Von has a great relish for
squires and police officers, esteems them the salt of all good, nor
ever charges them a cent for his best-brewed lager-beer. There is,
however, a small matter of business in the way, which Von, being
rather a sharp logician, thinks it quite as well to reconcile with
beer. The picture is complete, when of a morning, some exciting
negro case being about to be brought forward, Fetter and Von may be
seen, as before described, standing importantly easy in their
respective doors; while Felsh paces up and down the side-walk,
seemingly in deep study. On these occasions it is generally said Von
makes the criminal "niggers," Felsh orders them caught and brought
before Fletter, and Fetter passes awful judgment upon them. Now and
then, Felsh will prosecute on behalf of the state, for which that
generous embodiment of bad law is debtor the fees.
The city clock has struck twelve; Fetter stands in his doorway, his
countenance wearing an air of great seriousness. Felsh saunters at
the outside, now and then making some legal remark on a point of the
negro statutes, and at every turn casting his bleared eye up the
street. Presently, Nicholas is seen, his hands pinioned, and a heavy
chain about his neck, approaching between two officials. A crowd
follows; among it are several patriotic persons who evince an
inclination to wrest him from the officials, that they may,
according to Judge Lynch's much-used privileges, wreak their
vengeance in a summary manner.
Pages:
696
697
698
699
700
701
702
703
704
705
706
707
708
709
710
711
712
713
714
715
716
717
718
719
720