bandsmen could afford to laugh at the noises. Delaney and
I, despite that we were all out as far "gone" as the rest, saw there was
going to be a storm if we did not bestir ourselves; so we set about
coaxing the musicians to return to their legitimate duties. After much
ado we induced them to quit the tavern, and Delaney and I followed suit,
and started for the barracks. "Just for safety's sake" we went arm in
arm, and as we passed down the long main street we sang and carried on
like the proverbial jolly tars. Things went moderately well with us until
we got to a picture shop. Here was a large painting showing General
Garibaldi mounted on a white horse; and no sooner did Delaney catch a
glimpse of the picture than he drew his sword and with it smashed the
window, his intention being to wreak his vengeance upon the offensive
canvas.

IN THE HANDS OF THE POLICE

We were both of us now in a fine mess, and no mistake about it. I stood
dumbfounded for about a minute, and before I had time to give my thoughts
to deciding what we should do, two big, brawny Scottish policemen had
come up from behind and seized Delaney tightly by the arms and deprived
him of his sword. They straightway marched their prisoner in the
direction of the Town Hall, I following at their heels and expostulating
with them, taking up the line of argument that if they only would let
John go I would advance the money for the broken window. But the Scottish
policemen--like their Keighley comrades, I suppose, would do--held their
prisoner firmly, and the only heed they paid to my entreaty was in the
shape of a threat--"Gin ye say mich mair ye'll hae ta gang along wi' us."
I still continued to beseech the constables to release "poor John," but
when near a place known as the Fish Cross one of the twain suddenly gave
back and rushed upon me. I drew my sword, and kept him at bay for a few
seconds, until a butcher came to his assistance. The butcher stole up
behind me and robbed me of my sword. Now I was almost "taken," but no!
not just yet. Seeing an opening in the large crowd which had gathered I
darted through it and down the street into a yard where I knew there was
a blacksmith's shop kept by Louis Gordon. I managed to get into the shop,
but my pursuers were almost at my heels. I was overpowered and very soon
the "bangles" were on my wrists. I was marched to the Town Hall, followed
by a vast and inquiring crowd. One of the milk girls from the barracks