"Captain Jones!" said the magistrate, taking snuff; "Captain Gregory
Jones, you mean!"
"Ay, mine goot Sare--yesh!"
"He set sail for Calcutta yesterday. He commands the Royal Sally.
He must evidently have sworn this debt against you for the purpose of
getting rid of your claim, and silencing your mouth till you could
catch him no longer. He's a clever fellow is Gregory Jones!"
"De teufel! but, Sure, ish dere no remedy for de poor merchant?"
"Remedy! oh, yes--indictment for perjury."
"But vat use is dat? You say he be gone--ten thousand miles off--to
Calcutta!"
"That's certainly against your indictment!"
"And cannot I get my monish?"
"Not as I see."
"And _I_ have been arreshted instead of him!"
"You have."
"Sare, I have only von vord to say--_is_ dat justice?"
"That I can't say, Mynheer Meyer, but it is certainly the law of
arrest," answered the magistrate; and he bowed the merchant out of
the room.
_New Monthly Magazine_.
* * * * *
SONGS FOUND IN A GRECIAN URN.
THE FIRST-BORN.
Beautiful, O woman! the sun on flower and tree,
And beautiful the balmy wind that dreameth on the sea;
And softly soundeth in thine ear, the song of peasants reaping,
The dove's low chant among the leaves, its twilight vigil keeping.
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