actice, and as keen for a job as a huer for pilchards; and between
them they patched up an action for false imprisonment--damages claimed,
one hundred pounds.

The case came on at Bodmin, and the Mayor was cast in damages,
twenty-five pounds. He paid, of course, though with a very long face.
But Billy's revenge didn't stop here. Instead of putting the money by,
the old varmint laid it out in the best way he could to annoy his enemy.
And the way he contrived it was this. Every free Saturday he'd put a
sovereign in his pocket, and start the round of the public-houses--
always beginning with Cummins's own house, the Welcome Home. Cummins,
you see, couldn't refuse to serve him: the law wouldn't allow it. So
he'd pull out a brand new sovereign and slap it on the counter and eye
it. "Ah!" he'd say, "it was a dear friend gave me that there coin. His
heart's in the right place, which is more'n can be said for his calves.
Two-pennyworth of gin, please, your Worship." The Mayor's dignity
wouldn't let him serve it, so, the first day, he called his wife down.
Mrs. Cummins began by trying argument. "William," she said, "the Lord
knows you wouldn't have this money if there was justice in England. But
got it you have, and now be a sensible man and put it by for a rainy
day." "Mrs. Mayor," answers Billy, slow and vicious, "if there was any
chance of presentin' you with a silver cradle, I'd save it up and
subscribe." After that there was nothing more to say. It hurt the poor
soul terrible, and she went upstairs again and cried as she went. Billy
sat on and soaked, and the Mayor, across the counter, sat and watched
his condition, quiet-like, till the time came for refusing any more
liquor and turning him out. When that happened the old sinner would
gather up his change and make off for another public. And the end was
that he'd be up before the Mayor on Monday morning, charged with
drunkenness. No use to fine him; he wouldn't pay, but went to gaol
instead. "Ten years was I in prison," he'd say, addressing the bench,
"along with his Worship there. I don't know what 'twould appear to him
who came back and got the Welcome Home; but I didn't, and ten days don't
frighten me."

Landlord Cummins would listen to this, looking as unnatural as a blue
china cat in a thunderstorm. He fairly hated these appearances of
Billy, and they spoiled his term of office, I do believe. But all the
same he turned out a very passable Mayor.