'This lady, Mr. Jinks, has come here, to give information of an
intended duel in this town.'
Mr. Jinks, not knowing exactly what to do, smiled a
dependent's smile.
'What are you laughing at, Mr. Jinks?' said the magistrate.
Mr. Jinks looked serious instantly.
'Mr. Jinks,' said the magistrate, 'you're a fool.'
Mr. Jinks looked humbly at the great man, and bit the top of
his pen.
'You may see something very comical in this information, Sir--
but I can tell you this, Mr. Jinks, that you have very little to
laugh at,' said the magistrate.
The hungry-looking Jinks sighed, as if he were quite aware of
the fact of his having very little indeed to be merry about; and,
being ordered to take the lady's information, shambled to a seat,
and proceeded to write it down.
'This man, Pickwick, is the principal, I understand?' said the
magistrate, when the statement was finished.
'He is,' said the middle-aged lady.
'And the other rioter--what's his name, Mr. Jinks?'
'Tupman, Sir.'
'Tupman is the second?'
'Yes.'
'The other principal, you say, has absconded, ma'am?'
'Yes,' replied Miss Witherfield, with a short cough.
'Very well,' said the magistrate.
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