who keeps a public-house, a sort of flash ken, called the Mug, in Thames Court, not exactly in our beat, your Worship."
"Ho, ho!" said Justice Burnflat, winking at Mr. Brandon, "we must sift this a little. Pray, Mr. Paul Lobkins, what relation is the good landlady of the Mug, in Thames Court, to yourself?"
"None at all, Sir," said Paul, hastily,—"she's only a friend!"
Upon this there was a laugh in the court.
"Silence," cried the Justice, "and I dare say, Mr. Paul Lobkins, that this friend of yours will vouch for the respectability of your character, upon which you are pleased to value yourself."
"I have not a doubt of it, Sir," answered Paul; and there was another laugh.
"And is there any other equally weighty and praiseworthy friend of yours who will do you the like kindness?"
Paul hesitated; and at that moment, to the surprise of the court, but above all to the utter and astounding surprise of himself, two gentlemen dressed in the height of the fashion pushed
