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Show What Happened to Him. (Cincinnati Times-Star.) When the policeman told Patrick Collins Col-lins that he wa3 before the court. Mr. Collins felt his way to the rail and stood there, his hands upon it. His hand was completely wrapped in ban- j dages. Just one little peek hole was left, through which a gleam of light penetrated to the inner Collins. He turned his head siclewise, like a battered bat-tered and very dissolute robin, and peered at the magistrate. "You are charged with disorderly conduct, Col lins, said the court. "I know it." Mr. Collins was understood under-stood to mumble. "I want to be held for trial." "You want to be held for trial?" gasped the court. "Why not plead guilty now, pay a dollar fine and go away free?" "Nup," said Collins, straining language lan-guage through the cioths. "Nup, I wanta be tried." . . "And in the name of the Great Chief Tammany why ?" asked the court. "Because," said Collins, through his swollen lips, "the last T can remember 'was when I was standing peaceful like on a corner. Then the next thing I can remember two doctors were sewing me together so T wouldn't fall apart before I got to court. T want to be tried and hear the stories of the witnesses. That's the only way I'll ever find out what came off." |