ou? Well, you can just go back and tell the magistrates
as Mrs. Gammer's got him, and if they want him they must come for him
themselves."

This was direct defiance of the law, and the policeman commenced a
remonstrance. His remarks were, however, cut short by Mrs. Gammer.

"I have always said as magistrates was as ignorant as babies, and I only
wish that they was as harmless," she persisted, in open contempt of the
government of her country. "You can go back, and tell 'em as Mrs. Gammer
says so. My house is my house, magistrate or no magistrate, and I won't
have any policeman messing about on the top of my tester-bed."

The policeman was not certain whether the authority which had been
entrusted to him in the matter would justify his making a deliberate
prisoner of Mrs. Gammer. And, as she showed every sign of resorting to
violence, should he attempt to pass the door, which she barred with her
stout figure, he decided upon beating a retreat. He went outside again
and reasserted his shattered dignity by once more driving away the
crowd; then, not knowing what else to do, he returned to the police
station and reported the matter to the chief constable.

The chief laughed, and so did everybody else who heard the story. The
policeman was directed to return to Mrs. Gammer's cottage later in the
day, and serve her with an order requiring her to give up the cock
immediately. But when he handed Mrs. Gammer the official paper, she
laughed in his face.

"You can look round the house for the cock now if you like," she said
contemptuously, slapping down the order upon the table, "and you can see
if you can find him."

"Is he still on the top of your tester-bed?" demanded the policeman.

"Go and look," responded Mrs. Gammer, with a snort. "You can take the
turk's-head brush and brush him down!"

So, armed with the turk's-head brush, the policeman ascended Mrs.
Gammer's small, steep staircase. When he reached her bedroom, he poked
into every cranny and corner with the handle of his brush. But no cock
was to be found.

He descended the stairs, and stood again in the little kitchen. A savory
smell of cooking arose from a stew-pan on the fire.

"Where's the critter gone to?" he demanded.

"How should I know?" replied Mrs. Gammer testily.

The policeman, still standing in the kitchen, wished that Mrs. Gammer
would give him an invitation to supper. The widow glanced up sharply at
him and saw what was in his mind.

"You'd