scussions tend to become interminable.

The gentleman pushed the drunken man aside, saying:

"Come! Come! Go away!... Leave me alone!"

But the maudlin plumber was attracting the attention of the passers by
his gestures. He addressed the world at large.

"Would you believe it--that fellow there don't want me to sing!... No!
Well, I'm going to!" and he started triumphantly.

"_It is the--the--final ... strug-gle!_"

A policeman came out of the station with a solemn air. He put his hand
on the tipsy plumber's shoulder in paternal fashion.

"Go along with you, my friend!... Come now--pass along--pass along!" But
he could not make the plumber budge before he had finished his verse,
any more than he could teach him to walk straight on the spur of the
moment!... Leaving hold of the gentleman's coat tails, the worthy
plumber seized the policeman's arm.'

"Oh, you, you're a brother!... I have education, I have! You're a
workman too, I know!..."

As the police inspector pushed him off, trying to make him go on his
way, the plumber put his arm round him.

"No! No!... show you're a workman! Sing with me!"

"_It is the final ..._"

The scandal could no longer be tolerated! Street-corner idlers were
gathering, people were laughing at the policeman: strong measures were
necessary.

"Come now," said the policeman. "Yes, or no! Will you be off, and go
home?... Eh!... Or shall I take you to the station?..."

"You take me?... You take me?... Why, it would take four of you to take
me!..."

There was no shilly-shallying after this! Wounded in his vanity, the
servant of the law did not hesitate.

"All right!" said he; and seizing the plumber by the collar, although
there was no attempt at resistance, he dragged his prisoner towards the
town hall of the district, for the police station was there also.

"Some more game for the Depot!" said the policeman as he passed the
guard.... "A fellow I can't get rid of! Are the cells full up?"

Other policemen came up. An arrest in a peaceful district gives interest
to the dull routine of the men on duty.

"The cells full? Go along with you! There's only a small shopkeeper who
had no papers."

Thereupon the unfortunate singer, who continued to stagger about, was
quickly pushed into the dark room called "the detention room."

An ordinary every day incident of the streets, this arrest of a
drunkard!

"I shall have to write out a report for this fellow!" said the
policeman, who