to the finer feelings of the human heart, he respectfully requested his honor to read the following letter which she sent to him a few days since, while he was confined at the domicile of a fellow fiddler in Anthony street. [Here Dougan pulled the letter from his pantaloons pocket, hobbled to the bar, and handed it to the magistrate.]

number--hnmilton strete.
April 6 18 and 34-my dear dan. yu cant begin to think how I lav ye. you dont no how i have feeled sence vou've been so sick. O. dear dan, there's no tellin bow i have missed vour sweet vial-in, for this long long tiine." You tole cousin Jaue, t'other da how you thought i'de forgot you-and how you had just as lief di as not, cause you didn't think I luvved yu. now, dan that was ingener-ous in yu. you no i would nevver forgit yu -aud if you should di, iwould want to di tu, and be berried into the same grave 'Iong with mny dear dan.
p. s. Daniel Dougan-make haste and get well, cause I want to sec yu-luv-vingly
mary m'Call."

"There," said the prisoner as the magistrate handed the billet-doux back to him, "there, would your honor think she could be so deceitful as to bring me here and have me put in prison?"[Turning to the complainant,]Now, my love, you know I was corned last night."

But, to proceed with the story: Dougan as we have already stated, was deeply in love with "the litle widdur." She encouraged his visits-and of late, scarcely an evening had passed but found Dougan at Mrs. M'Call's house, in Hamilton street, pouring forth his loving strains to the tune of "Molly put the Kettle on," "Coal Black Rose," and "Gee up go Robbin" into the eurs of his fair one.--Recently, however, Mrs. M'Call learned that ber "dear dan" was in the ha-bit of getting tipsy. He even had the imprudence to visit ler on Sunday eve-ning while in a state of staggeration.--She told biw she would let him know that she kept companv with no man who would get tipsy. [Pity all the ladies wouldn't do so.] Ie might just make himself scarce-and wheu he got sober, if he thought he could keep sober, he wns welcome to visit her, and she would treat him with all due deference. Dougan went home, somewhat chagrined-undressed bimself-plaved a "temper-anee anthem" on his fiddle, and went to bed cursing and swearing about what a foolish notion women bad of late becoine possessed of, that it was improper for their beaux to get tipsy. Well, last night at eleven o'clock, Dougal went to pay Mrs. M'Call another visit. Although his head felt a little queerish in conse-quence of the gin he had taken in the foro part of the evening, whiie playing for a dance at "The Hook," yer he was determined to go. Arrived at the house door, which was opened by a member of another family residing in the saine building, and being no stranger to the passage, he soon found his way to Mrs. M'Call's room. Without any ceremony he hobbled in. The complainant had just retired to bed; but no matter, 'love knew no etiquette.' He took a seat at the bedside, and began an apology for his former intemperate conduct-but to no purpose. The coniplainant discoy-nered that he was more intoxicated than ever-and so she ordered him out of the house, adding that henceforth he might "go to the old scratches-foi she would have no nore to say to him." Dougan's eyes flashed fire. Like the enraged and desperate Othello, he "blew his fond love to the vinds,"-and seizing Mrs. M'Call by the arm he forthwith dragged her out of bed on to the floor.

She screamed--the room was soon filled by the neighbors who resided in different apartments in the same house-and a watchman was called, who brought Dougan to the police, deposited hirn in a cell beneath, and left him to while away the night by singing to the gloomy walls the well known song, beginning with "Oh, cruel Polly Hopkins, To treat me so, to treat me so."

Magistrate.-You're a pretty fellow--aint vou?
Pris.-Well, now-ahem-the fact is, my head has been kind o' out of tune for four or five days.
Mag.-I should think as much. Well sir, have you any person to become secu-rity for your nppearance at court to an-swer to thls charge?
Pris -No, I hav'nt. [To complnin-ant.] O, now, wont you forgive me? You know I love yo.

The complainant was inexorable.--She determined to prosecute the com-plaint-made affidavit to the facts--and the lame fiddler wus committed to pris-on, to take his trial at the coming Ses-sions.